Tim
A weirdly slow-paced but never boring descent into claustrophobia, manipulation and survival. The pacing feels like the cave itself: lulling, strange, disorienting, like a dream you can't quite wake up from. It's not scary, but it is tense in a quiet, eerie way.
The dynamic between Gyre and Em is fascinating in a deeply unhealthy way. You never fully root for either of them, they're both hard to like, and not the deepest characters, but their power shifts are compelling. It felt more like a psychological standoff than a survival story, with a bit of romance trauma bonding shoved in sideways.
The worldbuilding is decent enough to picture the setting, but not enough to ever really fear it. The tunnelers felt oddly tacked on, while “the dead” added just the right amount of messed up mental mystery. The final sections definitely lift the whole experience as everything starts going wrong and confusing.
It won't be for everyone, it's a slow burn with characters you may not even like, but I'd still recommend it for fans of introspective sci-fi, unhealthy dynamics, and tightly-contained weirdness.
Read as a “blind date with a book” from Waterstones, and honestly? It lived up to the mysterious pitch.
On the surface, it's gentle and dreamy, like watching clouds through a filter made of melancholy. But underneath, it's deeply sad and unsettling in a way that never quite says the thing, just gestures at it.
Klara's perception of the world, where everything is broken into “boxes” and logic is derived from observation not instruction, was fascinating. It's floaty, fragmented, and slightly off in a way that perfectly matches her being solar-powered and emotionally naïve.
The moment she begs the sun to heal Josie, that was tough. You feel her pure intent, but it's also a cosmic-level misunderstanding of what it means to love and to hope and what the sun does and can do. Her unwavering optimism is painful by the end. She's essentially abandoned, treated like a tool, and yet still full of reverence and peace.
There are no big reveals or dramatic arcs, but it sticks with you. The tone is the message: love, loss, naivety, manipulation, grief, disconnection and the ache of permanence in a world built on change.
Read it. But don't read about it. Go in blind
The Eye of the Bedlam Bride is the best in the series so far. Which is wild, considering how ridiculously high the bar already was. Matt has outdone himself. Again.
This one hits different. The humour still lands like a warhammer to the funnybone, but the emotional weight? It's growing. Heavier. Like an inevitability is closing in, and you can feel it through every page. It's the kind of dread you know is coming, but you're powerless to stop it.
Pacing is still perfect. Somehow not boring or samey, somehow still fresh. The T'gee card mechanic (part Yu-Gi-Oh, part Pokémon, part “what the hell is happening”) was an absolute highlight.
Standouts?
- Raul needing a baby seal to “arrive” and release his micro crabs into the sea. It was everything I love about this series: disgusting, hilarious, disturbing. Iconic.
- The final fight? INSANE.
- Carl vs. the hydra? Really starts to drive the sad nail home
- And the big sad moment just before that? Crushing.
- Katia's becoming more layered. She's cracking a little, and I love it. But I hate it too, she's great, but she's struggling.
- Donut? This might be her biggest emotional growth yet. But I'm worried about her. She's showing little breaks. And I don't trust the System not to exploit that.
- Carl is holding himself together with magical duct tape and rage. Still mentally spiralling, still worried about losing humanity, still refusing to break. It's tragic and beautiful.
- Ren's arc wrecked me.
- Psamathe. More, please. She's been so good in this book. Although maybe too many “Nussy” references.
There's not a single thing I'd change. Matt Dinniman, you twisted genius, you've done it again
Sigh We (my 8 year old son and I)got through Letters from an Alien Schoolboy, but it was a slog.
It tries so hard to be silly, but misses the mark. Not clever-silly, not Monty Python nonsense, just “let's name an alien place Wibblyflobbleftambottom” and hope kids laugh. Spoiler: they don't.
The story? Flimsy. Barely engaging. There's an attempt at jokes, but none land. The only thing that even vaguely got a smile was the alien sister being called Farteeta (yes, fart-eater).
Atticus liked it enough to sit through it, but never seemed properly into it. I think he was just being polite while I suffered through reading it out loud. It's clunky, poorly written, and honestly had a few sexist stereotypes that aged like milk.
Shared reading? Painful. Atticus couldn't make sense of it solo, so it fell to me. The literal highlight was a couple of optical illusion pictures you flip upside down. Which says a lot.
Would I read more of the series? Absolutely not.
Final verdict?
- 1/5 from me
- 2.5-3/5from Atticus, because kids are more forgiving than grumpy dads.
Not the worst thing ever, but pretty far down the “please no more” list.
Annihilation is a total “what the fuck did I just read” kind of book—in a really good way.
