Elle

Usually, I most enjoy romance as a subplot if I enjoy it at all, but it was my favorite thing about The Witch Who Trades With Death. As someone who’s been through years of SA and has a lot of trauma, Khana isn’t ready to jump into a romantic relationship with anyone, and the kind and gentle understanding of Sava gave me butterflies in the way hot MMCs with muscles never do (though to be clear: I’m pretty sure Sava is hot as well). I loved Khana and Sava’s interactions, that they weren’t always flirty but I still knew that it was going somewhere. Khana’s inner turmoil was well-written and Sava’s willingness let her lead was sweet and endearing. When a Khana/Sava scene began, I was always excited.

I felt that while Khana’s friends/found family were a fun bunch, they were a bit one-dimensional. They had more personality when they started training for battle and then sort of faded into background characters that I couldn’t really tell apart. For example, when the unit first got together, one of them was grumpy and unfriendly. Once the unit bonded and everyone became friends, the grump was basically never grumpy again and I confused him with other members of the unit several times because his biggest character trait was gone now that he liked everyone. Most of the others were also defined by one or two simple traits: the married one who likes animals, the young shy one, etc., and I wish that as Khana’s besties who were integral to the story, they’d had a little more depth.

When I started the book, I didn’t realize there would be war and battle scenes. There’s quite a bit of them between training for battle and going to war with the emperor who forced Khana to be his concubine. I’m not a big fan of long battle scenes and luckily for me, Khana and her unit spent their downtime back home rather than at a camp or something, but I found myself less interested in the action scenes even though they did include some exciting moments.

The magic system, âji, was interesting. I like the idea of witches who draw life force from one living thing to transfer to another as a way to heal them, it’s very cool. I’m a bit torn on it though as there were other parts of the magic that were conveniently mentioned only when they were needed in the moment, like suddenly Khana could do something with the âji that she hadn’t brought up or done a single time before.

So while my overall enjoyment of the book was a bit lopsided, I think it would be a good match for anyone who likes a lot of tense fighting scenes on a grand(ish) scale alongside stories of found family and a bit of slow burn romance.

I received an ARC of this book from Angry Robot via Netgalley.

**Because The Rising is the second in a duology, there is vague mention of something from the first book in this review!**

The conclusion to The Branded Season duology surprised me. While the overall outcome wasn’t unexpected, The Rising still shocked me with several twists and revelations along the way, making it both gripping and entertaining. I enjoyed the story, though it did feel a little rushed, and there was a ton of well-described and exciting action.

I love the enemies-to-lovers trope, but as it was already done in The Branded, I was a little disappointed that Nara and Nixim’s relationship in The Rising felt a lot like a repeat of the first book. I was hoping the wrangler’s betrayal would come to a head and there would be some sort of solution a bit earlier, leaving plenty of room for the growth of their relationship, but that wasn’t the case. I did very much enjoy Nara’s interactions with new characters introduced though and found her relationship with Azza especially endearing.

This book mostly takes place in another city, where the Pure vs. Branded hierarchy and prejudices exist, but differently. It was interesting to see how another part of Nara’s world dealt with the aftermath of The Brume, and the ways in which witnessing these differences affected Nara, Osha, and Brim.

I’m a big fan of the overall messages behind The Branded Season duology and that through a great story, Jo Riccioni encourages her readers to think some big thoughts about some important subjects.

I received both an eARC (via Netgalley) and a physical copy of this book from the publisher, Angry Robot.

Holy crap. So, I am a big John Wiswell fan who will read literally anything he writes and did the happiest of happy dances when I was approved for the ARC of Wearing the Lion, but I promise to write a fair and balanced review. Mostly. Okay, I will try.

I liked the structure of the book, with a chapter split in two: one half from Herecles’ point of view and the other from Hera’s. It was interesting to see things from both perspectives, but it also made it so easy to see how similar they truly are as two lost souls having major identity crises and yearning for somewhere they belong.

I love how beautifully every character evolves throughout the story. Hera and Heracles obviously show a lot of growth as strong main characters but even secondary characters like Boar and Granny were out there learning and growing. Heracles is such a sweet, naive man I couldn’t help but root for throughout his years-long journey. And Hera! She’s such a deep and well-written character. I felt her pain, her struggles, her turmoil. Her constant scheming and interference are so much fun (no matter her motivation) and being inside her head was always a good time, though I have to admit she lost me a few times during her scheming. It could get pretty complicated!

Heracles’ found family was incredible and so unique. He finds acceptance with a ragtag pack of monsters (like, actual monsters, okay?), proving that home really is where the heart is. The LGBTQIA+ rep was an extremely welcome surprise as well.

Wearing the Lion has so much heart and a lot of humor to lighten the mood when things get serious. It’s similar to John Wiswell’s debut novel, Someone You Can Build a Nest In in a lot of ways, and though I’d say it’s not cozy in the way that one has been described, I think if you enjoyed one, you’ll likely enjoy the other just as much as I did.

Thank you DAW Books, from whom I received an ARC of this book via Netgalley.

