Catie
Picking up right where the first book left off, this one follows Emily and Wendell settling back into life at Cambridge before heading off to faerie to track down the door to Wendell's realm, a thread left hanging since book one. As an audiobook listener, I noticed right away that the pacing felt tighter than the first installment, and the names and locations were so much easier to follow this time around. There were still a few stretches that dragged a little, but the improvement made me even more excited to keep going with this series.
This book had me giddy more than once. The action is there, but it never overwhelms the cozy adventure feel that makes this series so comforting. Wendell continues to steal every scene he's in, his constant “Oh Em's” and his need to take care of Emily and the things she loves, all while quietly carrying the weight of assassins and a power hungry stepmother. He shows Emily what she deserves and who she deserves, and that she doesn't have to be alone anymore. That theme plays out across the whole cast too. Her niece Ariadne starts to love her aunt (all her faults included), and there's a thread of Emily learning to love herself just as much as everyone loves her. Even Professor Rose gets a moment to prove there's more to her than anyone gave her credit for.
What I loved most is how the romance unfolds here. Nothing is shown on page, but it's handled with so much care you feel every bit of how it changes Emily and Wendell's relationship, especially coming from someone who's read plenty of spicier books.
My one real complaint is Danielle de Grey. She had so much setup in the first half of the book that I expected to love her, and instead I came away frustrated by where her arc landed, even with a partial redemption near the end.
I genuinely enjoyed this one and would absolutely recommend it to anyone already invested in Emily and Wendell's story. I'm already itching to see how book three handles everything left unresolved.
Favorite Quotes
“The problem is not the packing, I admit; I simply dislike travelling. Why people wish to wander to and fro when they could simply remain at home is something I will never understand. Everything is the way I like it here.” “Em, I must confess, I am in awe of you. I believe I am also a little frightened.” “There is nothing trivial about good coffee.” “Dear Emily,” he said as I sat down, not troubling to lift his head from his hand but smiling at me slantwise. “You look as if you've come from a wrestling match with one of your books. May I ask who won?” “Can't you sense what enchantments are stored in the stones?” I demanded. “No!” I threw my hands up in frustration. “Then why do you keep on breaking them?” “Because you told me to, you lunatic!” “I knew you were the real threat. Mortals always are, aren't they? If you read the stories. The arrogant faerie prince who can make gold from straw is always undone by the humble miller's daughter, not some powerful rival of his own stature.” “You must try your best to make friends, for those who are small cannot easily stand alone.” “One of the guiding principles of dryadology,” I said, “is this: do not cross the sort of Folk who make collections of human body parts.”
I went into Shadow Spell already bracing myself a little, since I'd seen reviews calling this one rough, and it turns out the rough part wasn't really the story itself, it was the audiobook narration. I've been leaning hard into audio lately, and this is the first time in this series that choice worked against me. The narrator just didn't bring this book the life it needed, and it kept pulling me out of a story I was genuinely excited to get back to.
The actual storyline, the parts I could focus on past the narration, was solid. Connor and Meara's slow build into something more felt a little insta-lovey at first glance, but they had years of friendship behind them this time, which book one's couple didn't have, and Roberts grounded it with enough humor and recognizable feelings that I bought it anyway. We also got more of Sorcha's Children and Cabhan's backstory here, with some time slipping between past and present that worked as a clever way to figure out how to beat him. My favorite part, even more than the romance, was watching the friendship between all six of these characters keep deepening. I don't think I've read many books that center that the way this one does.
The Ireland setting that hooked me in book one has shifted more to the background here, but it's still part of why I'm staying invested. Roberts also leans further into the darkness with Cabhan, showing him in action instead of just describing him as a threat, and that trigger warningincludes an on page sexual assault scene with no warning beforehand, so go in prepared if that's something you need to brace for.
I'd put the story itself somewhere around 3.5 stars on its own. The narration is what's dragging this one down for me, and next time I'll just pick up the actual book instead of the audio.
My Favorite Quotes
“Love isn't a prize given on merit, or something to be taken back when there's a mistake. It's a gift, as much for the giver as the one who's given it.” “As long as there's choice, the end is never set.” “The world needs lovers who fit, or how would we go on? To be only one of one for a life? That's a lonely life.” “Well, here we all are, sitting on Fin's kitchen floor. If we're going to spin the bottle, I'd like to be the one to empty it first.” “With you. Connor heard the answer in his heart as much as his head. Always.”
