Michelle

I like Vera Kurian as an author, and LOVED Never Saw Me Coming. I still hype that book. I saw the author do a panel a couple years ago – Bouchercon 2022? – and she really sold me on Never Saw Me Coming and this lead to my well-annotated and tabbed copy.

I enjoyed so much in A Step Past Darkness, but I found it plagued with pacing issues, and one segment really detracted from the story for me, to the point that I seriously considered DNFing. 

The blurb on the back of the book really buries that there's a strong supernatural thread in this story that moves it more into horror than thriller. I'm cool with this because I read and love horror, and that this book pays homage to It (Stephen King) isn't exactly something I'm going to complain about. Still, if it weren't my thing, I'd feel deceived and possibly annoyed. 

I would love to read more books with a supernatural element from this author. 

The places where this story overlaps or echoes It are the best parts for me. Not because I find it derivative, or because these aspects weren't strong on their own, but because these are some of my favorite tropes of all time. 

I love stories about strong friendships in childhood. I love the idea of having to face childhood fears again in adulthood. I seek out books that understand that not everyone is listened to equally – that some characters have the added complication of being a part of a group or groups with less power, less chance of being believed. 

Children/teens are one of those groups. I'm always going to love when a group comes together to be more than the sum of their parts, and to support one another. 

And I sentimentally love the thought of childhood friends reuniting, even if it's to face danger. I watch the original made-for-TV “It” for those relationships. It's a weird comfort movie, but here we are. 

I cared about these characters, and where they would end up. I initially cared a lot about the central mystery, but a lot of that interest waned with time. Early on, we find out one of the main characters dies. Maddy. Hey, it's in the blurb. I really appreciated the handling of this character. We meet her as a pious Regina George, but she is written in a way that made me root for her. But this author made me root for a psychopath one time. But I hated that she died, in the best way. I think it would have packed a bigger punch if the layout of the ... well, next paragraph, 

The book is dual timelines. The first timeline finds our characters teens in 1995 and the second timeline is them again in 2015. All the main characters get POV chapters in both timelines. The book jumps back and forth between the timelines. 

I'm into the dual timelines, as should be clear, but I think I needed the story to be linear. With the POVs and the jumping back and forth it sometimes made it feel like there was no momentum. in either year. And on occasion we had to cover the same ground twice. In 2015, because we hadn't arrived at the moment in 1995, details were revealed in order to make sense that we eventually have to read in 1995. Again, it messed with the sense of momentum, and added unnecessary pages. (I've read some tomes in my time, but these 502 pages made it the longest book of 2024 so far.)

The part that really detracted for me felt discordant with the rest of the book in a way that my enjoyment never rallied from. The most non-spoilery way I can communicate this is that there's a portion of the story where we find out a lot of the back story about what's going on, but it feels very tonally different. Scripted. Obviously, this is all fiction, but in a novel it felt like for a while we were in a 90s TV show where the characters need to know things fast, so they're for the time of this episode going to stumble upon just what they need, no more because they'll be swept to the next thing they need to know, and be helped to do so in a way that when transferred to another medium reveals the artificiality of it all. 

As much as I become immersed in a novel, I don't quite forget it's a novel, but I suspend disbelief. I invest in that world, and the general underpinnings of novels. This portion asked me to abide by a different set of rules and underpinnings and made me hyper-aware this is all made up. I specify a 90s show because novels, TV, and cinema (why do I hear this in the voice of Lazslo from What We Do in the Shadows?) today are more stylistically similar. 

I hated this shift so much that I put the book aside for a couple days. I saw I had 10 days left on the library loan, silently apologized to the 5 people waiting, and took some time. I didn't DNF because I really did care about these characters, but it was never the same. 

I in no way think this issue is going to be universal. I in no way want to discourage anyone from reading a book that really has a lot going for it because of my issue. I'm truly only sharing my stumbling block. 

The bad guy provided some chills, but he wasn't Pennywise scary, by any means, and I would have liked this amped up, to be honest.  

Spoilers about the ending, various events, and the season 3 finale of Buffy. Honestly, only read this if you've read the book. The ending, if I'm not missing anything, was extremely happy under the circumstances. I realize it would have been stronger if Jia had died, and it feels like a cop out that she didn't, but I can't be mad. I wanted this characters to be okay. I wish Maddy could have been okay. And Milky, who seems to have died of old age, but I still want a miracle.  When the pastor died, it reminded me of how the mayor died on Buffy – with that moment of, “Well, I guess that's that.” That's the type of 90s TV reference I love! I will choose to believe that was intentional.

I'm horrible at summing up. Good book with tropes I like. Pacing was a bit slow. Horror could have been more horrifying. One thing that really bugged me. Would love to see more horror by Vera Kurian, or anything, really. I want to follow these characters forever, but instead will wish them well in all future endeavors. The next person in line for this book at the library is going to wake up to a nice surprise – unless they're like me and have a ridiculous amount of books on hold. 

