Eleven-year-old Allegra shuttles between her grandmothers who live next door to one another but couldn’t be more different. Matilde works all hours and instils discipline, duty and restraint. She insists that Allegra focus on her studies to become a doctor.

Meanwhile free-spirited Joy is full of colour, possibility and emotion, storing all her tears in little glass bottles. She is riding the second wave of the women’s movement in the company of her penny tortoise, Simone de Beauvoir, encouraging Ally to explore broad horizons and live her ‘true essence’.

And then there’s Rick who lives in a flat out the back and finds distraction in gambling and solace in surfing. He’s trying to be a good father to Al Pal, while grieving the woman who links them all but whose absence tears them apart.

Allegra is left to orbit these three worlds wishing they loved her a little less and liked each other a lot more. Until one day the unspoken tragedy that’s created this division explodes within the person they all cherish most.

Allegra in Three Parts by Suzanne Daniel is a debut coming-of-age story recommended for adult readers, exploring identity and adolescence and the rise of feminism and activism in the 1970s.

Allegra’s mother died when she was very young, so Allegra has been raised by her two grandmothers Matilde and Joy, and her father Rick. Allegra lives with Matilde but Joy lives next door and she and Allegra are very close. The two grandmothers, who were once close, no longer speak to each other because of some past disagreement that has been kept hidden from Allegra.

Predominantly character-driven, Allegra in Three Parts is equal parts entertaining as it is enriching. Suzanne has captured the era vividly, evoking nostalgic responses in readers. It was life before social media and smart phones, where many young children didn’t have televisions and their school teachers were nuns.

“I can split myself in two… something I have to do because of Joy and Matilde. They are my grandmothers and I love them both and they totally love me but they can’t stand each other.”

Allegra in Three Parts is an uplifting, moving novel full of heart and hope. It’s also playful and fun. 11-year-old Allegra’s innocence and curiosity is captured with tenderness and heart. She’s a fantastic protagonist, enticing the reader and keeping them interested until the final page.

I felt that the pacing was quite slow for what was a very minimal plot, but Allegra carries the story with her intrigue and her wonder for the world.

Set in Sydney, domestic violence is rife in Allegra’s neighbourhood. Her best friend Patricia has a violent father, and they’re not the only family looking to escape violence. Allegra in Three Parts features a large cast of strong, independent women who want to be in control of their decisions and their futures. As a result, many people in the neighbourhood — Allegra’s family included — come together to help victims of domestic violence.

“There on a hanger is a pale blue dress. It is the exact same colour — Oriental Blue — that I have loved ever since I first saw Kimberley’s complete set of seventy-two Derwent watercolour pencils when she displayed them, one by one, for show-and-tell in Second Class. It has a cream ruffle on each side of the bodice from the neck to the waist and cream piping around the cuffs.”

Capturing the voice of a tween is no easy feat, particularly when writing a book intended for adults. Sometimes, reading books from the voice of a young child can tire the reader (or perhaps annoy them, depending on the personality of the child), but Allegra is a fascinating character that all readers will enjoy meeting. She’s smart and confident, courageous and incredibly loving.

A few times in the novel I felt the girls in the story — particularly Allegra and Patricia — were a little too wise for their age, recognised in fleeting moments of dialogue between the children and the adults. Other than that, I found the characters incredibly authentic to the era, their ages and their experiences in life.

Recommended for readers of literary fiction, women’s fiction and historical fiction.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Allegra in Three Parts
Suzanne Daniel
June 2019
Pan Macmillan Publishers

Where Romy grew up, if someone died you never spoke of them again.

Now twenty-two, she has recently escaped the toxic confines of the cult she was raised in. But Romy is young, pregnant and completely alone – and if she is to keep herself safe in this new world, she has some important lessons to learn.

Like how there are some people you can trust, and some you must fear. And about who her family really is, and why her mother ran away from them all those years ago.

And that you can’t walk away from a dark past without expecting it to catch up with you…

The Poison Garden by Alex Marwood is a suspenseful novel about the dark and dangerous world of cults. When the majority of the members of a dark and secretive Doomsday cult are found dead in an apparent poisoning suicide, the sole adult survivor, Romy, must learn to navigate the real world. She’s 22, pregnant, and full of secrets. What really happened at Plas Golau and how did everyone die?

The structure of the novel is what will keep readers utterly absorbed in the story. The novel switches back and forth, between past and present. Slowly, we come to understand what Pla Golau was really like, who was in charge, how the commune ran, and how they all died.

We come to realise just how brainwashed all the cult members were. They’re all preparing for the end of the world, but there are many cracks in the foundation of their cult. Everyone is assigned chores each day, with strict rules that they must follow. Lucien (Father) chooses a new girl each solstice to begin sexual relations with in the hope of getting her pregnant. But no one seems to question how young the girls are, and how Lucien only seems to choose the attractive ones each year.

Romy’s mother joined the cult when Romy was a baby, and so Romy is never considered very special because she wasn’t ‘created’ in the commune. However, her mother gives birth to two children while in the cult and the middle child — Eden — is the daughter of Lucien. And she’s doted upon by the other cult members. Even after the mass suicide, when Romy, Eden and their brother Ilo are still alive and trying to navigate the real world, Eden has a sense of entitlement. She thinks she’s some sort of saviour because Lucien is her father.

“It is very quiet. Not really. It’s just a completely different sort of loud from the rural sounds of Plas Golau. The sound of traffic outside, the rumble of the machines downstairs. I have the windows open, for the heat is stifling on a sunny day in October.”

