Enchantment by Riikka Pulkkinen, trans. by Tabatha Leggett

A singular girl stars in this unusual novel of identity and mysterious death.

Riikka Pulkkinen (True) challenges readers to form their own impressions with Enchantment, a striking novel about girlhood, perception, and death.

“The sun is setting and they’re at the beach. The sky is soft mallow and bronze. It’s the last summer of their youth.” Pulkkinen, in an atmospheric translation from the Finnish by Tabatha Leggett, emphasizes this cinematic view. The next scene, almost a year later, is a forensic autopsy. Philippa Laakso, age 17, has been found dead in the courtyard of her apartment complex.

Philippa is the center of this novel; all gazes are directed toward her. Observations come in various formats: interview notes by police investigators, flashbacks, and descriptions of videos recorded by Philippa on her treasured Olympus PEN camera, a gift from her mother on her 13th birthday. Chapters take the close-third-person perspective of various characters, rarely including Philippa herself. She adopted several personae, beginning with “little experiments in selfhood; facial expressions, gestures, hair flicks, kisses blown to the lens, the camera, whose naive but fearless eye devoured stories without judgement.” Sometimes she co-created her online aliases with her longtime best friend, Saga, dark hair to Philippa’s fair, the other side of Philippa’s coin: “Two girls. Girl and girl. Me and me.”

Philippa is a perfect enigma to those left behind. These include a compassionate, poetic forensic pathologist, who “has always believed that the deceased have a right to carry the truth with them”; an elderly neighbor, a widower, whom Philippa befriended; a woman who appears in Philippa’s videos, screaming in rage; the older men she met via dating apps; the boy she dated seriously and recently broke up with; Saga, her friend and double; and Philippa’s mother, from whom “the girl had learned the art of being a matryoshka. Beneath one layer was always another layer–happy, funny, strange.”

Philippa has given the world many versions. She is a fantasy, a friend, a tormentor, an innocent, a vixen, a hero, a villain. “This girl is rarely considered wise, more rarely still intelligent. She can’t possibly be profound because she’s laughing in her pictures, pointing her chin downwards, like a child. She can’t possibly be reflective, not while she still treats these affects of hers as accessories.”

One of Enchantment‘s central concerns is the question of perspective, of what is possible to know about a person. Pulkkinen’s dreamy novel delves into the line between truth and fiction, storytelling and self-creation. Philippa invented herself, and in the aftermath of her life, police investigate the question of her death, as everyone investigates how to view her and how to remember her. She has “become a dream, gossip, stories,” and readers are left to parse the enchantment that remains.


This review originally ran in the June 29, 2026 issue of Shelf Awareness for the Book Trade. To subscribe, click here.


Rating: 7 cars.

Misery’s Wife by Joan Tierney

Misery’s Wife is a lovely, off-kilter fable about family, sisterhood, love, transformation, and humans’ relationship with the rest of the world. It uses repetition and sets of threes in ways that feel familiar to a fairy tale tradition. I think I was expecting something referencing Persephone or Eurydice, but it turns out that Tierney here recasts a Portuguese folktale, with foods, names and language from that culture. I was unfamiliar but still found it all accessible and enjoyable.

We first meet the parents of three sisters. Agueda and Jaco have three girls, and during each pregnancy, Jaco goes on a mini-quest to ease his beloved wife’s discomforts, and each time, this results in the newborn daughter’s allegiance: Adelina is a child of the night and the sea; Borboleta is a child of the day and the sky; and Dores is a child of the wind and rain, “and Misery itself will bend to kiss her feet.” They grow respectively into a young woman who adores all things strange; one who admires and exudes beauty; and one who is mild-tempered and shy, given to daydreams. In a single day, Adelina elopes with the King of the Ocean. Borboleta runs away with the King of the Sky. And Dores declines the offer of the King of Misery, but he abducts her anyway.

