The unforgettable story of a mother and son fleeing a drug-cartel to cross the US-Mexico border.

Vivid, visceral, utterly compelling, AMERICAN DIRT is the first novel to explore the experience of attempting to illegally cross the US-Mexico border.

Yesterday, Lydia had a bookshop.
Yesterday, Lydia was married to a journalist.
Yesterday, she was with everyone she loved most in the world.

Today, her eight-year-old son Luca is all she has left.

For him, she will carry a machete strapped to her leg.
For him, she will leap onto the roof of a high speed train.
For him, she will find the strength to keep running.

In Jeanine Cummins’ American Dirt, a mother and son embark on a treacherous journey through Mexico to escape a dangerous drug cartel. The fictitious story follows these characters — and a few others we meet along the way — as they attempt to illegally cross the US-Mexico border.

We meet Lydia and her eight-year-old son Luca in Acapulco, Mexico. They’re cowering in the bathroom as armed men murder their family and extended family in the backyard during a family barbecue. It’s an absolute massacre, and it’s sheer luck that Lydia and Luca survive. But they don’t have time to grieve their loved ones because now they’re on the run, desperate to escape the clutches of the drug cartel responsible for the mass murder.

“One of the very first bullets comes in through the open window above the toilet where Luca is standing. He doesn’t immediately understand that it’s a bullet at all, and it’s only luck that it doesn’t strike him between the eyes…but the wash of bullets that follows is loud, booming and thudding, clack-clacking with helicopter speed.”

Told through intimate third person perspective, the break-neck pacing never wavers from that first sentence, and Jeanine brings succinct, sharp prose to the novel with every passing page.

Jeanine evokes emotion and empathy through her prose, allowing the reader to sympathise for Lydia and Luca as they continue on their journey. The mother and son suffer many mishaps along the treacherous route to freedom, and Jeanine captures their characterisation and their personalities through their actions, not just their dialogue.

“Luca thinks of the men running alongside the train in the clearing outside Lecheria, the way they ascended, one by one, and disappeared, while he and Mama watched, unable to move.”

Tension is heightened throughout the novel because Lydia and Luca are never safe — there are moments where the cartel are right on their heels, sometimes taunting them.

There is also a stark contrast in the book between the horrors around Lydia, and the love between her and her son. Lydia will do everything to keep her son safe, and there are some really tender moments between the two of them, often when they’re alone, that will really resonate with readers.

“Lydia doesn’t stare at the boy at the other end of the freight car, but she’s hyperaware now of his attention. He sits with his legs outstretched and his weight leaned back on his propped hands, and he’s watching them. Lydia does recognise him now, but only because Luca mentioned it.”

Over the course of the novel, Lydia and Luca meet and befriend other migrants, and these friendships keep readers on the edge of their seat. The cartel has many spies, and everyone who works for the cartel knows to be on the lookout for Lydia and Luca. Who can be trusted? Who will sell them out?

Unsettling and moving, American Dirt is highly recommended reading.

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

American Dirt
Jeanine Cummins
February 2020
Hachette Publishers

December 1974. Abby Campbell and her brother Charlie are driving to their father’s farm on a dark country road when they swerve into the path of another car, forcing it into a tree. The pregnant driver is killed instantly.

In the heat of the moment, Abby and Charlie make a fateful decision. They flee, hoping heavy rain will erase the fact they were there. They both have too much to lose.

But they have no idea who they’ve just killed or how many lives will be affected by her death. Soon the truth is like a riptide they can’t escape, as their terrible secret pulls them down deeper by the day.

Set in country Queensland in the 1970s, Kirsten Alexander’s Riptides is a seductive family drama about relationships, trust, choices, and the consequences of one terrible decision.

The book begins on a deserted highway late at night, when siblings Abby and Charlie accidentally force another car off the road. The pregnant driver dies, and whilst Abby and Charlie should attempt to save the life of the baby, they don’t call for help and instead drive off. They later find out the woman was their father’s new fiancé, and the dead baby was their step-sibling.

“Mark would rail at my stupidity in staying silent and then lying to the police, and for effectively choosing my brother over my husband. He might divorce me. He loves me, no question, but his job means the world to him.”

Structurally, the novel moves between Abby and Charlie’s POV. We spend most of the novel witnessing their guilt, vulnerability and their attempts to lie to the police and move on from what happened.

We also come to understand tensions between family members. The plot jumps back a few times to give us context about Abby and Charlie’s circumstances. Abby is a mother of young children, whose husband is supportive and helpful, but a little absent from the domestic duties.

Charlie has been living in Bali with his best friends Ryan and Sal. Charlie is in love with Sal, and his time in Bali is his way of avoiding any real responsibilities at home. The main reason he didn’t want to call for help at the scene of the accident, is because he didn’t want anything to jeopardise his plans to return home to Bali. He’s a very dependent man. He often lets — or expects — Abby to solve his problems.