I read this book in less than 24 hours and the only reason I didn’t finish it in one sitting is because my body unfortunately needs sleep (rude). The Only Way Up is Death so absolutely wild, I couldn’t stop, I had to keep reading. I read it while brushing my teeth, I read it while walking my dog. If you’re struggling to get out of a book slump, this is the book to get you out of it. If you’re not, this is the book to read anyway because it’s rad. It gets right into the action (of which there’s a ton) and as I mentioned before, it’s basically impossible not to keep turning the page.

It was easy to feel like a 14th person in the group of 13 confused people forced to climb the mysterious tower. No one knows what the hell is going on, so I was like, “hey, same,” and we all began the ascent together. And I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t… that. Sorry, no spoilers. You likely won’t be expecting it either but it’s all awesome.

Of the 13 people, there were some obvious main characters that were more finely developed. I loved Rakie and Earl, I despised Dirk (seriously, he is the worst and I just know people like him actually exist which makes me hate him more), and Nia was beautifully written and relatable, but I think I most closely related to Alden. As he ascended the tower, he came to some realizations about grief that hit pretty close to home for me and I found it comforting.

And I found more comfort in the book, which feels weird when I look back on it because I’d easily describe it as sometimes funny but mostly terrifying science fiction which doesn’t sound at all comforting. Between the violence, in-fighting, and general confusion, there were drops of commentary on humanity, the way we treat each other, and the things we value, as well as the importance of caring for and about the future regardless of whether or not we’ll be here to see it. I loved the inclusion of those themes and the ways in which they were perfectly woven into the story.

I’d been looking forward to reading this one for a while and am so happy I can now say I’ve read it and it lived up to my expectations and then some! Thank you so much to Angry Robot Books providing me with both an eARC and physical copy of the book.

Jenny Greenteeth doesn’t have green teeth, but she does have a lot of them, and they are very sharp. I didn’t think I’d ever encounter a super cozy morally grey character, but here we are.

The first 30% of Greenteeth felt like a nice, cozy fantasy. I found Jenny’s cluelessness about humans both funny and endearing and the addition of Brackus the goblin to the group provided some great banter. But once they set out on their quest, things went a little downhill for me.

Temperance, Brackus, and Jenny visited some amazing locations, but they had to walk to get to them and even with a bit of time skipping (for example “it took us a week to travel from A to Z”), it dragged. I’m quick to DNF when I’m not enjoying a book. I kept reading Greenteeth because I truly was invested in the plot and enjoyed the action (there was more than I expected!) but those stretches of travel made me wonder if I was making the right choice. I look longer than usual to finish the book because I had trouble feeling motivated to read through those parts.

Ultimately, I’m glad I persevered because apart from the travel, I did enjoy the book. I love the folklore, the fairy court, and the evolution of the relationships between Brackus, Jenny, and Temperance. Witnessing Jenny’s growth was especially fun, though I’m not gonna lie: I was a little disappointed at how quickly she outgrew her eager cluelessness from the first chapter. Overall a good read, even with what I felt was uneven pacing.

I received an ARC of Greenteeth from Orbit Books via Netgalley.

This is the kind of book that makes me wish I was better at describing beautiful writing. As I read, there were so many instances where I found myself highlighting lines that spoke not just to me but about life in general in such a perfect way, as if I was reading a book of proverbs. I genuinely can’t wait to see some of the popular highlights on Kindle once the book is released, and I usually ignore those.

I absolutely love how wildly inventive the world of Water Moon is. When Keishin stepped into Hana’s pawnshop, it was like Alice falling through the rabbit hole, but unlike Alice, wandering through Wonderland lost and alone, he had a guide in Hana. The places they visited and ways they moved through the world were always so fun and fascinating. Each location had it’s own special brand of wonder or whimsy, like the Museum of Education, which couldn’t be entered without a ticked purchased with a grain of time when you made a mistake, because its visitors learn from other people’s mistakes. As Kei and Hana traveled on their quest to find Hana’s father, I was invested for multiple reasons: I wanted to know where her father was, I wanted to see how Kei and Hana’s relationship evolved, and I couldn’t wait to see what Samantha Sotto Yambao would come up with next.

The romance between Kei and Hana is sweet, and at first I wished they had fallen just a little more slowly, but I can see why they were so easily drawn to each other. Hana had a lot of inner turmoil over her feelings for Kei having ground up in a world where people have no choice but to follow the path fate has set before them and that was central to a lot of her decisions not only when it came to Kei but throughout their entire journey. Which, by the way, I wasn’t expecting to be so dangerous! It was so exciting and a lot creepier than I thought it would be, and I loved that.

I received an arc of Water Moon from Random House/Del Rey via Netgalley.

Please allow me to share a timeless quote from a review of Emily Austin’s Interesting Facts About Space: “Emily Austin is a precious gem and all of her books are perfect.” Wow, what an amazing quote. What absolute genius wrote that? It was me. I wrote it.

