Elle

I’ve read plenty of books about hauntings, and some of them involved children, but to actually read one from the child’s point of view is absolutely next level. Adults being haunted can make their own decisions but 8-year-old Bela was not only at the mercy of the haunting, she was at the mercy of her parents and whatever decisions they made. As a child, she’s completely powerless. Remembering and sitting with that feeling while reading made Incidents Around the House so much scarier for me.

Of all the books I’ve read that were written from the perspective of a child (but meant for an older audience) a couple have worked, but most haven’t. This one is definitely the most well done of them all.

Malerman does an amazing job of making the reader truly feel like they’re being told a story by a little girl. The writing is a little disjointed, but not distractingly so. When she uses a word a typical 8 year old may not know, Bela explains that Mommy or Daddo taught it to her. When we need more adult information, it’s told through a memory Bela has, or a conversation some adults have in front of her. Bela never knows more than she should or feels way too smart for her age, but her narration does still serve as a great reminder that kids can pick up on things and are smarter than most people give them credit for.

I think Incidents Around the House is the best of the horror I’ve read this year. It’s super unique and certainly among my favorites!

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Levine Querido, from whom I received an ARC of Markless. These opinions are my own.

I don’t read a lot of young adult books (they can be a little hit or miss for me), but sometimes I read a blurb and I don’t care if I’m the target audience or not – I’m definitely reading that book. I felt that way with Markless and I’m glad I gave it a chance because I enjoyed it quite a bit!

I don’t read a lot of fantasy with major romance plots (Romantasy? Is this romantasy?) but I do love the enemies to lovers trope and when it’s sapphic? Yes please! I also really like what Malburi did with the soulmates trope in Markless. I admit I haven’t read a whole lot of romance with the soulmates trope, so I’m not sure if what was done here is common or not, but I thought it was nice that it explored the idea that choosing your own soulmate is always a possibility.

The main character, Ruti, was so well-written. Not only did I love her, but I could easily feel whatever emotion she was feeling. If she was confused, so was I. Whether she was upbeat or distressed, I was too. The evolution of her relationship with Princess Dekala felt very natural, which I appreciated. Speaking of Dekala, she was… an enigma, but an intriguing one. My favorite thing about her was that she was so hard to pin down. Sometimes it was frustrating, but hey, I was only frustrated when Ruti was frustrated, so it was perfect!

I did feel that the magic system was a little confusing. As soon as I thought I had a decent understanding of it, something new was introduced that threw me for a loop. I don’t think I ever quite understood the limits of the world’s magic.

My only other issue was that towards the end of the book, there was a part that felt to me like the oft frowned upon “and then I woke up” moment used in some media. It wasn’t that, but it gave me a similar feeling, and I was disappointed. But the ending itself was great. It made up for some of that disappointment and left me feeling happy with the book overall.

I like to explore all the different versions of the vampire trope and Liz Kerin gave us a really cool one in Night’s Edge. Mia’s mom Izzy isn’t exactly a vampire though, she’s a sara. Exploring the similarities and differences between saras and vampires and learning about Saratov Syndrome was really cool, but I didn’t expect all the heartbreak that came with everything else.

Izzy became a sara when Mia was just 10 years old, which left Mia beyond traumatized, but she had no time to deal with it as she was immediately thrust into adulthood long before her time. My heart absolutely ached for Mia, and for my own younger self, as I deeply related to her severe parentification. I felt so much anger on Mia’s behalf every time she had to make a sacrifice, keep another secret, hold herself back, pretend everything was okay. Man… yeah… this book gave me a lot of feelings and they were definitely not about the things I was expecting 😅 I can’t wait to dive into the sequel and feel the feelings that one gives me.

I listened to the audiobook, narrated by actor Chase Sui Wonders. I didn’t know it was Wonders until after I finished the book but I thought it was pretty cool. I really liked her in HBO’s Genera+ion. She did an excellent job, the narration was full of emotion. I’d recommend the audio over other formats for sure. But… the book is on Kindle Unlimited!

I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of multiverses and the infinite ways things could have been different depending upon not only my choices but the choices of others and the various circumstances of my life. I’ll Miss Myself explores that idea in a fresh and incredibly interesting way that had me absolutely hooked from the first paragraph.

While there were some bits that made me laugh, this story is a serious one. Shaw’s struggle with depression and the way he hid it from himself (and his selves) was really relatable. I must have highlighted the majority of this short story for how much I resonated with it. A lot of it really spoke to me and it was an excellent reminder that I’m never alone, even if I only have myself.