Genuinely creepy and quite readable, but also a bit derivative, and doesn't hold up to too much contemplation. (Contemplation makes it all so much sillier and absurd.) Also, the premise isn't fully explored. Weird vibe toward women. 

A happily childless man goes on a chocolate run in order to have a lazy, happy day on the couch with his equally-happy-to-be-childless girlfriend. He sees a harried woman with a screaming child. He makes himself known. Soon the woman is dead, and he's somehow the child's dad. 

The set-up is good, and it flows in the way horror stories tend to do – with an inevitable March toward “How am I doing? Not great!”

Sour Candy starts out very stylistically (Stephen) Kingesque. The main character even drops a “tough titty said the kitty” reference, which – trust – is a phrase King has used a lot. Where it bothered me is that this guy survives a car crash, the premise of the story lands on him, he does the rote denial very briefly, and then he becomes strangely omniscient in the midst of chaos. Like, he grasps too much, too fast, about a child who has said maybe 1 sentence to him, or 2. Essentially: If I do this, he'd do that, or make this character do this thing. 

Then, the story becomes more Lovecraftian in terms of an alternative world, a lot of red in an alien landscape, tentacles. 

The middle of the story is largely about the main character's testing the boundaries and paying the price, but the day-to-day is sketchy. Other than he is only allowed to eat hallucinatory (or revelatory) sour candy, which is wrecking him. In a novella, something has to give, but what gave was making this all as harrowing as it could be. 

His time with the boy – Adam – is glossed over. He takes him to normal places you take a child and sometimes the child screeches in these situations. That's clever for reasons I'm assuming most people get – kids are like that, and if you're the caregiver, you are now very much in the spotlight. 

It feels like there's more there, though. The people struggling to maintain their sanity as the children screams a store down still ultimately love that child. We know Adam is good at his masquerade and it feels like our main character being lured into caring would have fleshed out the story. His fighting the pull. When he was the other end of this, a witness to this child terrorizing his “mom,” he had sympathy, but he was also annoyed, judgemental. Now, it's his turn, and I'm not sure the story went there. 

There's another author I was reminded of. Richard Laymon. His books were written with very much the male gaze. This book wasn't fully like tat, but the women were written about in a (lightly) objectifying way in contrast to men.  “Attractive, probably used to be attractive, attractive-but-severe.” 

His girlfriend is all lingerie, sex, and innuendo. I get we're in a novella, and that this probably does read as paradise that is about to be lost through the lens of a straight man when he only has limited space to convey it.  But you lose something, too, in not making their relationship more, in not making her more. You lose something for at least some of your women readers. It's the difference between the main character losing a playmate and losing a soulmate. 

A couple of exchanges in the book also felt like they were mocking “wokeness.” The benefit of the doubt says it was just this guy digging himself deeper to the authorities, looking like a jerk to them by saying the wrong thing, but I don't know. 

There's a thing that happens at the end that tends to paint this child as karmic, a punishment, as opposed to completely random, which makes me wonder what's our guy's crime when the next guy is a cop who clearly abuses his daughter and has rage issues. Or maybe in fleshing out that one character it created an unintentional correlation and it all IS random. 

Now that I'm thinking about it, I wish the main character were either more admirable or more villainous. A scenario where he was more sexist and more contemptuous of “PC run amuck and parents who let their kids run wild” might have hit. A version where he was a better guy and fully in love with his girlfriend would have hit in a different way. 

I really enjoyed reading it. The only thing that bugged me as I read was his omniscience and the male gaze thing, and this wasn't bothering me too much. It's only upon ruminating on it in my sleep – I do that – and typing this out that it ages a little more poorly. It's still a pretty good tale, but I'd also not think about it too hard. 

 I enjoyed Delicate Condition from conception to birth, but the last portion – the epidural most have kicked in – took it from like to love. (I don't even know what I'm saying here.) I am giving it 5 stars, but I know this is extra subjective. It had themes I'm into, and it's the kind of horror I enjoy, but I know this is niche.

This is presented as a modern day version of Rosemary's Baby. I not only love Rosemary's Baby but recently buddy read it again with my husband. I'm glad of the timing, with RB fresh in my mind as I read DC.

The comparison is apt and I'm sure RB was in Danielle Valentine's mind as she wrote. Ira Levin seemed to have an understanding of how sexism plays a role in Rosemary's isolation, in her sense of powerlessness. Danielle Valentine, understandably, has an even better grasp of all the many wants misogyny manifests.

Anna, our main character, is a wealthy and privileged white woman. Rosemary, to a slightly lesser extent, is the same. Danielle Valentine, however, acknowledges something that probably didn't occur to Ira Levin – that childbirth is more perilous for women of color, even wealthy women of color. These women are acknowledged and woven into the narrative.