This book is so. good. I needed to read it. Both in a “I’m a fan of Emily Austin, I need to read this” way and a “I need to read this for my soul” way, though I didn’t realize the latter until I was finished. It feels like reading someone’s diary (and I guess part of it is kind of reading someone’s diary) so it’s very raw and authentic. The strained relationship between Sigrid and her sister Margit is so interesting and even a little frustrating as the reader because you just know they could be great friends since they’re so alike. But they don’t realize it and it’s like… ahhhhh!

I don’t know how she does it, but Emily Austin creates characters that I always relate to in some way. There’s always something about them that calls out to me and says “I’m you and you’re me,” and then I laugh and cry the whole time because it’s true. This time, the thing that grabbed me most was Sigrid’s relationship with Greta. Everything about it screamed “this is your relationship with your own friend,” and it was lovely and heartbreaking and at times it was painful to read.

I’ve found that a part of me is healed every time I read one of Emily Austin’s books. I’m convinced that eventually, she’ll write enough of them that I’ll be completely cured. Can’t wait!

I received an ARC of this book from Atria via Netgalley.

I’ve always wanted to read two books at the exact same time. Who hasn’t? Nnedi Okorafor made that dream a reality with Death of the Author. It’s not just two stories in one, but a book within a book. And both of them are fantastic.

We have a book about Zelu, a disabled Nigerian-American author with a troubled life and loads of trauma who makes it big with Rusted Robots, a sci-fi book about robots. And then we have the sci-fi book about robots, which stars Ankara (who named herself after African Ankara fabric), a humanoid robot in future Nigeria who loves stories and hopes to save them from the AI that wishes to destroy them. There are a lot of parallels between each story and it was so fun to bounce back and forth between the two.

Zelu’s story was at the forefront though, and it covers 5+ years of her life as she writes Rusted Robots and deals with the aftermath of its publication. From dealing with the fame to lack of family support and navigating new relationships, Zelu really goes through it and I loved being there every step of the way, especially since she’s such a deep and interesting character. She’s brutally honest in a lot of ways, but I found myself wishing she’d use that honesty more often with her very large Nigerian family. They’re half Igbo, half Yoruba, which sometimes resulted in some conflicting traditions and customs. Zelu and her siblings are American too, so it was interesting to see how that influenced the way their Nigerian family treated them. There was so much Nigerian culture woven into Death of the Author, and I loved the glimpse into a world I’m not typically privy to.

Ankara’s story was also great. It was shorter, but it packed a punch all the same. The future she lives in is fascinating. I loved the evolution of her relationship with Ijele and the way the war affected her decisions.

This is one of my favorite sci-fi books in recent history. I’m completely in love with it and with Nnedi Okorafor’s writing. Before I even finished this one, I grabbed another of her books from the library. I’m so happy she’s written a bunch of stuff so I can read it all this year!

I had only read a few pages of All the Water In the World when I realized it was going to be an emotional read for me. It’s a devastating, inspiring, and all too realistic depiction of the effects of climate change on our world. Nonie’s story shows us that there’s always reason to hope, even after the world has ended.

The pacing is slow, which added to the tension and stress I felt as 13-year-old Nonie and her family struggled through the dangers of the world to make their way to a safe place. While there wasn’t a ton of action, there were a couple scenes that had my heart pounding out of my chest and though I could have torn through the book in a couple sittings, it took me longer than usual because I had to take breaks to sit with my thoughts (or distract myself from them).

As for the writing: fantastic. Because I have aphantasia, I always rely on authors to provide excellent descriptions and Eiren Caffall did a beautiful job painting a picture of a world ravaged by climate change. And I think the choice to tell the story through the eyes of a child was an excellent one.

I love that some chapters were flashbacks to Nonie’s time living at the museum with all the other survivors. Nonie was the only one among them who was too young to remember much about the time before the city was flooded and it was interesting to see how her experience differed from theirs. Honestly, everything was interesting. Even with the slow pacing, I was never bored.

Eiren Caffall doesn’t sugarcoat a possible disastrous future that awaits us and I can’t recommend All the Water In the World enough to anyone looking for a serious, thought-provoking read.

I received an ARC of this book from St. Martin’s Press via Netgalley.

I read Gogmagog very recently and felt confused here and there, I think because it was my first real dive into weird fantasy. Well, now that I’ve read this book, the second in the duology, I feel like the first gave me the training and experience I needed to understand this subgenre. Ludluda wasn’t written any differently, but I had a much easier time with it and it gave me an even greater appreciation for Gogmagog.

Ludluda started up just where Gogmagog left off and I love when that happens. As it’s a sequel, I don’t want to touch too much on plot, but I was pleasantly surprised with the direction it took. Though Cady is the main character, I expected most of the focus to be on Brin because Gogmagog ended with a Brin-centered event. Instead, we got full focus on Cady, and the book was more about her quest(s), which did ultimately include Brin and others, but not as I thought. I don’t know if that even makes sense, but the important thing to understand is that I really loved the way it was done and I’m glad the duology was actually about Cady’s experiences instead being a story about Brin witnessed by Cady. And not only that, but Cady’s story went places I would never have guessed. I think this duology has caused me to think “how did they think of this?” more than any other book I’ve read.