Alex Marwood builds tension and unease really skilfully — as you read the storyline of the past, you can see the deaths coming. You can also sense a lot of other incredibly problematic and disturbing things that are happening within the cult.

There are a group of vile boys who make a habit of preying on young, drunk girls whenever the cult celebrates the solstice with a boozy party. Lucien’s son returns to the cult — now an adult — and he appears to have a hidden agenda. And whenever children die, which seems to happen fairly often, their bodies disappear and they are never spoken about again.

The writing is sharp and evocative. The reader gets a strong sense of place from The Poison Garden — Alex Marwood has done a fantastic job of capturing the entire world of Plas Golau. I found it easy to imagine all of it. Personally, I loved the ‘past’ storyline more than the present storyline, but I think that’s because of my fascination with cults.

“She stays until she’s sure I’m not going to burn myself to death. She shows me how to work the gas cooker, how to turn on the TV and where the meters are for the payment keys, and advises me to clean the fridge before I put anything in it.”

The only flaw I noticed with the book is the characterisation of Aunt Sarah. SPOILER ALERT: the evolution of her character doesn’t make much sense to me, and I felt like it didn’t fit in with how she was initially presented to readers. She’s a single woman whose reckless sister left the family decades earlier after falling pregnant at a young age. She distanced herself from her parents, and when the mass suicide happens at Plas Golau, Sarah’s sister is named as one of the dead.

Sarah’s niece and nephew — Ilo and Eden — are suddenly landed with her from social services. They’re teenagers but completely clueless about how the world works. They’re obviously very traumatised and disturbed by their years in the cult. Sarah is overwhelmed by their presence in her life, but she wants the best for them. She’s helpful, instructive, and she fights on their behalf when there are issues at school.

But then, and this is seriously spoilery, at the end of the novel she follows Romy and Ilo to a commune established by another dangerous cult leader. What? Huh? Why is Sarah there? I understand Romy and Ilo’s motivations, but Sarah? That ending didn’t feel organic. Sarah doesn’t seem like the kind of character who would join a cult.

“He squalls his way into the world when the fruit harvest is at its height and Romy doesn’t hear about it, or notice that her mother is missing, for two days. Anyone at Plas Golau who can walk and understand simple instructions is out in the orchards, and his birth has attracted none of the pleasurable anticipation that Eden’s did.”

Despite that, I highly recommend The Poison Garden, particularly if you’re intrigued by suspense, thriller, secrets, and cults.

Thank you to the publisher for mailing me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

The Poison Garden
Alex Marwood
August 2019
Hachette Book Publishers

Abigail Sorensen has spent her life trying to unwrap the events of 1990. It was the year she started receiving random chapters from a self-help book called The Guidebook in the post.

It was also the year Robert, her brother, disappeared on the eve of her sixteenth birthday.

She believes the absurdity of The Guidebook and the mystery of her brother’s disappearance must be connected.

Now thirty-five, owner of The Happiness Café and mother of four-year-old Oscar, Abigail has been invited to learn the truth behind The Guidebook at an all-expenses-paid retreat. What she finds will be unexpected, life-affirming, and heartbreaking.

Gravity is the Thing is an exquisite novel from Australian author Jaclyn Moriarty, a charming, heartwarming story about family, love, and hope. It’s about self-discovery and self-worth, and it’s about the complexities of relationships. This is one of my favourite books this year.

I fell in love with Abigail Sorensen from the very first page, from her trip to the airport all the way through the book until the very final moment. She’s observational, witty and hilarious, but she’s also caring and compassionate. Her voice is instantly relatable and she invites you into the book with her storytelling.

She’s also emotionally scarred. When she was a teenager, Abigail’s brother went missing and she’s never let go of him from her mind. She’s never given up hope that she’ll find out where he went or what happened to him. This retreat she’s been invited to seems like a ridiculous venture with no useful outcomes, but Abigail feels like she might get some answers by going. She feels drawn to this retreat. She somehow feels like Robert’s disappearance and The Guidebook are connected.

“Now we are in a field. Wilbur is handing out sacks that smell of horses and hay. He is shouting instructions. We are climbing into the sacks, lining up side by side for a sack race. Unexpected! The strange awkward loping of a sack race. (I am winning the race for a moment! Then tipping sideways into rutted grass. Bruising my hip. Coming in last. Oh well.)”

Abigail’s journey in the present is intercepted with flashbacks to the past — to Robert’s disappearance, to her marriage and its subsequent breakdown, to the birth of her son. The transition between past and present is effortless and allows for ease of reading.

The book is also peppered with chapters from The Guidebook that Abigail has been sent through the years. The Guidebook chapters have a habit of reflecting Abigail’s life, and they’re a timely delivery to her door each time.

Additionally, the mystery surrounding Robert’s disappearance does get solved by the end of the book, and it’s one of the major things that drives the pace of the book. As Abigail’s experience with the retreat continues, little clues are dropping into her life and she starts to feel like she may be able to solve the mystery, all these years later.

“Much of my sixteenth birthday was wasted being furious with Robert, at the same time as secretly thinking that his absence meant a surprise party for me, at the same time as being faintly frightened that something was wrong.”

I’ve read a few of Jaclyn’s books, and I love how well she weaves everything together and brings it to a close. Any loose bits of information are answered or explained, and the reader feels complete when they close the book.

I highly recommend this to readers. Gravity is the Thing is poignant, filled with beautiful writing and glorious characters. The premise is incredibly unique, and will draw readers in and keep them hooked until the very final page.

Thank you to the publisher for sending me a review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Gravity is the Thing
Jaclyn Moriarty
April 2019
Pan Macmillan Publishers