Sad, Sad, Sad

"No human contact" was created because of two men whose separate crimes on the same day captured the attention of the Bureau of Prisons. This book tells their stories, before they landed in prison, and up to their final day. There are so many ways to look at these men--compassionately, as victims themselves, as they most certainly were, or as perpetrators. And what about rehabilitation? Is that always possible? And if it's proven to have taken place, can, or even should a sentence be reversed? Is there a case to be made that keeping someone away from other potential negative influences is the reason someone may have the time and inclination for introspection and change? There's no easy answer here, and the stories are just heartbreaking coming and going.

A Ship-Sized Shark

Sometimes "they" talk about cloning prehistoric animals, a la Jurassic Park, and I think we all heave a wistful sigh about the possibility of seeing a wooly mammoth roaming around in the local safari-style zoo. Who wouldn't love seeing a fluffy version of Babar? A whole new line of stuffies would be launched, and teams would start sporting a new wooly mascot. So much fun! But is all extinction really so bad? My opinion is not so, in the case of the megalodon, or "Big Meg", a super-sized shark that would make a snack of a great white. Authors (a dad and daughter team of Flannerys) will ruin your potential sleepy time with tales of how this behemoth (probably) attacked and killed its prey, and how the poor saps watching from the shore probably vowed to stay away from the water forever. Maybe that's why they found that land bridge. Horror aside, it was fascinating. But I'd suggest reading another happy book along with it, if you value your dreams, that is.

Or One Bad Apple?

A prominent family is part of community fiber, seemingly with everything. They owned a successful tennis academy for decades, and are well-known on the circuit. Four grown children are forging their own lives, and the parents appear to be the perfect couple. One day, the mom disappears, and naturally, suspicion falls on those closest to her, exposing chinks in their glimmering facade. As the police and the "kids" try to figure things out, memories are cast back to a prior acquaintance to the family, Savannah, who was in need of shelter when the empty nesters were eager to continue parenting. Could she know something they don't? Liane never disappoints, and although I'd say this book has a slightly different tone than others of hers I've read, it's still delicious in its twists and surprises along the way.