Alizée
What a story. Seriously—*what a book.*
Like with the rest of this series, I’m walking away feeling a bit torn. The world and characters? Easy five stars for me. I love them. But the storytelling itself can feel *heavy*—and at times, honestly, exhausting. I wanted to be completely hooked the whole way through, but the constant battles started to blur together after a while. Yes, the world is ending, Gabriel is (once again) on the brink of death, and Dior and Celene are juggling faith, feelings, and politics—but still, it got a bit repetitive.
That said, the ending *really* saved it for me. That’s when I finally got that “okay, now I need to know what happens next” feeling—and it went beyond what I expected. Around the 80% mark, I had fully accepted we were heading toward a bleak, closed ending for Gabriel and Celene… and then the book pulled the rug out from under me. The twist was so well done. Jean-François slowly realizing something was off? You could *feel* his confusion, his shock, and especially his helplessness in those final moments. It made everything click in a way that almost made me forgive some of the inconsistencies in the retelling. Honestly, I’ll take it.
Even though the book *felt* long, it definitely takes you through it emotionally. There’s so much loss that, at some point, you start losing hope right alongside the characters. Every loss hits—but the one that got me the most was Ashdrinker. She’s always just *there*, such a constant presence at Gabriel’s side that I didn’t even think of her as a separate character at times—more like this sharp, loyal, slightly charming extension of him. So when it becomes clear she’s damaged, that she might break… yeah, that one hurt. It felt like a quiet but devastating sacrifice.
I still loved De León’s wisdom (as always), and even Celene—though I have to admit, their constant back-and-forth started to frustrate me. The whole “we could kill each other” thing gets said *a lot*… and yet, nothing ever happens. They circle each other endlessly, and while Jean-François finds it entertaining, you can tell it’s going to be his downfall. And by the end, you really see just how good Celene and Gabriel are at playing their roles.
I *really* wish we had gotten Dior’s POV instead of everything filtered through Celene spying on her. Dior is such an interesting character—she’s both salvation and destruction, incredibly powerful but wanting none of it. She’s been through hell and still chooses kindness, still stays open to others. She’s basically the perfect “chosen one”… and honestly, I just wanted her to get a normal life.
At some point, I even found myself feeling a bit sorry for Fabién. He’s been built up as this major villain, but here we start to see cracks—hints that he’s not the most dangerous one after all, and that there’s more going on beneath the surface. I would’ve loved to explore that more. A prequel about him? About the Redeemer, his relationship with his brother, how he became what he is? I’d read that in a heartbeat.
And the worldbuilding—still incredible. Jay Kristoff could honestly keep writing in this universe forever and I’d keep showing up. I want stories about the Nineswords, more about the Duskdancers, I want to see Baptiste rebuild with Aaron… and maybe, finally, some quieter, hopeful stories now that the sun is starting to warm the world again.
I finally picked up Emily Wilde's Encyclopedia of Faeries and... okay, I get the hype now. It's such a charming blend of cozy fantasy and quiet adventure, wrapped in a very academic, slightly detached narrative voice that somehow works perfectly for the story.
Emily Wilde is a scholar through and through—her encyclopedia is her life's work, her main motivation, and honestly her entire personality. She travels to a remote northern island to study the Hidden Ones, expecting just another field expedition, but of course things don't go quite as planned.
What I loved most was the scholarly angle. Emily's passion for her research, the way she approaches faeries almost like case studies, and how much more comfortable she is with folklore than with people—it all felt so unique. At the same time, it made me wish the book went even deeper. We get glimpses of so many different types of fae and their stories, but often through secondhand tales rather than direct interaction. I would absolutely read a full version of her encyclopedia or even a collection of in-world folklore—there's clearly so much more to explore.
That said, when the story does lean into action, it really shines. The moments where Emily directly encounters the Folk—whether she's helping them or trying to survive them—were some of my favorites. Still, I found myself wanting more explanation in certain places, especially when it comes to symbolism. The book emphasizes how important symbols are in faerie lore, but doesn't always follow through on that (I'm still wondering about those ravens...).
As for the characters, I was surprised to find myself warming up to Wendell more than Emily. I didn't like him at first, but he really grew on me—there's more depth to him than expected, and I loved how attentive and unpredictable he can be. Emily, on the other hand, is fascinating but a bit frustrating. She insists she only cares about her work, yet her actions constantly contradict that. She can come across as cold—even cruel at times—but then shows unexpected moments of kindness and guilt. That contradiction made her feel complex, but also slightly inconsistent in a way that didn't fully land for me.
