Let the Right Book In

Nothing has felt right since Elle rented out her house to a family through Airbnb. Since coming home from her vacation in France, she feels like she is being watched... “I am no trespasser, I remind myself. You let me in.” Some of the lessons I learnt whilst reading this book: - drinking and driving after one or two large glasses of wine is okay apparently (sidebar: IT IS NOT) - noting all your passwords in one location is a great idea (again: it is NOT) - it might be a good idea to visit your doctor if your insomnia has gotten to the point where you’re going batshit crazy (it bugged me that she didn’t do this) - it’s not a good idea to constantly post clues suggesting the location of your home on social media when you’re a famous author (or even if you’re not famous, for that matter!) - don’t fucking walk home drunk alone on the beach at night - if you have a glass room at the top of your house (pfft, don’t we all), maybe you should invest in some blinds or curtains

Deep in the woods of Maine, there is a facility where kids, abducted from all across America, are incarcerated. “Great events turn on small hinges.” Oh man, starting a new King just feels like coming home after a long day and wrapping yourself in a huge blanket... It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what it is about King’s writing that evokes such feelings, but if I could bottle it up and sell these feelings, I would, because everyone needs to experience it! We all know that King does kids best. From the Loser’s Club in IT, to the boys in The Body, he always seems to nail it! And the kids in The Institute were no exception - Avery was my personal favourite. Add in superpowers and a mysterious Institute and this has all the makings of a binge-worthy story! It’s a little slow at the beginning, but this is usually the case with King as he introduces the characters and the setting, before he puts his foot down and increases the pace. The parts within the Institute were my favourit

The multi-generational story of the Buendía family, whose patriarch, José Arcadio Buendía, founded the town of Macondo, a fictitious town in the country of Colombia. “There is always something left to love.” I have been hesitant about writing this review as I will never be able to do this book justice - it is simply that incredible. So, please bear with my fangirling and inability to put into words how truly magical, beautiful, breathtaking and heartbreaking One Hundred Years of Solitude is. The movement of the story over one hundred years is mesmerising. New characters are constantly being introduced as the family expands, which can be overwhelming at times, but if you have a family tree and give the book the undivided attention it deserves, the pay off is worth it. This is not one to be picked up on a whim, you need to be in the mood to peel back the layers of the Buendía family. And a multitude of layers there are! Crazy things are constantly happening - civil wars, u

The Morrows are a family residing in a secluded farmhouse, far in the Appalachians — far enough that nobody outside of the family can hear the screams... “A party ain’t a party without a splash of red.” If you asked me to describe this book in three words, I would choose the following: brutal, disturbing and tense. So basically any Ania Ahlborn book, right?!  If you think your family is fucked up... meet the Morrows. Families who commit heinous acts together, stay together - is that how it goes?? Ahlborn develops her characters so well that we actually feel sympathy for one of the family members, because you can see right away that he is different - he isn’t straight-up evil like the rest of the clan! And boy, are they evil. What a cast of twisted, depraved individuals! I loved it! I can’t recall the last time I read a book where the tension was just so palpable... the dread continually builds throughout the entire novel to a dizzying finale that is spattered with blood.