I can’t say I’m surprised by how much I enjoyed this one after reading Someone You Can Build A Nest In (it’s one of my absolute favorite books), but now that I’ve read more by John Wiswell, I can say he’s on my list of favorite authors.

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Datura Books, from whom I received an ARC of Honeycomb for review.

I’ve been on a bit of a fantasy kick lately, but when I saw the blurb for Honeycomb, I knew I had to read it ASAP. It was such a fun, fast-paced thriller, one one disturbing enough be horror too, or at least border on it.

I spent the first half of my time with it doing some detective work, trying to figure out if the six drug trial participants had been lied to by the doctor running experiment, if the drug was working as intended, wondering how far the doctor would truly let things go, hoping Amanda could find someone to trust, you know, normal stuff. But the second half of my time with the book was basically just me thinking “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

I appreciated that while the story centered on Amanda and her experience, we were also given glimpses into both the points of view and pasts of the other five participants of the drug trial. I liked that Claude, Arthur, Wish, Sherry, and Justin were all deeper than just nobody side-characters put there to give Amanda a hard time. I also found it really interesting how each of them responded to the drug trial in their own way. I thought their behavior would more or less be identical and I’m convinced the differences made the whole book even better.

It must be said, though I can’t explain: Honeycomb is the perfect name for the drug (and this book). Once you read it, you’ll know why!

I’ve discovered some incredible books and authors through Netgalley but I had no idea when I requested an ALC of The West Passage, a dark fantasy novel with a somewhat cryptic blurb, from Netgalley and Macmillan Audio that I’d found The One, but I have. I’ve found my favorite book of all time.

In The West Passage, we follow Kew and Pell on their individual journeys as they do what they feel is necessary to save their home from a terrible beast. But the story isn’t just about Kew and Pell, it’s about the massive sprawling palace grounds in which they live and travel through, a world with deep lore and rich history, some of which is too long-forgotten by its inhabitants. While on their journeys through this dangerous world, Kew and Pell meet plenty of interesting and quirky characters, and though the book is pretty dark, it reminded me a lot of both Alice in Wonderland and The Phantom Tollbooth. I got whimsical vibes and felt sort of nostalgic for those stories when listening to this one.

I was constantly impressed by Jared Pechaček’s immersive world building, beautifully descriptive writing, and immense creativity. His writing made me feel like he has actually been there and is simply describing everything for us, like he’s a historian of the palace. As if it didn’t come from his mind and it exists somewhere and he’s just telling us about it. Pechaček has written a textbook, and I listened to the audio but now I want a copy to highlight, make flashcards to study, memorize and learn the entirely too interesting history of this world as if it’s a real place.

I took my time listening to The West Passage on audiobook over the last week because there has never been a book I’ve wanted to savor more fully than this one. When I listen to audiobook, I always do other things, but I just sat and listened this time. I had to and wanted to focus on The West Passage because I felt like I was participating in this book, this event, and I didn’t want to participate in anything else. Though I did start out feeling as if the physical or ebook version might be a better choice, Steve West’s narration made me feel like I was a child being read a bit of a grand fantasy before bed, and I loved it. There are many, many characters in this story and West was able to change his voice wonderfully for each one. I especially liked the voices he did in a scene where there were 8 different frogs. If I can tell 8 frogs apart, that’s a damn good narrator.

If you cannot tell, I am absolutely obsessed with this book. It’s my Holy Grail. It’s my precious. Want to be sucked into a world that feels as though it will continue to live and breathe even after you turn the last page? This is the one.

Key Lime Sky’s blend of sci-fi, mystery, and autistic representation truly made for a compelling and refreshing read. This is my favorite kind of sci-fi, soft and cozy rather than hard, easy to get into and understand. And the importance of acceptance, understanding, and self-discovery are beautifully woven throughout a story that is honestly kind of alarming at times (it is about an alien invasion, after all)!

Denver is both autistic and nonbinary (xe goes by any pronouns but mentions that xe prefers xe/xem [which I don’t see in books very often!] so I’ll use those – I’ve never used them before and I looked it up but please forgive any mistakes and feel free to correct me). Xe is such a well-crafted character. I love xyr sense of humor and I can only dream of being as good at writing reviews as xe is. Xyr autism isn’t the most important part of xem, but it’s an important aspect of Denver’s life, so it’s a big part of the book. Al Hess is autistic himself, so I know and appreciate that Denver’s autistic traits are portrayed with both accuracy and sensitivity.