The main reason this wasn't a full 5-star read, though, is the emotional distance and the ending. Emily's personality naturally limits the emotional depth, which I didn't mind at first, but I did end up missing that stronger emotional pull. And the ending felt... abrupt. There's so much build-up to this important academic conference, and then we're cut off right before it happens. I assume it'll be explored in the next book, but it was a bit frustrating to not get that payoff here.
I'm definitely curious about the sequel and where the story goes next, but at the same time, this book could have stood perfectly well on its own with just a bit more closure. As it is, I'm interested—but not quite compelled to jump into book two immediately.
I finished Empire of the Vampire wondering if, in the next instalment, we'd finally step out of the storytelling frame and live the story alongside Gabriel. But no luck—he's still recounting everything to Jean-François, and I have a feeling we will still have a bit of that in book three either. That said, this time Celene joins the narration, and honestly? It's a delight. They can barely stand each other, and even when they've lived through the same events, they disagree on everything—and that tension is just so fun to read.
In this book, everything escalates. We're handed hope after hope of salvation, only for it to unravel into disappointment, betrayal, and brutal twists. There's so much hatred, so many fights and reckonings—but also threads of love, resilience, and hard-earned wisdom woven through it all.
As always, Gabriel de León is a joy to follow—but I do question his judgment when it comes to certain... storytelling choices. I mean, I understand the need to recount the full story for Jean-François's bloodmother and her obsession with the Grail—but did we really need all the details of his bedroom escapades? Some things could have stayed unsaid.
Celene is such a strong addition to the narrative. Like Gabriel, she exists in that morally grey space—but she leans much closer to the edge of villainy. Her heart is there, somewhere, but her methods are... questionable, to say the least. She justifies everything through her faith, which makes her a fascinating foil to Gabriel—where he doubts, she believes blindly. A true zealot. And after that final revelation? I'm incredibly curious to see how her faith holds up when it's truly tested. Even if I don't think it will...
Then there's Dior, who really came into her own in this book. I wasn't fully sold on her in Empire of the Vampire, but here, we watch her grow, fight, and endure. Despite everything—the horrors, the betrayals, the constant danger—she still tries to believe in people. Even when it costs her. Especially when it costs her. She's hunted by both vampires and humans alike for what she is, yet she refuses to let that define or break her.
The worldbuilding continues to expand in such a satisfying way. We dive deeper into vampire lore, the five families, their origins—this book is packed with revelations, and I'm so curious to see how it will all come together in the end. But what really stood out to me were the duskdancers. They feel like such a unique, fully realized part of this world—accepted, yet still set apart, a little feared, a little misunderstood. And they're incredible. I would honestly read an entire book just about them, and I really hope we see more in the next installment.
Also, just a quick note: if you still think vampires are “cute”... this series will cure you of that. The gore, the violence, the sheer brutality inflicted on bodies—human and otherwise—is relentless. This is absolutely not a story for the faint of heart.
And finally, special mention to Aaron and Baptiste for their quiet kindness and their almost Romeo and Juliet-like fate, to Joaquim for being so trusting and deeply in love, and to Lilith for being an absolute queen—even if she's firmly on the wrong side. And to all the other characters who breathe so much life into this story—this world wouldn't be the same without them.
On to the next book! I think we're going to have some more actions - If you can believe it! Looks like some little mice were waiting quietly in Margot's castle...
This is the last book of the Holidays with Hart series and I was worried - Raya is such a Scrooge and a non-believer in love that I was worried about where we were going with this book!
But I loved it.
We have a reverse grumpy vs Sunshine, where Finn is always smiling and desperate to get Raya to relax a bit and see him as a serious potential ultimate boyfriend.
While the beginning of the book felt a bit farfetched for me (the whole “business relationship to avoid connexion” did not really draw me in), we slowly get into heavy, emotional, life changing discussions and discoveries.
I enjoyed how we talked about mental health and burn out with Raya and how a job does not define you. This was already a message in the previous book, but here we get to see WHY you can't center your life around your job - it's just not good for you.
But what really got me emotional is how we approach grief and coping mechanism with Finn. His raw, overflowing emotions towards the end really hit home.
There are some inconsistencies with the previous books that bothered me a bit, like the fact that we never mention or see Eloise working as PR with the Comets... it was such a big thing for the character, what happened?