Mate had been on my radar since I finished Bride, and listening to it on audio made the whole experience feel even more immersive. I do want to be upfront: this is not a standalone. I know some readers have called it one, but I'd push back on that. Bride builds the world, the politics, and the characters in ways that make Mate land so much harder. Go in order.
That said, Serena and Koen's story took me by complete surprise. I genuinely think their dynamic is more compelling than Misery and Lowe's. What made it hit so deeply was how both of them, independently, had convinced themselves they didn't deserve the other. Koen carried the weight of his entire pack's grief and felt he had no right to want something for himself. Serena, caught between species and slowly running out of time, could barely justify being a burden to someone with so much already on his shoulders. It's torturous and it's healing all at once, and Hazelwood writes that tension in a way that made me genuinely ache.
There's also a quieter undercurrent in Serena's storyline that I noticed. Her mysterious illness, an undiagnosed condition affecting a Were her age, felt like a sharp little commentary on how women's bodies get dismissed by medicine. Whether intentional or not, it sat with me.
What I loved most was watching them finally accept each other, not in spite of everything but because of it. By the end I was crying. The awe they had for each other, the respect, the way they each saw the other so clearly. Koen gushing over Serena. Serena talking about Koen with all this wonder. It was a lot and I wanted every single bit of it.
The narration was incredible. It completely elevated the experience, especially during the more emotionally charged scenes. If you're considering audio, I would genuinely recommend it. A strong 4 stars, and an easy recommendation for anyone who loved Bride or just wants a fated mates story with actual emotional weight behind it.
Favorite Quotes “If someone had given me a piece of paper and asked me to list everything I liked, everything I dreamed of, everything that I was sure would make me happy, you would have been the final product of it.” “Her laughter adjusts the spin of his atoms.” “You told me that you loved me, Serena. And while I'm willing to resign myself to an existence without the person I love, I refuse to condemn you to it.” “Cute, how she thinks he'd ever let her out of his sight.” “He easily resigned himself to a lifetime without her, but... Simply put, he is unwilling to contemplate a universe in which she no longer exists.” “He would die for her, and he would kill for her. More importantly, he will live for her.” “Big Bad Murderous Wolf in Charge of Thousands Cannot Handle Girl Crying.” “I want you to be scared shitless, Serena. I want you so fucking terrified of me, you won't even dream of not doing what I say. I want you to feel like your soft little throat is in my hands, and I want you to be so afraid that I'll tear into it that when I tell you to do something for your own fucking safety, you won't consider saying anything but ‘Yes, Alpha'.”
Mysteries are genuinely my least-read genre, and I'll be honest: every time I do pick one up, I tend to rate it higher than average because my expectations are low and I need something fluffy and fun rather than dark and dense. This delivered on every single level I didn't even know I needed.
I read most of this on audiobook, and it was a peak listening experience. The recorded interview format, the way the story unfolded piece by piece, the twist I absolutely did not see coming, and then that epilogue. That epilogue had me smiling so wide. It wrapped everything up in a way that felt genuinely earned, and I loved it for that.
Maggie got me from the start. She's a walking disaster in the most endearing way, someone who has been knocked down so many times she's stopped believing in herself. There are real, legitimate reasons for that, and my heart ached for her throughout the whole book. Then Ethan shows up, and I was done. Grumpy sunshine with a he-falls-first energy is my weakness, and Ally Carter executed it so well. The chemistry between these two was electric. It didn't matter that it was wrapped in a Christmas mystery. I would have read it in July. I basically did.
The mystery itself was genuinely clever. The way all the pieces fit together, the setting, the locked-room disappearance, the eccentric cast of characters, it came together so satisfyingly. I had that feeling at the end of placing the final puzzle piece, and it was so good.
If you're a romance reader who has been nervous about picking up a mystery, this is your sign. Prioritize it for the holidays, or honestly just read it now.
