The Count of Monte Cristo is the Booksworn Bookclub book for March. Who has already read it? Who will be joining us?

First Swords and Bright Stars can now join the chat over on Discord!

February was a mix of genre fiction, literary fiction, memoir, and steamy romance with some banned books thrown in.

The Devils (Amazon/Bookshop) by Joe Abercrombie. February’s pick for my boys book club. It reads like a well-executed Dungeons & Dragons campaign, which is a good thing. A Suicide Squad-like group of ne’er-do-wells are press-ganged into service by a fictionalized, women-led Catholic Church in a fantasy medieval Europe where Carthage’s witchdoctors built Venice, the Pope is a ten-year-old girl (and the most gifted magic user in her generation), and human-eating elves have taken over the Holy Land. I laughed more during this book than any other read in recent memory.

Kitchen Confidential (Amazon/Bookshop) by Anthony Bourdain. One of my favorite memoirs and also the rare book that perhaps works even better as an audiobook, delivered of course by the inimitable Bourdain. The book captures Bourdain’s life as a chef before he became a global phenomenon, and if you’re unfamiliar with that period of his life, I highly recommend giving it a read (or listen!).

The Edge of Sadness (Amazon) by Edwin O’Connor. I read this book with TikTok’s excellent Panic_Kyle as part of his ongoing series in which he is reading all the Pulitzer Prize-winning novels. This winner from 1962 follows an Irish-American Catholic priest who finds himself unexpectedly entangled with a sprawling family from his past. I loved this book, which has been largely forgotten, and I highly encourage you to give the description a read and see if you might like it too.

Ejaculate Responsibly (Amazon/Bookshop) by Gabrielle Blair. This book should be taught in schools. Truly, you can read it in under an hour and—in particular—I think it will change the way men look at certain responsibilities.

More Heated Rivalry, specifically Game Changer (Amazon/Bookshop) and The Long Game (Amazon/Bookshop) by Rachel Reid. What can I say? They’re fun brain candy to listen to while I’m doing dishes. I do a lot of dishes. Game Changer is actually the first book in the series, although it’s adapted into Season 1 of Heated Rivalry as a sub-plot, and The Long Game is the sixth book, but the most direct continuation of Ilya & Shane’s story. Having listened to it, I’m ready for Heated Rivalry season two!

The Snowy Day (Amazon/Bookshop) by Ezra Jack Keats. Apparently everyone on Earth except me knew about this beloved 1962 children’s classic, following a young boy named Peter during an unexpected snow day in the city. I found out about it during a visit to the New York Public Library’s Polonsky Treasures exhibition, where the most checked out copy is on display, because The Snowy Day is the most checked out book in the history of the NYPL.

Gender Queer (Amazon/Bookshop) by Maia Kobabe. I’ve started a regular series reading and discussing banned books over on social media and I kicked it off with this graphic novel, which has become one of the most banned books in America. Kobabe is nonbinary and uses e/eir pronouns. Gender Queer is eir memoir of coming to terms with eir identity and is about as harmless as can be. I also happen to think it’s a great introduction to aspects of the gender spectrum many people might not have a lot of familiarity with.

Flamer (Amazon/Bookshop) by Mike Curato. The second banned book we looked at, Flamer is a semi-autobiographical story influenced by Curato’s own experiences as a closeted teen with a Catholic upbringing and his experiences with the Boy Scouts in the summer of 1995. Another quick, great read which doesn’t deserve any of the pushback it’s gotten.

Friends! Enemies! Everyone in between!

I hope you're all doing as best as you can be and taking care of yourselves. It's time to vote for the April book club!

A traditional American woman, a beautiful wife and mother who sells her pioneer lifestyle of raw milk and farm-fresh eggs to her millions of social media followers, suddenly awakens cold, filthy, and terrified in the brutal reality of 1855—where she must unravel whether this living nightmare is an elaborate hoax, a twisted reality show, or something far more sinister in this sensational debut novel.