But we have Finn learning some sign language for Raya's father (the only boy really committing?) and some very cute Christmassy activities.
I have to come clean and say that I've read My Lucky Charm first, which is book 2 of this series and... I preferred Eloise's love story.
But still, this is was a strong read. It has one of my favourite romance's trop and it was perfectly executed: the Fake Dating !! This is what we want! Contract, mutual benefits and slowly falling in love.
I really loved discovering Poppy and her culinary world. She has a dream and she go for it even if the odds were against her - and that's bravery. Dallas is totally right when he told her she is sooo brave.
It was also nice to discover Dallas and how he struggled to reconcile his turbulent past with who he now wants to become. I wished we would have seen more hockey to be honest but it is what it is.
One miss for me is how we don't develop more the ASL. I loved how it has been integrated in the storyline, how we are always told that Poppy's family is constantly signing when her dad is around, turning on the captions and how we don't discuss that they have to do it. It made ASL nothing extraordinary. However I would have loved to see our love interests show an... interest in it. Family is such a big thing for the Hart's sisters, one would have thought that their partners would try to learn it.
I am so bad at this - I once again start the series in the middle!! But, it might have been for the best because meeting Eloise that way? Gold!
At the start of the book, the author warns us that she wrote the most grumpy character and OMG! It was the perfect Grumpy x Sunshine story I ve read in a LONG time.
Eloise is happy, and she let very few things spoil her mood. Losing a job? It's fine. Losing a job and getting dumb around Christmas? No time for a self pity party.
Gray is... grey. All the clouds follow him and he is very much struggling with his move to Chicago and the change of teams.
So when Eloise is hired to help him “acclimate “ and basically become more charming, sparks fly. But I loved how it translated in banter, and not sexy spicy scenes.
On the contrary, the story is not steamy but focusing more on personal growth, hokey and all the different jobs around the team. It made me think of Ted Lasso in a way and I really loved it.
Gray definitely grew on me and his backstory was gold.
Eloise was sooo fun and I loved how she build her confidence and finds herself as an adult.
Off to read Poppy's love story - and then I ll dive in Raya's. She is also a grumpy one and her and I need to have a little chat. She was waaaay too harsh on her sister Eloise!
A cute little story but a couple of red flags that could have been addressed!
At least Holly made me realised how grumpy I have been towards my husband lately and how he was taking it like a champ! She was sooo much in her head and sooo much spiralling, it got frustrating a bit.
I liked the settings, it would have been nice to see a bit more of the highlands.
A fast read and a cute romance
Like many readers, I mostly knew Holiday Ever After's author, Hannah Grace, for her hot and steamy campus romances—so this festive story came as a bit of a surprise. And honestly? I loved it.
The tone felt noticeably more mature than I expected. There are fewer spicy scenes, but the romantic tension is still very present—just expressed differently. The story leans more into the realities of adulthood: responsibilities, career pressures, and the sometimes messy process of figuring out where you belong in the world.
What really stood out to me, though, was the setting and the plot. The behind-the-scenes look at managing a PR crisis was surprisingly fascinating. Watching Clara try to navigate the doll scandal while attempting to stay true to her values made the story both entertaining and oddly insightful. It also highlighted how businesses operate—and how communities can come together to support one another when things go wrong.
Clara herself was such a lovely character. She's someone who genuinely wants to help and constantly tries to prove her worth. I really appreciated how invested she was in the town and in her family business, even while pursuing her own ambitions. Her growth—especially learning to set boundaries and stand up for herself—was one of my favorite parts of the story. No job (or relationship) should take advantage of you the way she was being used, and seeing her realize that felt satisfying.
Jack, on the other hand, was... perfect until he wasn't. Once he gets past his “corporate equals evil” mindset, he becomes incredibly attentive and supportive—until he remembers that Clara technically works for the enemy. His push-and-pull frustration could be annoying at times, but I appreciated that the town didn't blindly support his attitude. Watching him slowly learn to accept help—even from people he distrusts—added a nice layer to his character.
If you enjoy romance with rivals-to-lovers energy, small-town settings, and a bit of corporate drama, this one will likely work for you.
And honestly, I wouldn't mind returning to this world. I'd love to see more of Clara and her business ventures, but I'm also very curious about Tommy and Honnor. So... Hannah Grace, are we going back to Fraser Falls anytime soon?
