Jessica

Valet by J.P. Lacrampe is one of those books I almost didn't pick up, and I'm so glad I did. It's being marketed as Jeeves and Wooster but with a robot, and while that's not wrong exactly, it is considerably underselling what this book actually is.

Our narrator is Cy, a robot who has been reassigned as valet to Grayson, the 35 year old layabout son of the founder of AI+. Grayson has never had any interest in the family business, until suddenly everything is threatened. And Cy must help him navigate that while figuring out his own place in this world.

What makes this book special is Cy's interiority. We see how much he misses being of real use, the way he used to be to Grayson's father. We watch him change over the course of the novel, begin to want things beyond simply serving. That's not something I was expecting from a book with this premise, and it's what elevates it.

The found family here is genuinely wonderful and a little unexpected. It includes a scientist, a technophobic potter who signals that not everyone is happy with this world, another robot Cy initially underestimates, and by the end even some of the villains. It's messy and earned and emotionally satisfying in a way that a lot of cozy sci-fi promises and doesn't deliver. This one delivers.

 Nobody's Baby is the second entry in Olivia Waite's HMS Fairweather cozy sci-fi mystery series, and it's a genuinely charming continuation. The setup is irresistible: a baby appears on a ship where fertility has been put on pause for the duration of a centuries long journey, and our formidable ship detective Dorothy Gentleman is on the case. The worldbuilding is quietly delightful, rooted in a 1920s aesthetic that feels deliberately preserved rather than accidental, and if you've read a lot of golden age mystery the characters will feel immediately familiar and nostalgic in the best way.  My one consistent complaint with this series is the length. These novellas are so well drawn that I'm always left wanting more time with the characters and more space for the mystery to breathe. The resolution in particular moves faster than I'd like, which feels like a structural challenge of the format rather than a failure of the writing. But Waite knows exactly what she's doing here, and for readers who love cozy mysteries with a speculative twist, this is an easy recommendation.  Four stars. I would love a full novel next time!

This is a genuinely ambitious debut, and one I'm glad that I read in spite of some mixed emotions. This is the story of the city ship Safina, partway through it's 400 year journey to humanity's second chance. This is a multi-pov story, and I enjoyed our two main POVs (essentially a translator and a detective) but I felt that too many one off POVs muddied the waters of the narrative for me. 

I loved the Arab cultural lens and the focus on languages. Having said that though, there is a constructed language that some of the characters use that I could not make nice with unfortunately. I tried, but ended up largely skipping those sections, which I hate to do. I don't usually have those issues, but this one missed the mark for me. 

The ideas are big, and the pacing is slightly slower. This is a setup novel for a series, and I think that shows in the care the author takes to flesh out the world. It's genuinely impressive. So this one was mixed for me but I may continue the series. I am curious about where the journey is going for these characters.

Marcus Kliewer's second novel will feel familiar to readers of We Used to Live Here, and I mean that as a compliment. His specific horror register is the slow erosion of what can be trusted. The Caretaker follows that instinct with more discipline than his debut, even if it's arguably less ambitious.

Macy is a protagonist worth spending time with. She's aware enough of horror conventions to actively try not to make the bad choices, which makes her alert and resourceful rather than a passive victim of circumstance. Her anxiety and intrusive thoughts are rendered with real authenticity, and Kliewer uses them to do double duty. A character whose internal reality is already untrustworthy is particularly vulnerable to a horror that operates by undermining perception.
Was I scared? Honestly no. But unsettled in a way that stayed with me, which I'd argue is more interesting. 

For readers who bounced off We Used to Live Here's opacity, this is the more accessible entry point. For fans of atmospheric, cerebral horror with a compulsively readable pace, this delivers.
4.25 stars.

It's not a bad book! It was just cozier than I was expecting, and I found the characters didn't quite feel real to me. Definitely has an audience, but unfortunately it wasn't me.