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Good Nature
Matt Thomas’s Good Nature is a Western with a generous heart, a sharp sense of humor, and an unusually thoughtful understanding of what makes people tick. Set in the American frontier, the novel follows Jimmy “Little” McLeod, a nearly fifteen-year-old farm boy whose chance encounter with a charismatic cowboy named Ule Anderson sends him riding toward a life he’s only imagined. Little is big for his age, inexperienced in the ways of the world, and wonderfully confident about things he doesn’t yet understand. His eagerness to become a cowboy is both endearing and occasionally hilarious. What begins as a young man’s search for adventure develops into a lively story about loyalty, responsibility, justice, and the people who help us figure out who we are. Thomas gives readers plenty to enjoy along the way, from colorful frontier characters and dangerous encounters to the unexpected friendships that make this story so memorable.
Little is an appealing protagonist because his thoughts are often more complicated than his actions, and he’s constantly discovering things about himself that surprise him. His observations can be remarkably perceptive one moment and gloriously misguided the next. Ule brings warmth, wisdom, and a playful spirit to the story, while Lydia’s strength and independence make an immediate impression. Young Sam offers a different kind of maturity, shaped by experience and an instinctive sense of duty. Then there’s Ivy, whose intelligence, independence, and quick tongue make her a delight whenever she appears. Even the supporting characters have distinct personalities, from a calculating cattleman to a thoughtful marshal who’d generally prefer to be fishing. Thomas has a gift for dialogue, particularly the teasing, questioning exchanges that reveal how people see themselves and one another. The humor feels natural because it grows out of personalities and situations.
Thomas is also a remarkably attentive writer of the natural world. Horses are especially important in Good Nature, and anyone who’s spent time around them will recognize the affectionate precision with which he captures their personalities, habits, and occasional stubbornness. Little’s relationship with his mare is one of the book’s quiet joys. The landscape receives equally careful attention. Creeks, wooded hillsides, open grassland, birds, weather, and changing light become part of the characters’ daily experience. There’s a physical intimacy to the writing that makes the frontier feel inhabited. You can practically hear the saddle leather creak and feel the dust settling on your clothes. Thomas, who is also a poet, brings a keen eye for small details and an ear for the rhythms of speech. His prose moves comfortably between action, comedy, and reflection, allowing serious questions about belonging, cultural identity, loss, and human connection to emerge naturally from the lives of his characters.
What makes Good Nature especially satisfying is the compassion running through its storytelling. Thomas understands that growing up involves learning to question your assumptions, recognize the needs of others, and make decisions when the right course isn’t immediately clear. His characters have different ideas about fairness, courage, faith, and what it means to live a good life, and their encounters give those questions real emotional weight. The novel also explores the complicated relationships among Native Americans, settlers, and the changing Western landscape with curiosity and sensitivity. Through it all, Thomas maintains an appealing faith in friendship, humor, and the possibility of people finding common ground. There’s genuine excitement here, along with tenderness, wit, and the pleasure of spending time with characters who feel thoroughly alive. Good Nature is a book that invites readers to care deeply about its people and the world they inhabit. With the soul of a poet, the instincts of a horseman, and the heart of a born storyteller, Matt Thomas has written a Western as wonderfully alive as the land and people it celebrates.
Pages: 186 | ISBN: 9798235864818
A Thousand Touches
David Shams’ A Thousand Touches is a thoughtful and emotionally engaging coming-of-age novel about family, identity, ambition, and the complicated experience of growing up between cultures. Set in Bardstown, Kentucky, in 2002, the story follows Cyrus Soltani, an Iranian American teenager preparing for his senior year of high school. Cyrus is a talented soccer player with big plans for his future, but he’s also navigating the expectations of his demanding father, the complexities of his cultural heritage, and the uncertainty that comes with becoming an adult. Shams captures a particularly interesting moment in American history, when the aftermath of September 11 still shapes how people see one another. Through Cyrus’s experiences, the novel explores what it means to belong to a community while carrying a family history that stretches far beyond it.
