Good morning, my fellow book lovers!

Ever been on pins and needles, anxiously awaiting an ARC to show up on your doorstep like a long-lost friend? Or are you the type to shrug off deadlines, treating them like pesky flies buzzing around your head? I’ve been trying to map out my reading and reviewing schedule weeks—no, months—in advance. I requested to review Widow's Point by Richard Chizmar and W.H. Chizmar, with the grand plan of posting my thoughts today, September 26th. Typically, I don’t post reviews on Fridays, but the universe seems all too eager to book my calendar!

Just looking at the box office numbers, it's clear that M3GAN 2.0 was a complete flop—raking in a paltry $39 million worldwide against a reported budget of $15 to $25 million. In comparison, the first film nearly reached the $182 million mark globally. However, despite whatever its earnings are from digital and physical media, it flopped hard. I still had a curious itch to see it, but not enough to shell out serious cash at theaters. Seriously, theater owners must rethink those outrageous ticket prices if they want moviegoers to return.

As for my journey with M3GAN ^[*] (2022), I came to it late—much like the awkward kid who shows up to the party after everyone has already left. I initially dismissed it; the trailers made it look downright silly. No matter how many people raved about it, I resisted. Then I was struck down by a nasty flu bug, found myself curled up in a recliner, wrapped in a blanket, with nothing to distract me. That’s when I stumbled upon the film streaming on Peacock. With nothing else to do, I clicked play. And what do you know? I actually loved it! No sugarcoating here—it's dumb and campy, and it features the emotionless charged performance of Allison Williams, and somehow, despite all that dreck, it entertained me in a wonderfully absurd way. So, despite the cacophony of negative buzz around the sequel, I still felt drawn to give it a chance, hoping for that same brand of mindless fun.

Now, onto M3GAN 2.0. Imagine this: an autonomous android, engineered to be the ultimate weapon, threatens M3GAN's beloved Cady. M3GAN persuades her creator, Gemma, to give her a shiny upgrade, transforming our beloved A.I. diva into an even deadlier force. Decked out with wild enhancements and her iconic attitude, M3GAN faces off against a wannabe techno-terror in a showdown that could have crowned the ultimate queen of mayhem.

Daphne du Maurier (1907-1989), where have you been all my life? That’s a question I've pondered after diving into her Gothic romance, Rebecca, in 2020, shortly following my viewing of the Netflix remake. Just a side note, though: I’m firmly in the camp that prefers Alfred Hitchcock’s brilliant 1940 adaptation. But I digress.

In a serendipitous twist, I found myself collecting various older editions of Rebecca and other du Maurier works, and I can confidently say she has skyrocketed to my top ten authors list, nestled comfortably alongside Shirley Jackson. Mark your calendars for September 30th, folks! That’s when Scribner is set to release a fresh edition of du Maurier's previously published short stories. I can already hear the naysayers grumbling about the estate milking its deceased author’s works. But honestly, I see it differently. Reviving these classic texts, with the family’s blessing, opens them up for a new generation of readers. If it weren't for the remake tie-in edition, I might never have discovered Rebecca in the first place. So please, keep those reprints coming, publishers!

Daphne du Maurier is best known for Rebecca, hailed as “one of the most influential novels of the 20th century” by Sarah Waters, and the basis for Hitchcock’s iconic film. More than thirty-five years after her passing, her Gothic brilliance and piercing psychological insights continue to resonate with contemporary authors, such as Ottessa Moshfegh, Maggie O’Farrell, Lucy Foley, Gillian Flynn, Jennifer Egan, and even the father-and-son horror aficionados like Stephen King and Joe Hill. Speaking of which, if you’re a King fan, you’re in for a real treat—with a glowing introduction to After Midnight, where he shares his appreciation for du Maurier’s work.

Has anyone taken the time to count the number of detective book series that have emerged in recent years? It's like a tidal wave of them, isn't it? Some are gems that keep you up at night, some are just passable, and then some make you wonder why you wasted your time—at least that pretty much summarizes my reading escapades. I've been hesitant to read new series lately, largely because I’ve experienced a fair share of disappointments. A lot of the titles and covers seem to be misses rather than hits, lacking that spark to draw me in. But then, along came Serves You Right by Orion Gregory. The cover caught my eye immediately—there's something ethereal about the see-through silhouette of a woman. I found myself contemplating her identity. Is she the intrepid detective in pursuit of a killer, or is she the hapless victim? The intrigue sucked me in.