My name was Natalie Heller Mills, and I was perfect at being alive.

Natalie lives a traditional lifestyle. Her charming farmhouse is rustic, her husband a handsome cowboy, her six children each more delightful than the last. So what if there are nannies and producers behind the scenes, her kitchen hiding industrial-grade fridges and ovens, her husband the heir to a political dynasty? What Natalie’s followers—all 8 million of them—don’t know won’t hurt them. And The Angry Women? The privileged, Ivy League, coastal elite haters who call her an antifeminist iconoclast? They’re sick with jealousy. Because Natalie isn’t simply living the good life, she’s living the ideal—and just so happens to be building an empire from it.

Until one morning she wakes up in a life that isn’t hers. Her home, her husband, her children—they’re all familiar, but something’s off. Her kitchen is warmed by a sputtering fire rather than electricity, her children are dirty and strange, and her soft-handed husband is suddenly a competent farmer. Just yesterday Natalie was curating photos of homemade jam for her Instagram, and now she’s expected to haul firewood and handwash clothes until her fingers bleed. Has she become the unwitting star of a ruthless reality show? Could it really be time travel? Is she being tested by God? By Satan? When Natalie suffers a brutal injury in the woods, she realizes two things: This is not her beautiful life, and she must escape by any means possible.

A gripping, electrifying novel that is as darkly funny as it is frightening, Yesteryear is a gimlet-eyed look at tradition, fame, faith, and the grand performance of womanhood.

In a powerfully imagined Russia at the height of the pogroms, a grief-stricken family turn to ancient magic to bring their daughter back from the grave. 

Yetta is a bright, quick teenage girl with a wild, searching spirit. Stifled by her mother’s anxiety, her father’s rules, and the path that’s been laid out for her, she craves freedom, the edges of which she doesn’t know. But her family has reason to be cautious and restrictive. Fear has wrapped itself around their shtetl. Jews are mysteriously disappearing, and there are whispers of an impending attack. When violence comes to their door, Yetta is killed. 

Her father, in his grief, fumbles through his nascent knowledge of ancient texts and old magic to bring her back. By some miracle, Yetta is returned—but although she looks the same, she is not the girl she once was. Yetta senses there is a secret her family is keeping from her. The answer resides, in part, in the creature lurking in the woods beyond the shtetl―something that may be of her father’s making, and a being that has plans of its own.

A taboo-bursting, personal and cultural tour through different sexual fetishes that asks: Do we have the courage to look at our desires directly, and express them unapologetically?

The smell of leather. The flash of a harness. The snap of a latex glove. Welcome to the radical, vibrant world of sexual fetishists.

In twenty-first-century commodity culture, we are all intimately involved with objects: we covet a Birkin bag; we keep sneakers box-fresh. We are all, in a sense, all fetishists. But occasionally this desire spills into something more subversive. Second Skin offers a tour through the materials, objects, and power dynamics commonly fetishised, unpacking their histories, their expressive potential, and the communities they give rise to. Drawing from her encounters with fellow fetishists and kinksters, it is also the story of Anastasiia Fedorova’s own journey of what it means to come to terms with one’s sexuality.

Moving between memoir, cultural criticism, reportage, erotic writing, and social history, Second Skin is a researched and topical book that encourages us to rethink how we see not only our own desires, but the world that creates them.

A portrait of three women connected through one man in the aftermath of his murder—a stunning literary achievement and the explosive and highly anticipated debut novel from beloved award-winning memoirist T Kira Madden. Presented as a multicast recording, this production brings each voice vividly to life, deepening the novel’s exploration of varied perspectives and interconnected lives.

Birdie Chang didn’t know anything about Whidbey Island when she chose it, only that it was about as far away as she could get from her own life. She’s a woman on the run, desperate for an escape from the headlines back home and the look of concern in her girlfriend’s eyes—and from Calvin Boyer, the man who abused her as a child and who’s now resurfaced. On her way, she has an unnerving encounter with a stranger on the ferry who offers her a proposition, a sinister solution and plan for revenge.