The author can't fully speak for those women, but she can acknowledge them. Our sisters. Now, publishers have to step up to allow all women to be able to tell their stories, to allow women of color to be in the spotlight, to be the main characters. And obviously society and the medical field also need to step up. For all the people who give birth, or struggle to conceive.

(As an aside, I'm also reading Femina, a book about the forgotten women of the middle ages, all the lost voices.)

To an extent, THAT'S the central question of the book. Who looks out for the women that the patriarchy has failed? Especially women at their most vulnerable. Who helps those most in need?

In terms of horror, it's there and there are some scenes that are impactful – gross or anxiety inducing – but the author pulls some punches. There are some additional scenes in the back of my copy that had been removed that didn't pull those punches. Essentially, the book is big on it was just a dream/hallucination. Objectively, this feels like a cop-out, but given my own sensitivities, I'm also relieved. Heh, if you read you'll know.

I'd also like to say the editing isn't as tight as it could be, with some inconsistencies and some line editing issues. 

But there's a lot of genuine horror moments, many just legitimate pregnancy symptoms and side effects turned up to 11. 

I'm childless by choice, but this didn't stop me from rooting for Anna, for rooting for everyone who wants to have children, who has complications on the way, who has been dismissed by medical professionals. (I've experienced the latter, just not in this circumstance.)

Anna's husband is, by the way, the worst. It was interesting to read that a lot of people thought the author was too harsh. I personally laughed. Like, do it again! But spoilers, Darlings. 

The explanations for what all had been happening tied together surprisingly nicely. I think it's debatable if, um, well – you might have your own take on if everyone's choices and actions were justified. The story created a feeling of absolute paranoia very well. I trusted literally no one. I think again without spoiling, we find out that the paranoia is justified, but that there are also forces working in Anna's favor. 

This was a library borrow for me, which is about due, and I also see it's available on KU. (And the subject of this season of American Horror Story.) I'm going to return the book to the library as soon as I post this – there's a waiting line. However, I plan on purchasing my own copy. So, while I know this story won't be everyone's cup of tea, this is my highest praise. 

I liked this book just fine, but I should have loved it. I guess I didn't vibe with the writing. This is satirical, but I think I might have needed that amped up a notch. 

I've read reviews that say there's only one (intentionally) likeable character, but I suppose I didn't feel that way. These characters are flawed and disingenuous, but I didn't really dislike them, other than Jeremy, AKA The Catch. I think these are women we're supposed to write off as vapid, but they're also all women with plans and agency. 

The contestants seem pretty “redeemable,” if redemption is needed – but without spoiling, we all know there's no time for all that. Still, in a book where the tone and length prohibits too much depth and growth, there are moments that still hint at more nuance and complexity.  

The flaws are very human flaws exacerbated by the reality show environment and reality show culture, and by a society that rewards certain behaviors. 

There's a love story woven through out this that we know ends in loss, and that's extremely poignant. This operates on it's own level outside of the satire. Whatever other antics, the author takes seriously the concept of sapphic women having place to belong.

I watch reality shows, but more Housewives than dating competitions, but I'm still familiar with the culture, and the way shows are discussed. It's shocking how well Samantha Allen channels those discussions, the usual suspects, the low-key combativeness and air of superiority. Unnerving. 

Our story becomes very gory toward the end, but due to the tone it's more of a detached grossness. Viscera without being visceral. The tone kept the scary at a distance, too, but that's okay. I don't presume to know what scares other people, but I think I can confidently say not too many people will be checking the locks and trembling under their covers/.

I think “Patricia” might grow on me more over time, since I dreamed about it, and that usually denotes staying power. 

The writing was lovely in spots, and very evocative, and I enjoy a dreamlike feel where the logic and boundaries are a bit off, but I really think I needed this to be occasionally more grounded for contrast. 

My fave tribute to feminism, apples, and The Garden of Eden, remains Comfort Me with Apples, by Catherynne M. Valente. 

I read/listened to this a couple weeks ago. It devastated me at the time. It devastates me now. 

The story is in 2 parts. The first part is from the POV of an Israeli soldier, I don't remember his exact rank, except that he had authority, as he discovers a Bedouin girl. It's based on a real case, and we see the tragic end of this child. I say child because the actual girl seems to have been under 15.  

The tone of this first part is very matter of fact. This man is cold, emotionless, fastidious, and regimented, and so this is the way the story is expressed even as atrocities happen. As he allows and participates in atrocities. 

The second portion is the story of a Palestinian woman who reads an account of the first part of the story, and realizes this happened on her birthday, albeit a different year. She feels compelled to find out more, even though this involves her going to places forbidden to her by the occupation. 