I really enjoyed the book’s portrayal of the Soltani family, particularly the strained relationship between Cyrus and his father, Karim. A successful orthopedic surgeon who immigrated from Iran, Karim is proud, stubborn, deeply emotional, and frequently difficult to understand. His expectations for his children are enormous, and his reluctance to discuss his past creates a distance that Cyrus desperately wants to bridge. Shams handles their relationship with considerable empathy, allowing readers to recognize the frustrations of a teenager seeking independence while also appreciating the experiences that shape his father’s behavior. Cyrus’s mother, siblings, and extended family contribute to a convincing portrait of a household where love, resentment, humor, and cultural traditions exist side by side.
Soccer plays a central role in the novel, and Shams clearly understands the sport. Training sessions, competitive matches, team dynamics, and Cyrus’s determination to improve are described with impressive specificity. These sequences help establish his personality, especially his discipline, competitiveness, and growing understanding of leadership. The novel also makes room for a charming romantic storyline involving Isabella, an Italian exchange student whose arrival changes Cyrus’s expectations for his senior year. Their relationship brings warmth and tenderness to the story, along with the awkwardness and excitement of young love. At times, the detailed descriptions of soccer matches and local geography slow the narrative’s momentum, but they also contribute to the lived-in quality of Cyrus’s world.
Readers familiar with Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake will recognize some meaningful similarities. Both novels examine the experiences of immigrant families and the generational tensions that arise when parents and children develop different ideas about identity, success, and belonging. Like Lahiri, Shams is particularly interested in how the past continues to influence family relationships long after immigration. However, A Thousand Touches has its own distinctive personality, shaped by small-town Kentucky, Iranian heritage, competitive athletics, and the political atmosphere of the early 2000s. Shams also brings an appealing sense of humor to everyday interactions, especially in Cyrus’s conversations with his friends and siblings. The dialogue often feels spontaneous, giving the characters a welcome sense of familiarity.
What makes A Thousand Touches memorable is the way Shams connects the ordinary concerns of adolescence with larger questions about history, prejudice, and family responsibility. Cyrus wants the same things many teenagers want: independence, friendship, romance, and the opportunity to pursue his ambitions. Yet his experiences are also shaped by assumptions about his background and questions about a homeland he’s never known firsthand. Shams gives these competing influences room to coexist, creating a story that feels personal and culturally specific while remaining accessible to a wide audience. There’s genuine affection in the novel’s depiction of family and community, even during its most contentious moments. A Thousand Touches is a rewarding read for anyone interested in character-driven fiction, immigrant family stories, or the sometimes messy process of discovering who you want to become.
Pages: 370 | ASIN : B0HJXS58NK
The Orchard: The Coming of Age of Elsie Bainbridge
In The Orchard, Nyla Courter tells a heartfelt story about finding family, building a meaningful life, and discovering what it means to care for others. Blending historical fiction, Christian fiction, and coming-of-age fantasy, the novel follows Elsie Rose Bainbridge, a nine-year-old girl whose life changes dramatically after her mother’s death. Fleeing an abusive man, Elsie takes refuge in a neglected orchard, where she encounters Theodore Gnome the Fourth, an elderly gnome with an unexpected connection to her family’s past. Theodore becomes her guardian and teacher, introducing her to a world of possibilities she never imagined. What begins as one frightened child’s search for safety grows into a multigenerational story about love, responsibility, education, and the families people create through kindness and commitment.
Elsie is an engaging protagonist because she’s independent, outspoken, compassionate, and remarkably practical. She’s also stubborn, occasionally impatient, and determined to find solutions even when the adults around her have their doubts. Courter gives these qualities room to develop as Elsie grows from a vulnerable child into a capable young woman. Her relationship with Theodore provides much of the novel’s warmth. He’s wise, protective, and devoted to fulfilling a promise, but he also discovers that raising Elsie requires flexibility and a willingness to learn himself. Their conversations bring humor and tenderness to the story, particularly when Elsie’s curiosity challenges Theodore’s assumptions. Their bond gives this coming-of-age novel an emotional foundation that carries through the years.
The orchard itself plays an important role in the storytelling. Its neglected trees, seasonal harvests, and gradual restoration reflect the patience and effort involved in building a better future. Courter spends considerable time describing everyday activities such as pruning trees, tending gardens, preparing meals, caring for animals, and managing household finances. These details give the historical fiction setting a lived-in quality and emphasize how much Elsie learns through practical experience. As the household expands, the narrative explores the joys and complications of bringing people together, especially children who have experienced hardship. The growing cast creates a lively sense of community, with each new relationship introducing different responsibilities, personalities, and opportunities for growth.