Years pass. Agueda and Jaco mourn their three lost daughters. But lo (the book surprises us), there is a fourth, younger sister, a child of luck and fortune. “There was also the mistaken belief, in those early years, that Elixane was in fact a son rather than daughter… these things happen, and are remedied easily enough once the child themself can put voice to the truth.” As Elixane grows into a young woman, she receives three mysterious messages, one from sea, one from sky, and then a final message from the queen of Misery. “She asks that you find her and save her from her king.” As she prepares for this quest, Elixane meets Luck, who has (naturally) followed her all her life; he is accompanied by his sister, Jinx. Off and on, the pair will accompany her as she meets with each sister in turn, and endeavors to rescue Dores from Misery, as well as lifting a curse and generally improving circumstances in the kingdoms of sea and sky, and that of land and humans as well. Misery’s Wife is set in a future world badly damaged by anthropogenic climate change, which, like Elixane’s identity as a trans woman, is treated only glancingly.

I liked this story, although the stretches set in the kingdom of Misery were sometimes hard to read. I liked the representations of the love and devotion of family, of sisters and of friends, as well as the loving marriages (“When you marry someone, you marry their battles, too”), contrasted to Misery’s abuse (“Dores’s skin was pockmarked with bruises… The cat looked at the bruises and then looked at her eyes and said, ‘This is how it starts'”). I found the folk formula – repetitions in threes, quests and codes and riddles – soothing in its familiarity, which did not prevent plot twists. And I loved the decidedly happy ending. By that conclusion, I’d say that despite some comforting framing, Tierney has given us a surprising, thought-provoking fable that I will not soon forget.


Rating: 7 roosters.

Take Me With You by Catherine Ryan Hyde (audio)

I’m pretty blown away by this one, which seems to have hit me just exactly right.

We begin in scene, and put together details as we find them. A man named August is living, with his little dog Woody, in his RV where it is parked at a car repair shop; he wanted very badly to make it to Yellowstone this summer, but the cost of these repairs may make that impossible. He waits and worries. The mechanic, Wes, wonders if they might make a deal. His two young sons play with August’s dog. The two men talk. Wes is about to go into jail for a 90-day sentence and has no one to watch his boys. He suggests that Yellowstone may still be possible: he’ll do the repair gratis if August will take his sons away for the summer. This is a crazy idea on its face, of course. August is a stranger to Wes. But off we go.

August is a high school science teacher, and a recovering alcoholic, grieving the loss of his nineteen-year-old son almost two years previous. It doesn’t take much to put together that August will be moved by two slightly damaged, very sweet young boys (it’s not like August’s son was ever twelve or seven years old, August’s gruff AA sponsor points out with dry sarcasm), or that the boys, twelve-year-old Seth and seven-year-old Henry, are in need of a patient, stable father figure. Wes, it turns out, is an alcoholic.

August wondered if his job would be different if kids looked up at him with eager faces. And if even these two kids would have been the slightest bit eager for a science lesson if they had been in school. Maybe the school was the problem, August thought. Maybe everybody wants a science lesson if they’re sitting in the middle of one of the greatest geothermal wonders of the world. Maybe we’ve removed all the relevance from the information we teach kids so they have no idea why they should care. Maybe it’s not the kids’ fault. Maybe we made the first mistake. “I’ll start with geysers,” he said.

The odd threesome (foursome, with Woody, who has much to offer) have a pretty great summer together, although punctuated by the challenges of August’s grieving and the boys’ pain. When Wes has gone to jail before, they entered a county facility, and Henry hasn’t spoken since. He speaks, very little, but does eventually speak, to August. The bond is delicate but undeniable. But he’ll have to take them home again.

Take Me With You is gorgeous, wise, funny, heartbreaking, and a lovely evocation of natural beauty in several of our national parks, and of the pain and joy of making connections across grief and trauma. We meet a few indelible characters along the way (and the AA community looks awfully good in this context, really), but mostly it revolves around August, Seth, and Henry, with Wes coming in for the occasional hard edge. There are no villains and no real heroes, although August’s impact on these two young lives is significant.

Everybody is a good person and a bad person at the same time. The only real variation is in the balance.

Jeff Cummings’ narration feels pretty spot-on to me, capturing voices like that gruff AA sponsor, troubled Wes, and the timid cartoon mouse of young Henry’s rare words, as well as August’s careful, intentional slowing down to take questions seriously even when it hurts. The novel is contemplative, lovely in its descriptions, and cautious about coming to conclusions. Some of the relationships it describes are impossibly tender. I would love to continue to know these characters, and will be thinking about this book for a long time. It’s been a special journey; I think it’s going to be one of my favorite books this year.