The plot centers around rookie detective Sydney Livingstone, who believed she was trading the high-octane world of professional tennis for a more serene existence in Walsh County, Ohio. Freshly engaged to the charming Enzo, she imagined herself sipping morning coffee and solving small-town mysteries. What she got instead was nothing short of a waking nightmare. A faceless vigilante, who ominously calls himself The Enforcer, emerges from the twisted echoes of the dark web, launching a war not just on criminals but also on a justice system that has failed them time and again. With icy precision, this self-proclaimed executioner starts eliminating targets across the region, leaving behind a digital trail of blood and chilling manifestos. And suddenly, Sydney finds herself not just in the line of fire of a killer, but entangled in something far more sinister.

As her department struggles under escalating threats, the plot becomes even murkier when an unnerving stalker begins tailing a veteran officer. The line between predator and protector blurs, forcing Sydney to question everything: Are these attacks part of a meticulously calculated crusade, or is something darker unraveling before her eyes? When damning evidence implicates someone from within the force, Sydney is thrust into a whirlwind of doubt—about her colleagues, her own instincts, and the strange coincidences surrounding her arrival in Walsh County.

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Today, I'm tackling The Sequel by Jerry Jamison, an author whose name rings a bell, though it's the first title of his I've picked up. Perhaps his books have crossed my path before, but for whatever reason, this one is my introduction to his work.

I must admit, I have a certain admiration for an author who takes the time to address readers directly, revealing how Stephen King's Misery influenced him, among other inspirations for The Sequel. It’s always intriguing to peek behind the curtain of an author's mind. However, I’m feeling a bit foggy today, and I have a nagging suspicion that my review might be more of a winding road than a straight path. Let’s just hope nobody’s left wondering, “What the hell is Billy rambling about?” So, with that slight trepidation in mind, let’s discuss The Sequel.

The plot unfolds through the eyes of Judd Whitfield, a beleaguered book editor working for a second-rate crime novel publisher. Judd, a writer in his own right, feels his job is beneath his talents—a sentiment that many a creative soul can relate to. Then things take a darker turn when he suspects that his stunning wife is having a dalliance with her boss. As he grapples with jealousy and betrayal, his mental state starts to unravel.

Insomnia has its perks and curses. Sure, the midnight oil burns longer when sleep eludes you, which means there’s plenty of time to read new books. Yet, that elusive rest often leaves you with the dreaded brain fog, akin to waking up after a wild night of debauchery—sans the actual debauchery, of course. Instead of clutching a toilet bowl, I'm sitting here, jittery from coffee, desperately trying to pen down these thoughts. So, buckle up and enjoy!

Let’s delve into Split, a horror novel penned by Sarah McKnight-I, an author I hadn’t encountered until now. Apparently, she has another book called Carousel that’s gained some traction in the horror community. I’ll admit, I picked up Split solely based on its cover, which screams bad early '90s direct-to-VHS rental—a guilty pleasure for nostalgia lovers like me. There's something enjoyable about bad horror flicks, except for those recent ones that miss the mark entirely—they just don’t have the same charm.

The story revolves around Holly Doyle, a recently separated mother of two, who dreams of giving her children a semblance of normalcy after the upheaval of her divorce. When she finds what seems to be the perfect house to rent, a wave of relief washes over her, signaling a fresh start. But, as is often the case in horror, things are not what they seem. The ancient house has its quirks: a basement door that refuses to stay shut, a family cat reacting to unseen terrors, and Holly’s young son exhibiting behaviors that raise red flags bigger than a bull at a rodeo.

Didn't I just say it was too early to dive into Christmas-themed books? I’m not losing my marbles here; I distinctly remember shouting this in another review. Yet, here I am, gleefully thorny about yet another book that really should've waited until the leaves started turning and the air turned crisp—preferably November or December—not September, for crying out loud! It’s not even Halloween yet! Jeez. But enough with the nitpicking; let’s get on with the meat of it...

Last week, out of the blue, an ARC of The Heart of It's a Wonderful Life by Jimmy Hawkins landed on my doorstop like a snowflake in July. Hawkins, the man who played the adorable Tommy Bailey in the 1946 classic, brings to life a story that was surprisingly born as a flop; back in the day, audiences didn’t quite know what to make of it. This book, more of a novella at 183 pages, turned out to be a quick read for me, courtesy of the fine folks at Harper Horizon. I’ve got a stack of books that would rival a skyscraper, and this happened to be my second unsolicited read of the week. Normally, I would brush these aside, but something about this one piqued my interest—maybe it was my greedy hands savagely reaching for nostalgia.

But I digress.

In this delightful little book, Jimmy Hawkins leads us to the heart of what makes It’s a Wonderful Life resonate with audiences—even today. It’s not just about an iconic message or unforgettable lines; it’s about the sheer unstoppable passion behind its creation, fueled by the vision of director Frank Capra.

