Lisbeth Ivies

Addiction has many forms. Drugs or alcohol are the faces largely attributed to it in the past. If you've ever had to take a phone away from a teenager, you've seen one of the newest ones. Digital addiction is prevalent in a chronically online world. Gaming, social media, and parasocial relationships can all be looped under that umbrella. But, it would be impossible to say the internet is all bad. Though the scope is much narrower than just “technology,” Psychology of Technology does a great job balancing pros and cons of such a connected world. It also tries to provide solutions on how to tip the current situation more positive.

I always shock my students when I try to describe a life before internet prevalence and the pocket-sized portals we are all glued to. In less than three decades, instant online communication grew and changed our lives with such impact as the birth of motorized vehicles or maybe even the use of electricity itself. In some ways, the internet has gone even further because it's morphed beyond just a tool. It's helpful, but it's also become a source of division, disinformation, and replacement.

Accelerated by the pandemic, so much of our lives are conducted and preserved online instead of off. Like the author mentions more than once throughout the work, it's time to take a long look at what we can do to rein in some of that seep. To examine whether we've let what was meant to be a tool control us instead. If needed, that might mean pulling ourselves away from being chronically online. Instead of endlessly checking our feeds, we also need to focus on our offline selves and relationships.

The overall message of Psychology of Technology is strong. The comprehensive look at how much the internet and social media have permeated our lives and our thoughts is thorough. However, the message is often bogged down by how redundant much of the information is. I think the author is so ready to expand outward to the big picture that what's covered in later sections feels like a copy of when it's first discussed earlier on. I also would have liked a larger focus on how to have a healthier digital outlook, both on an individual and societal level.

Most people would benefit from reading Psychology of Technology, especially younger readers who don't know a “before.” With the rapid embrace of AI, I also can't think of many more relevant topics.

Having recently spent two weeks in Alaska and already wanting to find my way back there, the setting of Something in the Blood was a major draw. It's beautiful, remote, and dangerous. All great things when trying to stage one of the more enigmatic serial killers I've read about recently.

For a small town, Bloodrun has a pretty large cast of characters. With such a high number of named people, many surprised me by how well fleshed out they felt. I would have liked to see more from one arc in particular, but the characters were a highlight of the novel for me.

The writing style is more lyrical than I usually see in this genre, with descriptions often waxing poetic. There are some truly gorgeous pieces of writing, but the indulgence is both a blessing and curse. While the depictions are gorily haunting, the focus can sometimes feel misplaced. Some scenes feel bogged down or blurry because the content is sacrificed for the aesthetic. At points, plausibility also takes a hit for it too.

Though the setting and premise made me very excited to read this book, it was an uphill battle for me because of the narrative structure. Action bounces back and forth from the present to the past. Not until most of the way through did I realize it was also often more than a decade into the past. I prefer a more linear structure, usually, or at least references at the start of scenes or chapters for better clarity. Layer that in with ongoing tales of Native Alaskan lore, rereading for understanding was often necessary. I was also a little confused because the chapter numbers started over midway through at a section break.

The setting alone can make Something in the Blood stand out for horror or thriller readers looking for something unique. I am not sure if this truly fits the subgenres it's listed as, but it strikes the right tones for the larger genre.

The premise of No Lie Lasts Forever drew me in almost immediately. A serial killer slinks off into the night for 15 years without getting caught. Convinced he has somehow cured his urges that led to the killings in the first place, he's reasonably incensed when a new murder is added to his tally. Determined to set the story straight, he leashes an infamous reporter into proving another killer is at play. The novel does ultimately deliver on this premise, but it stumbles a bit on the way there.

Only after sitting down to write this review did I really catch the musical notes filling each of the letters on the cover. It's a very nice touch considering how important classical music is to one of the main characters and to the plot. I wonder if the sheet music shown even matches one of the often mentioned artists this character enjoys so much.

The first chapter of No Lie Lasts Forever is fast-paced, and sets the reporter looped into helping the serial killer on a distinct arc. That swiftness makes the next bit drag more by comparison. I am used to novels written in the present tense moving a little more. Part of this is because of scope. Many of the characters are nuanced and multi-layered, but the cast feels too large to really enjoy them. Juggling all the names and institutions they belong to gets even harder considering how many also have nicknames.

The writing style felt—jumbled—for lack of a better word. Description mostly matches the sparseness of a noir mystery/thriller then delves into randomly elongated character attributes. This strange mix is further enhanced by how crassness that feels out of place to the larger work. I might have made a face at “upright wink” alone. The premise of the novel needed cemented character motivations to truly work. I think some of the meandering in plot happens because the purpose of some characters does the same thing.

If you can get through a few of the more mired down sections, No Lie Lasts Forever becomes worth the read. I recommend the novel to fans of twisty thrillers and morally gray to dark point of view characters.

Regardless of whatever the rest of the review or the rating say, Her Family Secrets is the best book I've read that I almost DNFed (did not finish) twice in the first chapter. Overall, the novel is a solid thriller from a debut author, and I'm happy I did end up reading through to the end.

