The Bookies Bookstore in Denver curates stories from Anna Quindlen, Joe Abercrombie, and Máire Roche, focusing on how fiction mirrors human relationships and community dynamics.

The Bookies Bookstore in Denver is pushing three very different kinds of stories this week, and the staff isn’t just recommending them — they’re living them.
Anna Quindlen’s new novel, More than Enough, centers on Polly Goodman, a high school English teacher whose life is anchored by her book club. It’s a setup that sounds like a cozy Tuesday night for locals who gather at the Delta Public Library or the Basalt branch. But the hook is sharper than a typical domestic drama. When a joke ancestry test matches Polly with a stranger, the stable circle of four friends begins to fracture.
“I thought I’d read a few chapters of this book and probably put it down,” Judy, a bookseller at The Bookies, told me. “I was surprised to find myself happily engrossed in Polly’s life with her wonderful husband, caring friends, and job that she loves. Then out of the blue a family mystery arises!”
It’s a familiar tension for anyone who’s watched a close-knit group dynamic shift over time. The book club is supposed to be the bedrock. Instead, it becomes the catalyst for change. Quindlen, a former New York Times journalist, brings that same observational precision to Polly’s struggles with IVF and her fraught relationship with her mother. It’s not just about a mystery; it’s about how the people we trust most can hold the keys to our deepest uncertainties.
Then there’s Joe Abercromie’s The Devils. If Quindlen’s book is about the comfort of community, Abercromie’s is about the chaos of forced proximity. The story follows Brother Diaz, summoned to the Holy City for a grand holy assignment. He expects a commendation. He gets a team of unrepentant murderers, magic practitioners, and outright monsters.
“The Devils is one of the most engaging and fun ensemble adventures I have come across since palling around with the A-Team in the ’80s,” said Joe, the store’s receiver. He didn’t call them friends, exactly. “They’re not all that friendly (there are a few past-tense team members). But even though they are compelled by an unbreakable magic bond, there is little doubt they can get the job done.”
It’s a bromantic quest, but not the gentle kind. It’s bloody, it’s messy, and it’s set against a backdrop of elves lurking at the borders and greedy princes caring only for their own comfort. The contrast between the two Joe’s recommendations is stark. One explores the quiet unraveling of a middle-class life; the other deals with violence and magic held together by sheer force of will.
Máire Roche’s Bromantasy sits somewhere in between, though it leans heavily into the absurd. Juniper O’Reilly is good at two things: drinking mead and finding the perfect skincare routine. Everything else — manual labor, farm work, basic survival, falls to his best friend, Mo Elmthorn. Mo is capable, patient, and currently stuck because Juniper accidentally volunteered them both for a quest to kill a fearsome monster.
The dynamic is clear. One person plans the disaster; the other cleans it up. It’s a relatable division of labor for any couple or business partnership that’s survived long enough to develop inside jokes about who handles the bills and who handles the emotional labor.
The Bookies staff isn’t just selling books. They’re curating experiences that mirror the lives of their readers. Whether it’s the mystery of identity in Quindlen’s novel, the brutal loyalty in Abercromie’s fantasy, or the comedic imbalance in Roche’s quest, the themes are grounded in human relationships.
As Joe noted, referring to the steady flow of customers looking for these specific types of narratives, folks aren’t just buying paper and ink. They’re buying a way to process their own friendships, their own family histories, and their own occasional willingness to accidentally sign up for a monster-slaying quest.
As the staff at The Bookies prepares for the next wave of recommendations, the focus remains on connection. Not just the connection between author and reader, but the connection between the characters on the page and the readers in their chairs.
“We’re seeing folks want stories that feel real, even when there are devils involved,” Judy said. “It’s about finding that thread of humanity in the chaos.”





