Concrete Angel by Patti Abbot. Manipulative mother starts using her toddler son as a criminal accessory. Her grown daughter decides to step in. Library Journal gave it starred review. "What about Kirkus's review?" you ask. "Let's not talk about Kirkus," I say, read the book for yourself.
The Driver starring Ryan O'Neal and Bruce Dern. Getaway driver is pursued by police detective. I used to study Roger Ebert's annual film guides and read all his old reviews. Ebert praised The Driver so I watched it and I enjoyed it. Someone online - maybe author Anthony Neil Smith - linked to an article about the screenplay and that got me thinking that people would enjoy watching this one.
Musicians Play Music That is Recorded, Mixed Together, and Embedded on Super Thin Layers of Metal That Are Then Sandwiched Between Layers of Plastic
Postcards from Paradise by Ringo. Singer sings songs of being Ringo. The title reminds me of a Mark Knopfler song.
Only Me by Rhonda Vincent. Bluegrass musician sings songs of bluegrass. We have another album of hers that has circ'ed well.
Now That's What I call Music! 53 by various. Now that's what I call singers singing songs.
Now That's What I call Music! 54 by various. Now that's what I call more singers singing songs.
A Deadly Web by Kay Hooper. A book about things.
The Daring Exploits of a Runaway Heiress by Victoria Alexander. A book about more things.
Blueprints by Barbara Delinksy. A book about more and more things.
Piranha by Clive Cussler. A book about more and more and more things.
Finders Keepers by Stephen King. A book about more and more and more and more things.
Our Souls at Night by Kent Haruf. A book about more and more and more and more and more things.
Cuba Straits by Randy Wayne White. A book about more and more and more and more and more and more things.
What I Love About You by Rachel Gibson. A book about more and more and more and more and more and more and more things.