Two points of view run mostly parallel to each other throughout the book. Colin is a well-respected doctor putting in countless hours to help bring new lives into the world. Owen, I hope it isn't too much of a spoiler to say, does the opposite. Both characters have voices that are very distinct from each other, which is always a big sticking point for me.

Both dialogue and prose for the most part are strong as well. The description is visceral and cinematic enough to the point I could picture virtually every scene easily. Because I was so drawn into the story by the writing style, the few implausibilities or issues jumped out more. The medical procedures at the clinic are described at length and seem well-researched, but are inconsistent with other medical terms used, especially when it comes to fertility issues experienced by the main couple. So much time and effort at the start is put into making Colin's insane schedule seem believable, both work and his...tastes, but those constraints don't seem to mean much at for most of the novel. Stronger focus and pacing to support the brilliance of the writing style would do wonders in the next story.

Despite the title being “Her” secrets, the dueling points of view are both men. The work as a whole is also surprisingly male-centric even though both Colin and his missing wife work in labor and delivery. Women are seen in a very poor light throughout, and the marriage isn't really a loving one for reasons. The age gap, one that gets described a little late, and I was honestly surprised by, only seems to perpetuate some of the problems for me. The first of the near DNFs is because of a line that happens in the middle of a dinner party: “The image of their dead baby floating in his wife's uterus flashed abruptly in his head.” It's abrupt for the reader too. Even more so when framed with the context that these miscarriages and fertility issues are almost all about Colin and not his wife. He does end up showing a little clarity at points, but they are few, far between, and never lasting.

The title is definitely right about one thing. Her Family Secrets holds more than just one. Almost no one in the main cast of this novel is completely innocent by design, but readers will still likely find at least one character to root for.

Every collection of short stories is different, but one thing always stays similar. Some of the tales making up the anthology will resonate with you, and some will not. Happily, the majority of Tales From the Liminal did the first. The short stories are anchored in human emotion but often feature elements from science or speculative fiction. From Bigfoot enjoying himself on the beach to a sprout inching up toward the sky, each of the fifteen tales making up the collection has something to offer.

Unlike many short story collections I have read over the years, the tales woven here have a similar feel or theme to them without explicitly stating so. Quite a few are on the darker side, but each was thought-provoking in its own way. Overall, the writing style and voice largely felt cohesive too. You only get to spend a few pages with each character and the world they live in. Pulling from the title, these characters are in transition and dynamic by definition. Somehow, many of them still stick with me even after so short a time.

While I enjoyed the majority of the collection, I craved more from a few of the stories in Tales From the Liminal, and not just because I would have liked to read more. There was more than one of the short stories where I could have read a full-length novel based on what was started in the collection. I would have liked a little more buildup with the world the tale occupied, or had more information to attach to specific names. A few of the stories felt less polished than others, more in the context of editing than with content. Some have quite a few noticeable errors where others were flawless.

I don't want to list my favorites because I can't really describe why without possibly spoiling the stories, but I will say that Tales From the Liminal is one of the better short story collections I've read. Each of the fifteen tales puts us in a pair of uniquely different “shoes,” even if some might not have feet. I highly recommend the collection to readers who enjoy speculative or science fiction.

Set in a land named Tianya, A Dance to Wake a Dragon showcases traditional eastern elements inspired by both locations and lore. Dragons, magic, and nature vie against modernization and urbanization, clashing in a way that reminded me of one of my favorite entities across all media: Princess Mononoke.

The initial premise sucked me in. Shengli, a young village girl, finds that the legacy she shared with a mother she lost far too early in life might just save the world. Dancing and music, tangled with connection outside of more than just humans, can save a broken land. Forced into a lot of responsibility for young teens, the main character, her twin friends, and her loyal dog with so much personality were also highlights of the novel for me. The execution was not.

A Dance to Wake a Dragon is listed as a young adult or teen novel, but I don't feel like it matches that target audience. Shengli being described as thirteen does meet expectations for the genre, but the way she acts and talks seem quite a bit younger. The twins also feel the same way. If it weren't for the themes depicted or the writing style, I'd actually recommend the title to a younger audience.

Some phrases and depictions of the places Shengli and company journey through are downright beautiful. However, they are often mired within sentences that make you feel like you've run a marathon by the end of them. Out of curiosity, I counted up a few toward the beginning. Multiple sentences run past 100 words and throw clause after clause at you, often getting lost in the middle a little. The general “readability” level matches postgraduate expectations. Because the content is geared toward younger readers, and the writing style creates a difficulty that's highly demanding, I am not really sure what the target audience is.

Pacing also set me back a little as a reader. I'd argue that this is actually two books smashed into one, leaving it hard to let some of the more emotional scenes truly have the impact they deserve. Without the proper time spent on them, some events feel more like they were included for shock value rather than for the purpose of the story. For me personally, I would have DNFed after one of them if I hadn't already been so invested by the time it happens.

