Books like Ensnared — picked by fans

This is book six of the Mismatched Mates series.

It’s part of a shifter series with bound mates, forced proximity, enemies to lovers. Two shifters jailed and experimented on join forces to escape their prison. One of them must be willing to sacrifice his life to do it. I love this one!

The MC was once viewed as the bad guy in his pack. Meant to be food, he’s tossed into the cell with an alpha shifter whose been changed into something else. They are forced to mate to escape and what follows is a series of alpha male influence and blooming love. Though neither of them believes they deserve their HEA.  

Catherine Bruns’ first book in her new series features a refreshingly new kind of sleuth. Cindy York is an ordinary woman in her 40s with a supportive husband, twin sons, and a typical teenage daughter. There are several wonderful laugh-aloud moments. The violence is off-page, the plot is well done with the reason for murder revealed at the right time. I loved the animals in the story.

Modern medicine has dramatically extended life expectancies. But as our life spans extend, our fear of death grows. As our hope of living a long life and seeing our children survive grew, we became more rather than less anxious about losing out. We might have expected the opposite. Aries vividly illustrates how people viewed death as a part of life before the nineteenth century and how they reconciled themselves to it. He picks out 1886 as the point where Tolstoy in The Death of Ivan Illych recognized that medical advances were creating anxiety rather than hope. This book may make you less fearful of death. It will ask you whether you can now achieve serenity half as well as those before us did and whether medicine is bad for our sanity? 

Like a lot of people, I am fascinated by “inner vision”: what do people think, feel, and experience in extreme states that they struggle to describe to others?

This book is based on such an approach to the question: a palliative care doctor and team gather the stories of people experiencing visions while undergoing the massive transformation of dying. By re-thinking these deathbed visions not as feverish delusions but as insights into human experience, I was deeply moved on multiple levels. You can sense the dying person’s powerful drive to connect with the past and sometimes with the present, which makes the “hallucinations” quite real emotionally. You can also sense how important sharing the stories is to the loved ones in their grieving process. 

I loved the immediate connection between Layken and Will in this book. They had such strong chemistry from the start—the kind where I knew something would go wrong very soon.

For me, it was a perfect combination of sweet with some light angst amidst the forbidden lovers. I also found the slam poetry angle incredibly unique and unlike anything I’ve read before. 

I love this book because it’s a pure and simple description of the physical reasons our lives end. I don’t believe anyone has ever brought death down to earth like Dr. Nuland.

I liked his book so much that I arranged to meet with him. I found him to be the same clear and compassionate person (and doctor) who appears on every page of his book.

What I admire the most is how he manages to describe some of the deadliest human diseases from the inside out, writing so clearly that readers can relax into understanding and let go of their worries without thinking.

I was blown away by how Mason integrated the coming-of-age story of Sam, who lost her dad in Vietnam, and the healing of her uncle Emmett, who served and has PTSD. In Country is vivid and moving. It takes on the effects of the Vietnam War on both veterans and families at home with power and elegant prose. 

I loved the spot-on depiction of Sam’s coming of age. I loved Mason’s deep understanding of Southern culture and norms. I loved the thoughtful evolution of Uncle Emmet’s healing. I adored the artful use of backstory and the larger look at the broader implications of the war that echo long after it was over.

"Everybody’s family is a little nutso. But there’s nuts…and then there’s the Kwirks." A scavenger hunt to find the ashes of their late grandfather! That premise may seem macabre, but John David Anderson has a gift for plotting the oddball, yet heartfelt, storyline with memorable main characters. With Rion Kwirk and his nutty family, he has done it again. From the opening chapter when a clown appears at the Kwirk’s door, singing a message about the death of their grandfather, I knew I was in for a hilarious, fun-filled journey—one that reminded me that being out of the ordinary only makes you extraordinary.

In A Ring of Endless Light, sixteen-year-old Vicky Austin has to come to terms with death from all directions, starting with the funeral service of Commander Rodney presided over by her grandfather, who is dying of cancer. Watching her grandfather deteriorate over the summer on Seven Bay Island is hard as it is, but it’s complicated even more when Vicky has to juggle the romantic interest of three very different guys: Leo, an old friend and Commander Rodney’s son; Zachary, whose attempted suicide caused Commander Rodney’s death; and Adam, her older brother’s friend, who offers her an amazing chance to work with dolphins, something that gives her a break from the constant hard in her life. 

I love this emotionally heavy novel, largely due to Madeleine L’Engle’s beautiful, descriptive writing. A Ring of Endless Light finds beauty in struggle and sorrow, and even in death. Ms. L’Engle’s novels always… show more.

I’ve read this book three times, drawn by my fascination with death and how people die. The book is well-researched, detailing the final days of great minds—writers like Susan Sontag, Sigmund Freud, John Updike, Dylan Thomas, Maurice Sendak, and James Salter.

Like a skilled biographer, Roiphe doesn’t judge her subjects but presents their endings as they were. Yet, a discerning reader can’t help but draw conclusions. Susan Sontag, the towering intellect, fought death until the end. Dylan Thomas, the great poet, was self-destructive and pathetic at the close of his life. Sigmund Freud chose to end his life with the help of a physician.

Roiphe mentions in her preface that she would have liked to write about other famous deaths—William Blake’s peaceful passing, Honoré de Balzac’s death by overwork, Primo Levi’s fall, and more. I wish she had explored these as well. If she did, I’d devour that book… show more.