Speaking of Cady: once again, her curmudgeonly personality shines bright, and her interactions with everyone around her had me either laughing or loving that she’s actually a bit of a softie when it’s deserved. Now that I’m finished with these books, I’m really going to miss the old girl.

The story’s conclusion was satisfying mostly because I had no idea where it was going and had no expectations whatsoever, and I loved the very end.

Thanks very much to both Angry Robot Books ARC of this book.

With Not For the Faint of Heart, Lex Croucher has firmly cemented themself as my favorite rom-com author. I was pleased to find that this book has the same sweet and adorable slow burn I enjoyed so much when reading Gwen & Art Are Not in Love, as well as a cast of characters that are all so lovable, I can’t choose a favorite.

Main characters Clem and Mariel have traumatic family histories that had a strong hand in shaping them into who they are as young adults. Clem is free-spirited, fun, and silly (she reminded me a lot of a less ditzy Miss Bickle, my favorite character from Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall!) with a passion for helping anyone who needs it. Mariel has an extremely tough exterior, trouble showing her emotions, a strong sense of justice. They have a black cat/golden retriever thing going on with excellent and extremely entertaining banter. The supporting characters (fantastic LGBTQIA+ rep, btw) are all lovely. I have an especially soft spot for Morgan, but I grew attached to everyone and did not want to say goodbye at the end of the book.

The plot itself is sooo good, so much fun. Mariel is Robin Hood’s granddaughter so the timing isn’t too far removed from the formation of the Merry Men and Lex Croucher’s evolution of their story is really interesting. It’s pretty much nonstop adventure from beginning to end, with a twist that made me gasp (which made the man sitting near me in the library laugh) and an event that made me cry (while still in the library).

If you enjoyed Gwen & Art Are Not in Love, there’s no reason you won’t like Not For the Faint of Heart. You’ll also like it if you enjoy LGBTQIA+ (specifically sapphic) slow burn romance, and/or adventures in the vein of Robin Hood!

Thank you so much to St. Martin’s Press and Netgalley, from whom I received an ARC of Not For the Faint of Heart.

I love Gemma Amor’s writing. Her descriptions are so on point, it’s easy to feel like you’re right there. And I especially liked the way Morgan was written. She’s a complicated character who has been through something extremely traumatic and has all sorts of conflicting feelings about it. The way she treated her father was realistic and everything she felt was laid bare, even when she had horrible thoughts. I appreciated that, as I feel that a lot of times, the main character of a story doesn’t have enough realistic flaws or negative thoughts in order to keep them as likable as possible, but I prefer a character that feels more true to life.

I enjoyed the setup of the mystery and the arrival of the stranger was truly unnerving. I have to admit that I didn’t like the ending at first as I felt it was too confusing. But I read through bits of it a second time and found that while I was still a little confused by a couple things, I liked it more than I did originally. Sometimes, even if I don’t get all the answers I want, the writing and the premise are just too good, and that’s the case for me with The Folly.

I’d like to thank both Datura Books and Netgalley, from whom I received an ARC of this book.

I finished this book five days ago. I loved it so much that I made myself wait to write this review just to make sure I was no longer deliriously high on it and could write something that was 1) intelligible and 2) not so overwhelmingly positive that I seemed a bit out of control. But now that I’ve healed from the book hangover (the likes of which I have only seen once before), it’s still a 10/10, I have no notes, and I think I’m about to cry right now because thinking about how much I love this book makes me really emotional. Sooo, I’ve failed.

Sorcery and Small Magics is a big magical book about forgiving yourself and finding your place in the world. I easily fell in love with the main characters, Grimm and Leo, and I can’t pick a favorite but I have to say that Leo seems like he’d be so much fun. Maybe a little exhausting sometimes, but very fun. The idea of two characters that are complete opposites with more in common than they think isn’t new, but it’s done so well here that it felt fresh to me.

And the magic system! Okay. We have sorcerers, right? But they’re split into two types: scrivers and casters. Scrivers come up with and write the spells on paper. Casters take the paper and cast the spells. They must work together to create the magic. It’s an excellent system, it’s interesting and well defined, and also: Grimm is a caster, Leo is a scriver, they hate each other, and THEY HAVE TO WORK TOGETHER. Yes, it’s a common trope, no, it doesn’t feel common. It feels amazing, because witnessing the slow evolution of Grimm and Leo’s relationship from rivals to reluctant allies through forced proximity is like watching a beautiful sunrise. It takes time, but it’s never stagnant as there are tiny changes happening constantly.

I don’t have the ability to visualize but the world of Sorcery and Small Magics is so believable and feels so real that I could almost see it. When Grimm and Leo had to journey together in search of a counterspell, the woods they traveled through were full of danger, and I could nearly see it all, which is an extremely rare experience for me and the mark of fantastic writing. I had a thought that I’d love to watch a movie adaptation, but those are always disappointing, so I changed my mind. Who am I kidding though? It couldn’t possibly be as good as the book, but I’d still watch it and probably love it because Sorcery and Small Magics might be my personality now.