It's dreamlike, floaty, unsettling. VanderMeer's writing is introspective and detached, like reading someone else's memories while underwater. Giant chapters, very few solid answers, absolutely all vibes.
What stuck? The tower (which isn't a tower), the lighthouse (eerie and heavy with metaphor), and the CRAWLER (or... whatever the hell it is). The reed monster was creepy, and the dolphin? Might've been her husband. Honestly, that's just Tuesday in Area X.
It's not scary in the traditional sense—but maybe that's the point. The biologist has changed, and fear doesn't work the same. Everyone else in the expedition breaks down while she just drifts deeper into the weird.
Did I get answers? Barely. But the mystery itself was satisfying—even if I finished it still unsure what reality is. (Again, maybe that's the point.)
Will I read the rest? Yeah, eventually. But I'm not sprinting back into the shimmer just yet. I need to sit in the moss a little longer.
Holy hell.
The Butcher's Masquerade is my favourite entry in the series so far—and not because it's the biggest or craziest (although it is), but because it's where the tone finally cracks wide open. Winning doesn't mean surviving. Winning doesn't mean saving everyone. Winning just means dragging yourself forward with more scars.
This book gets dark—not in a “gritty for the sake of it” way, but in a “the weight of this world is finally breaking them” way.
Carl and Donut are still standing, but you can see the cracks now. Friends are dying. The AI is breaking. And the Game is getting crueler, steering everything toward friend-on-friend betrayal.
Standouts?
The fight with Vrah—Carl literally (and I mean literally) lighting her crotch on fire, healing it, then doing it again, was gross, hilarious, and incre ibly satisfying. Enthusiastic Double Ghonnerrah, you magnificent bastard.
Signet's arc. Heartbreaking, noble, perfect. She deserved more books, but what a sendoff.
Floor 7 shenanigans—clearing a floor in five minutes after the chaos of Floor 6? Perfect. Prepotente, you crazy goat, never change.
Pacing? Brilliant. There wasn't a single drag. Every moment mattered.
(Also, shoutout to whatever clown left a 2-star review saying there's a 200-page novel hidden in this 800 page mess. That person must've been hit with the Dumbass Debuff +50.)
Deaths hit harder this time. Except for Vrah and her mum. Fuck those two. Good riddance.
Carl and Donut? Stronger than ever, but you can feel the damage stacking. Poor Donut's been through it—and somehow she's even more loveable for it.
Final verdict: 4.75/5.
An absolute banger. Dark, emotional, hilarious, and violent as hell.
Taking a short palate cleanser with Annihilation by Jeff VanDermeer before diving back into the Dungeon. Because honestly?I need a minute.And maybe a nap.
Race to Echoes Edge picks up right where Imagination Island left off—and while it doesn't have that “whoa, what is this magical madness?” spark of the first book, it still absolutely delivers the fun.
My son and I both enjoyed it a lot. The chapters are still short, the pacing's great for a shared read, and the story feels like it's grown with the characters. You start learning more about them, which gives the story a bit more weight—even if it's still more marshmallow than rollercoaster.
Standouts?
- The Time Lion was a hit.
- The imagination-based mascot challenge was very cool.
- And the scene where Luca almost gets stuck in a slowed-down time loop was probably the closest the book got to actual peril—heavier than usual, but still very accessible for younger readers.
really nice adventure
A Clockwork Orange
Rating:
- 3.5/5 from me—not as fresh-feeling as the first, but still totally worthwhile.
- 5/5 from Atticus, obviously. He's already counting the days ‘til Book 3 drops in January 2026.
A Clockwork Orange – A Bezoomny Masterpiece with Krovvy on Its Hands and Poetry in Its Bones
What in the actual fuck. That's how it started. That's how it ended. And somehow, that's exactly what made it brilliant. A Clockwork Orange isn't a book you read. It's a book that happens to you.
The ending? A strange left turn that somehow feels totally right. A real horrorshow finale. It doesn't tie a neat bow—it leaves you in a moral fog, clutching your skull and whispering, “Was that... good? Am I good?”
Alex is a monster. A murderer, rapist, sadistic little bastard—but he's also just a kid. That dichotomy? That's the meat of the book. He's charming, intelligent, disgusting, hypnotic. You want to hate him—but you're trapped in his goloss and maybe you even miss him when he starts to change.
The language? By the end I was reading it out loud like it was Shakespeare from the underworld. Nadsat stops being alien—it becomes the only way this story could be told. It's not just slang, it's soul.
The classical music, the ultraviolence, the existential musings—it all hits like a punch wrapped in silk. Pure beauty paired with absolute brutality. Yin and yang, horrorshow and grace.