As for the plot itself: hell. yeah. I love a good alien invasion and Al Hess did a fantastic job setting the scene for unique story with a resolution I absolutely did not see coming. Alien invasions are serious business and it could be quite tense at times, so the different kind of tension we get from Denver and Ezra’s budding romantic relationship is extra welcome. I also liked that Denver isn’t the only one to struggle with acceptance, as Ezra and the other townspeople also have pasts and insecurities they have to work through.

I knew I’d like Key Lime Sky when I read the blurb, but I loved it even more than I expected I would and I was really happy to read a good book with an autistic character that feels realistic, instead of just a caricature, as it’s essential to have more stories like this that showcase diverse experiences in an appropriate way and promote empathy and understanding. Just a little advice though: when you read this book, make sure you have some pie handy, because Denver is going to make you want some.

I love Someone You Can Build a Nest In. It’s not just a new favorite book, it’s my favorite love story of all time. All. Time. And I will never stop recommending it to everyone who makes eye contact with me.

I’ve seen this book categorized as both horror and dark fantasy but it does feel like horror to me. Horror-romance. Hormance? It’s similar to the cozy horror of Rachel Harrison, and I love her, so it really comes as no surprise that Someone You Can Build a Nest In is my jam, but I wasn’t expecting to fall in so deeply in love with it. I wasn’t expecting the true and beautiful LGBTQIA love (I believe at least Shesheshen is asexual, maybe Homily too but it’s not explicitly stated so I’m not positive and either way they’re both female), plus-size rep, unforgettable and ridiculously lovable characters, and an engrossing story full of action and emotion.

Shesheshen is one of the most interesting characters I’ve read in a long time. The rules of her monster body and how it worked were fascinating and her confusion over human behavior but ability to understand the most important things was strangely relatable. I love her so much, I didn’t want the book to end.

This was a library borrow, like most of my books (because lol money haha) but I am really looking forward to buying a copy at some point!

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Macmillan Audio, from whom I received an ALC of Honey (from Celadon Books) for review. These opinions are my own.

You can’t read the synopsis of Honey without thinking of Britney Spears. I was a young teenager when she became a household name. I wasn’t even a fan (I wasn’t allowed to listen to her music 😂), but I remember the constant rumors about her and the grown men on news channels arguing over whether or not she’d had a boob job and speculating on the status of her virginity. I remember how weird it made me feel about my own body, my own sexuality, and my own right to privacy when it came to those things.

Honey touches on those topics and more through the eyes of Amber Young, a teen pop star, as she rises from mediocrity to the kind of fame she’s always dreamed of. Although most of us have never been pop stars, many of us have been over-sexualized, treated like we are just our bodies, and it’s easy to relate to the way Amber feels when she’s treated that way by men. Part of me wishes Isabel Banta had gone a little deeper when it comes to the concepts of misogyny and exploitation in the music industry. There were instances of these things throughout the book, but it felt like they were just stated as facts rather than truly explored. But either way, I’m glad that the 90’s pop star experience wasn’t completely glossed over and glamorized.

While Amber deals with the disgusting problematic behavior of the men around her (and society in general), she also deals with a lot of internal struggle, including her desperate need to feel loved, and I imagine readers will relate to that very strongly. I enjoyed Amber’s journey and I like that the book covered the entirety of it. The inclusion of Amber’s friend and fellow pop star Gwen’s journey as well, though we didn’t get to see as much of it, was an excellent choice.

Of course, I want to talk about the audiobook, which was fantastic. Honey is written in first-person from Amber’s POV and the narrator, Brittany Pressley, either has the perfect voice or used the perfect voice for Amber. The lyrics to a few of Amber’s singles are in the book, and one of my favorite things about the audiobook is that when Pressley read the lyrics, there was pop music playing in the background. The music was different for each song and was really cool! It added so much to the listening experience, and to the book as a whole. I was fully immersed, even bobbing my head to the music a little. Because of this, I’m fully convinced the audio version is the best way to read Honey.

I usually start writing a review immediately after I finish a book, but I had to wait a bit after finishing Elegy for the Undead because I was crying too much. Matthew Vesely did an amazing job at portraying such raw emotion, I felt it so hard!

I’m not a fan of zombie media but the premise of Elegy for the Undead really gripped me and I’m glad I gave it a chance because it took the zombie trope in a direction I enjoyed much more than I typically do. The chapters jump back and forth between Lyle and Jude’s POV and from before the outbreak, during the outbreak, and after the outbreak, so we get a really clear picture of Lyle and Jude’s relationship.