But Birdie isn’t the only girl Calvin harmed back then. There’s also Linzie King, a former reality TV star who recently wrote all about it in her bestselling memoir. Though the two women have never met, their stories intertwine. Once Birdie arrives on Whidbey, she finally cracks the book’s spine, only to find too much she recognizes in its pages. Soon after, on the other side of the country, Calvin’s loving mother, Mary-Beth, receives a shocking phone call from the police: her only son has been murdered.

Calvin’s death sets into motion a series of events that sends each woman on a desperate search for answers. A complex whodunit told from alternating points of view, Whidbey is searingly perceptive and astonishingly original. Exploring the long reach of violence and our flawed systems of incarceration and rehabilitation, this is a tense and provocative debut that’s sure to incite crucial questions about the pursuit of justice and who has real power over a story: the one who lives it, or the one who tells it?

Four very compelling choices! Happy voting and remember we are reading Now I Surrender by Alvaro Enrigue in March, today is your last day to sign up.

Love what we do? Become a paid subscriber for less than a cup of coffee a month. Your ongoing support helps us plan ahead, fund causes we care about, and create meaningful programming for our community.

I still have 60 or so books left for sale! I’ve added a 10 percent discount. If I don’t sell it by 3/13, they’ll all go to free little libraries!

Check out the books

I’m adding a What Feeds Below bookmark to all orders and will add a What Feeds Below coloring page to all orders over $40 (before discount!)

Wind whips the flaps of the tent as I wait for Holt to return inside. It’s pitch black out with the chirp of crickets and hoots of owls keeping me company.

I reposition in the sleeping bag, wishing that the lumpy ground was my soft mattress. I've never been a big fan of the outdoors, but my husband is. So, like any great marriage, we compromise. I let Holt drag me out to various forests for camping and hiking every few months, and he lets me stay at home and work on my  art. 

I’m a painter, painting anything from beautiful landscapes to the macabre. My biggest art piece I ever sold was a painting of a skeleton on the mossy forest floor, flowers and vines intertwined between ribcages. I had Holt to thank for that one after finding an animal skeleton with foliage growing from it on one of our camping trips. 

This trip he chose the Virginia wilderness–a forest outside of a small town named Point Pleasant. Apparently, in the sixties, several people claimed to have seen a red-eyed moth like figure that stood as tall as a human. The figure, now known as Mothman, is a cryptid in league with Bigfoot and The Loch Ness Monster. Holt thought it’d be a great inspiration for a future painting. What he didn’t realize was that a mothman festival took place annually every third weekend in September. So, between the statue of Mothman in the city, and the endless posters, plushes, and costumes at the festival, I’d say I’ve got enough inspiration to fill a small book full of paintings. 

They even held bus tours of the tnt bunkers that Mothman was supposedly spotted in. 

All I can say is this town sure is dedicated to their fuzzy monster.

A distant howl snaps me back to the present. My hair stands on edge alon my arms and the back of my neck. The night has grown cold without Holt beside me to keep me warm. 

“Holt? You almost done?” I ask as I throw the sleeping bag off my legs.

I stick my head out of the tent and peer around the woods. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dim moonlight. Our campfire has dwindled to merely embers now, offering nothing more than a small, warm glow. 

“Holt? Honey, where are you? Did you get lost going to the bathroom?” 

I don’t want to venture out of the tent if I can avoid it. The forest at night gives me the creeps. I’ve seen the Blair Witch Project and know bad things happen in the dark.

I’m met with silence. Only nature responds.

A twig snaps somewhere in the distance behind me. My heart nearly leaps from my chest at the suddenness of the sound. I see nothing but trees in the faint moonlight. An infinite sea of bark and leaves.

“Holt,” I call out again, my voice hitching. I hope I’m not about to be devoured by a hungry coyote. “Honey is that you?”

“Tara! Come here! I found something.” It’s Holt’s voice. 