Faith is another central element of The Orchard. As a work of Christian historical fiction, the novel incorporates prayer, biblical teachings, and questions about God’s purpose into the characters’ everyday lives. Elsie’s spiritual development feels particularly important because her early experiences give her understandable reasons to question suffering, fairness, and divine love. Theodore’s guidance encourages her to think about those subjects while developing her own convictions. Courter also explores forgiveness, generosity, prejudice, and the importance of education. The novel’s gentle fantasy elements, especially Theodore’s presence and unusual longevity, add a distinctive touch to an otherwise grounded historical setting. Its storytelling is straightforward and dialogue-driven, with a leisurely pace that allows readers to spend time with the characters through ordinary routines and major life transitions.
What I enjoyed most about The Orchard is its emphasis on the lasting difference that ordinary acts of kindness can make. Courter creates a world where offering someone shelter, teaching a child to read, sharing a meal, or providing encouragement can change the direction of a life. The story’s expanding household gives readers plenty of relationships to become invested in, while Elsie’s determination provides a consistent thread through the novel’s many developments. Readers who enjoy inspirational historical fiction, faith-centered family sagas, and coming-of-age stories featuring resourceful young women will find much to appreciate here. The Orchard is a warm, hopeful novel about growing into one’s responsibilities, recognizing the needs of others, and discovering that family can extend far beyond the people we’re born to.
Pages: 354 | ASIN: B0FRG2XP3G
A 50-Year-Old Memory
With Love, Karen follows a young Arts Center worker whose extraordinary week with Karen Carpenter in 1975 becomes a lifelong meditation on love, choice, and memory. What inspired you to tell this story?
Coming perilously close to death. My COVID infection had become so severe that I was waiting for a ride to the hospital. I was looking around the room wondering if I should put price tags on everything to ease the burden on my family. While recovering, I came to understand that my most important possession was not a thing; it was the 50-year-old memory of my time with Karen. I wanted to tell the story of that week and explore how a brief connection can shape the way we understand love, the choices we make, and the memories we carry through life.
How did you use the novel’s coming-of-age structure to show John changing during his brief relationship with Karen?
I kept the reader in the moment with John and Karen, without the older narrator stepping in to explain what he would only understand years later. Their conversations gradually reveal that, despite their very different circumstances, they share many of the same needs and fears. Each can see the other more clearly than they can see themselves. Karen’s affection begins to challenge the stories John has told himself since childhood, helping him view his own life with greater compassion. John’s curiosity, in turn, challenges assumptions Karen has long accepted about her work, her success, and her place in the world. Neither resolves those questions that week, but each receives a different way of looking at themselves. My hope is that readers recognize something of themselves along the way.
How do the pressures of Karen’s public life shape the choices she and John face during their week together?
Karen’s public life shapes the circumstances of their week together, but it isn’t the center of their relationship. At one point, John admits he has actually forgotten she is a celebrity because their private time together is so natural. Yet the demands and expectations surrounding her don’t disappear simply because they have developed that ease with each other. As their conversations deepen, John begins to understand how little control Karen seems to have over her own life. During that week, Karen begins to question how much of her life reflects her own wishes and how much reflects what others have come to expect of her.
What is the next book that you are working on, and when will it be available?
I have no plans to write another book at this time. I’m grateful that With Love, Karen has connected so deeply with readers. It means a great deal to me that they’ve found joy in Karen and John’s relationship and recognized something of themselves in their conversations and the insecurities they shared.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Website
He expected an ordinary workday.
She was just looking for a quiet moment offstage…
With Love, Karen traces the unexpected bond that formed between a young stagehand and Karen Carpenter during the summer of 1975. What began as a chance encounter grew into a relationship filled with laughter, unguarded moments, and conversations that reached far deeper than either of them anticipated.
This isn’t another Carpenters history book. It’s a personal account of one person being truly seen without ever stepping into the spotlight — and of how a superstar could finally be known without stepping out of it. As their relationship deepens, both are forced to examine the paths they are on, the sacrifices they have made, and the unexpected price of becoming the people they thought they wanted to be.