She is not as detached as the man in the first portion, and yet her perspective is not overwrought either. I say this because there's something compelling about the matter-of-fact sharing of all the Palestinian villages that simple have disappeared from the map. That Israeli maps and old maps of the area tell conflicting narratives. 

I don't think you can read this erasure of lives, or villages, alongside the almost forgotten incident with the girl, without hearing the voices of so many Palestinians saying this – that the goal now is to literally and metaphorically erase a people from not just maps but from history. 

As she explores where the girl was assaulted and murdered, the past echoes in ways she can't know, but the reader does, as as the divide between then and now is thin. A dog shows up in both timeline, and it's left to the reader's imagination if it's somehow, mystically, the same dog connecting the two girls/women. If that dog is somehow a ghost demanding justice, or acknowledgement, for the thing he witnessed. 

The ending feels inevitable and packs a punch. 

This was light and inclusive when I needed that. I'm an introvert who loves karaoke and so I enjoyed the introverted Sam who still liked to sing with their friend group. Sam has a crush on Lily, a plus-sized goddess who when she sings commands the room as she serves fashion and confidence. The confidence doesn't translate to the real world, but Sam doesn't know this. When Sam's group bails, Lily invites then to her table and her group. 

I really enjoyed this group of people and the concept for this series – Moonies, the karaoke bar. I plan to continue with this series. 

Eric LaRocca is a talented author who writes (often gross) little stories that stay with you. This short-story collection is no exception. Writing this review a few weeks after reading/listening really cements my favorite stories, the ones I remember best. 

Bodies are for Burning hit hard. The main character has an obsession with setting things, people, on fire. Intrusive thoughts. Lots of intrusive thoughts. And now she's watching her flammable niece. I don't advise asking anyone to babysit who tells you they're not cut out for babysitting. Anyhow, I get not wanting to babysit, and I have my own intrusive thoughts – mine are just hating on myself and tossing out the worst-case scenarios or demanding to know the worst thought I could have in the moment, and giving it to me. I thought the message that this woman isn't monstrous, just really sick and fighting the sickness was poignant. 

The Strange Things We Become hit hard. It's a story of impending loss and the mix of grief and resentment that comes along for the ride. 

You're Not Supposed to Be Here is THAT story – the one you expect to see in the latest horror anthology show where a seemingly idyllic day turns into a nightmare and the only way out, to save what matters, is to strip yourself bare, flaws and sins and warts on display. And then the question becomes, how do you live with yourself, and how can you live with what you now know? Can this marriage survive? Um, probably not. 

Where Flames Burned Emerald as Glass was very pleasing in how the puzzle pieces fit together. Another story that asks its lead character – and possibly the reader – to get real with hard choices, and can you live with them. The decisions that are both noble and that just doesn't look good from the outside looking in. And who doesn't love the inevitability of a prophesy falling into place?

I'll Be Gone Again is honestly a really well-done story that for my own reasons, my own regrets, I don't want to think about too hard. A gut punch. And NOW I'm thinking about it. Ugh.

Please Leave or I'm Going to Hurt You hits on one of the top taboos and so it's deeply uncomfortable. But poignant. But uncomfortable. But saaaad. 

The author is great, but I need to be in the right place for his stories to not take me down too dark of a path. And my friend never gave me back my copy of Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke. 

I'm not going to rate this one. I liked it, and the author's tying together their iconic moments in seeing trans representation. I'm really glad I read (listened) to this one, but I think I really wanted a deeper dive, probably as a product of my age. I know a lot of the representation is new, but I wanted more about the roots of it all. 

I'm happy to post this as a read book to get it and the author in front of more eyes. This will be an invaluable resource going forward and a building block for more exploration of the topic and people with an interest in LGBTQIA+ topics, history, and future should check it out. Maybe literally, because, libraries. I borrowed my copy from the Queer Liberation Library, an online lending library I highly recommend. 

T. Kingfisher is one of my favorite authors and I'm always looking for the latest or have a few things from her backlist. What Feasts at Night is a quite good follow up to What Moves the Dead, which is a retelling of Poe's The Fall of the House of Usher. 

In “Feasts” Alex Easton returns home to Gallacia to find the family's hunting lodge in disrepair and the caretaker no more. The feel is very true to older horror tales, like Dracula, where the “peasants” know the score and the score is Restless Spirits and folk magic/remedies and generally not monkeying around with things best left unmonkeyed around with. This is the book for when you want to crawl into bed at the end of the day and feel safe and warm while things are not all right on the page. 

If I could ask the author anything, it would be why the animal skeletons? I'm not just talking about this book, but a very recurring element of Kingfisher's stories. Often the bones are, um, alive? The author clearly loves animals and so pets have a great chance in these books, but sometimes the pet is a bone dog. You understand. 