“By the time I arrived in Kuta, Ryan and Sal had decided to set up a restaurant that would serve noodles, juice and cheap beer. Not the vibe we’d originally talked about but there was a garden behind the kitchen and the food was right for the location.”

Riptides captures the complex dynamics within a family. Abby and Charlie’s father is a short-tempered man, who appears quite closed off, unwilling to forgive, and still mourning the loss of his wife years earlier. Abby feels she’s missing out on opportunities because she spends so much time doing things for her husband, her children, her father and her brother.

The book is set in a decade where women were expected to be stay-at-home mothers, looking after their children and managing the household for their husband. Abby wants to enrol in university and study law, and whilst her husband is supportive of this plan, her father is sceptical and questions her priorities.

Abby and Charlie constantly bicker and are incredibly different — Abby is reserved and organised, a planner. Charlie is more of a free spirit, never wanting to settle down and always looking for the next thrill. The car accident forces them to confront their differences and align on a plan, and, over time, it forces them to confront each other and overcome their grievances.

“Dad gets up with a grunt. As he stands, Abby steps back. Mum always said Dad’s temper was a war wound. He’s a tough nut. He likes to tell me how easy my life was, as if it’d be good for it to be otherwise.”

Tense, sophisticated and highly addictive, Riptides had me hooked. The writing is tight and polished, cutting to the emotion of the tragedy. The dialogue is realistic and builds suspense. Riptides is set in Queensland during a time of social upheaval, and Kirsten brings Brisbane to the forefront of the story and presents a story that’s fast-paced and compelling. Readers will find themselves enticed and entertained, ripping through the pages.

Recommended for fans of crime, drama, thriller, family dramas and mysteries.

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

Riptides
Kirsten Alexander
February 2020
Penguin Random House Publishers

When Emira is apprehended at a supermarket for ‘kidnapping’ the white child she’s actually babysitting, it sets off an explosive chain of events. Her employer Alix, a feminist blogger with the best of intentions, resolves to make things right.

But Emira herself is aimless, broke and wary of Alix’s desire to help. When a surprising connection emerges between the two women, it sends them on a crash course that will upend everything they think they know – about themselves, each other, and the messy dynamics of privilege.

Such a Fun Age by Kiley Reid is a provocative, multi-layered debut novel about race, privilege and the fetishisation of black people. The book is about a black babysitter — 25-year-old Emira Tucker — and her relationship with the white family she works for, exploring white people’s pursuit of being ‘woke’ and how easily they can miss the mark, and not realise they’re doing more harm than good.

Emira is a complex character — wise and confident, but also a little naive and too trusting. She’s just trying to pay her bills and figure out what she wants in life, but her relationship with her boss Alix Chamberlain (a rich, white woman who doesn’t spend as much time with her kids as she should) and her new boyfriend Kelley Copeland (an older white man who seems to give Emira a little too much advice) complicates things.

Narrated in third person, Such a Fun Age explores the race relations and power dynamics between Emira and Alix, and Emira and Kelley. Kiley Reid is incredibly talented at making us despise and also sympathise for both Alix and Kelley. My opinion of the two characters kept changing throughout the book — are they genuine? are they really wanting to help, or are they pushing their own agenda? That’s the beauty of this book.

Ironically, Alix and Kelley spend most of the novel fretting over what Emira — and other black people — think of them, while Emira is just trying to live her life away from intense scrutiny.

“Alix knew that her aspirations for a relationship with Emira were possibly too high because of what she’d seen with her girlfriends and their sitters. Rachel and her nanny, Arnetta, often discussed their divorces, their least favourite children in Hudson’s class, and the most attractive fathers…Alix didn’t know what Emira liked, or what she didn’t like, or how she stayed so skinny, of if she believed in God.”

Amira is not perfect in this story, but I think that’s the point. All of the characters are flawed and all of the characters misunderstand situations, but it’s about how you confront the flaws and the mistakes that makes a difference.

Alix refuses to understand how her actions in high school resulted in a black boy losing his college scholarship, and Kelley refuses to admit how his actions in high school were disrespectful to Alix, and how his fixation on black women is inappropriate. Kelley puts on a persona of being ‘woke’ but he has an obsession with trying to ‘fix’ the problems of every black woman he dates, and that’s problematic in itself. It’s like his life only has validation when he’s trying to ‘help’ others. But Emira is a woman trying to figure out her own life and she doesn’t need anyone to help her.

“Was this cruel? Trying to win a best supporting Oscar as she waited for Emira to learn her flight was cancelled? Who cared, she’d make up for it anyway. The realisation that Emira could have a seat at their Thanksgiving table made Alix practically high. Suddenly, the fourth Thursday in November wasn’t just a holiday. It was four (hopefully five or six) hours to finally make Emira family.”

