When Cody Blaze meets his father, Russell, for lunch he has no way of knowing it will be the last time he sees him alive. A few days later, Russell is killed. It appears he fell asleep while returning from some out-of-town business and drove off the highway.

After the funeral, Cody is at the family home consoling his mother when he discovers a letter addressed to him in his father’s home office. The letter is written by Russell and discloses that if Cody is reading it, he didn’t die accidentally as it may appear. He’s been murdered.

In the letter, his father entreats Cody to read his unfinished memoir not with the intention of discovering “the motive for my death and the probable identity of my murderer”, but because “there’s so much about my life you never knew about, much of which leads up to this moment of my demise”.

As Cody begins to read the memoir, he discovers he never knew the details about his father’s early life, a life filled with violence and tragedy.

Russell Blaze grew up in the sixties and his memoir is steeped in the hippy counter-culture of the time as well as the eras’ turbulent politics. But it’s his own family members who are the most troubling including his younger brother, Leo, who when still a juvenile murdered their abusive stepfather.

Russell goes on to become a successful journalist, marry a black woman and have a child, while his brother, once out of prison becomes a proponent of white supremacy and lives a marginalized life of hate and violence.

Fate sets the two of them on dramatically different journeys only to converge with deadly consequences.

On the surface, Words Kill is a murder mystery and, in that regard, its plot is somewhat contrived. However, author David Miles Robinson has offered

us much more than a whodunnit. He’s written a book that showcases the big issues of that time in American including the War in Vietnam and others that still resonate today including the prevalence of post-traumatic stress syndrome among veterans, alcohol and drug addiction, and particularly racism. He also digs deep into a dysfunctional family dynamic and reveals how damaging events in early life can manifest into catastrophic results years later.

I particularly enjoyed this book because of Robinson’s realistic take on interracial relationships as well as his authentic depiction of the dark side of the hippy lifestyle. It wasn’t all sunshine peace, and flowers during the Summer of Love.

I write this review as a member of Rosie’s Book Review Team (authors, check here if you want to get your book reviewed) and thank her and the author for the ARC copy of the book, which I freely chose to review.

I occasionally read romance novels although I am not their number one fan, but there was something about this book that called my attention from the very beginning. I am always attracted towards stories that are set in special locations (real or imagined) and the description of the island definitely fitted the bill for me. And, in this case, first impressions were right.  I loved the story and the place, and I wish it existed and I could be a part of the community in Little Sister.

The story is narrated in the third person from the point of view of two female characters, Kathleen, who returns to Little Island as an adult (after a traumatic breakup with her on-and-off girlfriend of 14 years), and goes to live to the house of her recently deceased grandmother (although she had not been back there since she was a child due to a very traumatic event), and Molly, the island’s sheriff, and also a handywoman, who loves restoring and repairing boats, but can set her hand at anything that needs repairing (even a broken heart). Although they are suspicious of each other at first, it is clear that they are meant for each other, but, as we all know, the path of true love never does run smooth, and there are a number of obstacles on their way, some of their own making, but others to do with childhood trauma, dysfunctional family relationships, and a past that refuses to be buried. If you are a big fan of romances, LGBT or otherwise, you do not need to worry. Although I won’t discuss the ending to avoid spoilers; I think you’ll be happy with it.

The author creates realistic characters we care for, and not only the protagonists. While Kathleen and Molly can be stubborn and blind at times (and even annoying, but ultimately likeable), there is a full catalogue of fabulous secondary characters, including Molly’s family (her wonderful parents, and her brothers, including Aidan, who is an integral part of the incident that made everything change for Kathleen), sisters Olivia and Louisa (who always carry the ashes of their father with them), Rebecca, the librarian and depository of the island’s traditions, and many more. Oh, and let’s not forget Blossom, a stray dog adopted by Kathleen (well, the adoption is mutual), that is both a totally realistic dog and a fantastic and heart-warming character.

There is lovely food, a variety of ceremonies and traditions, a strong sense of community [including matrilineal heritage that reminded me of the book The Kingdom of Women by Choo Wai Hong (you can read my review here)], secrets, deception, ecology and renewable energy, and plenty of love, not only between the two women, but between all the members of the community. The sense of belonging and the healing and growth of the characters is intrinsically linked to the way of life in this island that mixes Irish folklore and beliefs with Native-American (First Ones) ones. Werlinger creates a beautiful setting, both in its landscape and spirituality. Readers feel a part of this wonderful community, and I, for one, was sorry to come to the end of the book and would love to live in such a place.