In this case, it's not a dog, and the instance is really disturbing, although for you pet people, I'll say it's okay. 

This series will always have a place on my shelves because this style of story takes me make to teen me. A story for the thick anthologies of old horror I used to borrow from the library. In the case of What Moves the Dead, my not insignificant fascination with Poe. 

I received a Netgalley ARC of The Chain. These are my honest thoughts.

If you're a fan of women finding solidarity in the shared stories of misogyny, this is your book. The primary villain is an ex of the author, who did her, and every other woman he ever met, extremely wrong in ways it's hard to understand if you have empathy and a conscience. 

But the story isn't only about this unnamed man, although the thread of the harm he did is woven through the story. It's also a story of other men, of a system and a society that will not hold these men accountable, and of how women navigate this world alone and together. 

Chimene Suleyman is open, and vulnerable, and raw about her experience and the aftermath. Thje damage this man left in his wake. She speaks of loss due to her abortion. She speaks of almost all-encompassing depression, and she speaks of the chain created by women who share their stories coming together. 
This was almost a perfect book for me other than timelines got a little muddled on occasion. 

This is a reread of one of my favorite books of all time. 

Graphic novel. Sapphic. Witch. Werewolf. Non-binary. Disability rep. Asian rep. While I love these elements, and the gorgeous color palette, the chemistry was somehow off for me. 3 stars. (Glad I read it, not planning to revisit, happy to recommend.) 

I have no idea how to pull my thoughts together and review this coherently. My brain was still trying to puzzle it out while I fell asleep, in my dreams, and upon waking. Also, right now. 

The information I can give is this is sad, and maaaaaybe a little hopeful. There are a ton of POV characters and secondary characters to keep track of, and they're largely not interacting with one another, at least not until the end. However best you remember characters and keep them straight is that I'm advising here. 

There, There's ending leaves a lot of questions unanswered and so be prepared for it not to be wrapped up in a neat bow. 

The writing was so good! Sad and poetic, a little funny, a little foreboding. 

Tananarive Due is such a good writer. I still think of the places she took me with My Soul to Keep, and all her strengths there are on display here. I'm more of a pure horror girl than a scifi girl, and that's reflected in my personal favorites in this anthology, but I think readers who are the opposite of me will be just as pleased. 

I think the story I'll remember the most is Haint in the Window. I don't want to say too much, but the sense of inevitability and foreshadowing in the story lead to an ending that fulfilled it's promise while offering social commentary and food for thought. 

Incident at Bear Creek Lodge was instantly amazing to me, and the more I think about it the more amazing it gets, especially with an understanding of “Classic Hollywood,” and what was asked of Black performers in order to make a living. And also some generational trauma. 

We have at least one Monkey's Paw story. For me, this is a story that takes place amidst deep loss, and asks the reader to question what they would do, risk, to reverse the loss. The reader knows, at a distance, the right thing but knows grief doesn't operate at a distance. 

Highly recommended, and I will be recommending it a lot, to anyone who will listen to me. 

According to my records, I started this on January 17th and it's now February 3rd. This is wild to me because it feels I've been struggling with this book for at least a month. 

I was excited to read this for various reasons. I DO judge a book by it's cover, and this is a gorgeous cover. (Even now, I have to say the cover matches the book well.) I love haunted houses and a gothic vibe. I like interesting family dynamics. I was stoked to see those elements in a story set in Vietnam. 

And I loved a short story from this author in the “Night of the Living Queers” anthology! I still think it's a great story, but I wonder if the short nature made me okay with mysterious elements and unanswered questions. 

“Haunting” delivered on a lot of parasitic creepiness, and I loved reading about Jade's relationship with her sister, Lily. Jade had a complicated relationship with her father, and carries anger toward him but also guilt at something she told him, and I liked the idea of that. Jade is also exploring her same sex attraction, and that's an appreciated element. The book had terrific ongoing reminders of the costs and oppressiveness of colonization. These are things I want to read.

But the writing just didn't get me to where I expected to be. I just didn't love the execution. I wanted more scenes with the sister and father. More clarity on what was going on. Jade seemed to make leaps in understanding that didn't make sense to me based on what she would/should know. I pushed through on this one a little bit because I want to prioritize diverse horror this year and I felt I needed to read this one in particular. 

I recommend this to fans of gothic stories/haunted houses, that are creeped out by bugs and parasites, that want a setting that is a little less common in combination with these tropes and who want what that element lends, and certainly to people who like these things and read diversely. 

I'm glad I read it. It brought enough that I know will stick with me. I think it might be influential for what it does. Because the pages didn't turn themselves/my interest wasn't fully engaged, I think I'll play it by ear on future titles by Trang Thanh Tran. I really did like the story (Nine Stops) in Night of the Living Queers. 