I’m so glad this book is the first in a trilogy because I need more. It’s charming, whimsical, and funny (both haha and hehe). I cried (three times) while reading and when I finished, I yelled “AHHHHHHH!” and then cried again because I was upset it was over. The only reason I haven’t preordered a copy is because I’m waiting to find out if I can get a ride to the book launch/author talk so I can meet Maiga Doocy and get a signed copy in person (and if I can’t, I will probably cry for a fifth time, just saying).

I will be more than eagerly and less than patiently awaiting the next book!

Thank you so much to both Netgalley and Orbit Books, from whom I received an ARC of Sorcery and Small Magics. I’m almost sorry I love the book so much because I’ve seen people say they don’t trust overwhelmingly positive 5 star ARC reviews. But not sorry enough to lie 🤷🏻‍♀️

I’ve been following @purr.in.ink on Instagram since 2019 and I’m a big fan of Luis Coelho’s work. When I saw The Book of Purrs on Net Galley, I pounced on it (like a cat!) without hesitation.

The Book of Purrs features nearly 100 short comics. Some have been shared on Instagram in the past while others are brand new, and all of them are extremely cute. I’ve always loved how ‘paw-sitive’ and encouraging the kitties are, and that definitely extends to the book. There’s a fair bit of variety in the content of the comics with very little repetition. A lot of the comics are motivational, with messages about healing, self-love, and acceptance. Many of them are silly and fun. A couple of them made me emotional.

Of course, the art is phenomenal. If you’re not familiar with Luis Coelho’s work, you should absolutely head over to @purr.in.ink and check out the art you can expect to find in The Book of Purrs. Look at his reels too, because he’s shared videos of the way he draws each cat and it is beyond impressive.

In a letter to the reader at the beginning, Coelho explains that he hopes we will pick up the book and open it to a random page whenever we need a message from a friendly cat. Because I had a digital ARC, I couldn’t easily read it that way, but I think reading it the way Coelho suggests, instead of from start to finish, would be perfect.

I’d like to thank both Net Galley and Andrew’s McMeel Publishing, from whom I received an ARC of The Book of Purrs.

***PLEASE NOTE: There are two versions of this book. One version was self-published several years ago. The second version has been rewritten and published in October of 2024 as a prequel to S.T. Gibson’s Evocation. Reviews posted before the latter half of 2024 are most definitely of the first version of the book, which isn’t even available anymore. Please consider giving the new version a try, especially if you’re a fan of Evocation, as many of the complaints old reviewers have are not present in the new version of this book.***

I cannot begin to explain how excited I was to receive this ARC from Netgalley and Angry Robot Books after how much I loved Evocation. It was so nice to be able to spend some bonus time with these characters during what feels like the longest wait everrrr for the next book in The Summoner’s Circle series!

There’s an event involving David, Rhys, and Moira that took place before the start of Evocation that is alluded to but not exactly explained. Whatever happened, it caused a major rift in Rhys and David’s friendship, so we know it was something big, and in this prequel, we finally get some answers.

While it was certainly an important and dangerous event, and I’m happy that I now understand what happened, I was a little disappointed in the reasoning behind Rhys and David’s falling out. The two men weren’t besties or anything, but Rhys considered David a friend at the start of the book, and the point where he changed his mind felt very lackluster to me. I was expecting something much worse. But I’m sort of torn on whether or not it’s bad thing that I got less than I expected. It actually feels pretty believable that a friendship would end over something so silly.

This novella gives us more than an answer to the Rhys/David friendship question, though. I loved the glimpse into Rhys and Moira’s life before the events of Evocation, when their relationship was extremely new and was very pleasantly surprised to find that S.T. Gibson included the story of how they met, which I thought was very cute and fun.

There’s also some beautiful art throughout the book I had to stop to really take in and stare at before moving on. It was really lovely and totally unexpected - I had no idea there would be any illustrations!

Odd Spirits reads a bit differently from Evocation in that it kind of feels like reading a parable. There’s a clear moral to the story that ties it all up rather nicely. It can certainly be read before Evocation, but personally, I really enjoyed reading the prequel and having questions answered afterward. If you want to go into Evocation knowing everything, read prequel first. If you like a bit of mystery, read Evocation first.

The Ravening is a horror/thriller, and while aspects of both genres were present throughout, it felt less like a mix than a 50/50 split. The first half of the book was heavy thriller, with an adult Jenna trying to escape a house where she is being held against her will for nefarious reasons, then the horror really amped up in the second half as Jenna fought an ancient evil for control of her body (and not in the way you might be thinking). It was a pretty cool shift from “Oh no, the bad guys are these people!” to “Oh dear god, this is also terrifying in a crazy supernatural way!”

As a main character, Jenna felt a bit one-note. She has (with good reason!) a very hard time trusting people and opening herself up to love, and while I’d expect that to be mentioned a fair bit, it’s really the only deep thing we learn about her. The story is told in third person from her POV and she has a lot of conversations with her inner voice, which, when it responds, calls her ‘babe,’ and it drove me crazy. A ‘babe’ here and there would have been okay, but almost every time her inner voice said anything, it threw a ‘babe’ in there. I think it’s because Jenna sometimes thought the inner voice sounded like her girlfriend, Holly, who calls her ‘babe,’ but even so, it was just too much. Otherwise, Jenna was easy to sympathize with and root for, and I formed some pretty strong feelings for a couple other characters too. Like big time hatred! But I was supposed to hate the people I hated, so it was a good hatred.