Soliton (The Winter’s Twins Series Book 3)
J. W. Murray’s Soliton, the third book in The Winter’s Twins series, is an expansive fantasy about people trying to protect their families while their world moves toward war. Its kingdoms have distinct histories, customs, and ways of surviving, and the growing conflict forces them to reconsider old loyalties. Murray moves between rulers, cloudship crews, displaced communities, and characters whose gifts carry serious responsibilities. There’s plenty of spectacle here, but the strongest reason to keep reading is personal: these people care fiercely about one another, even when grief and misunderstanding make that care difficult to express.
The cloudships are one of the book’s most enjoyable features. Murray pays close attention to wind, altitude, rigging, armor, and the practical challenges of getting a vessel safely through the sky. That detail gives the flying sequences a satisfying physical weight. You can feel how much depends on an experienced navigator or a crew communicating well. The same care extends to ocean currents, mountain travel, and the different demands of cavalry combat. Floating settlements and underwater communities feel connected to the landscapes that sustain them. I especially liked how often knowledge of the environment becomes as valuable as magical power.
Marek and Elenya give the story much of its emotional force. Their worries about their children, their strained communication, and their conflicting obligations make the wider struggle feel immediate. Murray understands how easily love can become anger when someone feels frightened or helpless. Tylene adds an appealing mix of blunt advice, affection, and impatience, while L’dai’s struggle with identity gives the book another compelling emotional thread. There’s also welcome humor in the crews’ banter and the awkwardness of people navigating unfamiliar customs. Those moments let the characters breathe, and they make the relationships more convincing when the pressure increases.
Soliton reminded me of J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings in its attention to geography, threatened homelands, and the difficult work of bringing different peoples together. Both stories make cooperation feel like an achievement, with courage spread across many characters. Murray gives that broad fantasy structure a distinctive emphasis through aerial warfare and questions about time. Prophecy becomes something characters have to interpret, question, and act upon, often with incomplete information. The tension between a planned future and personal choice is especially engaging. It gives the familiar struggle between light and darkness a specific concern with responsibility and the temptation to control others.
The book asks for an attentive reader. Its many names, titles, factions, and invented terms create a substantial learning curve, and the extensive glossary earns its place. Several conversations revisit ideas about destiny, balance, and sacrifice, which sometimes slows the movement of the story. The strategic discussions are strongest when they reveal competing priorities or personalities alongside the plans. As a third volume, Soliton also assumes investment in relationships and history established earlier in the series. Readers who enjoy detailed fantasy worlds and carefully staged military action should find plenty to appreciate. For me, its best quality is the way family love shapes decisions with consequences far beyond the family itself.
Pages: 335 | ASIN : B0H61X7JVL
What She Stole
Samantha Kolber’s What She Stole makes the desire for a gold sequined purse feel much bigger than the object itself. Its central character, seventeen-year-old Eloise Goldstein, lives in a comfortable New Jersey suburb, where her parents’ insistence that she has everything clashes with her daily experience of fear and loneliness. A shoplifting incident leaves her waiting in a mall security room, and that enforced pause gives her restless mind room to wander through childhood, friendships, and the complicated business of growing up. Kolber builds an intimate novel around those wandering thoughts, showing how wanting something beautiful can become tangled with wanting affection, safety, and a little control over your life. It’s an absorbing approach because Eloise’s impulsiveness and sharp observations come from the same person, and both feel convincing.
The writing is especially good at making emotion physical. Wool scratches, cigarette cases snap, knitting needles clack, and sunlight becomes something Eloise almost wants to hold in her hands. These details give her world a recognizable texture while showing how closely she watches everything around her. Her attachment to trees and open air makes particular sense: she finds comfort in the movement of leaves and the feel of a breeze, and Kolber lets us experience that comfort alongside her. Eloise also has a funny, sometimes cutting way of sizing people up. Her running commentary on clothes, authority figures, and adult logic captures the confidence and vulnerability of being seventeen. The affection between Eloise and her younger brother, Seth, is another strength. Their invented games and shared jokes show how children create small pockets of warmth within an unpredictable household.
The family dynamics brought Jeannette Walls’s The Glass Castle to mind, particularly its combination of affection, humor, and painful honesty about a troubled childhood. Both books understand how a child can recognize a parent’s cruelty and still treasure a moment of tenderness. Kolber gives those concerns her own shape through Eloise’s intensely associative thinking. A sound or a texture can send her into a memory, which leads to another memory, then to a question she can’t quite answer. That movement asks you to inhabit her uncertainty, including the gap between what she remembers and what she understands. The family’s material comfort also gives Kolber room to examine the claim that providing a house and possessions should satisfy a child’s needs. Eloise’s emotional hunger makes that claim feel painfully inadequate.