The writing ebbs and flows, allowing readers to enjoy the descriptions of the island, its inhabitants, their actions and also their mental processes, although I did not find it slow and I was hooked to the story and the feeling of becoming one with the inhabitants of the place. As a writer, I easily empathised with Kathleen, who is an editor and also creates book covers, and I enjoyed the fact that female and male characters are diverse, are not restricted to standard gender roles, and the attitude of the islanders towards same-sex love is open and unquestioning. There are certain necessary characteristics that make a relationship truly compatible, but gender is not one of them.

As readers, we share the thoughts and experiences of the main characters although the third person narration also gives us enough distance to be able to make our own minds up. There are some surprises, some quasi-magical elements, some light and fun moments, but there are also nasty characters (although these are always outsiders), and intuition and family connections are very important. As for the love story, there are some sexual elements, but not a full-blown graphic description of events, and I found it rather delicate and in good taste (and I am not a fan of erotica).

I wanted to share a few things I highlighted:

Normally, those messages would have torn at Kathleen’s heart. But she wasn’t sure she had a hart any longer. She tapped her chest, half expecting it to sound hollow, like the Tin Man.

“It should be a mix. None of us is just one thing, complete in and of ourselves. We are the island, and the island is us.”

“That is not how it works. Love that has to be deserved or earned was never love to begin with.”

A joyful read, which I recommend to readers who enjoy books set in special locations, who appreciate a strong sense of community and belonging, and love solid characters. There are ups and downs, happy and sad events, although it is not a book for lovers of adventures and frantically paced novels. This is a contemplative and inspiring book, heart-warming and positive. If you need a pick-me-up, this is your book.

Behind the doors of Wentworth House, one of the largest and most beautiful estates in England, lies a mystery that the Fitzwilliam family wanted to keep hidden from public scrutiny. Hiding their secrets became such an obsession and in 1972, 16 tons of historical documents that covered three decades of the 7th, 8th, and 9th Earls Fitzwilliams was destroyed by flames that burned for three weeks. The destruction was not accidental. The fires were ordered by the 10th Earl Fitzwilliam, the very last Earl Fitzwilliam.

I enjoyed the historical elements and family intrigue. There was certainly enough drama but some portions contained painfully long descriptions that I felt were unnecessary to the story. Interesting family but one I'm glad I never had to meet. Reading about them was enough. After a while, I must say, this dysfunctional group left me chilled and bored. 

Special thanks to Penguin's First to Read program for a digital copy for review.

Review to come 

Note: I received this book for free from the publisher via Edelweiss in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.

The thing about reading debut novels is that you never know what to expect. This abyss of the unknown is exacerbated when you have the privilege of reading a review copy. While not knowing can be disconcerting to some readers, I think it is precisely that which heightens the thrill of a book. In the case of Chop Chop, the element of surprise is crucial, so if my review comes off as vague, I apologize.

One of the main draws of Chop Chop for me was the protagonist's profile. He was in his early twenties, fresh out of university, trying to find his place in the world. Monocle, as I came to know him, had a strong voice that was uniquely his. After the first few pages alone, I already had a good sense of the kind of person he was. His expression contained so much snark, it stood out against his innocent demeanour. The crudeness of his co-workers in the kitchen offered an unlikely juxtaposition between them and this graduate chasing literary greatness, thereby combining a myriad of world views.

Chop Chop portrayed the very real struggles of someone desperately holding on to make ends meet. Too proud to return to his parents, Monocle rather faced impossible tasks that were thrown his way than admit defeat. It was the witty narration that hooked me, so that I even read portions of the book that had me squirm uncomfortably. That is the nature of black humour. No matter how twisted a situation, the discomfort of indulging it anyway is lessened because the humour seemingly removes you from the warpedness of it all.

Simon Wroe definitely knows how to spin a tale. His characters in Chop Chop were vivid and colourful despite the dark and dreary circumstances they were in. Wroe masterfully captured the complexity of personalities, constantly smashing stereotypes. I particularly appreciated the presence of Harmony. She asserted herself wonderfully amidst the testosterone-filled kitchen, existing not for the sake of romance but as an essential fixture in and of herself.

Readers looking for New Adult books that aren't confined to romance might just find what they are looking for in Chop Chop. This books fills the gap well, and I can only hope to find more books that deal with the plights of twenty-somethings today.

This review is also available on dudettereads.com.