What stuck with me most? The feel. This book doesn't just tell a story—it radiates a feeling. An atmosphere. You can smell it, hear it, taste it. The world Alex lives in is bleak, surreal, and real enough to scare the piss out of you.
There's nothing I didn't like—because everything that made me uncomfortable is what proves it's a masterpiece.
Would I recommend it? Absolutely. But no warnings will prepare you. Just dive in and let the tide of bezoomny wash over your innocent little gulliver.
So... this was my first proper dip into the spicy sci-fi smut pool, and I gotta say—it took a minute to adjust to the temperature. At first, the extreme contrast between the almost sweet love story and the incredibly detailed alien “extracurriculars” felt jarring. Like, I came for the story and stayed because... I was too weirdly curious to stop?
The actual plot? Surprisingly decent.
Think sci-fi Beauty and the Beast but if the Beast was into weird bondage and the castle was on wheels. Emery (our human lead) is tough, likeable, and easy to root for. Mako, the male lead, is kind of a raging space dick (in both senses). But he softens slightly—like a chainsaw that occasionally uses its safety. You get the sense he's a product of his gross alien culture rather than straight-up evil, which makes him complex... even if he remains pretty punchable.
The spice? Oh, it's there. At first it's all “ooh this is steamy”, but then it keeps going. And going. Until it gets to a point where it's less sexy and more “is everyone okay?” There's a heavy non-consensual undertone throughout, and while that's clearly part of the genre's edgier kink niche, it made me uncomfortable at points.
The fact that it's written by a woman helps it not read like a sweaty basement fantasy, but still—it's a lot.
Also, can we talk about the word used for her bits? You know the one. It dropped like a crowbar in a pillow fort. I'm not shy about language, but that one was like, “whoa, okay—bold choice in this context.” Cringe or genius? Who knows.
On the plus side: JI the mech was cool as hell and deserved more page time. Also, despite Mako being a relentless over-the-top angry alien sex tyrant, I sort of liked how unapologetically weird he was.
Would I read more? Probably not. I'm glad I tried it, but I think I've scratched that particular itch (again, no innuendo intended... or is it?).
Rating-wise?
- Entertainment value: 3/5.
- Literary merit: somewhere between “eh” and “oh no.”
- Alien dick creativity: 10/10, unfortunately.
3/5
sci-fi world-building with plot-relevant smut, Stockholm syndrome, and a mech named JI
Angel Trouble (Demon Mart #3) – Angels, Ghosts, and Demonic Shenanigans... Doing It
D.M. Guay has officially outdone herself—Angel Trouble is the best in the Demon Mart series so far. My current ranking? #3, then #1, then #2. That's right. Third time's the charm. Or curse. Or very confused celestial STD.
At first, the story feels like it's doing that Demon Mart thing where everything's just delightfully unhinged chaos—but then bam, all those little threads suddenly twist into a single, ridiculous-yet-heartfelt rope and drag you straight into the emotional deep end. By the end, you're laughing, clutching your chest, and wondering if the Employee Manual would have a chapter on coping with angel-on-reaper romance.
Standout moments? Easy.
An angel and a grim reaper, gettin' it on.
A demon and a ghost, also gettin' it on.
Kevin being peak Kevin, which is to say: a smug little shit who is somehow still everyone's favourite (especially mine).
Character-wise, the gang is thriving in their weird, wonderful ways:
DeeDee is slowly becoming the warm, terrifying glue holding this cursed family together.
Lloyd is still an anxious gremlin, but he tries so hard in this one, and it pays off. He even gets a genuine hero moment—still second place to his sacred Employee Manual, but hey, growth.
Kevin? Top-tier cockroach energy.
Morty, Bubba, and Faust are still doing their best (or worst) and I wouldn't change a thing.
The tone? Still chaos, still comedy, but now with a big ol' emotional weight behind it. At this point in the series, you care—which means every moment of peril hits harder. I was genuinely worried about them. My dumbass celestial retail friends.
No real downsides. Maybe one complaint: not enough DeeDee thirst-trap descriptions. But that's probably just Lloyd whispering through my subconscious.
Final rating: 4.5/5 – easily the most rounded and emotionally satisfying Demon Mart book so far. I'm diving back into Dungeon Crawler Carl for now, but [Re] Possessed? Oh, it's waiting on my shelf like a cursed amulet at a yard sale.
A fun Adventure (Or 600/5, According to my son)
Reading Race to Imagination Island with mynson was honestly a total joy. We both really enjoyed it—he absolutely loved it, and I could see why. It's packed with big ideas, wild creatures (those snot monsters were a hit), and just enough chaos to keep a kid's imagination firing long after the last page.
The story is super engaging—easy to follow but not dumbed down. It trusts young readers to keep up, and when things get weird (on purpose), it kicks off brilliant little conversations. We had plenty of those.