Rating: 9 pictures.

Strangers Behind Closed Doors by Catherine Adel West

Disclosure: I was sent a galley copy of this book by a publisher’s representative in exchange for my honest review.


Giovanni Mason – Gio to her friends – is the chief concierge at one of Chicago’s most exclusive premier hotels, the Ivory. She was the first Black concierge of any kind, let alone chief, and she’s very proud of this accomplishment, even if her mother (a longtime Ivory housekeeper) hoped she’d wind up somewhere different. Detective Redding Stark has followed her father’s path with the Chicago PD. Like Gio, Red is a workaholic, whose commitment to her work has not always proved healthy. She remains preoccupied with the cold cases of five missing women – young Black women, whose disappearances have been far too easily forgotten by the system Red works for. Then a beauty influencer, who also happens to be Gio’s former best friend, vanishes from one of the Ivory’s extra-rarified upper floor rooms, a room now marked by broken glass and blood splatter. Gio fought with Natalie just hours earlier, and now has bruises on her wrists and no memory of a chunk of her evening. But Red suspects the chief concierge is innocent. She believes instead that Natalie’s case is linked to the others.

The two form, in fits and starts, a mistrustful alliance, motivated by concern that Natalie may be alive and in danger, wanting to prove Giovanni’s innocence, and wishing for justice for women who look like them. There are few people in either woman’s life whom they can trust. Instead, the Ivory Hotel and the Chicago Police Department are filled with politicians, social climbers, and the very rich. In chasing the truth, as they reveal plots, corruption, and double-crossings, Gio and Red place themselves in great danger.

Strangers Behind Closed Doors offers intrigue and action scenes by the truckload. Amid luxury suites, fine dining establishments and neighborhood classics, flower shops and cozy homes, fight scenes and family drama unfold. The impulse toward friendship between Gio and Red feels real, and poignant, even as both are limited by their own trauma. I was definitely propelled by the twisty-turny plot, which kept offering surprises. It was not completely without unbelievable details, but that’s not too unusual in the genre. The background big issue, that the disappearances of women of color are overlooked, is a point well taken. West’s Chicago is well done: it’s not a city I claim great familiarity with, but I recognized some landmarks, and it felt fully realized. I never stopped rooting for the two stars, even in their flaws.


Rating: 7 photographs.

The Art of Charming a Changeling by Sylvie Cathrall

A plucky art conservator must travel into Fairy lands to save her job and a dreamy Fairy imprisoned in a painting.

The Art of Charming a Changeling is an endearing, enthralling fantasy-romance by Sylvie Cathrall, whose imagination takes readers through Folk and Fairy lands, into a painting, and back again.

Florrie Hyverfell loves her work as an art conservator. It’s people she finds challenging. Constantly arranging her face, rehearsing conversations ahead of time, seeking out comforting textures, and managing her interactions with the world exhaust her. She feels fortunate to be employed by Prince Ardant at the Commonplace Palace Museum, where she cares for his extensive collection. He even shares her passion for Fairy paintings, which have become embarrassingly outmoded. The painting he cares the most about is The Resolute Portrait of Vibrant Lord Vernal Mauve Among the Ruins; but to her dismay, Florrie quickly determines it has been replaced by a Fairy forgery. Worse, the counterfeit painting is holding hostage a changeling, a minuscule, near-perfect copy version of Lord Vernal Mauve, who asks that she call him Vern.

Florrie feels a little overwhelmed. According to the Conservators’ Code (which she has memorized), “one must only introduce the mere possibility of a counterfeit after acquiring at least five forms of incontrovertible evidence.” To save her job, and to help Vern escape from the beautiful but closed world of his painting, Florrie is compelled to find the original stolen painting. To do so, she must travel into Fairy lands, where Folk seldom travel. Meanwhile, there is the utter allure and magnetism of Vern, and does he have tiny, impossibly adorable dimples?

Cathrall (A Letter to the Luminous Deep) invites readers into a curious world in which Folk and Fairies have parted ways, with Folk generally preferring simpler technologies (rejecting levitating carts because “nothing feels so real as a wheel”) and eschewing Fairies and their overly embellished art. Finding herself attracted to Vern presents another layer of difficulty to a woman who frequently struggles to find her way. But Florrie is stronger than some might think.

