Highly charged, melodramatic, and full of summer atmosphere, albeit overstuffed with detail.


Small Vegetables


In this debut novel, a dangerous familial legacy threatens the summer peace of a Nova Scotian village where townies and rich visitors mingle and sometimes collide.

Blackburn Village, on the southern coast of Nova Scotia, has for generations been home to wealthy summer residents. The townspeople earn much-needed income as caretakers during the offseason and, during the warmer months, as babysitters, gardeners, cooks, launderers, and housekeepers. Though the rich folk seem to have it made, fissures exist. Bartlett Carlisle, patriarch of a large brood of nine, is a controlling narcissist—and worse. Last summer, Bart pulled out a hunk of his wife Daphne’s hair during an argument, of which she is chillingly reminded on her first day back in Blackburn: “she noticed a clump of her own blond hair, neatly tied in a pale blue ribbon and sitting in a clamshell ashtray.” As Blackburn residents enjoy summer fun and love affairs, Daphne learns a horrifying secret about Bart’s genetic makeup that will have dramatic consequences. In her debut, Ogilvie manages her large cast of characters well as she skillfully conveys the beauty and appeal of Blackburn while also drawing out its underlying tensions. However, the rich characters tend to sound like a parody of themselves: “Isn’t this glorious? Isn’t this simply glorious?”; “It’s such a divine day”; “that sounds absolutely frightful.” Harper, a young Blackburn resident, offers interest, yet she’s such a paragon that she seems a type, not a person. Ogilvie tries to create suspense, but the book’s sprawl and lack of focus—overly detailed descriptions of clothes, crockery, food, logistical arrangements, and such—drain it. Meanwhile, readers never learn the mystery of the blue-beribboned hair. More crucially, Bart’s genetic scheme that so appalls Daphne is barely different from using donor eggs and sperm, and the postulated mechanism of harm—a spontaneously generated virus that somehow becomes a genetically transmissible illness—is scientifically dubious to say the least.

Highly charged, melodramatic, and full of summer atmosphere, albeit overstuffed with detail.

Pub Date: Feb. 9, 2015

ISBN: 978-1-4917-5621-8

Page Count: 352

Publisher: iUniverse

Review Posted Online: Aug. 27, 2015

Did you like this book?

No Comments Yet

A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.


Are we not men? We are—well, ask Bigfoot, as Brooks does in this delightful yarn, following on his bestseller World War Z (2006).

A zombie apocalypse is one thing. A volcanic eruption is quite another, for, as the journalist who does a framing voice-over narration for Brooks’ latest puts it, when Mount Rainier popped its cork, “it was the psychological aspect, the hyperbole-fueled hysteria that had ended up killing the most people.” Maybe, but the sasquatches whom the volcano displaced contributed to the statistics, too, if only out of self-defense. Brooks places the epicenter of the Bigfoot war in a high-tech hideaway populated by the kind of people you might find in a Jurassic Park franchise: the schmo who doesn’t know how to do much of anything but tries anyway, the well-intentioned bleeding heart, the know-it-all intellectual who turns out to know the wrong things, the immigrant with a tough backstory and an instinct for survival. Indeed, the novel does double duty as a survival manual, packed full of good advice—for instance, try not to get wounded, for “injury turns you from a giver to a taker. Taking up our resources, our time to care for you.” Brooks presents a case for making room for Bigfoot in the world while peppering his narrative with timely social criticism about bad behavior on the human side of the conflict: The explosion of Rainier might have been better forecast had the president not slashed the budget of the U.S. Geological Survey, leading to “immediate suspension of the National Volcano Early Warning System,” and there’s always someone around looking to monetize the natural disaster and the sasquatch-y onslaught that follows. Brooks is a pro at building suspense even if it plays out in some rather spectacularly yucky episodes, one involving a short spear that takes its name from “the sucking sound of pulling it out of the dead man’s heart and lungs.” Grossness aside, it puts you right there on the scene.

A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.

Pub Date: June 16, 2020

ISBN: 978-1-9848-2678-7

Page Count: 304

Publisher: Del Rey/Ballantine

Review Posted Online: Feb. 10, 2020

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2020

Did you like this book?

Dark and unsettling, this novel’s end arrives abruptly even as readers are still moving at a breakneck speed.


Ten years after her teenage daughter went missing, a mother begins a new relationship only to discover she can't truly move on until she answers lingering questions about the past.

Laurel Mack’s life stopped in many ways the day her 15-year-old daughter, Ellie, left the house to study at the library and never returned. She drifted away from her other two children, Hanna and Jake, and eventually she and her husband, Paul, divorced. Ten years later, Ellie’s remains and her backpack are found, though the police are unable to determine the reasons for her disappearance and death. After Ellie’s funeral, Laurel begins a relationship with Floyd, a man she meets in a cafe. She's disarmed by Floyd’s charm, but when she meets his young daughter, Poppy, Laurel is startled by her resemblance to Ellie. As the novel progresses, Laurel becomes increasingly determined to learn what happened to Ellie, especially after discovering an odd connection between Poppy’s mother and her daughter even as her relationship with Floyd is becoming more serious. Jewell’s (I Found You, 2017, etc.) latest thriller moves at a brisk pace even as she plays with narrative structure: The book is split into three sections, including a first one which alternates chapters between the time of Ellie’s disappearance and the present and a second section that begins as Laurel and Floyd meet. Both of these sections primarily focus on Laurel. In the third section, Jewell alternates narrators and moments in time: The narrator switches to alternating first-person points of view (told by Poppy’s mother and Floyd) interspersed with third-person narration of Ellie’s experiences and Laurel’s discoveries in the present. All of these devices serve to build palpable tension, but the structure also contributes to how deeply disturbing the story becomes. At times, the characters and the emotional core of the events are almost obscured by such quick maneuvering through the weighty plot.

Dark and unsettling, this novel’s end arrives abruptly even as readers are still moving at a breakneck speed.

Pub Date: April 24, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-5011-5464-5

Page Count: 368

Publisher: Atria

Review Posted Online: Feb. 6, 2018

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 2018

Did you like this book?

No Comments Yet