Quotes
“You were never supposed to do more than he did. You weren't supposed to be more. You sure as hell weren't supposed to earn more. I know men like that. I come from a long line of men exactly like that, so believe me when I say he needed you to be less than him, and you were always going to be more.”“Of course, I'm not offended that you'd accuse me of murder. I'm offended you'd think I'd be bad at it.”“If you were mine, I'd carry you through the storm.“She hated him because he was handsome and charming and they lived in a world where a man didn't have to be anything else.”“You know, some women think I'm chivalrous.” “Some women think the earth is flat.”“Wait. You read romance?” “Sweetheart” – Ethan lowered his voice and his eyes – “I absolutely read romance.”“For a murder isn't a murder when there is no death. And a mystery isn't a mystery when” – she slammed the book shut – “It's only a test.”“Touch her and I'll kill you.“
I'll be honest, I almost talked myself out of reading this one. The hype around it was so loud that I was terrified I wouldn't love it as much as everyone else seemed to, and that fear almost kept me from it entirely. I'm so glad I pushed through, because B.K. Borison completely swept me off my feet.
What drew me in immediately was Lucie. She felt real in a way that's hard to describe. She hadn't given up on love, she was just waiting for the magic, and I understood that on a deeply personal level. Aiden, on the other hand, was a puzzle I couldn't stop wanting to solve. How does someone who hosts a romance hotline stop believing in love? That question hooked me early and kept me turning pages.
By the time Lucie's call went viral and the chaos that followed started to unfold, I was completely invested. The format of the book, with listener snippets, letters, and show clips woven in alongside the off-air moments, made me feel like I was right there with the rest of Baltimore, rooting for these two from the outside and the inside at the same time.
The conflict, when it came, felt real because I've lived a version of it. Someone so overwhelmed by their own feelings that they can't name them, let alone act on them. Aiden messed up in a very human, very recognizable way, and what he did to fix it reminded me that love doesn't always look like the magic moments. Sometimes it looks like someone showing up and doing the work.
Borison has a gift for capturing what women actually dream of, the small intimacies and the grand gestures, the awkward dates and the men who make you want to pour your drink on them. She balances all of it with warmth, humor, and real emotional payoff. The epilogue brought everything full circle in the most satisfying way.
If the rest of her backlist even comes close to this, she's going to be an auto-buy author for me.
Quotes
“I want to feel something when I connect with someone. I want sparks. The good kind, you know? I want to laugh and mean it. I want goose bumps. I want to wonder what my date is thinking about and hope it might be me. I want...I want the magic.” “I like that. Thinking that I'm worth paying attention to. Something ordinary made extraordinary by the person you're sharing it with.” “When the whole world tells you you're silly for wanting the things you want, you start to believe them. You start to think you're not worth it. That if the things you're waiting for do exist, they're not for someone like you.” “But what's wrong with being a romantic? I can be a confident, independent woman and still want someone to hold my hand. To ask about my day. It's a good thing to want passion and excitement and care. Attention and affection. I don't want to settle for anything less than that.” “I think books are sexy. No one at school has quite lived up to Aragorn yet.” “I wish there was a guidebook for this. An instruction manual that could tell me how to take myself apart and put everything back together so I'm good as new. I wish I knew how to make sense of my pieces.” “I've been flirting with you.” “Since when?” “Since I made a vague innuendo about oral surgery, give or take a couple of hours.” “You don't have to be alone to be lonely.” “Aiden never stopped believing in love. He forgot how to. He built a fortress around his heart to protect himself and lost the key somewhere along the way.” “Aiden Valentine: Flowers die. Everything dies. Caller: I thought this was a romance hotline.”
I picked this one up for book club, and it was genuinely unlike most mysteries I've read. Benjamin Stevenson leans hard into the typical conventions of the genre, with the narrator openly acknowledging the “rules” of mystery writing as the story unfolds. It's a clever, self-aware structure, and there were moments where the storytelling was genuinely stellar. The semi-unreliable narration kept me engaged, and the resolution landed in a satisfying way.
But here's the thing. When I step back and ask myself if this book is going to stick with me, the honest answer is no. And I think that's really the root of why I have such a complicated relationship with mysteries as a genre. The craft was there. The concept was fun. A dysfunctional family reunion at a snowbound mountain resort where, surprise, everyone has already killed someone? That's a premise with so much potential. It delivered on most of it.
What it didn't deliver was the emotional residue. The kind that lingers after you close the book and makes you want to press it into someone's hands and say “you have to read this.” I felt entertained while I was in it, but I wasn't moved, and for me, that's the difference between a good book and a memorable one.