I received an ARC of this title from Netgalley. These are my honest thoughts.

Scissor Sisters is a horror anthology about villainous lesbians. I found it under the horror category on Netgalley, and that's the genre I see it listed as elsewhere.

I love anthologies. Depending on if you're a half full or half empty person, they either provide you with new opportunities to fall in love regularly or they provide you with stories that sometimes might not be to your tastes, or perhaps the good stories end too soon.

To that, I say, “Yes.”

Scissor Sisters is full of really good stories, and if you're a fan of the premise, there will be stories that please you. There are also stories, however, that needed work, or that fall apart if you think too hard. And there are stories that really needed to be expanded to work. There was only one story that made me want to gouge my eyes out.

While it's subjective, I'd also label some of the stories as more fantasy than horror. I like fantasy, I just like to choose when I want to read something.

The anthology starts out very strong for me. Gladys Glows at Night, by Hatteras Mange was the nearly perfect entry in. If you've read Radium Girls (non-fiction) and thought that there still needed to be more justice, lots more justice, this is a satisfying story.
You Oughta Be in Pictures, by Anastasia Dziekan was also a strong story to have in the beginning. Gory, and lovely, and deep, and tragic. It left me sad and uncomfortable, and so it should.

Teratoma, Cacodaemon, Erinya, by Avra Margariti was about our inner furies. And it was kinda gross. And touching. Torbalan's Gift, by Grace R. Reynolds was about freedom and anger.

Buckskin for Linen, by Mae Murray was haunting, and while I didn't mean the pun, it's appropriate. It's a tale reminding us of the horrors – ugh, there I do again – of residential schools and denying people their families, culture, and heritage. Like the aforementioned Gladys Glows at Night, it's satisfying to read about girls and women meting out justice. And then of course sadness that this justice hasn't been attained in the real world. That the stories are also sapphic makes them all the more powerful.

Some of the stories channel fairy tales like Hansel and Gretel,or classic horror like Frankenstein, or  just plain classics like Great Expectations, with – for me – mixed results.

I want to give a mention to the “odd man out.” According to the note at the back, the pub wants to give the reader a little something more – lagniappe – at the end of their books, so they added a queer (but not sapphic) story called The Call of the Sea, by Eric Raglin, which was delightful.

There's a list of content warnings in the back of the book, which I appreciate. With so many stories the list of CWs will be extensive. I also found them validating because one story is listed as having pseudo-incest and when I read this story, and that bothered me, I didn't know how I'd deal with it in a review. Was I reading too much into it? Would people TELL me I was reading too much into it? No, it's listed right there.

While I loved the stories I mentioned – for the most part – and enjoyed others like Enamored (Shelley Lavigne ) and Oubliette (L.R. Stuart) there were a few stories I felt were misplaced in a horror anthology (subjective, I know.) Or that needed to be novella length, like a story that had an amazing beginning and ending, but there was nothing in the middle, so it all fell flat. And there was one of two that felt more vibes than stories, and as if the author couldn't really say what was going on either. One was just spot on and amazing until an ending that got it's shock value from directly contradicting itself.

I do recommend Scissor Sisters, and I think I found some new authors, which I think anthologies are great at doing, but I really felt those exceptions to the quality. 

T. Kingfisher is always good. This is marketed as a kids book, and it very well might be if you know your kid. At least one “swear,” and grown tough me found one scene scary. But I think books for children should acknowledge primal fears, which we all feel. 

Minor Mage is a coming of age story where adults expect a child to fix their problems. It's about mob mentality. It's about this child learning to process all of this and figure out who he wants to be, what kind of adult he wants to become. 

I want more books with snarky armadillos. 

This was such a good read. We follow Effie as she navigated her senior year of high school and figures out her plans for college. We see her with her best friends and explore the evolution of a friendship when everyone will be scattering to different school. And there's a love interest. 

Effie has Cerebral Palsy and uses a wheelchair. We see her experiencing casual (often unconscious) ableism and denial of access to places by people who mean well, but do little. A lot of the book is Effie being clear on her career goals and trying to find a college that will support not just her dreams but her access to those dreams. I'm left thinking any institution that doesn't work for inclusion is all the poorer in the end in the loss of brilliant hearts and minds. 

I light up at his compliment, but dial it back quickly. They want me, yes, but a want is just a want. They haven't done the work. 

I received an ARC of this title through Netgalley. These are my thoughts. 

I have a bad habit of thinking early on I can predict my eventual star rating. So much can happen between that first impression and the end. Stories can stumble, or find their footing, and endings can elevate or cast the story down into the bowels of ... somewhere. 

I spent a lot of this story thinking it was for sure at least 4 stories. I found a misspelled word here or a misused word there, but – overall – it read really nicely and I was invested. I wanted an explanation for various intriguing developments and so the pages turned themselves. 

