Welcome back to After the Walk, where Link and I return from our Sunday morning stroll, and I attempt to organize my thoughts about everything I've been reading.

This week ended up being one of those wonderfully unexpected reading weeks where every genre somehow arrived at the same destination.

I spent time with Egyptian gods, mushroom-ravaged forests, sentient moss, hockey players pretending to date, women haunted by the past, and a serial killer trying very hard not to become one again.

On paper, these stories couldn't be more different.

But underneath every one of them was the same question: What does it actually mean to be human?

👑 Isis of Egypt

I've read plenty of mythology retellings over the past few years, but almost all of them have one thing in common: They're Greek.

That's what made Isis of Egypt feel so refreshing.

Malayna Evans introduces readers to an entirely different pantheon while making the gods feel surprisingly relatable. The divine politics, fractured relationships, jealousy, grief, and ambition all mirror very human emotions.

What I appreciated most (especially after speaking with Malayna during our Instagram Live) is how intentionally Isis is portrayed. She's powerful because she continually chooses empathy. In many mythology retellings, strength is measured by conquest. Here, strength is measured by compassion. That's a much more interesting story to tell.

The historical research is evident throughout the novel, but it never feels like you're reading a history lesson. Evans trusts readers to absorb the mythology naturally through the narrative, making the world feel immersive instead of overwhelming.

Read if you enjoy:

• Mythology beyond Greece

• Historical fiction grounded in real research

• Strong female protagonists

• Political and family drama

🍄 Eden

Every once in a while I read a horror novel that reminds me horror exists to make us care.

Eden absolutely terrified me.

The fungal-infected wildlife is vividly grotesque, and several scenes genuinely made my skin crawl.

But that's not why I'll remember this book; I'll remember the people.

Kylo Kirby understands one of horror's biggest secrets: monsters only matter if readers desperately want the characters to survive them.

I became deeply attached to this cast, which meant every dangerous encounter carried emotional weight.

The prose also deserves special recognition. The novel constantly balances beauty with decay. One paragraph paints breathtaking images of sunlight filtering through abandoned landscapes; the next forces readers to confront horrifying mutations created by the fungal outbreak.

That tension between beauty and horror perfectly mirrors the novel itself.

I also loved the inclusion of scientific papers, transcripts, and other mixed-media elements. Rather than interrupting the story, they quietly expand the world and allow readers to piece together humanity's downfall alongside the characters.

For a debut, this is remarkably confident.

🌿 Moss'd in Space

I need everyone to understand something: I became emotionally attached to moss.

Not metaphorical moss; actual sentient moss.

If that's not enough to convince you to read this book, I'm honestly not sure what else I can say.

Moss'd in Space reminded me why I love cozy science fiction so much.

This novel succeeds because every member of its found family feels distinct, lovable, and wonderfully imperfect.

Moss itself may be the emotional center of the story. After spending more than a century abandoned aboard a forgotten ship, its deepest desire is belonging. Isn't that what found family stories have always been about?

The humor is delightful, the romance is charming, and despite its cozy atmosphere, the novel never forgets to create genuine tension when it matters.

I cannot wait to reunite with this crew.

🏒 Big Stick Energy

Fake dating has become one of romance's most recognizable tropes.

The problem is that many novels stop at the trope itself, but Big Stick Energy doesn't.

Both Eric and Darcy carry different kinds of loss: One mourns someone who is gone forever; the other mourns relationships that still exist but have fundamentally changed.

Those quieter emotional threads elevate the romance because the characters don't simply fall in love.

They become witnesses to each other's pain.

The humor also lands beautifully. Darcy's inability to stand up to her family contrasted with her absolute willingness to mouth off to her boss created some of my favorite moments in the book. Sometimes romance doesn't need to reinvent the genre; sometimes it just needs to execute familiar tropes exceptionally well.

This does exactly that.

🌲 Heather

The marketing calls this a thriller, but I'd argue literary suspense is a much more accurate description.

The disappearance of two sisters may launch the story, but the mystery is simply the thread connecting a much larger exploration of motherhood, sisterhood, trauma, identity, memory, and forgiveness.

This is a novel that unfolds patiently.

It trusts readers. It doesn't rush emotional moments for the sake of faster pacing or bigger twists.

The audiobook deserves special recognition as well.

Three narrators guide readers through multiple timelines with remarkable clarity, and Bailey Carr's portrayal of Annabelle adds heartbreaking vulnerability to an already emotionally rich story.

Some books ask, "Who committed the crime?" Heather asks something far more difficult: "Can we ever truly know another person's life?"

That's the mystery that lingered with me.

🖤 Songbird in the Gallows

This was probably my most mixed read of the week, mainly because I wanted even more from what was already there.

The setting completely captivated me.

Grimlock feels like somewhere between a gothic fairy tale and a dark romance novel. Every page suggested secrets waiting beneath the surface, and I found myself wishing the story leaned even further into that eerie atmosphere.

Blue was easily my favorite part of the novel. Morally gray without losing his humanity, protective without becoming overbearing, he anchored the story whenever he appeared.

Saylor didn't resonate with me quite as strongly, though the supporting cast added warmth and humor that kept the story engaging throughout.

Final Thoughts

When I finished this week's stack, I realized every one of these books was wrestling with the same question: Who chooses compassion when life gives them every reason not to?

• A goddess.

• A survivor.

• A lonely piece of moss.

• A hockey player.

• A police chief.

• Even a former killer.

This week's books reminded me that no matter the genre, the books I remember most are never really about the plot. They're about people. Or, occasionally...Moss.