The Art of Charming a Changeling offers an absorbing foray into an imaginative setting populated by art-focused princes, haughty collectors and conservators at odds with one another, fanciful Fairies, and the occasional predatory duck. It contains a sweet and cozy romance, a woman’s journey of self-actualization within a society that undervalues her, and a whimsical fantasy of changeling art. It also features a quest, for those seeking adventure. This first in a planned series will leave all sorts of readers hungry for more.


This review originally ran in the June 23, 2026 issue of Shelf Awareness for the Book Trade. To subscribe, click here.


Rating: 7 seed-loaves.

Agnes Aubert’s Mystical Cat Shelter by Heather Fawcett

Despite not being particularly fond of cats myself, I was charmed by this novel, which offers a few of my favorite Fawcett features: magic, family, wholesomeness, and a gentle arc from prickly acquaintances toward romance, in a cozy package.

Agnes Aubert runs a cat shelter in Montreal, in a version of that city where magic is present, but mostly hidden and only tolerated. She lost her beloved husband a few years ago, and his memory and her mission to save all the city’s cats (!) keep her going; her existence is rather spartan, and highly (you might say pathologically) organized. As a cash-strapped cat shelter (not the most attractive of tenants), she is having trouble finding new lodgings after a magical mishap destroyed her last rental. So she takes – with some misgivings – a suspiciously affordable place that turns out to hide an illegal magic shop in its basement. This results in her acquaintance with Havelock Renard, also known as the Witch King, the world’s most powerful magician. Agnes accuses him of selfishness, and he calls her sanctimonious and condescending. Despite his reputation, Agnes begins to consider that perhaps he is not a ‘dark’ magician after all. For his part, Havelock insists that he would most prefer to be left alone with his novels and magical experiments. She responds that she should at least be allowed to organize his collection of artefacts. Havelock is both allergic to cats and rather like one himself: solitary, contrary, and perhaps in need of rescue.

It turns out that the fate of the cat shelter may well be tied up with the fate of the very world. And notwithstanding Havelock’s unparalleled powers, it may be Agnes – insignificant, unmagical Agnes – who holds the key.

This was laugh-out-loud fun, deeply sweet without hitting (for my tastes) the saccharine, and moving. I will buy whatever Heather Fawcett cares to write next.


Rating: 8 opulent scarves.

Miss Kopp Just Won’t Quit by Amy Stewart (audio)

Here we have book four in the Kopp Sisters series, and I think I’m more and more bought in with each one. There’s a trajectory here. As ever, I’m not sure how much of it is about differences in the books, and how much is me. I always find this a fascinating question, about beers and mountain bike trails and everything else: how much has it changed, and how much is my taste buds / skill level / preferences? We can never know. Thank you for making it through that moment of philosophy, and now the novel.

If anything, Miss Kopp Just Won’t Quit takes a step further from the mystery or puzzle sort of plot, and (while absolutely telling a story about Deputy Kopp and her work) considers the time and time in which it is set.

…the sheriff maintained his posture of unruffled detachment.

I, on the other hand, was the very opposite of unruffled. John Courter was, in every way, a small-minded, petty, vindictive man unworthy of public office. I didn’t care to stand at the edge of a crowd and listen to him hurl insults and lies at us.

What made it worse, though, was that the crowd seemed to love it. It was an uncertain time in Bergen County: there was labor unrest in the factories, a mistrust of immigrants who might be German sympathizers, and the very real fear that a munitions depot might go up like so many crates of firecrackers at the hands of secret agents of the Kaiser. And most of all, there was the absolute terror of war – a war we surely couldn’t avoid much longer.

These people were looking for an enemy, and John Courter had one on offer.

Constance has been at work as a sheriff’s deputy for a while now. She’s been involved in investigations and arrests, including wrestling in the streets with male criminals (she would be affronted that that even needs pointing out). She’s cared for the female inmates at the jail, which includes basic food-and-shelter sort of needs as well as something we might call counseling, and questioning. She has pioneered a system of probation that (with the help of a friendly judge) allows women whose crimes are minor, or that shouldn’t count as crimes at all, to keep their freedom, work, and contribute to society. In a world that still isn’t sure women should do this sort of work, she has not only had some real successes, she’s also gotten to contemplate and enact improvements in the system. She’s the breadwinner for her household of three adult women, with her sister Norma and her ‘sister’ (biological daughter) Fleurette. And in that last role, she has also undertaken some thoughtful changes and modernizations. All of this is arguably made possible by her supportive boss, Sheriff Heath.