The book isn’t really about zombies, it’s about Lyle and Jude – how they met, how they deal with difficulties within their relationship, and how they cope with Lyle’s ‘zombie’ diagnosis. Their love is a beautiful example of how messy, imperfect, and wonderful love can be.

I listened to the audiobook (by the way, I was unable to find either the ebook or audiobook through my local library, but it’s available through the Queer Liberation Library!), narrated by Daniel Henning and Charlie Thurston. Both Henning and Thurston did a great job with the narration. No complaints here!

I’d absolutely recommend this one even to people who aren’t huge fans of zombie stuff because at its core, Elegy for the Undead is a love story that illustrates how meaningful even a tragic love can be.

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Angry Robot Books, from whom I received an ARC of The Branded. These opinions are my own.

I finished The Branded a few days ago and while I loved it, I’ve been dreading writing this review because there’s so much I want to say and I can’t say it all. I’m going to have to leave some things out and that’s going to be very difficult.

Here we go: I enjoyed the writing and loved every character. We get the most of Nara, as the book is written from her point of view. She can be a bit prickly but she’s got some of that feminine rage I love to see and she’s easy to root for. The world-building is well-done, with a great balance between fantastical elements and believability. There’s some romance, but I wouldn’t say the book is romantasy as it’s more of a side thing.

I love speculative fiction and The Branded speculates in spades. From the control and use of women as breeders to the segregation of the Pure and the Branded, which creates a thought-provoking commentary on societal hierarchies, discrimination, and the value placed on health and strength, the book provides a whole lot to think about in addition to a fantastic adventure.

This book gave me such a hangover. I couldn’t even touch a book the day after I finished it because I simply hadn’t had enough time to process everything yet. The Isfalki women, pampered like princesses so they don’t realize they are just breeding machines expected to pop out a baby a year until they’re no longer able to do so. Nara’s resistance to this way of life and longing to be something more than some random Pure man’s property. The disturbing twist that completely rocked me and highlighted the deep corruption of the leaders of Isfalk. The mysterious motivations of the Wrangler…

There’s a second book, so of course there are a whole lot of unanswered questions I’m looking forward to having answered next year!

I’d like to thank both Net Galley and Angry Robot Books, from whom I received an ARC of The Hunter’s Gambit. These opinions are my own.

I love the concept of The Hunter’s Gambit. The vampires are exactly as I imagine vampires would be. They live a life of opulence and they are truly vicious. Their annual mock coronation highlights their cruelty and disregard for human life and that aspect of the story is well-done and very effectively conveys the vampires’ callous nature.

I liked Kazan and was invested in her character, but I wish we had a better understanding of why she lies. I wanted to understand her better and I think the book could have benefited from a deeper exploration of her relationship with lying. At one point, she agrees to something, then changes her mind and apologizes for lying. But that wasn’t a deliberate attempt to deceive and I’d like to understand why she saw it as a lie. Otherwise, I loved how tenacious Kazan was and her defiance of the vampires and will to live in the face of incredible danger was admirable.

Adrius has a compelling backstory and his status among the vampires adds depth to his character, but I feel Reya could have been a little more developed, though I loved that she was a bit morally gray.

There was a spice scene that was several pages long but wasn’t as explicit as I thought it would be (because vampires are known for their debauchery) and personally, I liked that. It really worked for the story though and one of my favorite parts was that there was a question of consent/preferences before things got too hot and heavy.

Despite a couple personal issues I had the book, there are still aspects that resonated with me and made the story enjoyable, and I think complex world-building really makes The Hunter’s Gambit stand out.

I did the thing. I read a Freida McFadden book. I wanted to see what the big deal was and I had a migraine yesterday so I decided to start one of her audiobooks. I chose this one because even though the subject matter is uh, beyond messed up and super gross, it’s something that interests me as a past student of a less than trustworthy teacher as well as on a “for science” level.

I can definitely see how these books are considered page-turners, and the audiobook made it even better because Leslie Howard did a great job, especially with Addie’s chapters.

The Teacher didn’t feel especially suspenseful as I pretty much knew where it was going (aside from the epilogue, which I did not see coming and I can see why some people don’t like it though I can’t decide where I stand), but it’s one of those thrillers you can just have a quick, fun time with.

I’m not saying it’s bad, but it’s almost on par with something you like because it’s so bad it’s good. Again, not saying it’s one of those things, it just kind of gave me that guilty pleasure feeling I get from those things, and that feels good sometimes!