I appreciated the subversiveness of several tropes in A Dance to Wake a Dragon. The journey of our heroes isn't to slay a dragon to save the world, but to summon one. Music and dance are the methods of winning, not slashing and hacking. Readers looking for that flavor of different should enjoy.

Usually, the story goes rags to riches, not the other way around. Six Steps to Salvation not only inverts that cliche, but the novel goes one step further to make the protagonist focus on regaining riches that aren't just money. While redemption for a dethroned business mogul is the focus, satirical social commentary provides the rest. Homelessness, the “business” of charity, social media, and hustle culture all play a part.

Description and voice shine in this novel. Word choice and a few well-placed similes that could make me snort litter the prose. I was a little worried I would have problems relating to the protagonist at first. Both because of who he is, and because of what he's done prior to the beginning of the novel. The author does a fantastic job of bringing the reader in and hooking them, from the first chapter. Much like the main character used to hook his business targets.

The vast majority of Six Steps to Salvation is beautifully written and poignant, even with its crazy cast. Because of the near-perfection of some parts, the few flaws stand out considerably, and most often occur in the protagonist's back story. There can be some redundancies, not just in concept but in the same wording, and sometimes within a few sentences of each other. I also had trouble understanding one portion because the name for one character seemed to switch back and forth for a few pages.

I expected a little more satire from a novel with that claim in the subtitle on the cover. There are definitely a few scenes that seem more in line with my expectations, but overall, it was more tongue-in-cheek than I was used to. That isn't a bad thing. I genuinely enjoyed Six Steps to Salvation. As long as readers go in understanding that much of the satire is more subtle and clever than overt, they should have a good time.

The prime directive from Star Trek meets The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin. Bound by law, duty, and personal ambition the main character doesn't really much care about the alien race he's been assigned to watch and document die. Until he meets them.

Normally hidden behind an invisible shield, the government sees no real harm in establishing a connection with the alien race A.T. Sayre has cleverly crafted in the novel. They will be extinct soon enough. However, it would be impossible for almost anyone to switch from watching to interacting with a dying people and not be affected. Especially if those people were just as good as the title suggests.

Written from the perspective of one of the newer members assigned to watch and wait through the extinction-level event, I suspect most readers will feel the same building emotions the protagonist does. The transition from dry words on a report to living, breathing aliens with a distinct culture for both Warin and for us readers is expertly done.

This one will stick with you, but it does take a while to get there. After a somewhat rough start and an out-of-place romantic connection, the novel eventually blossoms into something both profound and morbidly beautiful.

Dystopian novels are arguably my favorite subsection of speculative fiction. There's hardly a larger fire that characters can be thrown into than the end of the world or its aftermath. Unlike many in the genre, One Is None focuses almost exclusively on the aftermath. Only a few well-placed flashbacks feature anything that came before. What also makes author Mark Nihlean's novel unique is that he isn't afraid to make his main characters unlikable.

Most of the adult cast are what I'd describe as being on the fringes of society. Radicals, conspiracy theorists, and “believers” make up large portions of the new population. Not something I often see in literature, this makes sense in reality. The swaths of people most likely to hunker underground for 100+ days without warning and have a place to do so aren't considerably mainstream. That devotion to realism stretches from characters to settings and situations as well, all described remarkably well.

As much as I did enjoy the storylines of the younger members of the main family we follow, I felt there was a disconnect between purported ages and how the characters read. I think the age was kept artificially lower for one character in particular to increase the shock value of certain elements. However, the writing was both visceral and compelling enough throughout most of the novel that such a tactic wasn't really needed.

I fully admit that I was the donkey chasing the carrot throughout One Is None. Hooked in by the premise and the spectacle, I was ravenous for answers to questions many dystopian novels resolve from the beginning. Although I personally would have liked to see more of those questions have answers, I'd still very willingly follow that carrot into a sequel if the author chose to write one.

The author provides trigger warnings for a reason. This isn't a sanitized theme park type of dystopian. But if you think you'll enjoy a darker look at what life would look like after the restrictions of civilization fall and the type of people most likely to survive, I suggest reading One Is None.

One of my main goals each time I read nonfiction is to learn something new. With The Self-Publisher's Amazon Playbook, I felt like I met that goal with near every page. I did initially believe the scope was larger, but I should have paid more attention to the subtitle: “The author's manual to crafting amazon book listings that sell.” The material definitely delivers on that narrower focus, with the expectation readers are already familiar with the technical use of the Amazon publishing platform.

The author, Jane Tabachnick, breaks down each element of a book listing, providing key insight into what they are, why they matter, and how to create that section with the highest impact. Before reading, I would have thought I was rather familiar with most of what goes into a great book listing. Even with that prior knowledge, I still learned so much with this read. The most valuable for me was informaiton given about optional section, A+ Content, and why it shouldn't be neglected.

When I read informational books, especially books based on how to write or how to sell your own writing, I find myself inevitably falling into a critical trap. Does this book or this author practice what's being preached? If the advice and guidelines being offered aren't exemplified by the work itself, it calls into question how valid the insights are. For the most part, The Self-Publisher's Amazon Playbook does follow its own “plays.” However, the work does stray some, particularly when talking more about book matter versus the book listing itself.