If you love mysteries and especially ones that play with form and genre conventions, I think you'd have a great time with this. It's witty, well-constructed, and genuinely fun as a book club read because there's a lot to discuss as the story unravels. For me personally, it confirmed that mysteries need a very specific kind of magic to truly win me over, and this one came close without quite crossing that line.
Historical fantasy can be a tough genre for me to crack, but Queen B pulled me in completely. Something about the Tudor setting, or maybe just the way Dawson writes, made this one click in a way I didn't expect.
The premise is so clever. This is a retelling of Anne Boleyn's rise, her reign, and her beheading, reimagining her ladies in waiting as her coven. As someone who has spent years reading, watching, and researching this era, I was genuinely impressed by how Dawson wove real historical tensions into the magic. The fear of witchcraft and the rise of religious extremism were already part of Tudor England. The whispers about Catherine of Aragon, the political volatility, Henry's break from the Catholic church, the executions for the smallest perceived offenses. Dawson leans into all of it, and none of it feels like a stretch.
The same-sex relationships woven throughout the story felt honest to me, not gratuitous. These women were each other's inner circle, their confidants, their whole world. It's not a far leap to imagine that the lines between devotion and love would blur. History has always been messier and more human than it lets on.
What I loved most was how Dawson captured the atmosphere of that era, the paranoia, the betrayal, the way truth and rumor became indistinguishable. The stakes felt real and the emotional weight carried all the way through to an ending I found deeply satisfying.
I haven't read the other HMRC books yet, but finishing this one made me want to immediately. If you love Tudor England, stories about powerful women surviving impossible systems, and magic that feels rooted in something real, this one is not to be missed.
Manga is genuinely one of my favorite reading escapes, so I don't overanalyze every page. There's something so refreshing about picking up a volume and just letting it carry you through. Spy x Family has been doing exactly that for me, and Volume 3 kept that momentum going strong.
What I love about this series is how each volume brings its own mini-crisis to navigate, if not a few. Sometimes it's one big problem, sometimes it's several layered on top of each other, and the storytelling never lets it feel repetitive. Volume 3 delivers with the arrival of Yuri, Yor's brother, who turns a cozy domestic scene into a high-stakes game of spy versus secret police. The tension of Twilight trying to keep his cover intact while figuring out that Yuri is literally a member of the enemy's secret service was so fun to watch unfold.
But honestly, the part that had me most invested was the shift in the dynamic between Twilight and Yor. Volume 2 was already hinting at something a little warmer between them, and Volume 3 leans into it with some genuinely sweet, flirty moments. It makes complete sense within the story, and I am here for every second of it. The fact that this entire family is secretly a group of incredibly capable, dangerous people somehow makes the softer moments land even harder.
I'm already looking forward to Volume 4. This series has such a great balance of action, humor, and just enough heart to keep me completely hooked.
I genuinely don't know where to start, and for once, that's not a bad thing. It's because this book left me completely speechless. Stacia Stark, you outdid yourself, and I am so glad I picked this up to celebrate my birthday.
The plot is layered and intentional in a way that kept me fully invested. Rather than flooding you with world-building up front, Stark pulls back the curtain slowly, letting secrets unfold one at a time. There were moments that felt like gaps, but she stitched them all up by the end while leaving just enough breathing room to make book two feel urgent. And those last fifty-or-so pages? I could not stop. The stakes were so high, the tension so thick, I was completely consumed by what would happen to Prisca, Asinia, Demos, and the rest of this found family I somehow fell head over heels for.
Prisca's growth feels earned. Her inability to control her magic pushed her to discover her limits. Her inability to sit still pushed her toward cunning. Her reluctance to trust became something she had to choose, carefully and deliberately. I teared up more than once, and I'm not apologizing for it.
Lorian is a mystery I'm desperate to unravel. He's broody, guarded, and absolutely the “I don't love her, but touch her and die” type of MMC. He isn't perfect, and that imperfection actually made him more compelling. There's something underneath the surface of this man that we haven't fully seen yet, and I can't wait to find out what it is.
This book tackles enemies to lovers, found family, forbidden magic, political manipulation, and an unreliable history with so much intention. It's giving ACOTAR energy, but honestly the writing quality feels sharper. Fully five stars and potentially one of my best reads of the year.
