spongebobbiii's reviews
655 reviews

Six Days in Bombay by Alka Joshi beautifully explores how a single encounter with the right person at the right time can completely change the course of your life.

Alka Joshi, author of The Henna Artist, takes readers to 1930s Bombay, India, with a vivid and immersive narrative. The story centers on Sona, a 23-year-old biracial nurse (British and Indian), whose life intertwines with Mira Novak, a renowned biracial painter famous for depicting Indian women. Their meeting sparks a transformative journey for Sona, filled with emotional growth and self-discovery.

What I Loved:

What I Struggled With:

Themes:

Six Days in Bombay is another gem from Alka Joshi, blending history, art, and deeply personal journeys in a way that’s unforgettable.

I was provided a copy via the publisher through NetGalley, but all thoughts are my own.

What I liked: 
Sariyah, the main character, is the heart of this book. Her ability to intuitively know what others need is  woven into the story in a way that feels believable and grounded, rather than over-the-top or distracting. The representation of disabilities and mental health is another strong point. Desamours includes conditions like Sickle Cell Anemia, depression, and ADHD. The book’s exploration of racial disparities—especially in how missing persons cases are handled depending on race—was impactful and discussed an important message to readers.

What is disliked:
The twist, while functional, didn’t leave much of an impression. It wasn’t bad, but it lacked the impact.

Thank you Macmillan Audio for ALC. These thoughts are my own.

This was a difficult one to get into. In general the story was interesting and the final hour of the audiobook was really great, yet, I never developed an attachment to any of the characters. The only one I sorta liked was Libby, yet it was more her dynamic with Nico I found entertaining.

The ending of book was really enticing so I might read book 2 but I’m undecided.

This book was a wild ride for me. You know how some books show up at exactly the right time, just when you’re meant to read them? Madwoman was that book. I’m in a season where old wounds—particularly the ones inflicted by my mom—are resurfacing, and this story arrived in my hands like a punch to the gut. To make it even spookier, the book is set in Portland, the city I just moved to.

Madwoman does a hauntingly beautiful job of portraying the effects of childhood trauma and growing up around domestic violence. The protagonist’s descent into holistic and wellness practices as a trauma response—an effort to control her surroundings—felt incredibly on point and believable. For me, this book captures the reality of domestic violence far more effectively than It Ends With Us by Colleen Hoover.

What really stood out in the writing was how the main character would seamlessly converse with her mother, who wasn’t physically there. It felt raw and real, as if she was carrying on the same internal dialogue we often have in our own heads—a battle between the past and present.

The only reason this book lost 0.25 stars for me is the ending. With decades of trauma, grief, anger, and shame laid out so powerfully, the resolution felt a little too neat. I expected something more complex emotionally, but instead, it felt smoothed over. How do you move so quickly from all of that pain to just hopeful?

That said, Madwoman is a deeply impactful read. It’s important to check the trigger warnings beforehand, but if you’re ready to face some heavy themes, this book will leave a mark on you.

If you weren’t already freaked out by dolls or puppets, How to Sell a Haunted House by Grady Hendrix will make sure you are by the end.

Grady Hendrix is hands down one of my favorite horror authors, and I credit him for pulling me into the genre. I’ve historically avoided horror—it always felt too scary or unsettling—but Hendrix has a way of writing horror that’s accessible without losing the creep factor. Whether it’s his slow-burn approach or his intriguing, layered stories, his style makes the genre feel less intimidating and more captivating.

How to Sell a Haunted House is a prime example of why I love his work. After being let down by his novel The Final Girl Support Group, this one totally redeemed him in my eyes. While it’s not my all-time favorite (that honor belongs to The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires), this book is easily my second favorite of his novels.

The story centers on Louise and Mark, estranged siblings who are forced to reconnect after their parents tragically die in a car accident. Tasked with clearing out and selling their parents’ house, they soon realize that the process—already emotionally fraught—comes with an additional complication: haunted dolls and puppets. Yeah, big fucking problem.

The first third of the book is a bit of a slow burn, as Hendrix takes his time developing Louise and Mark’s strained relationship. Personally, I didn’t like either character all that much, but that almost felt intentional. They’re written so well that their flaws and dysfunction don’t detract from the story—they add to it.

As is typical with Hendrix’s writing, the horror builds gradually, with moments that genuinely made me gasp or cringe. (Pro tip: don’t read this alone at night unless you’re ready to side-eye every doll in your house.) At one point, I had to take a few weeks off from reading because the creep factor was just that intense.

If you’re a fan of Hendrix or the horror genre in general, I can’t recommend this book enough. It’s a solid entry in his repertoire and one that will haunt you long after you turn the final page.