EDIT: omg I just read a review that talked about the epilogue and pointed out some EXTREMELY odd things about it that I can’t get over and now I am laughing so hard like wtf how did she even write that epilogue? My only excuse for not realizing sooner is that my brain was completely melted from my migraine. I 100% understand why it ruined the book for so many people it’s so hilarious like please read this book just to be mad at the epilogue it will kill you. I’m dead.

I think my favorite thing about My Darling Dreadful Thing is the overall idea. If I just read an outline of the concept with the biggest plot points and the ending, I’d love it. So basically I’d love a synopsis, I guess.

Agnes and Wilemijn felt very one-dimensional, and even Roos, the MC, didn’t feel fully developed to me. We got more information about her than anyone else, and it was easier to understand her and relate to or sympathize with her because of that, but it’s still not enough as I think it could have been. I felt bad for Roos because of her upbringing and her life experiences, but I also found her kind of annoying and it was hard to get past that.

Every couple chapters, there’s a short transcript of an interview between Roos and a doctor that takes place after the events of the book. The interviews make it clear that Roos is an unreliable narrator, and I did enjoy that aspect quite a bit.

I did love Ruth, and that Johanna van Veen took inspiration from bog bodies to explain her origins and why there aren’t a ton of spirits wandering around everywhere. Ruth’s fierce overprotection of and loyalty towards Roos was creepy, but kind of in a sweet way, considering the lack of affection Roos had all her life. I loved the descriptions of the way Ruth possessed Roos and used her body for various tasks, like performing the séances.

The writing in general was great, in first person from Roos’ perspective (with the exception of the interview transcriptions). The story takes place in the 50s but Roos uses somewhat antiquated language which is both lovely and a bit haunting. There’s some descriptive language in My Darling Dreadful Thing which paints a beautiful picture I truly wish I could see. For those who can visualize, I bet something wonderful can be found in the descriptions of the house Roos is brought to live.

Aside from a few character complaints, I feel like this is a book I should have loved, but I when I ask myself if I liked it and attempt to answer the question simply, my answer is “it was okay.”

Even though it’s not something I’d typically choose for myself, I had so much fun reading this book with my book besties (highly recommend getting yourself a set of those if you haven’t any) and I’m looking forward to reading the next one with them in September!

I liked the idea of bringing Camelot and the story of King Arthur’s Court into it a bit as I love retellings/reimaginings of tales I am even only somewhat already familiar with. The enemies-to-lovers trope wasn’t done exactly to my liking as I was more annoyed by Raphael and Nia’s constant misunderstandings that could have been easily avoided. There was another common trope I won’t spoil that I did like! I don’t read many spicy books and I used this one to confirm I’m not the biggest fan of M/F spice (especially when their attraction doesn’t have a whole lot of depth – it was extremely shallow for most of the book and even once Nia expressed attraction beyond the physical, there wasn’t much said), so I won’t comment on that other than to say that I think it was probably well done if you like it. I also have to say that I will never, in life or in death, forget how muscular Raphael is.

There were a few details that didn’t make a lot of sense when I thought about it and the last chapter was a bit rushed but when I just let it go and went with the flow, it was an enjoyable experience and I expect I’ll have a similar time with the next book.

One of my favorite things to wonder is what a random person from the distant past would think of today’s world. If plucked from their time and dropped into ours, what would they think of electricity, internet, modern medicine? What about smaller stuff, like the way we talk, current fashion, and, depending on when exactly they’re from, how long everyone lives? It’s a fascinating thing to think about. And now I have a new thing to wonder: What on earth gave Kaliane Bradley the right to take this concept and break my heart with it!?

The Ministry of Time is a great example of a book whos author knows exactly what they’re doing. Kaliane Bradley has researched the time periods of her characters so well that they feel completely real and alive (and in the case of Graham Gore, he actually was alive in the 1800s as a member of the Royal Navy and an explorer, though very little is known about his life other than that). They jump off the page and say “Look at me! I’m from the past and I’m amazed by your world!” This is especially the case with Margaret, a woman from the 1600s, which we all know is a time when women weren’t treated very well. Margaret absolutely thrives in the 21st century, taking great interest in feminism, crop tops, and the freedom she never saw or even dreamed of in her life before time travel. I loved reading about her adventures and how she took to modern life with such gusto.