Although the title and description don't make this very clear, this playbook is more geared toward nonfiction than fiction. I do think fiction writers can still glean valuable insight, but the majority of information presented leans into book listings and book matter for nonfiction works. Going into it with the right expectations, The Self-Publisher's Amazon Playbook should be required reading for any author ready to post their best book listing.

Some books can infuriate you, but you still can't look away or put them down. Past Crimes was like that for me. A vengeance story mixed with a time machine thriller, the novel centers on a young boy named Michael with an almost Batman-esque origin story. His parents are killed in front of him, except there is no strong adult figure like Alfred to help pick up the pieces afterward. The path his vengeance takes him on is also more cerebral than physical.

In its best moments, Past Crimes delves into the emotional landscape of a childhood derailed by the loss of one's parents so violently and the continuing disappointment of the killers never seeing justice. Michael remains a fascinating character throughout the novel, from boy to man to senior as he follows a hard path toward redemption not for himself but for his parents. Those glimpses of the protagonist's psyche, and how such a quest warps it over time, made the time travel elements more grounded.

The time machine and how it gets used here are much more unique than I had anticipated from the blurb. I don't think I've ever seen it applied in quite this way across any medium. Early on, Michael realizes he won't be able to actually save his parents, but he can at least do the next best thing. He and the team he builds around him know the rules and know the consequences for breaking those rules.

Despite my sometimes morbid fascination with the protagonist and the appreciation of a novel take on time travel, a few things kept me from rating it higher. Those rules that get explained multiple times and seem so hard set, the reason why the quest can't actually be full-on vengeance for Michael? They do get broken multiple times with seemingly no reaction. Those inconsistencies broke the immersion for me and were not ever addressed. I also can't say much without spoilers, but the introduction and treatment of one of the characters made the rest a bit harder to finish. It just played into some tropes that I personally don't like.

Past Crimes should appeal to a large audience of readers. A thrilling science fiction, I would be interested to see more of how time travel is applied here. I probably wouldn't want to see more of Michael, though.

As someone who reads across many genre lines and just frankly devours many books each year, something truly unique is hard to find sometimes. Regardless of anything else I say further about The Envoys of War, it is one of those hard finds. Spy thriller meets high fantasy with swords and magic and secret missions of utmost importance.

The envoys referred to in the title, Gen and Cordyn, are going to stick with me for a while. An odd pair, but one that enhances the unique voices and personality of each character. Other parts of the cast are strong as well, but it's those two who kept me engaged and enjoying the journey all the way to the end.

Any great fantasy relies on the world as much as its characters, to the point it might almost be defined as a character itself. The world here felt robust, nations and their machinations operating as more than just a backdrop. Having the magic system focus on one specific element was unique as well. I'm hoping the reasons behind that might be expanded on in a book two, along with a few more prominent female mages.

Despite all the things I loved about The Envoys of War, certain elements kept me from truly enjoying the novel at points. Some characters felt inconsistent with themselves and in their motivations. There are some romantic elements, but I think the story would have been stronger without. The budding connection(s) felt forced and actually read as a little predatory in some aspects. A few slips of clairvoyance, characters knowing things or interpreting environments in a way they shouldn't have, also broke immersion.

The Envoys of War is a great read for people who like their fantasy a bit twisty. Spy missions, betrayals, and questionable loyalties abound, I also just recommend the read for anyone who enjoys the idea of a large woman swinging an equally large sword around and having the time of her life doing it.

Without making this about myself, much of what the author pours out about himself and his story resonated deep with me. Mental health might finally be getting a larger focus by both the medical community and the world, but that focus only seems to be highlighting just how far we still have to go. That need to do better is more than apparent in Unstill, where an attempt to quell persisting anxiety only makes things harder.

Lenny Gallo lays himself bare, from childhood to the before, during, and after first seeking treatment for his mental health. What makes his perspective so unique is that he's now writing his journey through two lenses. Both that of a patient and a practitioner. Despite being a victim in a sense of the medical machine that led to developing a disorder from medication that didn't even help to alleviate the original reason to start it, he was eventually able to cross the aisle. To start helping others seeking help with their mental health.

Of the many things I appreciated about Unstill, the optimism and resilience shown in the writing and in the author's personal history kept me invested. Each attempt to be heard by a professional, each medication that seemed right then wasn't could have been the last attempt. I could feel the desperation each time something didn't work, but the hope still shone through too.

The tone Gallo adopts is personable and engaging. The first few pages, full of concern about a rash in a particular area, convinced me this was going to be a fun read despite the sometimes difficult-to-approach content. The author's ability as a storyteller is undeniable. From anecdotes to medical information, I was thoroughly intrigued by this memoir. I highly recommend Unstill to any reader interested in the topics of mental health or difficult personal journeys.

