My mother never turned the mattresses. That could have been just an odd housekeeping peccadillo if she weren’t the sole proprietor of a bed and breakfast. When I was thirteen, a guest mentioned it on the way out, “Hey, you could let your mother know those mattresses could stand to be turned or replaced or something. That thing had a ditch so deep I might as well have been sleeping in a coffin!” He laughed loudly and shut the door behind him, but his death-related simile made

I can’t stand morality tales. Even Little Women, which was written specifically pushing back against the worst tropes of children’s fiction in its time, feels insipid and lecturing (forgive me, women everywhere!). And especially now as a parent myself, I find Marmie’s perfect parenting infuriating. How come all her little life-lessons and heart to heart talks resonate with her children, instead of getting a blink and a, “Okay, but can I have a snack now?” …But I digress.

Joy was used to having nightmares about her old bedroom; the blood on the floor, the window shattered, the wall buckling in. But for the first time in three months, she had a dream of a bedroom instead of a nightmare—of her bedroom, though she had never seen it before. She woke. Reality snapped back onto her like claws sinking into her chest. Her skin ached with the cold; the grimy quilt she clutched around her was doing little to stop the tremor in her limbs. A cold light

I own a large purse. The point of having a large purse is that I can comfortably fit at least three average sized novels in it and still have room for keys, chapstick, and a wallet. When I am carrying around one of these novels I can fit one of them in my purse. Just one. And if you happen to only be able to get your hands on the Large Print version…you’d better start pumping iron. There are eight of these, written under J.K Rowling's pseudonym, and I’ve found them fascinatin

The funny thing was, one of the teaspoons had not been an enchanted footman, or scullery maid. It was just a teaspoon, and had somehow gotten included in the magic when all the servants had been enchanted into household wares. So years after everyone else had returned to their natural forms, the teaspoon remained, a shiny little exclamation point teetering all over the white tablecloth, trying to run back and forth between Belle and the former Beast and convince one of them

This is a hot-cocoa-on-a-cold-day book series. It’s clean, hot towels just out of the dryer. It’s fresh green grass and sunlight on a spring day. Whatever makes you smile, sigh happily, and feel contented with the world, that’s what this book series is like. It is in fact, so good that after the first in the series was given to me as a gift (Thank you, Kesse) I actually went out and bought the rest of the series—new! I never buy brand new books! And the premise! It just tic

Have you ever wanted to read sci-fi and historical fiction simultaneously and just can’t manage holding two books at once? Your solution is here! We start with the sci-fi. Oxford, England, in 2060 is the epicenter of historical research conducted through time traveling. Everyone is in complete chaos because Mr. Dunworthy, the don in charge of time travel, has changed everyone’s historical “drops” at the last minute and hared off to London to talk to some time-travel philos

Gina had really wanted to be a therapist. It was admittedly not great to figure that out now, after losing her certification, her receptionist, her only wealthy client, and her professional reputation, but it was a starting place, she reminded herself, and we all need to start with small decisions to help us set big goals. The thing was, she really wanted to be a therapist, but she also wanted money and the things money could buy. Nice clothes, a good car, and an apartmen