My intrusive thoughts slither in like a snake. What if it’s a skinwalker? I’ve seen too many videos on Tiktok of the creatures mimicking people’s voices.

“Tara?” He calls out again.

I sigh. I need to stay off Tiktok. Monsters aren’t real. My husband’s curiosity, however, is a beast of its own. 

“Where are you?” I respond, slipping on my hiking boots and tying the laces.

“Follow my voice. I’m scared that if I move I may not be able to find it again.” 

I tie the final knot and stand, grabbing a flashlight from my bag. Clicking it on offers a world of light surrounded by ever present shadows. 

I shake my head and shout, “Marco!”

“Pollo,” he replies. I head toward his voice.

I curse his name as I enter the treeline, stepping over fallen logs and running face first into a spider web. There’s something about the sticky strands that turns me feral. I swat and shake my head, praying there’s not a spider crawling around my hair.

By the time I reach Holt, I’m ready to go home. Though I love painting the wilderness, I am not a fan of experiencing it.

“Tara, look at this,” he says, ushering me toward him.

I point the beam of my flashlight to where he’s standing. I can see his breath billowing past his lips which are hidden by his red beard. The rest of his red hair is tucked away underneath his green beanie.

My gaze moves past Holt and I see what has him excited. A stone entrance lies buried in a mossy hill top. Vines with leaves in various fall shades cling to the blue door. Rust coats the bar holding the door shut. 

“I wonder if this is one of those tnt bunkers the people in town were talking about?”

I step closer. “Sure looks like it could’ve been built in World War II.”

Holt moves forward and begins struggling to lift the rusted bar.

“What are you doing?” I hiss.

“I want to see inside,” He says through strained teeth. His Irish complexion is turning as red as his hair.

“Since when are you an urban explorer?”

“I just want to see what all the fuss is about.” The bar gives and he loses his footing as the door screeches open. The sound reminds me of nails on a chalkboard. “Plus, when are we ever going to get the chance to see something like this again?”

“Have you never watched a horror movie? This is how we die.”

He wipes his hands on his pants as he stands back up. “Tara, we’re not going to die. That door hasn’t been opened in a long time. No serial killers lurking in the shadows. Unless…you don’t think Mothman’s gonna get you?”

“Monsters aren’t real,” I say, crossing my arms. “But I don’t know how stable anything is inside. What if something caves in?”

“Admit it. You’re scared.”

“Nope. I’m smart. At this rate I’ll be surviving our horror movie. Don’t worry, I’ll send your mother a signed popcorn bucket.”

“Think how inspirational it’ll be inside. You could do one of your spooky paintings with the inspiration you gather. Maybe even throw Mothman in there. Hell, maybe you can sell your painting for big money in town. Clearly these people like their cryptids.”

I sigh. He’s not going to give up. Something about the woods brings out his inner child. And like all children, he’s stubborn until he gets his way. 

He’s lucky I love him.

“Fine…five minutes.”

He smiles and leans in to give me a kiss on the lips. 

I let him lead as we venture past the metal door. It’s so dark I can nearly feel it. Our flashlights do very little to light the void. I realize that it’s because the room is insanely big. The walls curve upward, leading into a high ceiling. Bright graffiti coats the concrete. 

I nearly stumble backward as my flashlight locks on to a dark figure with crimson eyes. 

“Holt! We need to leave, now! I insist, grabbing his jacket and tugging. 

“Tara,” he says as he points his own flashlight at the wall. “It’s graffiti. It’s not the Mothman…” I can hear him holding back a snicker. Meanwhile my heart thunders loudly in my ears. 

“Can we go now?” I ask, itching to leave. It’s too quiet here. 

Holt takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the graffiti. “Oh look.” 

He ignores my question. 

“Theres a door over there.” He points to the left, and sure enough, an open doorway sits waiting. Inviting us to explore more of its depths. 

“I think we should go, Holt. I don’t like it in here.”