From Left Behind to The Leftovers and beyond, stories that feature a slate of mysterious disappearances and/or deaths have always fascinated me. The promise of the blurb that it isn't the two main culprits, a religious rapture or mass alien abduction, dragged me in. And for the most part, Hearts of Aphra did deliver on that promise pretty well.

Largely set in a small town in Arizona, a mayor trying to oust her to pave the way for nefarious schemes seems the least of the sheriff's worries. Then, a blinding light and blaring siren in the early hours of the morning land her in one of the worst situations imaginable. Almost 20% of the population dies in an instant, both the bodies themselves and the survivors separate and escalating problems. The who, the why, and the how this happens drives both characters and story.

An ensemble cast with multiple points of view that rotate with each chapter, a few of the supporting POV characters were a bit weaker than others. Many of the more main characters do make up for this in the long run, driving the narrative and making us care as the stakes ratchet higher. My favorites from the story are some of the best I've read in recent history, but I did find one character (and not the grifter mayor) hard to sympathize with. It sat strangely with me that he seems to get rewarded for some truly awful behavior and is the vehicle for readers finally learning many of the answers surrounding the central questions driving the plot.

There were a few continuity errors, as well as some slower pacing in the middle, that stemmed from juggling so many POV characters. A few explanations happen in full detail for the reader multiple times as they are relayed around town. Issues with scope and dangling threads also pulled me out of the story at points.

Readers intrigued by stories of mass disappearances or deaths will enjoy Hearts of Aphra. The answers, once reached, are rather unique to anything else I've read in the genre. A strong beginning and strong ending make the middle journey worth it.

While many readers wouldn't view satire as a palate cleanser, I needed the dose of humor one would bring between darker stories. At the base level, Canceled more than brought that needed comedy. I laughed my way through quite a few sections, as characters primped, preened, and debased themselves on and off the camera (or at least trying to) for fame and fortune. Not just the characters that were originally meant to be on film, either.

The story holds nothing sacred when it comes to the hustle culture surrounding the internet and revenue streams that content creators can set up. From creating new celebrity cryptocurrencies to the parasocial relationships that drive the public's fixation on online personalities, everything is on the table. When one family already making bank from that hustle decides to pile a reality show onto the heap, they find everything about themselves is on the table too. The thirst for consumption from their fans leads to a real problem with privacy; the mirror held up to our reality a clever one.

Lane and her daughters might be the initial focus of the reality show, but the circle widens with each NDA signed by crew. Even the younger brother personifying many of the gamer goth stereotypes right down to living in the basement gets dragged into it. Many of those periphery characters getting caught up in the web drove my favorite moments.

As much as I did enjoy reading Canceled, a few things kept me from rating it higher. I felt like there wasn't a strong through-line while I was reading. This was partly because the narrative doesn't really have protagonists in a traditional sense, more like a giant harem each doing their own thing. In a manner not unlike reality TV, the typical pattern of a story isn't followed either, and a few threads never get tied up. The other issue for me was errors. Missing words and typos happened frequently enough to take note, and took me out of the story a bit.

If readers are looking for a laugh, particularly one that doesn't shy away from poking fun at both politics and the internet, Canceled more than fulfills that.

A beautiful cover and evocative title were what initially piqued my interest in reading Only the Pretty Ones. I was further intrigued by the premise that promised this to be a much more modern type of serial killer. I shudder to think how much more prolific some of the murderers operating in the 70s, 80s, and 90s could have been with something like dating apps being available back then. The moral grayness of a character catfishing as their sister then landing themselves into hot water because of that decision also pulled me in. Yet, My expectations for what the novel would be didn't quite match what I thought it was. And as beautiful as that cover remains, it doesn't really match any of the crimes therein.

The technical quality of the writing is better than most novels I'd review this low. Other than a few typos/errors scattered through, the author does well to deliver an emotional heft to some scenes, and descriptions can easily create mental pictures. However, the meat of the story, especially through the lens of crime fiction, just isn't where it needed to be. The characters are quick to throw around monikers like serial killers and copycat killers, but the criminals and crimes depicted in the novel don't match those terms even by looser definitions. We don't even know until the very end how many victims there were of the newer killer. The natural build up of tension or fear in a small community ravaged by these killings isn't there, and not just because of the statement being made about the community or how it reacts to different ethnicities of victims. Even through the lens of the main character who knows much more than the people at large do, reactions aren't consistent with what I would expect. The few times there is an attempt for more emotion or stakes, things feel forced and artificial because of the void present in the rest.

Emotional whiplash describes a lot of what I felt from the main character. Crushes and the newest accusation of who she thinks the culprit is come fast and hard, with little to no consideration for what came previously. Even a personal tragedy early on in the novel seems to have no real import other than to be a talking point with other characters, the loss only really showing in dialogue and not in the rest. Motivations for many of the characters felt missing or just suffered from a lack of build up, and I quite often kept asking myself...but, why?

I struggle with giant leaps of intuition being what drives the plot forward in crime or mystery fiction, particularly when the character repeatedly shows bad judgment in previous guesses. I'm also in the school of thought that twists are exciting but should have that trail of breadcrumbs to make them worthwhile. With this one, it didn't necessarily come out of left field. Yet, I found myself asking the same question again...but, why?

