Review: "In the Garden" by Amber Stewart

In the Garden by Amber Stewart
Published June 2026
★★★★

The writing had been on the wall for some time when Stewart and her wife pulled the plug. They'd never wanted to leave Tennessee—but it was no longer safe to stay.

I've heard so many people have conversations about this: not just about the US, but these days, in particular, yes, it's about the US. It's one of those things you only think about, or think about seriously, if you're in certain populations, but those populations are vast. For most, the question is ultimately theoretical, but for Stewart and her wife, it was a lot more than that: They had a plan, and they executed that plan. Put a pause on garden plans. Acquired visas, found an apartment, learned Spanish.

Uruguay never would have occurred to me as a haven country in these circumstances, not because I have preconceived notions about it but because I really know almost nothing about it. That's a big part of why I picked up the book; I'm perpetually curious about places I've never been, and of course this has the added bonus (if we can call it that) of involving issues near and dear to me. This is ultimately more about those issues, and the emotional process of upheaval (in many ways this is a refugee story, though Stewart rightly notes the difference in who gets called an immigrant and who gets called an expat, and the same applies to the word "refugee" here), than it is about Uruguay. I did wish at times for more place-specific details; it was fascinating to learn that Uruguay has such strong social protections for LGBTQ people (up there with Iceland and Norway), but I'd also have been very curious about just...more of the daily-life things.

A solid 3.5 stars, and a good one for anyone who has spent time thinking about immigration and human rights, for recent political reasons and for many others.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: Short story: "Twice in a Blue Moon" by Jess Lourey

Twice in a Blue Moon by Jess Lourey
Published June 2026 via Amazon Original Stories

Magic is a way of life for the Blackthorn women—but magic doesn't always make their lives easier.

This is something of an oddity of a short story (not a bad thing), drifting from one sister to another, to a woman who is part villain and part wronged, letting the story expand and contract as needed. When the story opens with Helena forgetting to put the window up at the car wash and simply accepting that she (and the interior of her car) will get drenched as a result, you know this is not going to be entirely normal; when a woman appears at their doorstep, painful tattoos appearing one after another across her skin, and nobody seems terribly alarmed—well, it keeps things interesting.

I'm intrigued here by the moral ambiguity; there are mentions of past events that will make a lot of readers unhappy, but I really do appreciate it when moral ambiguities are presented neutrally, in a matter-of-fact way, largely setting aside right and wrong and moving forward anyway because humans are, by and large, morally ambiguous creatures. I don't think I'll read the full-length book that is connected to this short story, but it was an interesting deviation.

A note: Goodreads has this listed as a new edition of "Seven Daughters", but I think it may have had significant revisions, as some of the things mentioned in the description of "Seven Daughters" (think: snakes) aren't present in this story, and there's a significant page difference—but if you've previously read "Seven Daughters", you might find it interesting to make a comparison.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "One Day, Hard and Clear" by Anne Baldo

One Day, Hard and Clear by Anne Baldo
Published June 2026 via Rare Machines
★★★★

Lucy and Sami are best friends in the early 2000s, dreaming of bigger and better things, dreaming of Paris. They assume, then, that their friendship will stay the same forever, even as everything else changes around them. But things rarely work out that way.

One Day, Hard and Clear follows Lucy and Sami—mostly Sami—as they grow up and drift apart. Sami is infatuated with her sometimes boyfriend, True, even as they body slip in and out of other relationships. I wanted to know if my body would always feel like a live wire next to his, she says. If I would one day forget how I used to fall asleep up against his big back and finally feel anchored to the world. (loc. 328*)

I like a coming-of-age story, and that's just what we have here. Circumstances dictate a lot of Lucy and Sami's choices—they both imagine a world full of possibilities, at least at first, but it's clear that Lucy will simply have more resources to pursue things she wants to pursue, and also that there are limitations even before they get out of the gate.

"Young man" was a compliment, an honour, but even then I knew "young lady" was different, cool and corrective. You only heard it when you were doing something wrong. (loc. 466)

The book moves further through time than I initially expected—I'd thought it might stay in 2004 (so strange that my high school years have become historical fiction), but instead it moves forward and forward again. Sami has a burst of initiative relatively early on, moving away and trying to have an adventure, but, well, things change, and after that she seems largely to take life as it comes to her, accepting the hands she's dealt.

I looked at Bodie, wondering when the moment "I've chosen you right now" mutated somehow into "forever." By then I'd realized what we were, two broken fingers taped together, a busted buddy system. (loc. 757)

I wouldn't have minded a bit more of Lucy's life, for contrast and to see how much their paths truly diverge or don't (is Lucy happy, by the end?), but I liked how real this felt—no great choices or big declarations, just life moving forward and friendship morphing over time.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "We Became Wild" by H.D. Carver

We Became Wild by H.D. Carver
Published June 2026 via Norton Young Readers
★★★

Val is dead—and Lottie had a hand in it. Wracked with grief and guilt, she and her other best friend, Messina, set out on the Pacific Crest Trail, Val's ashes in tow, to escape their pasts, their demons, their home lives. Officially, they're hiking towards something. Unofficially...they both have a lot to run from.