Thus the great conflict of this novel: the sheriff is an elected position, and Heath is term-limited. A change is coming for Constance either way, but the two men running for election offer rather different outcomes for her: bad and worse. The shift away from police work and into politics pleases no one – not Sheriff Heath, not Deputy Kopp, and not the reader. But here we are. Constance loves her work, and has found a comfortable place in the world, where she feels good about what she can contribute. In a nutshell, Miss Kopp Just Won’t Quit is about what she’ll do when continuing on that path is no longer an option. It’s terribly sad, but it’s also heartening to see her come to terms. Not all reviewers agree with me, but I really liked the ending, and I can’t wait to see what she’ll do in book five.


Rating: 8 first names.

Brothersong by TJ Klune (audio)

As ever, here you will find spoilers from previous books in the series. And, well, I’m revealing the ‘ship of this novel, but that will surprise no one who read book three.


I love these books and am very sad that the series is over.

Each of four books has focused on the development of a certain couple, and the development of one of the two characters in particular. Wolfsong was Ox’s story, and followed his relationship with Joe. Ravensong was Gordo, and his with Mark. Heartsong followed Robbie on his way back to Kelly. Now Brothersong sees Carter, eldest of the Bennett brothers, move fully into his relationship with Gavin. As the final book, it also wraps the whole larger story, and circles back around to Ox, who has become arguably the heart of the Bennett pack. I laughed, I cried.

I prefer this cover image

One of the things I love most about the Carter-and-Gavin development is that Carter has, until recently, thought he was a straight man. None of the other three couples seemed to struggle with being men attracted to men, although Ox dated some girls before deciding he was bi (or pan – I think they used the term bi). Carter is over 30 and has always been clear that women were for him. But now it is finally clear to Carter (as it has been clear to literally everyone else in his life for years) that his mate – the wolfish term for a deeply felt life partner and soulmate – is Gavin. Carter is a member of ‘like, the gayest pack ever’ (their words), with two gay brothers, etc., etc., and that’s all fine with him, but he’d never expected to be trying to figure out sex with a man himself. He’s both fine with it and quite shaken, and nervous about the actual sex part. I find this a fascinating line of inquiry. Not least, I’ve always wondered how I’d do if I found myself in love with a woman (hasn’t happened yet); I feel like I understand his confusion. And when I talk to young people these days I think about keeping our language open, and I admire the fluidity or the lack of labels that they seem to enjoy. Something about this aspect of the story really appealed to me.

Klune continues to engage me with action, intrigue, drama, pain, love, and yes, sex; I love that we can laugh in the middle of a very compelling sex scene. And he also continues to play with my feelings, threatening to off a major-major character, not for the first time. We continue to learn the rules of this werewolfed world. We have human heroes as well as werewolf ones (not that that’s new). And the pack continues to develop and grow.

I am bereft that this is over. I will miss these people forever. All the kudos to Kirt Graves, as ever.


Rating: 8 sparkles.

The Devoted by Catherine Cho

The fast-accelerating plot of Catherine Cho’s first novel follows a young girl shielded from her father’s criminal underworld as she grows into a woman who must fight to chart her own way.

Literary agent Catherine Cho (Inferno) considers family, legacy, and fate in The Devoted, a deft debut novel of subtle questioning with a fast-accelerating plot.

Eunha is raised by her Korean grandmother in a village in Hong Kong, alongside her older brother, Solomon, and a single occasional visitor, a boy named Kai. It is a life of isolation, purportedly for safety’s sake; the children’s father is a Dragon Head, a powerful leader in organized crime. Eunha is aware from a young age of the powerful forces at play around her, causing her father’s absence and her mother’s institutionalization, bending her brother’s fate, and leading her beloved grandmother to yearn for another life for Eunha. In adulthood, Eunha believes she’s found that different path, but marriage to “a man who had never loved me” and a life of proper lunches at the Palm Club with other wives leaves Eunha no less lonely. Then her three-year-old son is abducted, and that shell of a life, too, is upended.