The Foxglove King is an interesting one, and honestly, not very memorable for me. Though I'll give some grace to the fact that I read it the week after my wedding, so my brain was running at near-zero capacity. I'm not knocking this entire series or even book, as I think my timing was just bad, not the actual book.
What I appreciated most was how Lore is introduced. She knows herself, knows her strengths, and it was refreshing to see her lean into that confidence before everything flips and a whole other layer of her is revealed. Watching her use both her instincts and her Mortem to navigate her situation was genuinely compelling.
Gabriel was the hardest part of this book for me. He runs so hot and cold with Lore, and it made him one of the more frustrating MMCs I've encountered in a while. At the same time, there's something quietly tender in the way he tries to see her beyond her power, to help her control it, to remind her she's more than what she can wield. It's just buried under so much back and forth.
Lore herself is a survivor through and through, but what comes through in her quieter moments is that she just wants to be truly loved and trusted. Given her past, that craving feels earned and real.
Then there's Bastian, probably the most layered character in the book. He's built an entire false image of himself as a strategic move, and watching that unravel at the end, when he takes the throne and starts making calculated, almost vindictive choices, left me genuinely unsure how to feel about him. He's a fascinating contrast to Gabriel, one rooted in faith, the other in power, with Lore caught squarely between them.
I would recommend this, even though it didn't fully hit for me. There are personal circumstances at play, and the series has me curious enough to keep going.
I liked this more than I expected, but not enough for it to fully land for me.
Thornhedge is a Sleeping Beauty retelling that shifts the focus away from the princess and onto Toadling, a changeling raised by the fae who becomes responsible for maintaining a tower that is hidden by a thorn and bramble hedge. The story is short and very inward facing. Most of the conflict lives inside Toadling's head rather than in external plot beats.
The strongest part of the book is Toadling's self perception. She is convinced she is bad at nearly everything and that she continually makes the wrong choices. That insecurity felt believable and consistent, and I liked that the story never rushed her toward confidence or tried to reframe her self doubt in a dramatic way. The shift happens slowly and mostly through perspective rather than action. Halim's role worked for me because it stayed understated. His encouragement is quiet and practical, not romanticized or excessive. It felt like someone offering steadiness rather than trying to fix her, which fit the tone of the story.
Where this didn't fully work for me was the length and pacing. Just as the story started to feel settled, it ended. I wanted more time with the resolution and a clearer sense of consequence from the fairies around the curse and Toadling's choices. The fairytale elements are familiar and competently handled, but they didn't feel especially surprising.
I would recommend this as a low commitment introduction to T. Kingfisher. It's thoughtful and easy to read, but it didn't leave a strong emotional impact for me. Readers looking for a romance driven or plot heavy fantasy will likely find it lacking.
I've been wanting to dive into high fantasy for a while, and after seeing several YouTubers recommend The Faithful and the Fallen, I finally took the leap with Malice. I'm so glad I did. This is a finished four-book series, which gave me comfort going in, but I have to be honest: the first 400 pages were a slog. I didn't not want to read it, but I did need to immersion read (audio + physical) to stay engaged. If this is your first John Gwynne or your first high fantasy, just bear with it. There's so much that needs to be built: the world, the characters, the history, the politics, the magic. It takes time, and there are so many characters. I highly recommend finding the non-spoiler character list on Reddit to help keep track.
But here's the thing: that slow build is exactly what made the last 200 pages hit so hard. This book pulled emotions out of me I didn't expect. Heartbreak, loss, pride, the ache of watching characters find themselves. Gwynne spends time making you care about these people, showing you their growth over roughly a year's timeline. Without that foundation, the impact of what happens later would have been severely limited. I was genuinely worried I'd get lost or burned out in my first real high fantasy, but Gwynne has a gift for storytelling that kept me grounded. The way the narrative unfolds, starting in a different era, then pushing forward to the “present day,” builds this sprawling, politically charged world with an impending evil rooted in prophecy. By the end, I was already planning when I could start book two.
I find it hard to talk about Malice without giving too much away, which is why this review feels harder to write than most. What I can say is this: it's a story about darkness versus light, good versus evil, prophecy and chosen ones, kingdoms at odds, and the weight of decisions made in the name of power. If you're up for a challenge and love being rewarded at the end, read this. If you need fast-paced action from page one, maybe wait until you're in the right headspace for a slow burn.