Despite those sentiments, I do still believe some readers will enjoy Only the Pretty Ones as long as they go in with the right expectations. Readers looking for something with crime or mystery as the focus and a well-executed plot to match should keep searching. This one is lighter on the sleuthing and heavier on the teen angst.

Math teachers and mob bosses might seem like strange bedfellows, but somehow it just really works in A Love Most Fatal. The common tropes of mafia fiction—protector/protectee relationship, financial imbalance, family bonds, betrayal, criminal behavior but with morals—all factor in heavily. The flip of the mob boss being female, and particularly one as dynamic as this novel's Vanessa, turns the possibly too comfortable familiarities into something entirely new. Having sisters at the head of the organization, and just as multi-dimensional, helped shape this into one of my favorite romantic reads of the year.

The author strikes a rarely seen balance between the threads that make up A Love Most Fatal. A charming romance doesn't overshadow the fact this is a mafia story. Nothing is done just for shock value, and any twists feel earned without being too overt. The family dynamics and the characters upholding them feel realistic, lived in, and competent within their roles. I don't think there was a single character I disliked that I wasn't supposed to. Even then, the more villanous stay layered.

Errors are very few and far between, and other than a small bit of confusion regarding two goons early on in the novel, A Love Most Fatal is practically flawless. This novel might have been a debut for the author, but it doesn't read like one at all. I might just be a little biased toward the story as a math teacher myself, and I don't often get to see us as romantic leads at all, let alone stories like this. However, I do believe A Love Most Fatal has a much broader appeal than to just math teachers. Any romance readers who appreciate powerful women falling in love with less traditional but still strong men (toxic does not mean strong!) and a little bit of violence between the steamier scenes should enjoy. I'm already planning to read the sequel hopefully coming sooner rather than later.

With spooky season pretty much upon us, that means I had to read at least one horror and/or zombie novel to commemorate. I'm happy I chose Furies Rising to be my commemorative title for the season. A refreshing take on some of the more tired tropes of the genre, this is a rare series starter as well. The closest comparison I can draw would be from movies instead of literature: Red Dawn meets Land of the Dead.

I might not have realized quite as much while reading (because it blended in so well), but the author's choice of setting was both crucial and masterful. From the skills the main characters possess to how they strategize to try and survive, the plot stays more practical than not. And, largely because of the setting choices. Where our main characters are at the onset, and everywhere they aim to go after, drive the story forward.

The mainstay of the genre does remain: a ragtag group of survivors banding together but slowly dwindling as they face an overwhelming hoard of brainless reanimated corpses. What elevates that mainstay are two things. One, that band of survivors acts smart, has the tools and resources to do more than just hole up somewhere and wait out the apocalypse, and for the most part, plans for the good of the whole. Two, these aren't just zombies but Furies. Seemingly driven by both hunger and rage, some can talk and even direct other members of the hoard. The why and how offer a subplot of mystery to support the overarching survival one.

As much as I enjoyed Furies Rising, the read wasn't all smooth sailing, particularly in the first third. A crush of one brother on the elder's girlfriend leads to some unsettling internal machinations. These thankfully get dialed back eventually, but they directly impacted the character's likability for me. Scenes with a larger cast of characters can sometimes be bogged down by the description. There is also an underlying chosen one thread here, which is not a personal favorite.

One of the better novels of the genre I've read in recent years, I do highly recommend Furies Rising to readers who enjoy a good zombie apocalypse. The still normal humans are more decent and more resourceful than most, making them largely quite easy to rally behind.

After reading The Path Beneath Her Feet, I had two initial thoughts. First, there really needs to be more fiction with powerful women protagonists who aren't barely adults. And second, the author has grown substantially in her craft from debut novel to sequel. Considering how much I had already enjoyed the first journey with Dr. Eliza Edwards, a marked improvement is commendable!

The doctor might be facing new challenges such as the Great Depression, the World War II, and grandmotherhood, but her determination to succeed, especially as a woman in the medical field, didn't change. Like The Unlocked Path, I learned from this piece of historical fiction, a testament to how well researched both titles are. The weaving of true people and events in with the fictional was just as compelling as the first time around.

There's a smattering of typos, but the writing and readability overall is largely very solid. The only major thing keeping me from giving The Path Beneath Her Feet a higher rating stemmed from how I felt Dr. Edwards' growth was honored from book to book. Sequels often fall prey to dialing back or resetting parts of character arcs to create conflict again in the new story. That happens a little here while a new complication felt more rushed. Expanding on it would have only benefitted the larger story.

Those who enjoy historical fiction, particularly with a slant toward empowerment of women, should read The Path Beneath Her Feet. Like the first novel in the duology, the characters come alive from the page.

I have not had the privilege of reading other works by this author, including the short story that Sleeping Worlds Have No Memory was based on. After the adventure this novel sent me on, marrying some of the best elements of both science fiction and fantasy, I doubt it will be the last work I choose to read from Yaroslav Barsukov. Beautifully penned prose supports a fascinating and layered plot that kept me hooked to the end.