The child is returned to his mother, apparently none the worse, but Eunha learns yet again that her life is not her own. She begins to push in earnest against the powerful men who have always surrounded her: her father and her brother. In the upheaval, she reunites with Kai, now a Dragon Head as well, both the sensitive, magnetic boy she knew in youth and a frighteningly compelling leader. She considers again her brother and their childhood friend: “The way they turned and bent, synchronized. They looked like separate halves, reflected men.” Eunha questions whether she might still find the unencumbered life her grandmother had wanted for her. Can she keep her son safe? Can she choose for herself?

Much of The Devoted unfolds at a contemplative pace, evoking the powerlessness Eunha feels in her own existence. But as she starts to exert her own will, secrets and betrayals reveal themselves one on top of another, and the novel gathers speed into an electric tale of intrigue, many layered and consistently surprising. Cho’s first novel is at once a family saga, a narrative of identity and belonging, a love story, and a tale of suspense. The deceptively quiet package probes class and respectability and whether one can ever escape their upbringing. Eunha’s struggles are softly spoken but pack a wallop.


This review originally ran in the May 26, 2026 issue of Shelf Awareness for the Book Trade. To subscribe, click here.


Rating: 7 light-up trainers.

Miss Kopp’s Midnight Confessions by Amy Stewart (audio)

I continue to feel deeply involved with the indefatigable Miss Kopp and her earnest pursuit of betterment for herself, her sisters, and her community.

Following closely on the events of Lady Cop Makes Trouble, Constance Kopp efforts at the Bergen County Jail to keep her female inmates safe, in line, and pointed toward rehabilitation. She continues to enjoy a good relationship with Sheriff Heath, whose progressive ideals inspire her. It’s 1916, and times are changing: much of Miss Kopp’s Midnight Confessions deals with the options of young women to make their own way in the world, in terms of work and housing. (Other lifestyle choices remain yet more controversial.) Edna Heustis, for instance, left home to go to work in a munitions factory, patriotically hoping to contribute to the war effort as her brothers prepare to go fight in France. She lives in a respectable (strict) boarding house for young factory-working women like herself – and yet is arrested for waywardness, because her mother would rather she stay home and keep house. Minnie Davis left home with the (perhaps slightly less righteous) ambition of having a little fun and getting out from under her parents’ thumb. Shacked up with a young man she’s not married to, working in a mill and drinking at night, Minnie is likewise subject to criminal charges, just because she’s interested in flexing the moral boundaries of her day. (Minnie and Constance both repeat the question: why isn’t the young man locked up for ‘waywardness’ or ‘moral depravity’ as well?)

Constance feels strongly about defending the rights of women like Edna and Minnie to find their own paths in a changing world. But when it’s Fleurette who wants to leave home and work for a living, and maybe have a little fun – well. Constance’s values will be put to the test. And Norma is even less ready to entertain looser restraints on the youngest Kopp sister.

Norma’s lips worked furiously over her composition. From time to time a word escaped: presumptuous, unconscionable, iniquitous, abhorrent. She took a breath and continued: indecorous, opportunistic, unprincipled, opprobrious.

Fleurette had been right not to breathe a word of her plans to her sisters. Nothing – not a tour with a theater troupe, and certainly not an offer of marriage – stood a chance against Norma’s formidable vocabulary of refusal.

It’s one of Amy Stewart’s greatest strengths that she can tell such complex, fascinating, moving stories about history and women’s rights, alongside absolutely laugh-out-loud funny moments, perfectly played by audio-narrator Christina Moore.

I love the interplay of serious (and true historical) issues with family dynamics and simple human struggle. These moments can be both funny and serious.

Constance had grown to count on Norma to be that domestic presence who sat in the parlor and disapproved of things. She did not, however, like to find Norma disapproving of things at [Constance’s] place of employment, and wished she knew how to discourage the habit.

I’m still having a riotous good time, and simultaneously, enjoying considering some hefty issues through the lens of these expertly drawn mysteries. Three cheers for Amy Stewart, and on to the next one.


Rating: 8 trinkets.