“Hey, we still have three minutes.” He takes my hand in his. “Let’s take a look together. Then we can leave.”

Reluctantly, I walk with him to the doorway. It leads to the hallway. Doors stretch every few feet. Some of the wood has rotted, laying in the floors.

Holt lets go of my hand. “Wow, this is cool. I wonder if this is where they stored the dynamite. Wanna take some home as a souvenir if we find some?”

“I’m not going any further. You can go look quick but I’m staying right where I can see the exit.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

He pops in and out of the rooms, his phone’s camera flashing in the dark. At least one of us is enjoying himself. 

A cold breeze tickles the back of my neck and I spin around, half expecting something to be standing behind me. It’s just the wind from the open doorway, I tell myself. 

“Okay Holt, time’s up. We should really go.” I turn around and find no sign of him. I wait a moment, expecting a camera flash to come from one of the rooms. 

“Holt? This isn’t funny. We should get back.”

Silence. 

“Dammit Holt. Let’s go.” 

A thunk comes from the end of the hallway, along with a camera flash.

My blood boils. He’s sleeping outside of the tent tonight.

I walk down to the end of the hallway with anger guiding me. I’d teach him to ignore me.

I round the corner and step through the doorway into a small room. 

“You’re in the doghou…” My words trail off as I take in the sight before me. The room is empty. Or at least I think until I see something dark drip to the floor. 

The scent of iron assails my nostrils. I follow my flashlight’s beam to the ceiling and gasp. Holt is suspended in midair by a black, winged creature. Its fur shines in the light. Striking red eyes stare straight at me. The antennae at the top of its head are black and wispy. 

More blood falls to the floor, sounding like water dripping from a faucet. A crunch follows as the creature takes a bite out of Holt’s neck. 

“Oh my God,” I say, stumbling backward. I land flat on my ass but quickly pop back up and run for the door. 

A loud screech echoes behind me. I don’t look back. I keep running. Once I reach the metal door I turn around and push it shut, locking the metal bar back in place.

I take a few deep breaths, my heart racing. 

BANG. Something hard hits the metal, making a dent in the surface.

I don’t hesitate. I run. I run until my lungs are screaming for air. I trip over roots and stones but don’t stop. 

Blindly I run through the trees until I see a roadway come into view. Hope blooms inside my chest. Roads mean cars. Cars mean safety.

Bright lights appear in the distance. I make my way to the edge of the road, waving my hands and shouting for help. 

A loud screech comes from above me. I look up in time to see the black, winged creature descend upon me. It lifts me up in the air with its claws just as the car reaches where I was. Pain sparks in my shoulders. I can feel the wet warmth of blood soaking through my hoodie.

Tears flood my eyes as the creature flies me back to its lair to reunite me with my husband once more.

Hello All,

I’ve been working on improving the community experience for everyone (see March’s Book club calendar here) and also to relieve some stress from myself!

I’ve decided to provide weekly calendars (with the exception of travel weeks) so everyone has an idea of what’s coming (including me, lol)

I’ve included the activity (whether a post or group activity) and access level. My goal is to provide at least two $5 and up exclusive posts and two $12 exclusive posts per month! If you are curious about what paid tiers receive, please go check out membership benefits. I just made a few changes!

Monday: I’ll be sharing some What Feeds Below NEWS! And asking everyone to share my post or create posts of their own!

Thursday: We meet on zoom to journal. Whatever that looks like for you: reading journal, writing journal, junk journal, stickers, art, whatever. Camera on or off. Just a way to carve out space for hobbies!

Friday and Sunday: Discord reading sprints! The community grows closer by getting to know one another and participating in our fave pastime. We will read for 50 min and chat for 10 for a couple hours! Great way to help stick to the bookclub schedule!

📖New Release: The Book Club Kit for This Book Made Me Think of You

If you’ve been craving a book club pick that is tender, life-affirming, and just a little bit heartbreaking in the best way, this is your moment. 🕊️📚✨

We’re diving deep into This Book Made Me Think of You by Libby Page, and this kit is built for the found family lovers, the stationery addicts, and everyone who knows that a good book can be a life raft.

