Three Days in June by Anne Tyler

As I made my way through the book, it struck me as a heartfelt exploration of past regrets and the desire for redemption. At sixty-one, Gail Simmons is staring down the possibility of retirement or, worse, termination just before her daughter’s wedding. Her people skills, or lack thereof, have put her in a tough spot at work, yet financially, she cannot afford to quit her job.

At the same time, Gail’s daughter, Debbie, is dealing with tensions of her own. A confrontation with her fiancé and a future mother-in-law creates a strain that spills into the wedding plans. Gail, feeling pushed to the sidelines, begins to worry that Debbie might start favoring her future in-law over her. It's a relatable conflict, and readers may find themselves connecting with this story on a personal level. 

At its core, the book delves into themes of family, marriage, and the painful midlife crisis. Gail’s journey is filled with emotional highs and lows. Some will see it as a path to growth and self-discovery, while others might reflect on their own experiences with uncertainty and the search for meaning.

Despite its deeper themes, the book remains accessible and easy to read. It offers a thoughtful, touching experience without being overly complex. A compelling look at the relationships that shape us and the choices that define us.

The Impossible Thing by Belinda Bauer

Near Metland Farm, hidden among the cliffs, a near-mythical colony of guillemots once laid eggs unlike any other. The Metland Egg—cone-shaped, blood-red, and several times the size of a hen’s egg—became the stuff of legend. A prized possession among early 20th-century collectors, it was as elusive as it was illegal in modern times. Most striking of all, the egg was red..

A hundred years later, the Metland Egg has become more myth than reality—until Weird Nick tells his friend Patrick Fort that a strange egg has been stolen from his house. An inheritance from his father, the stolen artifact turns out to be the legendary Metland Egg itself, and its disappearance sets them on a path filled with secrets, obsessions, and the shadowy underworld of illegal wildlife collectors.

What unfolds is a richly layered, dual-timeline mystery, filled with twists that pull readers deeper into both the past and present. The narrative deftly juggles the tension of a classic whodunit with the quiet melancholy of lost heritage and fragile ecosystems. But what truly makes the story stand out is the character of Patrick Fort. His literal interpretation of language, difficulty with sarcasm, and social challenges strongly suggest traits of Asperger’s Syndrome. 

As I reached the end of this spellbinding novel, I found myself both satisfied and haunted. The writing is immersive, the pacing well-balanced, and the tone strikes just the right chord between nostalgic and urgent. And yet, one question lingers, quietly unsettling in its simplicity: Aren’t eggs supposed to hatch?

4.5 ⭐A richly imagined, emotionally intelligent story that combines the thrill of a mystery with the quiet wonder of natural history. Riveting.

The Death Of Us by Abigail Dean

Despite the slow-burn pacing, I found myself completely drawn into the chilling chronology of this story, told through the eyes of Isabel Nolan. What begins as a seemingly ordinary love-at-first-sight moment between Isabel and Edward Hennessy in the '90s quickly unfolds into something far more haunting. The author’s writing style is magnetic — weaving tenderness and terror with equal finesse.

As fear spread through the city, small crimes turned into something far more dangerous — the rise of a serial attacker known as the South London Invader. Starting in the late '80s with petty thefts and break-ins, his crimes grew darker over the years, leading to violent home invasions, torture, and eventually, murder.

Each page is a raw glimpse into the trauma left behind — how victims live under the shadow of being watched, how ordinary life slowly unravels. In 2001, tragedy strikes Isabel herself. What follows is not just her struggle to survive, but to exist. The emotional aftermath is palpable. You feel it in every missed detail, every strained attempt to return to normalcy.

Told in a striking epistolary format, the novel feels like reading Isabel's private messages — personal, vulnerable, and eerily intimate. Her words to address the Invader himself, as if trying to reclaim power over the narrative. The emotional weight Isabel and Edward carry after their trauma is rendered with aching.

This isn't just a story about a criminal — it’s about the enduring wounds left behind, and the quiet, invisible strength it takes to go on living. Every chapter brings new revelations, questions, and heartbreaks. I couldn’t put it down. I give 5 ⭐