I love a long hike and I love a long-hike book. Lottie and Messina don't set out on the PCT for themselves, exactly; it's something Val had dreamed of doing, and about their only consistent source of information is Val's annotated copy of Wild. They have packs full of supplies, but to say they go in unprepared is an understatement: They are dangerously unprepared, with a lack of knowledge that has potentially lethal consequences. They don't have a viable map; they're in the desert without sunscreen; they don't know how far they might have to walk without water or what a water cache is. The PCT is not for the faint of heart, and well, while neither Lottie nor Messina is the faint of heart, it's also not something that should be approached without forethought and preparation. And yet: Here they are.

This is not a light book. Quite aside from the girls' grief over the loss of Val, they have a lot of reasons to want out of their present-day lives—neither of them has a happy home life, and Messina in particular knows that going home is really not an option. The girls are best friends, but neither of them is in a position to trust anyone with their secrets; at most, they can acknowledge how much they haven't said. They become stronger on the PCT, stronger and to some degree more knowledgeable and more capable (though they're always pretty much flying by the seat of their pants), but the extent to which they become happier or learn to trust each other (or trust themselves!) more is limited at best.

It's messy. These girls' lives are messy, and not in a way that can be untangled through a restorative tromp through nature. (Don't we all wish!) Their physical experience is messy too; there's enough mention of vomit and farts and period-blood-as-warpaint that I checked to see if the writer was a man (old habit that I learned when I was reading Camino books by the handful—women and nonbinary people puke and fart and get horrific weeping blisters and so on, of course, but in my unscientific opinion they're less likely than cis men to write about those things in detail). I think I struggled a bit with both of these things; I really don't enjoy detailed discussion of bodily function (this isn't even that detailed, it's just pretty present), and I also wanted some emotional relief or levity. It makes some sense that there isn't that levity: Their best friend has just died! Messina is constantly looking over her shoulder in fear! They both badly need therapy and responsible role models and a promise of stability. (Also water and electrolytes, both of which are in short supply throughout the book.) In that context, it's probably not realistic to expect a great deal of levity and joy from them...just, when some things did get easier, it was so late in the book, and with so little that came before to indicate something positive to come. The messiness and darkness aren't bad things, and I'd certainly prefer a grungier take to one that is all sunshine and roses (and romance). In the end I'd probably call this a mood read; best if read when in the mood for trauma and grief and grit and grime.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "Bethesda" by Lisa Morris

Bethesda by Lisa Morris
Published June 2026 via Quill & Crow
★★★★

Tryss is just trying to get home to say goodbye to her father, who doesn't have much time left—but when her car runs out of gas (and then breaks down) in a small town she's never heard of, things get...weird. There's no cell phone service, no mechanic, and no apparant way out...and to top it all off, the town's residents appear to be dead. Taxidermied, embalmed, crumbling to dust, you name it.

I don't read a lot of horror, but you know what I do read? I read weird trad wife books, apparently, and when I saw this one I had a sneaking suspicion that it would fit into that subgenre in a weird and unexpected way. It does and it doesn't, though I'm going to count this one as a trad wife book win for being so different from the others that I've read (well—Tryss is still a journalist, which seems to be a theme in these books—but just about everything else is different).

Now, we must be realistic here. In a horror movie, Tryss would die real fast; she has some survival instincts, but she also has a lot of journalistic instincts, and the latter tend to win out. She'd rather run around town and break into buildings to take pictures of dead bodies than she would try to cover her tracks; she's readier to trust the creepy women running the town than she is to, you know, maintain an appropriate level of caution. But then again: This is not a town in which keeping your head down and trying to sneak out past the town lines is really an option.

I did end up with some unanswered questions (in particular, mild spoilers in footnotes*). On the whole, though? Delightfully creepy. Don't read it while eating.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

*What exactly is Barbara's backstory? Who was the deep voice before Tryss was knocked out? Is Barbara running the show, or not?

Review: "Good Luck, Babe!" by Erin Baldwin

Good Luck, Babe! by Erin Baldwin
Published June 2026 via Viking Books for Young Readers
★★★★

Until nine months ago, Noelle and Yumi were inseparable. Then they kissed, and it torpedoed their friendship. But now a reality-show application they sent in before they fell out has come back to haunt them—and because of events of the past nine months, Noelle really needs the prize money. So they're thrown together into a relationship that is strictly for the cameras...and for better or for worse.