The romance between the MC and Graham is an extremely slow burn and I enjoyed every minute of it. Between the MC’s ‘modern-day woman’ views and Graham’s ‘man from the 1800s’ behaviors, they had some incredible, laugh out loud banter. Their relationship is complicated, but sweet, and I love that their romance isn’t the main focus. As the daughter of a woman from Cambodia, our MC is half british, half Cambodian, and she experiences thinly-veiled racism and xenophobia on a regular basis. As she shares her experiences, there are parallels between her story and that of Graham’s who, as an ‘expat’ (as they call the time-travelers), is something of a migrant himself, though he has come from the past rather than another country, which I found very interesting.

Although there was a part towards the end of the book that felt a little cliché, I am overall very happy with The Ministry of Time and I loved the ending. I’d easily recommend this one to anyone who loves speculative fiction, slow burn romance, or the concept of bringing people forth from the past to see what the heck they’d think of the future.

I’d like to thank Netgalley and Gillian Flynn Books, from whom I received an ARC of the audiobook. All opinions are my own.

I wasn’t sure about the Kittentits audiobook when I started it because to be perfectly honest, I didn’t like the narrator. I kept listening anyway because sometimes narrators grow on me, and I’m glad I did because Stephanie Willing really worked for Kittentits. I especially loved her voice for Jeanie, as she did a great job of bringing out Jeanie’s casual indifference and annoyance towards Molly.

Holly Wilson found a really great balance of writing in the tone of a child but with the style of an adult. Kittentits felt a lot like reading the diary of a 10-year-old girl. It’s written in first-person, and Molly sounds very much like a child, but it doesn’t feel like reading a children’s book.

There’s some offensive language used throughout Kittentits but in my opinion, there are two different kinds of authors when it comes to offensive material. Those that use it just for shock value, and those that use it because it’s an accurate representation of their character’s behavior and the setting. Holly Wilson doesn’t use offensive language just because she wants to shock people. In 1992, Molly uses these words because she’s a kid who thinks it’s badass. She also knows her dad doesn’t like it and she wants attention that she isn’t receiving. She’s lonely and has a lot of anger and grief she doesn’t know what to do with. This is how it comes out.

I didn’t have any preconceived notions of where the story would go after Jeanie faked her death and Molly set out on her adventure but it definitely went way beyond anywhere I would have guessed and into some pretty surreal territory I wasn’t expecting.

Kittentits is my favorite kind of weird book. I thought I’d like it but I enjoyed it even more than I thought I would. I’ve thought about Molly, a little girl I think I’d have been great friends with as a kid, several times in the days since I’ve finished it, and I expect I’ll think of her from time to time in the future.

When I picked up I’m F*cking Amazing, I thought I was in for a lighthearted and hilarious story of the sexual escapades of a woman in her late twenties to early thirties. And while I did get something hilarious, I also got something with much more depth than I expected.

The book reads very much like a memoir, or actually, it felt very much like an extremely long text from my best friend in the world. The one I used to have, anyway. We told each other everything and we were brutally honest about it all. That’s what reading this book felt like. I was being trusted with some deep, dark secrets that no one, not even the narrator’s other best friends knew.

While there were some exciting (and humorous!) sexcapades, the bulk of the story was about how the unnamed narrator dealt with her complex emotions surrounding her incredibly toxic relationships with two separate men and how she struggles with repeating patterns in her relationships and making the changes and progress she desperately hopes for. It’s a realistic portrayal of real life, where personal growth can be a messy, non-linear process. With a hilariously unhinged, vulnerable, and yes, deeply flawed, narrator, Anoushka Warden shows us that it’s okay to acknowledge that.

I’d like to thank both Netgalley and Tor Books, from whom I received an ARC of A Sorceress Comes to Call. These opinions are my own.

If you’re familiar with the story of The Goose Girl from the Brothers Grimm, you might recognize a name here, or a plot device there, but A Sorceress Comes to Call is very much a story of Kingfisher’s own design and it is absolutely brilliant. It’s intense, dark, and heart-wrenching, and Cordelia, the lonely and naive 14-year-old girl at the center of the story, was so easy to fall in love with.

But Cordelia isn’t the only star of the show. While trying to win the affection of a rich man, Cordelia’s mother, Evangeline, sees one of my favorite characters, Penelope, as competition. Penelope isn’t a traditional beauty, but everyone is mesmerized by her anyway because of her inner-beauty and confidence. It’s a stark contrast to the toxic and narcissistic behavior of Cordelia’s beautiful mother, Evangeline, who despises Penelope. I loved that Evangeline felt threatened by Penelope and witnessing how her fear evolved and twisted.

Towards the end of the book, when everything comes to a head, there’s some action that I found a bit confusing. The description of what was going on wasn’t good enough for me personally. In the end, I understood as much as the characters did, but I was a bit disappointed that I couldn’t get a grasp on what was happening as it happened. It’s fully possible this is because of my inability to picture things, but obviously I can’t be sure.