The story is interesting with a unique premise. I’ve never come across anything like it and I enjoyed it. I want to talk about some specific bits but when I consider the blurb, I feel like anything I say could be a spoiler. There were some excerpts from old texts inserted between chapters throughout the book that gave vague information about the ancient evil, allowing the reader to piece things together, but as soon as you read the final excerpt, everything is explained by someone anyway. We’re given the same explanation, but less vague, as if the author doesn’t trust the reader to have figured it out. So the excerpts feel sort of purposeless. My favorite part of the book was the dreamlike sequences that reminded me a lot of some fantasy I’ve read and I think horror fans who are also fantasy readers would enjoy those scenes as much as I did. I wasn’t expecting such a strong fantasy feel but I liked it!

Thank you to both Netgalley and Angry Robot Books, from whom I received an ARC of The Ravening.

I think Johnny Compton and I are psychically linked and he knows what I like: gruesome and violent AF horror, super unique vampires, and a straight up cult. I also love a book that gives me room to form my own theories about what’s going on, and Devils Kill Devils did that from the start, then opened up a little and gave me more room for even more outlandish theories, which is so much fun.

I did find myself a little bored during Harrah’s early chapters and a tiny bit lost during Cela’s early chapters, but their later chapters were just as good as the rest and I loved the stark difference in prose between each character’s POV. The way they spoke, thought, acted… it was always obvious which character the story was following because the writing actually changed very organically. And oh my god the foreshadowing drove me crazy in the very best way, like I knew something was being alluded to and I wanted to know what it was SO BADLY. In a couple spots, I had to stop myself from skimming, not because I was bored or didn’t want to read it but because I was so desperate to know what was going to happen.

I liked most of the characters and that stories of their pasts were included to give context to their actions and motivations (especially The Northman). Sarita is a great main character and she has a lot of strengths but one of my favorite things about her is that she isn’t your standard Chosen One. I like the idea that a Chosen One isn’t necessarily more special than anyone else, that it’s more like “well, someone had to be chosen,” and happenstance is what gives the Chosen One their power.

The author’s note at the end was really cool - I always love when authors include information about their inspiration and influences. It’s very interesting. Don’t skip it!

Thank you NetGalley and Tor Nightfire for the ARC of Devils Kill Devils.

Brom is one of my favorite horror authors, in part because his stories are just that good, but also because I love that he writes horror with heart. Evil in Me is no different, and it’s also an exploration of emotional turmoil.

Even before her possession, Ruby felt out of control of her own life. Beel, the demon possessing Ruby, is only doing so because he’s controlled by a more powerful demon. Control is an extremely prevalent theme as even side characters have suffered due to circumstances beyond their control, or circumstances they believe to be beyond their control. It’s easy to relate to Ruby as she struggles not just in the fight for her soul, but the fight for her power, the control she lost long before the ring found its way into her life.

As always, Brom created a fun cast of characters for Evil in Me. I loved Vutto, as I expect most people will (I’m serious – I expect you to like him and if you don’t, we can’t be friends), and everyone needs a friend like Tina. The book has major “roadtrip with a punk rock band of weirdos” vibes, which makes it really fun for a horror novel. There were high stakes, but aside from one scene, I didn’t feel particularly tense. This one definitely had more of a fun, lighthearted feel.

The narration of the audiobook was honestly amazing. Stephanie Németh-Parker voiced most of it and I loved how she laughed, scoffed, sang, etc. along with Ruby, instead of just telling us Ruby was doing it. I’ve never listened to an audiobook with a narrator that consistently added those types of emotions into their narration. Shahjehan Khan also did a great job with Richard’s narration. You can really hear Richard’s confidence in the beginning and how the events of the book affect him in his voice. But the narration itself isn’t the only thing to rave about because there is MUSIC. Ruby has to write a song and when she performs it, an actual band, The Maxines, performs it on the audiobook. It is the bee’s knees, as Richard would say. I love audiobooks that include more than just a simple reading of the book, so this one really checked off a lot of boxes for me.

The print version of Evil in Me has nearly two dozen illustrations and I’ve seen enough of of them (and Brom’s art in general) to know they are not to be missed, so I recommend listening while reading if possible for an immersive experience with both music and illustrations. Best of both worlds!

Thanks very much to both NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, from whom I received an ALC of Evil in Me.

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Datura Books, from whom I received an ARC of Negative Girl.

I really liked the distinct neo-noir style of writing in this crime thriller. Every other chapter switches between the first-person POV of Martin and his assistant Valerie, and I like a good dual POV story, but these two characters are so alike that they don’t each feel like their own person. Their voices are too similar and I often found myself glancing back or checking the last page for a clue as to whose chapter I was reading.

