The Bookies Bookstore Curates Dog Essays and Murder Mystery in Denver

"The Best Dog in the World" captures the full range of the canine-human connection, from the joy of welcoming a new puppy to the heartache of saying goodbye to a beloved friend."

That line from the publisher’s description of Alice Hoffman’s new essay collection is the kind of sentence that stops you mid-sip of coffee. It’s not just a blurb; it’s a promise. And at The Bookies Bookstore in Denver, that promise is being delivered with a warmth that feels less like retail and more like a gathering. Judy, the bookseller, has been listening to the audio version, narrated by two voices that bring these stories to life, and she’s issued a direct warning to her neighbors: keep a box of tissues close at hand. It’s a small thing, a box of tissues, but it tells you everything you need to know about the emotional weight of these fourteen essays. You don’t just read this book; you survive it.

The Bookies is known for curating experiences, not just inventory, and this week’s selection leans heavily into that curation. They’re suggesting meditations on dogs, yes, but also murder and politics. It’s a triad that feels oddly cohesive for a Tuesday afternoon. You can feel the shift in tone as you move from the soft, fur-covered memories of Hoffman’s contributors — Isabel Allende, Roxane Gay, Emily Henry — to the sharp, bloody edges of Brynne Weaver’s Tourist Season.

Weaver’s novel, now out in paperback, introduces us to Cape Carnage, a seaside town that sounds picturesque until you look closer. The houses are colorful, the shops are quirky, but the body count is unusually high. Harper Starling, a skilled gardener with killer instincts, protects her sanctuary and her aging mentor at any cost. The tourists don’t just check out; they compost beneath her award-winning flowerbeds. It’s a visceral image, one that grounds the mystery in the earth itself.

Then there’s Nolan Rhodes, the devilishly handsome tourist with a blade and a grudge. On every anniversary of a hit-and-run that fractured his life, he slays another target. He’s saved the best for last: Harper. But she isn’t the monster he expected. And she won’t go down without a fight. When an amateur true crime investigator arrives, hunting a long-lost serial killer, Harper and Nolan strike an uneasy truce. If Nolan helps protect the town, she’ll keep quiet about his hunting habits. For now.

Krystal, the events coordinator at The Bookies, notes that this is the first book in The Seasons of Carnage trilogy. It’s a description that feels urgent, almost breathless. The alliance between Harper and Nolan spirals into obsession, threatening to shatter every secret in Carnage. It’s a fragile love, built on a foundation of murder and mutual deception.

There’s a rhythm to these recommendations. You start with the unconditional love of a dog, you move to the calculated revenge of a tourist, and you end with the messy, complicated reality of human connection. It’s a journey that mirrors the way we live here on the Western Slope, or even in the Denver metro area. We love our pets, we love our history, and we love to dissect the politics that shape our communities. The Bookies isn’t just selling books; they’re offering a lens through which to view our own lives.

The rain taps against the window of the bookstore, a soft, rhythmic sound that contrasts with the violence in Tourist Season. Inside, the air smells of old paper and new ink. Judy is still smiling, her tissues ready. Krystal is organizing the next event. And somewhere on the shelf, a book about a dog waits to be opened. It’s a quiet moment, but it’s charged with possibility.