On the surface, much of the novel's broader tension boils down to a Cold War-esque conflict between two neighboring countries. Each side rushes to build giant towers that serve as both monuments of strength and strategic battlements for a possible invasion. An element not often seen in fantasy literature elevates the plot above what at first seems a simple culture clash that could lead to war: an alien race and the technology they've brought with them. How that technology is treated within the story best exemplifies how artful the author was in his weaving of it. The mechanical “tulips” are pretty but dangerous, simultaneously preserving the dream project of a desperate engineer, perpetuating a fear for the race who brought them, enabling a power hungry prince, and needling the protagonist as a constant reminder of a terrible personal tragedy.

The plot isn't the only thing that packs a punch. Strong motivations and emotional entanglements back most of the main characters and keep the building first sections of the novel from feeling slow. The aching yearning to make up for past mistakes or thirst to prove oneself are universal, acting as grounds for the fantasy and otherworldly elements of the story.

Most of the central cast being so wonderfully layered makes the few that aren't stand out more. Internal conflicts within the point of view characters and the external conflicts at the macro level overshadow the smaller conflicts between characters. The concrete antagonists can often feel like caricatures, more so when sharing scenes with those characters who were better fleshed out.

I recommend Sleeping Worlds Have No Memory to readers who enjoy science fiction or fantasy that makes them think. The novel will make you work, be at times both confusing and unsettling, but it will leave you satisfied in the end.

Reading a novel from someone you've met through social media always hits a bit different, and I very much appreciate being able to get my hands on a copy of For the Love of Lily from the author herself. The main premise is a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine, a love triangle but specifically one between both new to their lives and someone who has been around for a while. Does the center of the triangle look forward to all the possibilities with someone new, or do they respect all the history shared with someone who already fits into their life?

At first, some of the colloquialisms threw me because I didn't realize the setting of the novel. Once I was reading with the right lens though, I found the overall tone charming and quirky, just like the main love interest at the center of the triangle. I liked the character herself, even if sometimes her actions (or lack of action) annoyed me. Like many romances, I also think I liked her best friend just a tad bit more and found her a scene stealer.

On paper, the two suitors for the titular Lily appear almost to possess equal potential as romantic partners. Incredibly high potential to the point realism does cave to romantic fiction a bit, a trope of the genre. However, both suitors aren't perfect, and even show traits that border on some hallmarks of toxic masculinity. On one hand, we have manipulation and the seed of an idea that nice guys who put in the time as a friend earn the upgrade to more than friend by default. On the other, we have someone for the propensity to destroy or break objects when they are angry. The protagonist does call out some of those traits with the first but seems to just sweep the other under the rug (in both this novel and the sequel). Considering why Lily wasn't wanting to date for so long, I found her lack of acknowledgement regarding the latter behavior even more problematic. It's my own personal bias showing through, but it was hard to respect the difficulty of Lily's decision because of how much a dealbreaker one suitor's actions would have been for me.

I teetered between this rating and a lower one largely because of two things. Love triangles inherently come with a choice, made by the main love interest. Stay with one, end things with the other, or even just all three getting together in some form or fashion are how things usually play out. I don't want to spoil anything, but that doesn't really come into play here, and it cements some of the issues I had with Lily. Indecisive almost to the point of flighty, she swings almost constantly between crying or euphoric. The other thing that impacted rating the most is ease of reading. British and American standards of English differ substantially on the use of commas, and for readers venturing beyond their borders, it can take some getting used to. However, it was the sometimes frequent missing words that detracted from the reading experience a bit, especially since it seemed to occur more in linchpin or highly emotional scenes.

Romance fans that enjoy love triangles that see-saw to the very end should take a chance on For the Love of Lily, especially those with a soft spot for golden retriever personalities in their men.

Irreverent and sarcastic at times then waxing toward love and gratitude at others, Undetectable shares the survival story of a flawed but genuine individual. Each chapter and section marches chronologically forward, usually grouped by the rise and fall of relationships the author enters hopefully into. This isn't a memoir where the focus tries to purport themselves as courageously perfect. It's an invitation to voyeuristically partake in someone's struggle to find connection when a disease and society often punishes him for it.

The style of writing used in Undetectable is different from what I've read in most modern memoirs. Wording and flow aren't direct but come with a flourish. Yet, the author never sacrifices on the substance either. Instead of straightforward prose, the delivery almost seems lyrical or even poetic. When we are treated to the first poem inspired by Charles' life, that feeling makes more sense.

I was fascinated most by the emotions conveyed as the author shares his story and the history learned along the journey. We follow not just the rise and fall of relationships, but the rise and fall of treatments. From herbs to pioneering drugs, the hope of a cure and the setback of sometimes disastrous side effects drive the narrative. Vanity and sense of self war with the need to survive, both physically and mentally.