There are so many plot points I wish I could comment on but I can’t do so without spoiling things! There are some twisty bits and some crazy parts and also there’s this one part where… ahhhh! Just read this book!

I discovered Rachel Harrison last year and will very happily read anything she writes as she’s quickly become a favorite. Now that I’ve finished The Return, the only book I haven’t read yet is Bad Dolls, a collection of 4 short stories, and that’s only because it’s not available at my library right now (I have it on hold!).

In The Return, Harrison’s debut novel, the intricacies of friendships and how they grow and change are perfectly captured. Friendships can be hard to maintain, especially when it comes to the ones that start when you’re a teenager and follow you into adulthood (even as you grow into what can sometimes be an entirely different person) making a million mistakes along the way. It was refreshing to read about a group of friends loving each other while struggling with this reality instead of having perfect 10+ year long relationships. And of course the horror only made it better!

Elise, Molly, and Mae, the three friends Julie left behind when she went missing, all deal with her return differently. Upon seeing Julie for the first time, Elise immediately knows something is wrong, that Julie isn’t the same, but Molly and Mae are determined to find the Julie they’ve been missing in the one that came home. The three women struggle to agree on how best to treat Julie while Julie slips further into strangeness and the culmination of it all is perfect.

I’ve heard people refer to Rachel Harrison’s books as both ‘cozy horror,’ and ‘feminist horror,’ and I’d say both apply.

The horror can be high stakes, but the whole book isn’t edge-of-your-seat nightmare fuel. It’s the kind of horror you recommend to someone who doesn’t typically read horror and is a little interested, and you want them to read something excellent to get them hooked.

The feminist themes and strong women are present in every Harrison book and it’s something I love to see in horror.

Evocation boasts a perfect balance of character relationships, romance, and supernatural suspense.

The plot was fantastic but my favorite part was the development not only of each character, but of the relationships between Moira, Rhys, and David. Rhys and Moira's love for each other is sweet, and so deep, it actually gave me butterflies. David is a snarky jerk who is used to getting what he wants, when he wants it, but underneath his tough guy exterior is a vulnerable man who is terrified of the ancient curse placed upon his family. At the beginning of the book, Rhys and Moira are at odds with David, and he's not too happy with them either, but as the story progresses, their feelings change in a way that feels natural and evenly-paced. The proximity is forced, but the slow-burn to the conclusion isn't!

As for the story itself, it wasn't until I hit about 10% of the book that I knew it was absolutely for me. I wouldn't say the first bit was confusing, but there was some setup and I honestly didn't know exactly what was going on. But once I got there, I was all in. I was truly engrossed as the trio attempted to break the curse threatening David's life. I never would have guessed how everything came to a head! The ending was a great surprise, one that made me both excited for a sequel and beyond depressed that I'll probably have to wait a long time for it.

This book really has it all: a spell-binding plot that leaves you excited for the next installment, unforgettable characters that defy initial impressions and surprise you with their depth, and a MMC who calls the FMC “little goddess.”

I received an ARC of Evocation from the publisher and all opinions are my own. 

Thornhedge is the only T. Kingfisher book I hadn't heard of before I accidentally found it at a library I visited last month. It's a dark, twisted retelling of Sleeping Beauty. 

I love retellings of classic tales, especially when they have darker themes than the originals, so I figured I'd like this book, but I didn't expect to fall so in love with its heroine, Toadling. She's kind, curious, but cautiously so, and has a strong sense of what's right. And she can turn into a toad. What's not to love?

I also didn't expect this retelling to twist the original tale as much as it did. So many pieces of the story I am familiar with were molded into something completely different, until only the most important foundational aspects of Sleeping Beauty remained. Instead of a simple story about a lovely princess cursed by an evil queen, Thornhedge is a short story with much more depth. We're presented with the question of nature vs. nurture, there are moral quandaries, and there are relationships deeper than the insta-love of a prince who kisses a sleeping princess.

Thornhedge is one of my favorite retellings of all time and I will easily recommend it to anyone who is a fan of T. Kingfisher, a lover of fairytales, or just, you know, a person. 