The Vibe: From Ugly Cry to Hopeful Sigh

When Tilly Nightingale receives twelve books from her late fiancé, Joe, it’s more than a gift it’s a roadmap through grief. Whether your group is Team Alfie the bookshop owner of our dreams or you're just here for the global reading adventures, this story reminds us that healing isn't linear, but it is possible.

What’s Inside the Kit?

Tap the link below for instant access to everything you need to host a meeting that feels like a warm hug:

• 📖The Discussion Guide: Questions covering grief, the power of vlogging your journey, and the would you read it? dilemma.

• 🍽️A Year of Flavors Menu: From London bookshop sourdough to Ugly Cry chocolate fondue and Earl Grey martinis.

• ✍️Immersive Activities: Including the Think of You book exchange and a playlist workshop for Month 13.

• 🎁 Stationery & Self-Care Door Prizes: Gift ideas like scented candles, annotated classics, and of course high-quality tissues.

Are You Ready to Turn the Page?

Whether your group is ready to unpack Tilly’s risky move to share her heart online, or you just want to debate which book you would hope to find in a gift from a loved one, this kit is designed to make your meeting feel immersive and deeply personal.

👉Access the Full Book Club Kit Tap the Link https://tinyurl.com/murxdn2y

Let’s Chat: If someone left you twelve books to help you through your hardest year, what is ONE title you’d hope made the list? Drop your must-have book in the comments! 📖💌

💥 Happy reading, book lovers. Keep the tissues close. 🧺✨

We thought we were picking up a cozy bookish romance. We did NOT expect to ugly cry in a group chat. 📚💔✨

Our book club just finished This Book Made Me Think of You by Libby Page, and let’s just say we have feelings. All six of us. Loudly.

Here’s the vibe from the group:

👩🏻‍🦰The Romantic: “Twelve books. Twelve months. A love letter from beyond the grave?? I was emotionally unwell by chapter two.”

👩🏽The Crier: “Joe planning a year of healing for Tilly before he died?? I sobbed. On my commute. In public.”

👩🏼‍🦱The Skeptic (converted): “I thought this would be too sad, but it’s actually about learning to live again. The reading adventures, the travel, the vlog journey it felt hopeful.”

👩🏾The Bookshop Lover: “Alfie. That’s it. That’s my review. Team Alfie forever.”

👱🏼‍♀️The Analyzer: “I loved how each book unlocked a new layer of grief. It showed how stories connect us even when someone is gone.”

👩🏻The Chaos Reader: “I came for romance. I stayed for the found family, the bookshop vibes, and the reminder that healing isn’t linear.”

Watching Tilly receive twelve carefully chosen books from her late fiancé one for each month of her first year without him wrecked us but in a gentle, cathartic way. It’s about grief, yes. But it’s also about community, new beginnings, and how stories can carry us when we can’t carry ourselves.

We laughed. We cried. We immediately wanted to give this to someone we love.

✨️Thank you Berkley and Libby Page for sharing This Book Made Me Think of You with us!

❓️If someone left you twelve books to help you through a hard year, what’s ONE title you’d hope made the list? 📖💌

Join us on our Discord tonight to chat about True Grit!

Hey y'all,

It's Middle Grade March so this month we'll be reading The Year I Flew Away by Haitian-American author Marie Arnold!

Our discussion will take place on Sunday, March 29th at 1 PM EST. See you then!

XoXo - Rae

It's time! I am so excited to dive back into the world of Goosebumps.

The first ever Goosebumps book was published in 1992 Welcome To Dead House. Little did he know this would spark a major love for horror in kids everywhere! 62 original books later, Stine still holds the hearts of children and adults alike.

Today marks the kick off of You Can't Scare Me.