I noted when I read Baldwin's first book that it was a delight to have YA enemies who are not awful to each other, and the same is true here. Yumi doesn't want anything to do with Noelle—but under the circumstances she'll do what it takes to work together anyway. They still know each other; if you asked either of them who their person is, they might no longer admit it, but they both know who would come to mind. And more than that, there are no real villains here: There are competitors who Noelle and Yumi don't like, and they're both vividly aware that the reality show has drama rather than their best interests at heart, but the stakes of the story don't come from evil villains.

There are some other small things that could be overdone but that the book turns on its head: Early on, for example, Noelle is given something with intensely personal value. I immediately worried that she'd lose it on the competition—but before I could worry too much about that, she brings that up as a concern, and she's reminded that it is only a thing and it will be okay if she loses it. Not that she won't lose it; that the world will not stop spinning if she does. This is a small thing, but I think it's illustrative of the way the book says "we see those standard plotlines, and we're taking a tangent, thanks".

The plot is lively (though I did spend some time wondering about the environmental impact on, and ethics of, this show), with entertaining side characters and main characters who are easy to root for. I could have used a bit more to the conversation about how the relationship torpedo went down, and also a bit more about how financial matters shook out in the end. But overall? A delight; well worth reading.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "A Hard Freedom" by Dan Chung

A Hard Freedom by Dan Chung
Published July 2026 via Bloomsbury Academic
★★★

Years ago, Chung got involved with an organization dedicated to supporting North Korean refugees and defectors who have made their way to China and, sometimes, beyond. A Hard Freedom tells some of his stories, and some of the stories of the people he's met along the way.

I read Barbara Demick's Nothing to Envy more than a decade ago, and it's stuck with me enough that I take a second look whenever I see a book about North Korea. To be fair, I am curious about most places I've never been (exceptions include Delaware and Tampa), but North Korea is of course unique for its closed-off nature and secretiveness.

A Hard Freedom wasn't really what I expected. Based on the description, I thought this would be largely about defectors' journeys through China (where detection by authorities can mean deportation back to North Korea, and consequently imprisonment in a labor camp) and into third countries (including South Korea). Maybe some anecdotes, but a few people's stories told in full throughout the book. I didn't expect so much of this to be about religion—it turns out that Crossing Borders, the organization Chung is involved in, is a Christian organization, and a lot of what they do centers on religion. Chung says early on that the point of the book is not to proselytize, but that religion is part of his story (and I suppose the organization's), and so he's included it. I do think he tried to limit how much he talked about religion, but it feels like perhaps religion is so ingrained in his life that even limiting how much it comes up in the book makes for...well, quite a lot more than I expected, when I thought I was just going to be reading a book about North Korea.

The book itself was a bit of a mixed bag for me. There's some interesting research and some devastating stories. Crossing Borders works mostly with women, many of whom were sold as wives or slaves when they crossed into China, and many of whom have suffered the sorts of hardships that should be unimaginable. I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about the demographics of people who try to get out of North Korea, but Chung notes that, for various reasons, it's often women of low social status. And again for various reasons, they're incredibly vulnerable in China, and even if they make it to South Korea, it can take a long time and a lot of work and support to reach any kind of emotional and physical stability.

The structure of the book felt disjointed, though, with a fair amount of repetition. Chung talks about a number of women he and Crossing Borders worked with, and returns to some of their stories throughout the book, but I found myself wishing he'd worked with a journalist who was used to teasing out stories and digging deep for details. There are also some odd things, like an out-of-left-field quotation from Elon Musk talking about how much better it is to be a prisoner of war in the US than in North Korea, and like...while I don't doubt that, there's also, like...Guantanamo...and everything the US is currently doing to immigrants...and if someone is going to be quoted on the subject, I'd prefer it to be an expert than it to be an egotistical billionaire.

With all this said: I'd likely still have read the book if I'd known that it was about the experiences of a specific, religious organization, but I'd have adjusted my expectations accordingly. And I'm curious now about the book Chung's former colleague wrote—but I'll go into that one with my expectations a bit clearer, and then I'll go read something a bit more academic on the subject.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "Gutted" by Maide Korte

Gutted by Maida Korte
Published June 2026 via She Writes Press
★★★★

Korte was a city person through and through—but her husband dreamed of life in the country, so they compromised with a rambling old Victorian house in a smaller town. They were better qualified than most to take on a house Project: Korte's background was in interior design, and her husband was a contractor. So she had the vision, and he had the know-how to make it happen...once they got past the structural issues.

I have a longstanding love of house-restoration books. It's not a project that I particularly want to take on—keeping a one-bedroom apartment clean is enough for me!—but to me reading about house restoration is the real estate equivalent of armchair traveling. Bring on the floor plans, the unexpected termites, the dithering over which tile to use, the walls torn down to reshape the space...

