When single mother, Lia, takes her own life and leaves raising her toddler, Joel, up for grabs, four unlikely caregivers join forces to share in his upbringing. The learning curve is hard, but love does its magic until a mistake in judgment threatens to tear apart everything they have built.

Going Home is told in alternating characters' points of view. Joel's POV is only at the beginning, but this is his story, and his toddler behavior, quirky language style, and acceptance of his revolving caretakers made me want to reach into the book and hug him—other characters' behavior made me want to grab them and scream, "Grow Up!" These are just two examples of author Tom Lamont's talent for creating well-developed characters.

Funny, sad, sometimes improbable, Going Home is always heartfelt. The one difficulty I had with the book was believing that a mother who adores her son would choose to abandon him. But then I looked through Lia's eyes and realized she knew her son would be in good hands. Once I bought into this mindset, I immersed myself in Joel's life and watched as four imperfect, well-intentioned friends learned to look beyond themselves and find love in unexpected places.

We'll Prescribe You a Cat is a delightful, quirky, book about the special bond between people and their pets; in this case, unique cats, who may have more lives than the nine we already know about.

When people are beset with unsolvable problems, there's only one place to go—the Kokoro Clinic for the Soul where the strange doctor and his indifferent nurse prescribe the perfect solution for putting your life in order—a cat, yours for a specified number of days. Each cat prescription includes a name, instructions, carrier, leash, and collar. What happens next is up to you. While the learning curve is difficult, the rewards—both big and small, depending on the strength of the prescription, are unexpected and miraculous. These are no ordinary cats. Affectionate, aloof, intuitive, and fiercely independent, these pets burrow into their borrowers' souls, awakening forgotten memories and making them believe in things they never thought possible.

You don't have to be a cat lover to enjoy this book. You just need an open mind and the courage to enter the Kokoro Clinic for the Soul. Sounds easy, but there's a catch— It only opens its doors to those truly in need.

This modern-day Thelma and Louise —minus the violence but plus the hunk—buddy story of a college dropout with a grudge and an 84-year-old woman with a gun— on the run from a decades-long cold case has a lot of things going for it—well-developed characters, plot twists, witty dialog, and a lot of heart. I was really enjoying the read until I came to a plot element/explanation that for spoiler reasons, I cannot reveal. But suffice it to say, it was too similar to the one used in a well-known jewel heist book written for younger readers for me to ignore. It made it hard for me to enjoy the rest of the book, although I did care about the characters, and I thought the backstory and reveals tied things up nicely. The ending was a nice surprise, too which makes me wonder if there is a sequel in the works. Oh and one more thing I wondered about—Does anybody know the statute of limitations on grand theft in Georgia?

This was a hard read for me. I didn't like the main character, and I found watching her descent Into paranoia and possible madness more difficult to endure than entertaining to read. Mostly I felt sorry for her child growing up in that impossible household. Although ambivalent, I kept on reading as the book cover reviews told me to hang in there for the surprise ending, which unfortunately was not surprising due to the obvious foreshadowing. Even though I couldn't identify with the character, I did think she was well developed. It's just that I got tired of her as she battled her demons in an attempt to balance her desire to be accepted in society with her need to avenge a wrong that may or may not have been done to her.

As the daughter of a former stand-up comedian, I was immediately drawn to the story of the young, sensitive, skin-peeling, heart-broken protagonist, Norman Foreman. Told in alternating narrative from the points of view of Norman and his mum (who had some issues of her own to resolve) I loved bouncing between the two as they set forth on an adventure from Penzance to Edinburgh with a new best friend as their guide—a journey reminiscent of Milo's in The Phantom Tollbooth if he had set off with Bridget Jones and Ove instead of Tock and the Humbug. I cheered each milestone as Norman collected new friends along with some old jokes as he persevered in his mission, which like Milo's was thought to be impossible. The Funny Thing About Norman Forman is the more you get to know him, the more you understand his drive to succeed, his love for his mum, and his unwavering desire to fulfill a promise to a cherished, but recently departed friend.

He Started It is a lot like reading Hansel and Gretal, except the author uses carefully placed plot bombs instead of breadcrumbs to lead you down a tangled trail of deceit, greed, violence, and revenge. Even with the cannibalistic witch, H and G's walk in the woods was preferable to the family road trip, or should I say trips, from hell a group of siblings embarks on— first somewhat unwillingly as children and later driven to as adults to fulfill their grandfather's dying wish— and claim their inheritance.

With millions at stake, alliances are made, plots are twisted, and secrets are revealed, little by little. It's hard to know who to trust. And that was my problem with the book. While it was cleverly written, and the story did keep me guessing, the ending was unsatisfying and the characters were so conniving and unlikable that in the end, I didn't really care who started it or for that matter, who won.

From the very first bullet-ridden sentence, I was hooked on this fast-paced mother and son journey from Acapulco to the promised land of El Norte. American Dirt is an immigrant story blending unconditional love with the sheer will to survive — told in compelling prose with characters so real, you sometimes want to reach in and shake them. Alternating terror and compassion, the author takes us on an unforgettable ride proving what we knew all along — friendship with the head of the cartel is never a good idea. On the road, everyone has their own story; nothing is as it seems, and even Lydia, as virtuous and brave as she is, has blood on her hands.

I love this quirky, honest, and thoroughly enjoyable read. The plot, although predictable at times, rings with humor and heart as it explores the intricacies of trust, acceptance, success, and above all, what it means to be a parent. Life gets very complicated when Lilian is asked by longtime, but not recently seen, high school friend Madison to be a temporary caretaker for a pair of twins moving into the mansion she shares with her senator husband (their father) and young son Timothy. Easy-peasy, except for one thing— these guys have an unusual habit of spontaneously combusting when agitated or angered. The twins and Lilian see this as a gift; the senator who dreams of a greater political future— sees it as a liability, and Madison, she just doesn't know what to think.

Nothing to See Here is full of surprises. The characters are well conceived and believable (as believable as children catching on fire can be), and the plot so unique, that with some twists and turns and some very good writing, it shows you that when you play with fire, you're never quite sure who's going to get burned.