The novel’s circling structure suits its subject, though the repeated images of light, darkness, hunger, and bodily pain occasionally press a point that a scene has already made clearly. I found the writing most persuasive when Kolber trusted an ordinary detail or an exchange between characters to carry the feeling. Those moments give the book its emotional precision, especially when Eloise’s sarcasm brushes up against her wish to be noticed and cared for. Kolber is attentive to the lasting influence of family habits, the stories people tell about themselves, and the difficulty of making sense of love when it arrives unpredictably. What She Stole is a thoughtful, sensory novel for readers who enjoy getting close to a character’s mind. Its strongest achievement is making Eloise’s longing feel specific enough that you can understand it, even when she’s struggling to understand it herself.
Pages: 230 | ISBN : 1578698847
Goodbye South Africa
Gillian Lynn Katz’s Goodbye South Africa is a coming-of-age novel about the complicated business of leaving home, especially when home is a place you love but can no longer comfortably call your own. Set during the 1960s, the story follows Annabelle Bradlow, a young Jewish girl whose privileged life in Johannesburg is upended when her father, a doctor involved in the anti-apartheid movement, decides to move the family to America. Annabelle is devastated at the thought of leaving her friends, relatives, and beloved nanny, Daisy. She’s also carrying the emotional scars of a childhood car accident and struggling with obsessive-compulsive behaviors that become increasingly difficult to manage. What begins as a family’s escape from a troubled country grows into a story about belonging, religious identity, mental health, and the uneasy relationship between the place we’re born and the place we choose to call home.
One of the novel’s most compelling relationships is the one between Annabelle and Daisy, whose warmth and affection provide the emotional security Annabelle rarely receives from her own mother. Daisy’s recollections of being forcibly removed from Sophiatown also expose Annabelle to the brutal realities of apartheid, revealing the enormous differences between their experiences of South Africa. Katz is particularly effective at showing how political events enter the everyday lives of families, from the constant fear of police raids to the racial hierarchies embedded in seemingly ordinary household routines. The move to suburban New York brings a different set of challenges. Annabelle encounters American teenagers, changing social attitudes, the civil rights movement, and a culture that encourages young people to question authority. Meanwhile, her compulsive washing and fear of contamination intensify, and her parents struggle to understand what’s happening to her. The scenes involving Annabelle’s OCD are among the book’s most affecting, especially when her desperate attempts to feel safe are met with anger and bewilderment.
Readers familiar with Jhumpa Lahiri’s The Namesake will recognize a similar fascination with the immigrant experience and the complicated pull of two countries. Both novels explore how migration reshapes family relationships and how difficult it can be to develop an identity when different cultures make competing demands on you. Katz adds another dimension by placing Annabelle’s personal struggles against the political upheaval of apartheid-era South Africa and the social changes unfolding in America. Religion also becomes an increasingly important part of her search for stability. Her growing interest in the Worldwide Church of God, despite her Jewish upbringing and her father’s objections, introduces questions about faith, independence, and the appeal of certainty to someone whose life has been defined by disruption. Katz’s storytelling is intimate and frequently autobiographical in feel, with a wealth of period details, including music, clothing, food, and the distinctive language of South African daily life. At times, the extensive recollections and historical explanations slow the narrative, but they also give the story much of its personal character.
The novel becomes especially poignant when Annabelle returns to South Africa as a young woman, hoping to recover the sense of belonging she lost when her family emigrated. Her developing relationship with Tommy, a young man she meets through the church, brings romance and the possibility of an independent future. But tragedy forces her to reconsider her faith, her relationship with her family, and the country she once longed to return to. By the final chapters, Annabelle’s understanding of home has changed considerably. Her encounters with apartheid’s everyday injustices, her experiences in America, and her personal losses all contribute to a growing determination to make decisions for herself. There’s something particularly moving about the contrast between the frightened girl who boards an ocean liner because her father has decided the family must leave and the young woman who eventually boards an airplane because she’s made her own choice. Goodbye South Africa is a deeply personal story about displacement, family, first love, and the difficult process of becoming your own person, with a historical setting that gives Annabelle’s journey an added emotional weight.
Pages: 293 | ASIN: B0H73W42GD