The main character was very likeable and provided autism representation. I welcomed that choice and also thought it added to the story in terms of her having to deal with biases. We had a plot where she was always under the best of circumstances going to be unable to provide evidence for things she knew to be true, and that's before adding people mistrusting her ability to perceive events correctly. I felt that was an honest way to go. 

Unfortunately, the ending didn't hold up or satisfy or, really, work. It's quite possible the author could explain it in a way that would make it hold together, but I don't see how. In the end, at least two conflicting things have to be true, and that makes no sense – severe cognitive dissonance. The alternative is that both these things are false, and with a main character with autism, I'm not liking the implications. 

After I read this book, and felt a general dissatisfaction and sense that the ending didn't hold together, I took a bath and thought about it. And I kept remembering what felt like inconsistencies or a dropped plot line. This is a short book, a novella, and while I like that length that doesn't mean I always think it works. I think this story needed more pages, and so when it feels like there are dropped plot points I think that's wasted real estate. 

Anyhow, I'm thinking about all this, and even though I'm in the tub I think about the rabbit hole of the TV Tropes page, and the trope called Fridge Logic. It's basically where the you finish a story, go about your life, and all of a sudden a thought pops up into your head about how something you accepted in the story makes no sense. 

I think the ending only works at all, a little, if you don't think about it. And if you can reconcile it all, that holds a creepy message. This is disappointing considering I was so very into this story most of the way, to the point of discussing with my husband how I couldn't wait to find out what was going on. 

That this is a 3 star book for me after the ending is a testament to how much pleasure I took in most of it. And how disappointed I was in the end/ending. I would love to read more by the author, but I think I'd read reviews first to make sure the story holds all the way through. 

I received a copy of this title from Netgalley. Here are my thoughts. 

I should have liked this book based on Louisiana, the bayou, a family curse, and a haunted house. Instead, I really struggled with the writing and was unable to engage. The language was often overwrought, but in other cases felt lifeless, and I was turned off by it early on, which affected everything. While I cared about the characters in abstract and wanted some answers, there were few moments where I enjoyed this journey. 

Towards the end, I found some moments and concepts scary or interesting, but it's a long journey there. I liked the concept of the ghosts as truly lost spirits wandering in confusion. I'm always creeped out by that. 

I lightly cared about the characters, but not at the level I needed to. They have this deeply traumatic backstory while not being deep characters. I didn't want them harmed, but also felt like I wasn't going to be deeply wounded no matter what. The only characters I truly cared about were ones with their fates well sealed. 

It took me months to finish this book. I could have quit 100 times. This was such a miss for me. 

But I don't recommend anyone write off A Dark Roux – great title – based solely on my experience. This story contains great elements that might work perfectly for someone who doesn't have a road block of not connecting with the writing. Check out a sample, and if you like the voice and the plot, setting, etc. feel right, I believe you will have a more satisfying experience. 

Romance novel primarily set in a snowed-in airport at Christmas featuring a school teacher and a veterinarian. Likeable characters with great chemistry. Nice cast of characters. A “sick” dog with an easy-to-figure out diagnosis. The last portion of the book is set in the “real world” as they deal with familial problems and estrangements they each have while also handling the aftermath of the argument they had right before they parted. Some of that lagged for me. Low/no spice. 

 I received an ARC of Wild Things through Netgalley. My thoughts are my own. 

Wild Things is a romance featuring enemies to lovers as found family with a large splash of humor. There's also a fixer-upper house in the country and 4 chickens. This was a feel good novel from start to finish, even the sad moments felt good, knowing it would all work out. 

I think a lot of books, a lot of romances, try for the vibes that this author manages so successfully. I found the story funny, and touching, and I'm a sucker for old houses, the country, close friends groups, and possibly chickens. 

The leads, El and Ray have great chemistry as friends and (sapphic) lovers. I really wanted to spend time with them, and see them become a couple, because they felt so right together. The other 2 home owners, Will and Jamie, were great too, with Jamie being particularly funny. He loves his chickens!

When I reach for a romance novel, this is exactly what I want to pick up, and the type of book to make me feel optimistic when the world seems so exhausting and cynical. 

(An easy 4 and 1/2 stars.) 

I received an ARC of this title through Netgalley. The thoughts and opinions are my own. 

Godly Heathens is the first book in a series, possibly a duology, about gods cut off from their home world, and in a cycle of reincarnation that keeps drawing together – largely to try to kill one another, using a magical knife. 

The main character is Gem, a nonbinary Seminole teen. (To give you an idea of the vibe, one of the chapters is There are no Cis Gods.) When we meet them, they're on the brink of discovery/remembering their divine identity. Those gory, but often erotic, dreams? Memories. They reunite with Willa Mae/Rory, with whom they've shared many lifetimes. 