The Sunday Post, Issue #282

The Sunday Post is a weekly event hosted by Caffeinated Reviewer.

The Editorial

Hypnos, the sleep god himself, must have decided to play a little trick on me last night. I tossed and turned like a fish out of water, finally succumbing to sleep in the early hours when even the moon seemed to be dozing off. Now, I find myself writing this post later than expected, bleary-eyed and wondering if the world has taken a turn for the bizarre. Seriously, Mother Nature, pick a season! Your indecision is wreaking havoc on my allergies, doing acrobatics that could drive anyone insane. One minute it’s late summer, the next it’s autumn. Get your act together!

As for my week, well, it was another wild ride. My mother had yet another episode. Instead of heading to the understaffed local hospital—a place so bleak it could double as a set for a horror film—she was transported via ambulance to the NKC hospital, which has mysteriously changed its name. It’s surprising how something so small can be packed into a big city. My dad and I rushed to see her before visiting hours slammed shut like a trapdoor. Quick tip for the wise: steel-toe boots are not the best choice for a hospital visit; security will take one look and decide they need to pat you down like you’re carrying a weapon.

Fortunately, she was only there overnight and is now on more medication than a middle-aged man at a rock concert. Out of respect for her privacy—and her preference for keeping family in the dark—I'm going to keep the specifics to myself. The responsibility has largely fallen to me. We’ve got the first appointment with a specialist at the end of October—unless a miracle occurs and someone cancels. Just a meet-and-greet, mind you, with the real business to come later. For now, though, it’s all about keeping her stress levels down and monitoring her blood pressure. Explaining a potential Thanksgiving dinner cancellation to relatives without divulging the whole saga? That’ll be fun. I’ll think of something believable!

Today, I'm featuring The Rustler Hunter, a new release—at least I think it's new. I grabbed this book from BookSirens, but in my whirlwind, I forgot to check if it’s already out. Let's just call it a fresh take on the Western genre, or more specifically, a Christian Western—yes, those exist. It’s reminiscent of the classic Westerns we adore, but with a twist: scriptures woven into the narrative and an underlying theme of faith. Some readers might roll their eyes and shy away because, let’s face it, they aren’t looking for a sermon alongside their shootouts. Personally, I have no qualms; I once went through a phase where I gobbled up Christian historical romances like popcorn at the movies. No judgment here!

The story revolves around the enigmatic J.J. Westin, known far and wide as the infamous Rustler Hunter. He’s plunged into the gritty world of Arizona Territory's largest cattle ranch, intent on rooting out the rustlers draining it dry. But these aren’t your typical thieves; they’re trusted cowboys sneaking around from within the bunkhouse. Just when he thinks he’s got it all figured out, he crosses paths with Hayley Harper—the tough-as-nails cook with a secret identity. Hayley is not just a survivor; she’s a Pinkerton agent on the same case, all while being the daughter of the infamous outlaw Galen Harper. Talk about family ties!

As if things weren’t complicated enough, their undercover operation goes sideways, exposing a sinister web of corruption that spans across three territories. With enemies zeroing in and bullets whizzing by, this legendary manhunter and the outlaw’s daughter must navigate the treacherous badlands of 1898 Arizona, a landscape where trust is as rare as a blue moon and justice might just come at the end of a gun.

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Welcome to the Book Blogger Hop!

This Week's Prompt:

Do you know more than one language? If so, do you read books published in other countries?

My Answer:

Alright, let's address the elephant in the room: my English skills are distinctly American, and I know just a smattering of Spanish and French—enough to order a taco or ask for the bathroom. 〜B.J. Burgess

Good morning, my fellow book enthusiasts! 

I’ll be frank: life has thrown a few curveballs my way lately. My mother is ill, and with each passing day, my responsibilities seem to multiply like rabbits in spring. She has a “procedure” coming up soon—fingers crossed it’s just that and not an operation, but we’ll find out more at the end of October when we meet the specialist. Just this week, we had another little escapade to the ER for an overnight stay. More meds have been prescribed to help manage her blood pressure and keep those pesky “events” at bay. If you could spare a prayer or two, I’d really appreciate it.

I had intended to keep all this under wraps until my Sunday Post, but I figured the wonderful friends in the Friday 56 community deserved a heads-up in case I go radio silent for a week or two. I’m holding onto hope that that won’t happen, but just in case, I might schedule some posts in advance. Expect a mix of horror and thrillers from my upcoming "31 Reads of Terror," or perhaps a sprinkle of Westerns.