I was not expecting to enjoy this book as much as I did. I went into it expecting epic battles, heroic moments, and perhaps a certain romanticism around vampires (I should admit I never read the back cover). Instead, I found a story about struggle, survival, and love.
The narrative structure surprised me the most. The entire book is essentially Gabriel telling his life story to Jean-François, who records it for us. At first, I was worried that this story-within-a-story format would quickly grow tiring, but Jay Kristoff's writing is so smooth and immersive that I remained deeply engaged—though the pacing occasionally slowed in places.
Gabriel is the last of the Silversaints, a vampire hunter now imprisoned by the very creatures he once fought. Execution awaits him, yet he is asked to recount how humanity lost its last hope. There is something almost cruel about forcing him to relive and document his failures, and I found myself questioning why this record is necessary—perhaps only so that we, the readers, can witness the story.
Jean-François, his jailer and our narrator, interrupts the tale from time to time to ask for clarification. In theory, he serves as a bridge between Gabriel and the reader, but in practice I sometimes found him frustrating. He asks questions on our behalf, yet oddly avoids the one I most wanted answered: who is Gabriel's mysterious nightly visitor? When that revelation finally comes, it arrives only when the story is ready for it, which makes Jean-François feel less like a meaningful character and more like a narrative device.
The worldbuilding was another highlight. The secret order of the Silversaints, the vampire armies, and a world where the sun never fully rises create a dark and compelling atmosphere. That said, I occasionally wished we could see more of how this eternal night affects ordinary people rather than simply hearing about it through Gabriel's recollections.
Gabriel often says, “Better a bastard than a fool.” And while he certainly is a bastard, I found him to be deeply thoughtful and surprisingly philosophical. It has been a long time since I annotated a book this much—Kristoff fills the story with reflections and sharp lines of wisdom that felt almost like dark little fortune cookies scattered throughout the narrative.
The ending also leaves us with a clear cliffhanger. We still don't learn how Gabriel ultimately lost humanity's salvation, and Jean-François hints that there is much more to the story yet to be told. It certainly makes me curious to pick up Empire of the Damned. But at the same time, I can't help wondering: will the next book remain another tale told by the fire, or will it finally become a story we live alongside Gabriel?
Not Gonna Lie... I was not expecting to enjoy this book this much!
This is a clever mix of science, environmental message, traditional way of life and personal anecdotes. It made me want to go on one of these camping trips with Robin Wall Kimmerer and see nature through her eyes - and I think she gets us there with her poetic story telling.
This book is not saying that we got it all wrong and are fully against nature. On the contrary, it is putting us human back in our eco system, reminding us that we should live in harmony with the plants and other beings surrounding us. That we should be more humble in front of them and learn from them.
As a young mum, this definitely made me want to teach my kids to be more grateful to the earth, more aware of the costs of our materialistic life and introduce a gift economy in our home - I know need to pass this wisdom to my husband to get him onboard.
If you're looking at way to improve your lifestyle, if you are wondering how to better connect with nature - I highly recommend this book.
I really enjoyed the plot and the setting—we dive deep into Japanese folklore, and the writer skillfully guides us through the names and their subtleties.
Miuko is a young woman trapped in a patriarchal, even misogynistic, society where she feels at odds with her expected role. When she is cursed by a Shaoha and banished from her home, she is desperate to find a cure... but perhaps she needed the curse to discover her true self.
The characters are incredibly endearing, and Geiki brings much-needed humor to an otherwise desperate situation. The book offers a sharp critique of society and its caste system, showing how such structures can lead to a country's downfall.
I loved following the hardships and adventures the characters faced. I found myself getting angry at the misogyny (how can the faults of men be blamed on their mothers or wives? Where is the accountability?), frustrated with Miuko for pushing people away, and cheering for her when she finally took initiative.
My favorite part? The monkey spirits. I would read an entire book just about NeiNei!
Frances Cha's If I Had Your Face is less a story about beauty than it is about survival within a system that treats women as interchangeable.
What struck me most was the quiet fury running beneath the surface. Women here are disposable — to employers, to clients, to partners, even to families. Even Miho, who might seem like the “exception,” is never fully safe: abandoned for being ordinary, later deemed too “common” to belong.
The multiple first-person perspectives deepen the experience. Each woman not only narrates her own life but reflects the others — longing for pieces of what they have while underestimating the cost. That shifting lens reveals how bonds form in unlikely ways, and how rare but powerful female allyship can be.