We're told early on that the gods, even if they don't always consciously pursue one another, tend to end up in each other's lives, and so many of the people in Gem's life are, well, not people. Or not just people. 

Among the gods we meet is Poppy, who is a death job with a quirky fashion sense. Has that been done before? Yes. Do I still love it? Also, yes. Every lifetime she's a little more like an animated corpse, for reasons. 

Gem is a character dealing with a lot even without the whole god thing. They're battling mental illness, like their father, as well as a sex addiction. They were also preyed on by at least one adult. They want to be wanted/worshiped at all times. They're a teen, with all the hormonal stuff, and having a parent to appease. 

This is a YA title, and there's part of me that would have liked to see it as an adult title simply for the increased freedom and maturity. These characters are both formidable gods, and teens, which certainly can work but it makes them feel occasionally leashed. 

It reminds me of the scene in Buffy where Anya says, “For a thousand years I wielded the power of the wish. I brought ruin on the heads of unfaithful men. I offered destruction and chaos for the pleasure of lower beings. I was feared and worshiped across the mortal globe, and now I'm stuck at Sunnydale High! A mortal! A child! And I'm flunking math!” 

None of this is to say the book is tame. There's a lot of blood and gore. Murder and torture. Gem is promiscuous, and while not everything there is spelled out, we're talking at least PG 13. If it were an adult title, it might have been more explicit, but still these topics are mature and the author doesn't pull too many punches. TWs/CWs galore. 

These gods, even the ones we root for, have their villainous moments, and Gem in the events leading up to their arrival on earth was one of the most villainous of all. The gods connive, they plot, morality wars with expediency. I found myself initially less then thrilled at the (inevitable) revelation of a certain character, but Edgmon managed to win me over. All the gods have a point, even as they're trying to kill our main character. And Gem has a point in wanting to neutralize them. 

This is very compelling read, though. While I can nitpick some of the logic, or why characters didn't always due the logical thing, I was SO INVESTED! This book ends at a pivotal moment, and I need to find out how it shakes out. There's a god that allegedly is out of play, but are they really? 

I'm going to be recommending this title a lot! 

Also, for those of you like me who want to know if the dog lives: Yes, this time around, but it's an old dog. For all I know, the dog is a secret god, though. All bets are off.

 I received an ARC of this book from Netgalley. These are my honest thoughts. 

You know the Robert Frost poem that ends “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the road less traveled by, and that has made all the difference”? The meaning of the poem is less blaze your own path and more that we justify our choices as the right ones, having no idea what the other path would have revealed. 

Going Bicoastal is very low stakes and feel good. Neither decisions – summer in New York or summer in L.A. – are bad decisions, just different ones. In some ways, but not all, she ends up coming to the same conclusions about her life. While readers might have their preferences as to love interest or location, neither is presented as a bad fate, making this an excellent choice for readers who get the new trend of warm, cozy only set in a YA contemporary romance. 

Confession: When we talk about reading diversely some people will always say, horrifyingly, that they can't relate to people who they deem different from them. I don't usually have this issue, but I do struggle with extroverts! (LOL, not so bad, right?)

Natalya is definitely an extrovert. While having shy moments, it's clear that no matter where she goes she'll make friends. Often rich friends. Whether going to see a band, or being fed at dinner parties featuring a roster of chefs, she will WILLINGLY spend a lot of time with people. I'm triple her age (I need a moment to sit with that) and I have no idea who people meet people, strike up a bond, and effortlessly become friends. Trying might kill me. 

She does like to read, though, which my introverted soul does fully comprehend. 

Natalya is Jewish, and the book – in both realities – makes clear what this means to her, that she values and thinks about traditions without being shackled to them. We read about Shabbat dinner a lot and how it varies by your families community and country of origin. I am always hyped about food descriptions, of which there are plenty. 

Food is about communion, not in the Christian sense, and this very much came into play in Going Bicoastal. When you break bread with someone, especially if you personally baked the bread, you allow them into your circle, you find out more about them, you share bits of who you are right back in time to who you were. This is very apparent in the L.A. time line.

The New York time line is more about how music connects us, which is just as vital, although I ended up feeling like I knew the N.Y. love interest – Ellie – less. Maybe because I never felt her vulnerability as much as I did the L.A. love interest, Adam. 

I'd expected more of the book to be about Natalya hashing out her issues with her mom, especially in the L.A. reality, and that didn't materialize. There just seems to be a vibe that Natalya is old enough to not dwell on the past, and mature enough to move on. Her mother, and this surprised me, didn't seem to in any substantial way change her life at the presence of her daughter. I felt this to be a missed opportunity, but the overall readership might not be invested in that so much as the romance elements and Natalya figuring out what she wants for her life. 

I had a nice time with this story, and the sense that Natalya is destined to be okay no matter what.