Gutted is partly a house-restoration memoir, but more than that I'd say that it's Korte's story of growing up and finding a place for herself, and then finding a new place when things changed. It's a quick read but a fairly quiet book: The basic house restoration took years, and if I had to guess I'd say that the finer details are ongoing; Korte doesn't chart the process from beginning to end but rather dips in and out, highlighting certain areas (my mind was boggled by the idea of a space that may have been designed with pre-burial casket viewings in mind) and leaving others untouched. 3.5 stars for me (predictably, I would have liked more house details), but will be higher for those looking for something that is more about family and figuring oneself out.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "In Every Possible Way" by Alicia Thompson

In Every Possible Way by Alicia Thompson
Published June 2026 via Berkley
★★★★

Jess is fresh off a bad first date in her home of Florida, and she's ready to throw in the towel when life throws her for a loop: She's mugged, she hits her head...and she wakes up in Ireland. No passport, no money, no idea how she got there or how to get home. And no contacts except Eamonn, the first man she meets there...

I am predictable: I like travel books (even if that travel is accidental), and I like books set in places I don't know well, and I like nontoxic relationships. Also, I don't always read (or remember) the entire description before I commit to reading a book, because aren't books a bit more fun with an extra element of surprise?

Fortunately, this one delivered. Jess ends up seeing a fair amount of Ireland over a short couple of days, some of it touristy and some of it a little more off the beaten path. There's a sort of dreamy sense to her experience there, because she knows full well that she shouldn't be there, that it makes no sense that she's there, that it can't last. And every so often we get a reminder from Florida that the universe, too, knows that the time can't last. (Jess tries to go to the US embassy to get things sorted out, but it is conveniently a holiday weekend, so there's time to get caught up in things.)

The romance is sweet. Jess and Eamonn have a good dynamic, initially pretty uncertain but always respectful. We have some of the typical "he thinks she's dating someone else", but they get over that reasonably quickly. The chemistry is there early, but the figuring out what to do with it is more complicated...especially for Jess, who of course knows things Eamonn doesn't.

A few quibbles: I didn't like the epilogue—in retrospect I should have just skipped it, but of course you never know that going in! Late-in-game POV shifts always throw me for a loop, and it just didn't feel necessary. I'd also like to know just what Jess would expect at the US embassy in Ireland. Contacting the embassy is the logical thing to do if you've lost your passport on vacation, yes...but imagine the questions for someone in Jess's situation! No passport, but also no record of ever entering the country...and also no record of her ever having a passport, because, well, she doesn't have a passport. I mean, obviously there's a reason the story goes off in a different direction, but I am bad at suspending disbelief (see: me being predictable), and I think I just could have used a bit more acknowledgement that as complicated as things are, they have the capacity to get much worse, very quickly.

But overall? Much fun. This is the second of Thompson's books that I've read, and it was a better fit for me than the first (which was also fine, just—it wasn't set in Ireland). Would read more along these lines.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "Long Island Girls" by Gabrielle Korn

Long Island Girls by Gabrielle Korn
Published June 2026 via St. Martin's Press
★★★★

Long Island, 2005: Susan feels awkward and out of place in her teenageness. A chance encounter with Eliza leaves her reeling—both because of her own inadequate reaction to revelations about Eliza's experiences and because Eliza awakens something in Susan that she hadn't really been aware of. It goes nowhere. And for years after, Susan wonders: Was she the one?

It's so odd to be old enough that formative periods of my childhood are now historical fiction. Long Island Girls doesn't stay in 2005—every so often it jumps forward, and Susan ages, and the historical context changes. Susan is involved in the music scene, parts of which go a bit over my head (I skipped the whole pop culture thing when I was a teenager), but her understanding of what is normal and what is okay in the music scene changes as she ages and as cultural understandings change.

Susan thinks: I'm just learning a lot about who gets to make art in this city. (loc. 930*)

A number of themes run through the book, but one of the ones with the most sticking power is Susan's nonrelationship with Eliza. Their first interaction is something fleeting, but over the years they run into each other again, and again, and each interaction rewrites what Susan knows about Eliza, and sometimes what she knows about herself.

"You're not going to want to hear this," he says, "But I don't think we ever really get over the things that end before they begin." (loc. 2647)

At times I wished Long Island Girls had stayed in the 2000s, just because it felt so strange and specific to read about my own teenaged years—I turned 17 and graduated from high school in 2005—through the lens of historical fiction. The book wouldn't be able to do a lot of the things it is doing without spanning decades, though. I'm so curious to see how this will land for people from different generations—from we millennials (nary a mention of avocado toast, I should note) who remember a time when landlines were the norm to those who have grown up with and on social media.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Thanks to the author and publisher for inviting me to read a review copy through NetGalley.