I especially appreciated how cosmetic surgery and beauty standards are portrayed not as vanity, but as infrastructure. Transformation is pragmatic. Necessary. Inevitable. The novel doesn't ask whether it's fair — it shows what happens when it isn't optional.
There is no dramatic reckoning, no grand empowerment arc. The women end the novel only slightly better positioned than before — still navigating the same system, but more aware, more connected, more deliberate in their choices.
The open ending frustrated me — but intentionally so. This is a story about movement, not closure. About endurance rather than victory.
Quietly hopeful. Deeply intimate. And unsettling in all the right ways.
Weyward by Emilia Hart is a haunting, lyrical story about three women across centuries—each fighting to reclaim her voice in a world built to silence her.
Altha, Violet, and Kate are bound by more than blood; they share a connection to nature, resilience, and the quiet defiance that carries them through betrayal and fear. Hart's prose is lush and immersive, weaving together witchcraft, womanhood, and the healing power of reclaiming your own story.
It's both magical and painfully human — a call to remember that freedom often begins in the smallest acts of courage.
A deeply moving, empowering read — one that lingers like the echo of wind through trees.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ / 5
Perfect for readers who love The Once and Future Witches or The Lost Apothecary.
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This was a fresh read! I thoroughly enjoyed this story, the mythology around seasons and the working of the temple, as well as the main plot and subplots. It was very interesting to follow Trine as she struggles with her ambition and thrives to resolve the mystery of the broken mirror. I liked how her flaws were called out by her friends, and how we have some morally-grey relationships.
It was almost a 5 star read, however the fact that we never go back to the Kridian creatures deeply frustrated me. I love folkloric details in a story, and they were helpful to Trine in her struggles, I would have loved to see her recognise them. The ending felt a bit too neat, too pink with a bow.
This is a reminder that we don't need to know everything to enjoy a story. I have enjoyed this book and series, however the conclusion still brings too many unknowns for me. What about Blue's nature? Can she “switch”? And does Noah find peace at the end? What about the Grey Man and the magical artefacts society?
Henry's sudden presence in the story also felt... out of the blue. We had four key characters, and he feels a bit like a fifth wheel.
But overall, this was a nice read, and Gansey's quest comes to an end with a somewhat satisfying plot.
This second book in The Raven Cycle shifts its focus to Ronan, whose ability to bring objects out of his dreams is both fascinating and terrifying. I loved how we learn more about his family and his relationship with his father's legacy—Ronan becomes more vulnerable and human in this installment. Gansey and Blue's quiet, growing bond adds warmth and poignancy, especially under the shadow of Gansey's foretold death.
Adam, on the other hand, tested my patience. His constant resistance to help makes him pitiful at times, though I do like the person he is slowly becoming. The Gray Man was an intriguing addition, and I enjoyed the continued Tarot and fate imagery, even if the “time is a cycle” philosophy confused me a bit.
Not everything landed—Kavinsky felt too overdrawn, and some odd, unsettling hints (like older women's potential interest in the boys) pulled me out of the story. But the atmosphere, the dream-magic, and the final cliffhanger ensure I'll be reaching for the next volume right away.
Not gonna lie, it was not the fastest read ever. The writing might be a bit too lyrical for my current mood and the chapters are... long. Yet, it was a very gripping book. I cried, I felt in every fibers of my body for Agnes, and I just wanted to know, to understand how she and her husband will go through their grief.
We know what is going to happen, but the event leading up to the tragic death of the child are interesting - mundane yet interesting. O'Farrell is very good at describing the ordinary and I loved her story telling. I also appreciated the family relations she built, and how all people are connecting and interacting with Agnes, who is for me the main character. Love how Shakespear's name was never mentioned in the full story.
I get that this is fiction, but this is now what I will think about when pondering on the origin of Hamlet, the play
J'ai lu ce livre à l'école et il m'avait bien marqué - Je me souviens y avoir comparer mon expérience en hôpital avec celle d'Oscar, et d'avoir espérer rencontrer Mamie-Rose.
Je viens de le relire, 15-20 ans plus tard. C'est toujours un coup de poing, sauf que cette fois-ci je m'identifie bien plus aux parents d'Oscar. Oscar est dur avec eux, et on comprend pourquoi, mais en tant que parent, est-ce que je pourrais faire mieux?
J'ai pleuré.
Un livre qui parle de maladie infantile avec une certaine légèreté et plein de sagesse.