Everyone in the book is either in a band, used to be in a band, plays an instrument, and/or is super into music, which is cool, but Martin and Valerie both talk about music and name drop a lot of bands and songs to the point that it felt like a bit too much.

The plot was a little predictable but enjoyable, and I loved the relationship between Martin and Valerie. As mentioned before, they’re very alike so they ultimately have a lot in common, including similar toxic situations with old friends. Their friendship, however, was lovely even when it was rocky. It was nice to read a book with a purely platonic male/female best friendship, where they loved and took care of each other but there were no underlying sexual motivations or tension.

I didn’t love Mr. Caesar in Mortal Follies but I was still happy for the chance to get to know him as the main character Confounding Oaths. Unfortunately I’m still not his biggest fan, but even he openly admits to being a shit, so perhaps I have the right idea.

Mr. Caesar isn’t the only carryover from Mortal Follies. Several characters from the first book make an appearance, including my favorite: Miss Bickle. She’s just as ridiculous as ever, with the added bonus of having become an author of Jane Austen fanfic. Alexis Hall—excuse me, the fairy hobgoblin narrator—seems to only tell queer stories, which I both love and respect, but it really is a shame that Miss Bickle is decidedly straight because I’d really love to be told a story in which she is the main character. Fingers crossed she’s a part of the queer community after all!

As for the story, I liked that it wasn’t strictly about Mr. Caesar saving his sister Mary, but also about Mary herself. She has a full-fledged character arc that is extremely relatable and reads a bit like a fairytale. Meanwhile, unlike Mortal Follies, Mr. Caesar’s romantic relationship with the captain isn’t front and center as much as it is in the background. Saving Mary is more important and all the crazy magical hijinks are distracting. I think it works for this book because I really liked Mary and for me personally, the romance between Mr. Caesar and Captain James wasn’t as captivating as the romance in the first book.

And so, my favorite hobgoblin narrator once again did a fantastic job of observing a great story, being 100% reliable, and making me laugh. I truly can’t believe Oberon hasn’t forgiven him yet, but I’m selfishly glad because he all but promised he has more stories for us and if he were to return to Oberon’s court, he would no longer have need to publish any more books.

Confounding Oaths could probably be read as a standalone, but there are enough characters from and callbacks to Mortal Follies that I highly suggest reading it first. It’s also a fantastic book, so it’s worth it!

I’d like to thank NetGalley and Random House / Del Ray from whom I received an ARC of Confounding Oaths.

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Hachette Audio, from whom I received an ALC of Long Live Evil.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first but once I gave in and embraced the camp, I had a really good time with Long Live Evil. I love the concept of the book and the idea that entering a story can change its plot. It’s a lot like the idea that if you travel to the past, you can’t change a single thing or the future will veer wildly off track. Rae’s presence in the book and the decisions she made changed the future of every character, and it was a lot of fun to see if those changes were for better or worse.

This is Sarah Rees Brennan’s first adult novel but the writing and especially Rae’s dialogue read to me like YA. I actually struggled to like Rae very much. At first I thought it was because of her childish dialogue and obsession with her new body’s boobs, and while that didn’t help, I think my main issue was that her insistence that none of the characters were real made it hard for me to care about anything, including her. By reminding so many times that no one was real, she was also reminding me that she isn’t real. She was telling me not to care for her either, and I decided to go ahead and listen.

Despite Rae’s best efforts, I found most characters interesting and each had a lot of depth. My favorite character, Key, is one of the first that Rae meets when she wakes up in the world of this story and he’s fascinating. I’m not much for book boyfriends but I might make an exception for Key.

I listened to the audiobook, narrated by Moira Quirk. That’s right, Mo from Nickelodeon GUTS narrated this audiobook. God, I’ve always wanted a piece of The Crag. Anyway, sometimes it seemed like she was reading parts of conversations too quickly, faster than the person speaking would actually say them, but for the most part I enjoyed her narration and I think she did the voices of the many characters very well.

Despite the few issues I had, Long Live Evil was ultimately a satisfying read. The ending left me wanting more so I’ll definitely be reading the next book!

I feel genuinely sorry for anyone who skips prologues and happens to read Mortal Follies. The book’s prologue provides an important introduction to our narrator, a hobgoblin who has been cast from Oberon’s court. Not only is he an amazing storyteller, worthy of Oberon’s forgiveness, but he’s extremely funny, and I was already laughing before chapter one began.

The way the Mortal Follies was written—excuse me, told by a hobgoblin, it reads a bit like an Austen novel but with magic. There are curses, old gods, sacrifices, witches, and there may or may not be kelpies.

The narrator wasn’t the only reason Mortal Follies was funny. I was laughing the whole way through, at the narration, the hijinks of the characters and the situations they found themselves in, and, well, Miss Bickle. Miss Mitchelmore’s best friend, Lysistrata Bickle, is an absolute delight and I will fight anyone who tries to harm a hair on her head. She’s a great friend and though she’s more than a bit naive, she’s quirky in all the best ways. She needs her own book about her adventures. I can’t decide if I wanted a friend like Miss Bickle, or I wanted to be a friend like Miss Bickle. The answer is both. I want both.