“Both the brave man and the coward feel the same. The only difference between them is that the brave man faces his fear, does not run.”
“Come, boy, it is time for a lesson. Let me teach you the power of words.”
“I shall stay and tell my tale, hope that it may serve some purpose, that eyes shall see it and learn, that the future will not repeat the mistakes of the past. That is my prayer, but what use is prayer to a god that has abandoned all things . . .”
“You can tell much about a man by the company he keeps, by his friends, and his enemies.”
“There is a hole in your heart, an empty space. You must fill it with meaning. You need a cause to live for, to fight for, perhaps to die for.”
“But... why is it making you cry?' His mam's grip tightened. ‘Time passes too quickly.' She rested her head against his waist, and he stroked her hair. ‘I love you,' she whispered.”
“He is my son, my blood, my heart, my joy, my breath. No one need ask anything. I will do all that I can for him. Protect him. Fight for him. Die for him, if need be.”
Slaying the Shifter Prince was such a standout read for me. It is not an epic work of literature, but when you take it for what it is trying to be, it really works. At its core, this is a bully romance inspired by Beauty and the Beast, but it surprised me with how much more it offered. It felt like a true enemies to lovers story wrapped around a murder mystery with a major plot twist. I thought I had it figured out, but I absolutely did not. I've seen a lot of criticism about the bully aspects, but the author puts clear content warnings right at the start. If bully romance is not your thing, this probably will not be either.
The writing itself is straightforward and easy to read, with numerous quotable moments. I love when a line hits me hard, and this book had several. There were a few oddly phrased sentences or word choices here and there, but nothing that pulled me out of the story. The beginning can feel confusing since the book references events without fully explaining them yet, but instead of frustrating me, it made me want to keep reading so I could finally understand.
What grounded the story for me were the characters. Zita's grief and guilt felt painfully believable. She has lived more for her sister's memory than for herself, and that self-sacrifice shaped everything she did. Sepher sees that in her and forces her to confront it, not gently, but in a way that fits who he is. Watching Zita reclaim herself was incredibly satisfying. As a Beauty and the Beast retelling, it still felt fresh, dark, and emotionally intense.
I'd recommend this to readers who enjoy romantasy with morally grey edges, shifter romance, and bully dynamics. If those elements are not your style, I would skip it. But if they are, this one might grab you the way it did me.
Favorite Quotes
He said it like it was a curse. Like it was a prayer. Like it was loved and loathed and something he couldn't live without, a bitter medicine he needed to survive.
I hated that it was so easy for him. I hated that my hate for him boiled over into desire. I hated him and loved it.
It was his softness I hated the most, because where all the punishment and the brutal, beautiful sex had failed, this was the thing that broke me.
Because this feeling in me...it wasn't just not hate. It was...the opposite side of that coin. I was falling in love with him. And it had to stop.
Don't you understand? I submit to you. You've broken me.
Because love wasn't like that. The reality was far messier, dirtier, bloodier. It edged close to hate, had that same feral intensity. It had teeth as well as heart. It could hurt as easily as it could soothe.
Because I love all this about you. I love the way you cut me. I love how you challenge me. I love the bite of your razor-edged tongue, the viciousness of your wit. Believe me, it kills me to ask you to him go for now, because I am hungry to see your righteous rage in all its bloodthirsty glory.
I will be the curse you cannot shake, Sepher. I will only lave you once our bones are dust and the world has ceased to care who we were.
This ended up being exactly what I needed. I went into this one a little cautious because of the hype and how long it had been sitting on my shelf, but it surprised me in the best way. It did not completely knock the wind out of me, yet I found myself genuinely enjoying every moment I spent with it.
At its heart, this story is cozy, gentle, and quietly emotional. Mika's isolation felt deeply relatable, especially the way she learned to keep herself small and hidden for safety. Watching her step into Nowhere House, surrounded by people who already feel like a family even if they do not quite admit it yet, was incredibly satisfying. The humor caught me off guard more than once, and I loved how it balanced the softer, heavier themes without ever feeling forced.
What stood out most was how layered the story felt beneath its cozy exterior. It is not just about teaching young witches how to control their magic. It is about history, grief, belonging, and the slow realization that growth does not always come from fixing yourself, but from letting others see you as you are. Mika's emotional arc felt subtle but meaningful, and by the end, it was impossible not to root for her happiness.