Pacing is inconsistent in the book. The ending felt very rushed and conversations felt forced. I think the first 50 pages are the weakest in the book, which is sad because I’d hate for readers to be discouraged from continuing the story. Structurally, the book is all over the place in the beginning. We start with Amira being accused of kidnapping the child in the grocery story, and it’s such a powerful chapter and builds incredible tension, and the reader is desperate to find out more.

But then, subsequent chapters are mostly building backstory. In fact, the second chapter is all about Alix’s backstory, which I think could’ve just been woven into the rest of the story. After that explosive opening chapter, the follow up chapter is so lacklustre. The pace slows, the tension disappears, and I think readers will find themselves a little demotivated.

The first 50 pages reflect this sort of yo-yo stylistic device of going back and forth and I think it does the book a disservice. Eventually, the book finds its stride and the pacing and the plot remain consistent, but I think the first few chapters needed more of a structural edit.

“This became Emira’s uniform. Three times a week, Alix came downstairs to find Emira slipping a white polo over her head. She hung it up on the coatrack just before she left. And suddenly, as Alix walked through blue ribbons hanging from the balloons above, the tenderness of this tradition made her throat start to close.”

I think publishing company missed the mark on the UK/AUS cover for this one — it doesn’t quite capture the depth of the story, or the themes explored in the book. It looks like an upbeat, chick lit novel and I think there was room for something bigger than the cover we got.

Thought-provoking, compelling and brave. Whilst this book isn’t perfect, I recommend it for readers of all ages and genders.

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

Such a Fun Age
Kiley Reid
January 2020
Bloomsbury Publishers

You thought your darkest secret was safe.
You were wrong.

It’s been 192 days, seven hours and fifteen minutes since her last drink. Now Astrid is trying to turn her life around.

Having reluctantly moved back in with her mother, in a quiet seaside town away from the temptations and painful memories of her life before, Astrid is focusing on her recovery. She’s going to meetings. Confessing her misdeeds. Making amends to those she’s wronged.

But someone knows exactly what Astrid is running from. And they won’t stop until she learns that some mistakes can’t be corrected.

Some mistakes, you have to pay for . . .

Lesley Kara’s Who Did You Tell? is a gripping psychological thriller about recovering addict Astrid and her attempt to escape past mistakes by returning home to live with her mother. Someone who knows her biggest secret has followed her to the small, seaside town of Flinstead, and intends to make her pay for what she did.

There are two POVs throughout the novel. The main storyline is written in first person by thirty-two-year-old Astrid, who is doing her best to recover from her alcoholism and mend her broken relationship with her mother. After fleeing London, she starts attending AA meetings in Flinstead where she meets Rosie and Helen, two older women who are also recovering alcoholics. She forms a close friendship with Helen, and the two bond of their broken relationships.

The other storyline is an anonymous character whose POV appears sporadically in the novel. That person is tailing Astrid, incredibly angry at her for what she did when she was an addict. That person wants revenge.

“She won’t hear me go out, but still, I can’t take any chances. If she knows I’ve gone, she’ll be on the lookout when I come back. She won’t have me in the house if I’ve been drinking — she’s made that patently clear — and I’ve nowhere else to go. Not any more. No more sofas to crash out on. No more favours to call in.”

Astrid is remorseful and full of regrets, but she’s also hopeful that she can recover from her addiction and steer her life back on the right path. She’s sheepish and lacking in self confidence, and the reader can sense how worried she is about falling off the wagon. A lot of the tension in the novel comes from the possibility of Astrid drinking again, and how that will affect her relationship with her mother.

Over time, Lesley drip feeds us information about Astrid’s past and how she came to be living with her mother in Flinstead. It’s clear that Astrid had alienated everyone in her life and her mother is the last remaining contact she has. Astrid’s past was full of pain and hurt, and she destroyed a lot of relationships and friendships along the way.

“It’s time-consuming, intricate work, but if it was good enough for the Old Masters, then it’s good enough for me, and Richard has already said that I must take as long as I need. He’s not after a rushed job, and neither am I. This house is a labour of love for him. He cares about aesthetics.”

Who Did You Tell? explores themes of guilt and remorse, but also forgiveness, trust and redemption. Astrid wants to get her life back on track, and in Flinstead she starts to build a support network full of people who want her to succeed.

Once Astrid learns to trust others, she can let go of the walls around her and let those people in. She starts to tell the truth, admit her wrongs, and move forward with the right people by her side.

“I wish I hadn’t started this now. It’s all coming out. The wreckage of my life, spilling out in a great ugly heap. I know if I’m going to do this Twelve Step thing properly, then at some point I’m going to have to confess all this anyway, and the rest of it.”

Admittedly, I did find the novel a little predictable. I guessed pretty quickly who the anonymous character was, and I think too many hints were given to the reader. Additionally, at times I found Astrid quite unlikeable — a little too weak and timid?

Suspenseful and fast-paced, Who Did You Tell? will have you desperate to complete. Recommended for fans of crime, thriller and psychological dramas.

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

Who Did You Tell?
Lesley Kara
January 2020
Penguin Random House Publishers