The format was perfect for bedtime reading: short chapters that gave us a real sense of progress whether we were reading to him or letting him take the reins. The pacing felt just right. It's also a sneaky underdog story, which hit me in the feels more than I expected.
Illustrations were sparse but well-placed—just enough to spark some cool little moments between us. And clearly it landed, because we're already lined up to start the next in the series.
From my side, it's a solid 4/5 for being fun, imaginative, and a genuinely lovely read-together book.
From Atticus? “600 out of 5.”
Can't argue with that.
Dungeon Crawler Carl: Book 4 – Feral Gods, Ferocious Vibes, and Fuckin' Feels
Look, I knew I was gonna like it, but I didn't expect this book to emotionally shank me while I was still recovering from laughing at an AI being weirdly horny about a rice cooker. The Gate of the Feral Gods is thicc—a big boy of a book—but every damn page earns its keep.
This is the best one yet, no question. While previous entries were all about the madcap mayhem (still very much present, don't worry), Book 4 adds layers. We're talking crawlers starting to break, actual deep thoughts about peace, and some NPC awakenings that hit harder than expected. Like, oh no I'm feeling things kind of hit. And yet...
“GODDAMMIT DONUT.” Still never gets old. That dynamic? Chef's kiss. Somehow Carl and Donut are even better this time around, which is wild considering they were already carrying the whole damn series on their snarky, blood-soaked backs.
Mordecai is still a grumpy little bastard. The AI? Creepier, funnier, and more likely to need to be deleted from your browser history. There are moments where I laughed out loud like a maniac and others where I just sat back and whispered, “holy shit, this is actually really good storytelling.“
Pacing-wise, the first half is a well-crafted slow burn with story and emotion. Then the second half kicks the doors off the hinges and unleashes CHAOS MODE.
Only reason this doesn't get a full 5/5 is because I'm emotionally damaged and can't commit to perfection. So: 4.75/5 – one of the best entries in a series that was already punching way above its weight class.
I'm currently pacing myself with Mal Goes to War because if I burn through these too fast, I'll have nothing left but sadness and memes. But holy shit, I'm counting the days ‘til Book 5.
Heavy, Hypnotic, but Worth the Effort
Well, that was a dense read. Not in a bad way—just in a “this author knows exactly what words to use, and sometimes my brain needed a second to catch up” kind of way. Alien Clay isn't a book you fly through; it's one you wrestle with a bit. But once it clicks? It's fantastic.
The world-building is next-level. Kiln, the alien planet, is so vividly described that I can still picture it in my mind's eye. Somehow, Adrian Tchaikovsky manages to make something utterly alien feel understandable without drowning the reader in exposition. And Arton, the lead character, is fascinating—not just because of what he does, but because of the way we get to see his internal struggles unfold alongside the physical.
Speaking of standout moments: the Awakening. I won't spoil it, but that whole section was just chef's kiss sci-fi. The book balances feeling fresh while still being in conversation with other works (Children of Time comes to mind). It's different enough to stand on its own, but if you liked CoT, you'll probably get on with this too.
That said, the first 20% was rough. I even turned to my payment at one point and said, I'm not sure I want to keep going. And I get it—Kiln is so alien a world that the book needs time to teach you how to understand it. But once it does, it pays off.
The ending? Satisfying, though not as bleak as I half-expected (which honestly might've fit better). But it leaves space for a sequel, and you know what? I'd be there for it.
Final verdict: 4/5 – a challenging but deeply rewarding read. If you're patient with the setup, it delivers.
Probably my favourite of the series so far. Great setting, really complex, but explained without having to understand a thing.
Great growth with the characters, bringing up stuff from the first and second books. Some genuinely laugh out loud bits, and just starting to get a little serious in areas too.
The constant battle with the Orc Prince is hilarious and I am dying to see what the videos are really like that they've had made of him, Carl and the crew.
Really sets up nicely for the next book when they get out there and KILL KILL KILL
Not for me.
Incredibly old school views, some which came across... Very racist.
This is now the book I use to benchmark other sci-fi books against. It's absolutely phenomenal in all respects.
I adore Rik. Everything he's done.
But it's so hard to read this, as it's in his tone of voice without any narrative direction.
One final prank from Mr Mayal to me I guess.
Such an incredible addition to the Alien universe. It manages to tie up some bits in Covenant that people don't like without ever referencing it at all.
The even better bit is the Aliens aren't the most disgustingly evil part in the book.
A little slow burner that fires up to an amazing place. Would LOVE to see this as a film, simply so I can experience it again for the first time in a different way
Moved to the digital version as I didn't have time to listen