Synopsis: Eddie and his friends plan to dress up as the slimy Mud Monsters--legendary spooks who supposedly live in Muddy Creek--but their plans change when they meet the real Mud Monsters.

This one sounds like so much fun! I already have a few book recommendations circulating my mind--Will drop them next Sunday.

The episode can be watched here-- and we will plan to watch it Saturday March 13th! Time TBD.

Was this one you read as a kid? I personally don't remember reading this one myself.

We will finish reading You Can't Scare Me by Sunday, March 14th.

Discussions can be held in the discord group chat! If you've joined discord and have not been added to the Goosebumps chat let me know and I will add you!
I can't wait to read this with you all!

Happy Saturday, mis internet amigxs,

A nationwide book ban has been proposed by the House of Representatives targeting LGBTQ+ books. Action items can be found on Instagram and Tik Tok. Further news and action items coming this week.

The world is feeling HEAVY right now, so I wanted to bask in a moment of Latine bookish joy with you and tell you about upcoming March 3rd Latine releases, plus I wanted to begin with a GIVEAWAY.

Our March book club selection, Now I Surrender by Alvaro Enrigue, releases on Tuesday and I've got ONE MORE HARDCOVER COPY UP FOR GRABS EXCLUSIVELY FOR ANYONE WHO LIKES AND COMMENTS ON THIS POST (US address only). I'll email the winner on Wednesday and you'll have 24 hours to get me your mailing address via reply to my email! You will have a chance at a second copy in a larger poll of entrants on Tuesday's release day blog post.

Also, reminder that our non-fiction sidequest read March through April is Everyone Who Is Gone Is Here by Jonathan Blitzer (audiobook). Several people who have the paperback have mentioned that the font is VERY small, so if you have vision issues or don't like to read small font, please keep that in mind.

This is a busy week of releases so let's get on with the show...

TRANSLATED LITERARY FICTION & MARCH BOOK CLUB PICK

Now I Surrender by Alvaro Enrigue and translated by Natasha Wimmer (Audiobook) Alt-Western historical fiction taking place in multiple timelines from multiple POV's about how the West was "won" Revolutionary, in only a way Alvaro can write. Can not way to discuss with you on Discord. We start chatting on March4th!

Diorama by Carol Bensimon and translated by Zoe Perry and Julia Sanches (Audiobook) Brazillian translated literary fiction about Cecília reexamines the case of a close family friend killed by a colleague and rival: her father, after many years trying to outrun her past.

YOUNG ADULT FICTION

Estela, Undrowning by Rene Pena-Govea (audiobook) Estela Morales navigates her struggles with anxiety, eviction, and both external and internalized racism as she attends one of San Francisco’s most exclusive high schools.

If We Never End by Laura Taylor Namey (audiobook) I'll never NOT celebrate an exlusive limited hardcover for a Latine book!!!! Cuban-American Namey brings us a spec romance about a girl who winds an enchanted watch and a boy appears who has no idea who he is or how he died

BILINGUAL PICTURE BOOK

Gooool! A Bilingual Book Of Soccer by Mike Alfaro and illustrated by Gerardo Guillen: Just in time for the World Cup!

NONFICTION

Red Stones: A graphic account of the Salvadoran Civil War by Ernesto Saade: Saade documents how in 1981, the Salvadoran Civil War reached Miriam's village of Santa Marta and what occurred.

El Paso: Five Families and One Hundred Years of Blood, Migration, Race, and Memory by Jazmine Ulloa (Audiobook) From a New York Times reporter, this sweeping human history of El Paso reveals the violence, power, and privilege at play in America’s most famous border town.

AUDIOBOOK RELEASE FOR GRAPHIC NOVEL

How to Say Goodbye in Cuban by Daniel Miyares (audiobook) Audiobook release of the graphic novel detailing the dramatic coming-of-age graphic novel memoir of 12-year-old Carlos (who would grow up to become the author’s father), his life during the Cuban Revolution, and his family’s harrowing escape to America.

xoxo,

Carmen