The Familiar grabbed me from the first line and was extremely satisfying to read. I wouldn't say it was fast-paced, maybe more medium, but I was never bored and I never wanted to put the book down. In a lot of the books I read, there's a lot of buildup to the climax of the story only for the bulk of the action to happen in the last few pages, and I'm often left feeling like it was sort of rushed. But in The Familiar, there was buildup, and then the action started and I was like, “wait, there's still so much book left!”
I loved Luzia as a main character. I liked that while everyone around her thought she was just a stupid little servant, the reader knows she is so much more. It would have been incredibly dangerous for Luzia to show anyone just how clever she really was in the 1500s. But hiding your true self can be dangerous too, and this quote really smacked me in the face: “I know what it is to lower yourself, to keep your eyes downcast, to seek invisibility. It is a danger to become nothing. You hope no one will look, and so one day when you go to find yourself, only dust remains, ground down to nothing from sheer neglect.” I mean, it absolutely BODIED me. Leigh Bardugo, did you write that for me? I feel called out. Anyway, watching Luzia evolve from a meager scullion to a woman who truly knows what she's capable of felt really good.
Santángel was another great character and I liked the way his relationships evolved throughout the book and the way Bardugo introduced his backstory. Really, character development as a whole was super on point, even for side characters. Everyone felt important and they all evolved in ways that made perfect sense. I've learned that Bardugo is very good at this.
This is such a hard review for me because I like the book so much, I just want to gush about spoilery things. I'll just say I think the book ended just the way it should have and call it a day.
This was my first Leigh Bardugo book. Her others have been on my TBR for a while, but that list is a mile long. I hope to get to Ninth House soon because I know for sure I'm a fan of hers now!

The anger I felt while reading The Push was so intense. The way Blythe's husband Fox refused to even entertain the idea that she wasn't imagining things, or exaggerating, or just over-tired, or any other number of excuses was absolutely infuriating. So many people, women especially, know what it feels like to not be believed, and Ashley Audrain captures those feelings so well that even if you don't know how it feels, you'll know after you've read this book. Something like this should be required reading for people with a history of refusing to seriously listen to their partners.
Not only did Blythe struggle with not being believed, but she struggled with the difficulties of being a mother and the expectations of motherhood placed upon her not only by Fox, his family, and society in general, but by herself as well. It was especially hard to read about the lack of support Blythe received from Fox. He had a specific idea of what he wanted in a wife and mother of his children, and he just didn't want to see anything that could make her less than perfect. As Blythe says of Fox: “You wanted a perfect mother for your perfect daughter, and there wasn't room for anything else.” Watching her deal with all the pressure without proper help and understanding was truly heartbreaking and I imagine too relatable for a lot of mothers.
I like the way The Push is written, as if it's a long letter from Blythe to Fox. Reading it feels like peeking in on something personal and intimate. It's not my business, but I'm nosy. And I enjoyed the bit of mystery over whether or not Blythe was a reliable narrator (though I am one to believe women...).
This was a great emotional and fast-paced read, one that I didn't want to put down. I'm glad I finally got around to reading it!

I've been excited about Plastic for a long time and checked it out at the library as soon as it was released, but for whatever reason (aka I'm dumb), I didn't start it right away. In fact, I even had to renew the borrow once before I got to it. I'm kicking myself now because once I started it, I could not stop. I devoured this book and I loved it.

Plastic takes a futuristic, dystopian look at climate change and gun violence through an extremely surreal lens with plenty of dark humor. 
This book is extremely unique. The chapters are structured as if they are episodes of a TV show, but it makes sense in the context of the book. The figurines talk in what feels at first like a sort of dumbed-down way. If you've ever seen that episode of the American version of The Office where Kevin starts talking strangely and he says “Why waste time say lot word when few word do trick,” it's very much like that. It's strange at first, but easy to get used to as it's really just faster communication. Our way of speaking is even referred to as “old-fashioned dialect,” indicating that this is just the way english has evolved over time.

Sometimes you're reminded that the figurines are made of plastic in the silliest ways, for example when two of them kissed and “their hard lips graze each other's, a scratchy sound of plastic brushing plastic,” a line that pulled me back to my childhood, smushing Barbie faces together to make them kiss. Honestly, the fact that they're plastic and the ways in which they live their plastic lives is a huge reason to read the book because the way Scott Guild translates everything from human body to plastic body is so interesting and fun. But it's just one of many deep themes to consider. While the world within the book was plastic, it mirrored our own possible future so well that it gives the reader a lot to think about.
There's also Plastic: The Album, which tells the story of Plastic through song, like a musical. I listened to a couple songs and they're perfect, so full of emotion. I'm definitely looking forward to the album's release on May 31. 

I thoroughly enjoyed Plastic and I hope Scott Guild has something else in store for us!