Synopsis:

Practical Magic meets Gone Girl in Ava Morgyn’s next dark, spellbinding novel about a woman who is more than a witch – she’s a hunter.Piers Corbin has always had an affinity for poisonous things – plants and men. From the pokeweed berries she consumed at age five that led to the accidental death of a stranger, to the husband whose dark proclivities have become… concerning, poison has been at the heart of her story. But when she fakes her own death in an attempt to escape her volatile marriage and goes to stay with her estranged great aunt in the mountains, she realizes her predilection is more than a hunger – it’s a birthright. Piers comes from a long line of poison eaters – Bane Witches – women who ingest deadly plants and use their magic to rid the world of evil men. Piers sets out to earn her place in her family’s gritty but distinguished legacy, all while working at her Aunt Myrtle’s cafe and perpetuating a flirtation with the local, well-meaning sheriff to allay his suspicions on the body count she’s been leaving in her wake. But soon she catches the attention of someone else, a serial killer operating in the area. And that only means one thing – it’s time to feed. In Ava Morgyn’s dark, thrilling novel, The Bane Witch, a very little poison can do a world of good.

Why this caught my eye:

Normally I hate writeups that hype a book as “X meets Y!!”. It is almost never accurate and I find it annoying. If I wanted to read thing X, then I would. But, I am here for this one. Practical Magic…yes! Gone Girl…yes! I am bought and sold on this one.

Synopsis:

American Sheep introduces the “remarkable story” of how sheep helped shape American history from the colonial era through the early twentieth century. By introducing the readers to a cast of characters—some forgotten and some famous—whose lives intersected with sheep, the book illuminates the roles the animals played in the “growth and development of the United States.” John Brown’s relationship with sheep, for example, reveals how “sheep culture influenced racial relations.” And John Muir’s fears about sheep grazing in Yosemite were central to the development of the environmental movement his name is most often attached to. American Sheep, in other words, is a book that shears away our misunderstandings of the past and weaves sheep into the fabric of American economic and social history.

Why it caught my eye:

I don’t think I’ve talked about this much on the site, but another one of my hobbies is fiber art. I love wool. I love sheep. I spin my own yarn. I dye my own wool. I knit and crochet with my own spun yarn. I am friends with shepherds, and I own some of their fleeces and know their name, how old they were, who their parents are, and what kind of year they had based on the wool they produced (you can tell if they were sick, or if it was particularly hot, or particularly wet, etc). This book detailing how important sheep have been to the United States’ cultural history, yes please!

Synopsis:

Devin Green wakes in the middle of the night to find two men in her bedroom. No stranger to a fight, she calls to her foster parents for help, but it soon becomes clear this is a planned abduction—one everyone but Devin signed up for. She’s shoved in a van and driven deep into the Idaho woods, where she’s dropped off with a cohort of equally confused teens. Finally, two camp counselors inform them that they’ve all been enrolled in an experimental therapy program. If the campers can learn to change their self-destructive ways—and survive a fifty-days hike through the wilderness—they’ll come out the other side as better versions of themselves. Or so the counselors say.

Devin is immediately determined to escape. She’s also determined to ignore Sheridan, the cruel-mouthed, lavender-haired bully who mocks every group exercise. But there’s something strange about these woods—inhuman faces appearing between the trees, visions of people who shouldn’t be there flashing in the leaves—and when the campers wake up to find both counselors missing, therapy becomes the least of their problems. Stranded and left to fend for themselves, the teens quickly realize they’ll have to trust each other if they want to survive. But what lies in the woods may not be as dangerous as what the campers are hiding from each other—and if the monsters have their way, no one will leave the woods alive.

Why this caught my eye:

Troubled teen wilderness “therapy” is having a moment in the spotlight, rightly so in my opinion. The idea of taking a circumstance that is already morally and ethically questionable and adding a horror element with monsters is a great idea. Fun fact, I got sent to a church version of one of those type things when I was a teenager. It was not as bad as many others, but sending a bunch of teenagers to go hiking around the woods for miles a day with untrained adults is not therapeutic, and I can’t believe that people would actually do that to their child. But this book still peaks my interest.