One of my favorite bits of the book was Miss Mitchelmore’s character arc. The ways in which she changes from the beginning of the story, when she’s a prim and proper young lady of high society who finds that she’s been cursed, to the end of the story when, well, she’s in love with a woman and shit is seriously going down… it’s impressive.

I loved that the story was told by this hobgoblin, who added in his own thoughts and opinions as events unfolded. By doing that, he became a character in his own right, and I really enjoyed getting to know him. I look forward to hearing his next story, Confounding Oaths (which, let’s be real, I’m going to start reading as soon as I’m done writing this 😂).

What if the famous underground railroad wasn’t just a series of underground tunnels, but an actual underground railroad, with stations and trains on tracks? Colson Whitehead answers that question in The Underground Railroad.

Cora is a victim of or at least a witness to every possible atrocity committed against her fellow slaves on the Randall plantation where she grew up and it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Colson is not afraid to slap his readers in the face with very real details of America’s terrible history and it’s very hard to read. I was already crying by the end of the first part, which is 8 pages long.

Although it elicited a lot of emotion from me, the writing itself is very matter-of-fact and unemotional, which felt a little jarring at first, but soon came to feel like a nod to how powerless Cora and the other slaves were. Every horrible thing that happened was just a fact of life, and they had to remove themselves from it without dwelling on it or allowing themselves to feel those painful emotions. Even after her escape, Cora often felt powerless, unable to be herself, unable to embrace any of her true emotions. I think the writing reflected that perfectly.

However, there were some jumps in time here and there that were really confusing for me as there was a severe lack of cohesive transition between flashbacks and the now. Sometimes it was a couple weeks ago, sometimes it was right now, sometimes it was suddenly a month later, and I often had no idea which it was until I read quite a bit and figured it out for myself.

I loved Cora and I loved the premise, but the erratic timeline and the incredibly abrupt ending unfortunately hindered my overall enjoyment of the book. The ending is really the thing that messed with me the most. I can’t figure out why it ended so suddenly!

Still, I’d recommend The Underground Railroad to basically everyone ever. It’s an important story that highlights a part of American history that too many people ignore but shouldn’t be forgotten, and it is absolutely worth the read.

I discovered a love of Cozy Sci-Fi/Fantasy in March when I read another indie with my little chaotic readalong group (The Crossing by Laurie Janey). I’ve been passively looking for another book in that genre since then and was excited to find this one. It’s very cozy, but also very heartfelt and emotional.

Our main character, August, lives a lonely, unsatisfying life, and when she decides to make some changes, we get to come along for the ride. I instantly connected with August and it was a joy to see her making connections of her own. Her issues with her mother reminded me of my own issues with my father and I may have shed some tears as she reflected on their relationship. Yeah, I definitely shed some tears. Luscombe’s letter to the reader at the end of the book made me cry again, btw. I was kind of a mess there at the end. But a good mess.

I like to highlight lines in a book that I resonate with so deeply I could have written them myself, or they feel like they were written to or about me, and I was highlighting this one all over the place. So many things spoke to me in a way many books do not and it felt really good, like being given a hug by someone who truly understands how I feel.

If you’re anyone, you should give this book a read. But if you’re feeling or have ever felt burned out, stuck, or unseen, you might find a bit of yourself in August and especially enjoy Moon Soul.

When I was about a quarter of the way through Scythe, I was telling my boyfriend about it and he said “If the Thunderhead (the AI that knows all and has solved all of humanity’s problems, thus allowing them to live in a utopia) is all-knowing and capable of so much, why can it solve every problem except over-population? It doesn’t make sense.” And that was it. Before he asked the question, I was perfectly willing to accept that Scythes were necessary, but after? I couldn’t make sense of it. Why couldn’t the Thunderhead solve over-population? It solved world hunger. It solved death! I know that without the Scythes, there wouldn’t have been a book, so I moved on (mostly), but I thought about it every once in a while as I read and I do wish there was a better explanation for their existence.

Anyway… I liked the main characters, though I feel Citra didn’t have as much development as Rowan. They both struggled with being Scythe apprentices, but Rowan dealt with a lot more strife and moral dilemmas. I found his sections more interesting and exciting, and going through all of that with him made me like him more. Side characters were interesting as well, and even the “villains” weren’t necessarily villains depending on who you are and what you believe.

I loved the way the Scythes each had their own method of gleaning people. It made for some interesting thought about how I would glean if I was a Scythe. I found it funny that in a utopia without government, they still ended up with the untouchable Scythes, who made their own rules and felt very much like a corrupt government, furthering the idea that corruption is inescapable.

I wasn’t expecting the book to be as twisty as it was, maybe because it had quite the slow start and didn’t get into twists until pretty late in the book, but they were fun and exciting. I love the way it ended, I think it was perfect and it made me really excited for the next book. I expect Thunderhead (the title of the next book) to be more fast-paced because I think Shusterman had to take some time setting up the series and explaining how the world works with Scythe, which slowed it down a bit. We’ll see!