1) The Family, by Naomi Krupitsky
The general gist I knew about this book before reading it was “The Godfather, but women.” My Italian grandfather grew up in Brooklyn with guys who either ended up in the Mafia IRL or pretended to be in the Mafia in movies, and strangers regularly tell my dad he resembles Al Pacino. So, this book felt like it would be somewhat familiar territory.
In The Family, Antonia and Sofia are the daughters of two best friends recruited by the mob in the mid-twentieth century in Brooklyn’s Red Hook neighborhood. The girls are inseparable until Antonia’s father disappears, causing new feelings about this society that has sucked in their families. Antonia becomes disillusioned with this lifestyle, while Sofia is determined to prove her worth to the men in charge.
The book has a slow start, but once the girls grow and begin following their own, separate paths, the story just envelops you and refuses to let go until it ends. Family dramas taking place over decades are my catnip in fiction, and this was no exception.
2) Duke, Actually, by Jenny Holiday
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