Undetectable would appeal to a broad spectrum of nonfiction reader. History from the perspective of a person living with AIDS. Not one of the first, as the author is quick to point out, but one that's ridden the waves of pioneering treatments. I also recommend this book to those looking for a memoir that presents with a flourish but doesn't lose the lead.

*This did not affect my rating because I don't think the published ebook would have this problem, but the epub version up for review had the first few characters of each line cut off.

I continue to appreciate the unique fantasy elements in the newest installment of the Weirdwater series. The staples of swords and dragons from the genre don't feature, but the world that author Dani Finn is able to build still feels very much fantastical. The World Within also incorporates many elements of steampunk, and not just in the form of an “olli,” an in universe and sometimes vibrating sex toy.

Continuing on after Unpainted, the story can be read as both a stand alone or as part of the larger series. The title shares a name with the new business returning characters have opened. Though, business doesn't really do the complex they've built justice. High end sex shop meets consultation and education meets mind and body health spa. The location features so prominently, it's almost like another character. It also serves as the impetus behind the romantic leads of the story first meeting.

I very much enjoyed reading the books that came before this one in the series, but I think I would have enjoyed reading The World Within more as a stand alone. Enough detail and world building is given that fresh readers shouldn't be confused joining with this as the first chapter. As a returning reader though, I felt that some of the continuing characters didn't completely match up with themselves in the new story. Some of the terminology also seemed to change a bit from one novel to the next.

Rich description and immersive world building continue to be highlights of the Weirdwater series. In a way, it's almost too good because when the veneer slips even a little, it's made more apparent by comparison. A few modern colloquialisms slip in with this one that I don't remember happening much in the previous novels. This and a personal preference for romances that don't seem like instant love also contributed to my rating.

Readers looking for a high spice story involving fantasy elements with LGBTQ+ characters will enjoy The World Within. If fantasy only involves high, world-ending stakes and sword slinging, this isn't the read for you. Compelling characters, a sweet romance, and a lavish world make this a book worth grabbing!

I wasn't planning on starting another book after going on a bit of a binge, but something about the excerpt provided with The Space She Made For Me was too captivating. What I thought had been a cliffhanger was the entirety of the first story in this anthology, though. It's also a very good indicator of what you can expect from the rest of the collection. Bite-sized stories with compelling characters that make you feel, even if they aren't exactly “happy feels” much of the time.

Every piece of the collection is beautiful in its own way, exploring both hopeful and hopeless situations. I gave the rating for this review based on the overall work, but the parts making it up each deserved it as well. I also appreciated that each one started with possible triggers and sometimes a prompt that inspired the story. Unlike many anthologies, there's also a connection built across a few of the stories, though they all can still function as a standalone.

Missed connections, what ifs, and life just being the random chaos it can be appear heavily among many of these stories. I thoroughly enjoyed each one, but I want to stress again for potential readers that happy endings are less of a feature. In addition, there is one story that kind of implies it's better not to be truthful at therapy. Overall though, I was struck by how fast I got sucked into these tales with so few words needed.

I have seen enough reviews recently that make me feel this should be pointed out. If the subtitle isn't noticeable enough, this is a sapphic collection. That means each of these short, evocative stories feature the relationship between two women as the romantic focus. While I know that isn't for everyone, the situations the characters find themselves in, and the emotional responses they have to those situations, are largely universal. Anyone looking for a quick read, or collection of quick reads, should enjoy The Space She Made For Me. Short stories don't always mean you can't develop connections with characters.

A violent coup leaves one survivor from the old regime, a young princess forced to endure torture unimaginable for the four years following. The author pulls no punches, showcasing not only some scenes of actual torture but a realistic look at the aftermath of being a victim to it. I like my harder to read fiction, but I do still need some glimmer of light to be enjoyable. Darkly visceral, the black humor of the princess keeps Forged By Pain on the right side of too much.

Names hold a strong place in the narrative, from the princess proclaiming herself “Rat” to the crippled man meant to be her abuser that she names “Pretty.” Not just irony, it highlights the trajectory of the characters and plot. Rat's self-awareness even in her madness makes her an intriguing character, one impossible not to sympathize with despite her growing obsession with revenge. She doesn't want to be called by her old name, instead taking ownership of her new self. It's harder to break what's already been broken.

The cast of characters and their interactions with Rat, either in support of or violently against, made Forged By Pain hard to put down. I became invested, and perhaps morbidly fascinated as well, in the machinations of a tortured, complex mind bent on making people pay. Here too, Bilos achieves a good balance exploring more than just negative emotions. Dialogue and description are also very strong throughout the novel.

While there is much to love about Forged By Pain, a few issues on the technical side kept this from being a higher rating for me. Errors, mostly with homophones, can distract from the otherwise flowing narrative. Formatting issues around paragraph breaks started picking up in the last portions when immersion is needed the most. There is also a plot thread that doesn't seem to fit into the rest of the story.

Readers looking for a dark fantasy with a solid revenge plot will be sure to enjoy this novel. Rat, Pretty, and the rest of the motley cast are well worth the emotional journey.