If I had one small hesitation, it would be that the story never fully demanded my attention in a way that made it impossible to put down. Still, that almost worked in its favor. This was a comforting read, one that raised my spirits and left me feeling warm rather than emotionally wrung out.
I would absolutely recommend this, especially if you are looking for something softer after heavier reads. It is wholesome, comforting, and quietly magical, and sometimes that is exactly what a reading slump needs.
This is one of those books that feels almost impossible to explain without doing it a disservice. It is easily one of the best books I have ever read, and that surprised me, because it sits well outside the genres I usually gravitate toward. I went in knowing almost nothing beyond the overall rating, and I think that allowed the story to unfold in the most impactful way possible.
What struck me most was the way Chris Whitaker wove character depth, emotional weight, and atmosphere into something that felt quietly magical. Every page carried intention, whether through the setting, the writing style, or the moments that linger long after you read them. Even when I could piece together parts of the mystery, there were still unexpected turns that kept me fully invested.
Saint was an immediate standout for me. Her unwavering love for Patch, first as a friend and then in ways that felt deeper and more complicated, was both heartbreaking and beautiful. She becomes the steady presence not only in Patch's life, but eventually in his daughter's as well. Watching her grief evolve over time, especially from such a young age, felt raw and deeply relatable. She bends rules when necessary and lives firmly in the gray areas of the world, which made her feel incredibly real.
Patch, in contrast, carries his pain quietly. He endures loss, neglect, and unimaginable trauma without ever letting bitterness define him. Instead, he focuses on protecting others and improving their lives, even at his own expense. His ending shocked me the most, and it cemented how deeply I cared about his journey.
This story constantly reminds you that every action ripples outward. One choice leads to another, and soon the consequences touch everyone. I could write endlessly about the characters, but this is a book best experienced firsthand.
I recommend it wholeheartedly, with one caveat. This is very much a hit or miss read. If it does not pull you in within the first hundred pages, it may not be for you. Still, I think it is worth the chance.
Favorite Quotes
“She no longer cried.”
“I just wanted to show you that sometimes things survive despite the harshest of odds.”
“Patch wondered if hope was its own kind of punishment, sometimes worse than certainty, than the long and closed-off road toward healing.”
“Time changes our ability to view the things that hurt us.”
“Why do we hold on to the bad things and forget the good?”
“To love and be loved was more than could ever be expected, more than enough for a thousand ordinary lifetimes.”
“Like a reminder that sometimes, against the longest of odds, hope wins out.”
I just feel so meh about Sarah Penner books. This is my second one and I don't have any strong feelings, opinions etc. I don't think she is an author for me so take this as you will.
The plots are good and well thought out. She has a noticeable structure that obviously the books doesn't mask (most likely due to my uninterest), and the characters...I have a really hard time connecting with them.
This book surprised me in ways I did not expect. I picked it up on a recommendation from a friend, unsure if it would really be for me, and honestly, the audiobook is the reason I finished it. I am so glad I did, because walking away from this story unfinished would have been a real loss.
Taylor Jenkins Reid introduced a narrative structure that felt fresh to me, weaving modern-day moments with flashbacks in a way that felt intentional, seamless, and emotionally grounded. The pacing between timelines worked, and the tone remained classy throughout (very mild spice off-page), which suited the Hollywood eras it explored from the 1950s through the 1980s. The emotional depth she captured between multiple characters felt effortless, especially considering how much ground this story covers.
At its core, this is Evelyn's story. A woman determined to escape a painful childhood marked by poverty and abuse, who chose survival and ambition again and again, even when those choices hurt the people around her. Watching her evolution was fascinating. She begins with herself firmly at the center of every decision, but over time that sharp self-preservation softens into accountability, generosity, and care for the people she once used (or hid) to get ahead. Evelyn insists she is not a good person, yet by the end I found myself questioning that narrative more than once.
The book also tackles an incredible range of heavy topics, including abuse, racism, mixed-race relationships, queer identity hidden by Hollywood expectations, celebrity obsession, crime, and death with dignity (I maybe missed a few too!). None of it felt glossed over, which is impressive given the length of the book.
Monique's role grounds the story emotionally. Her relationship with Evelyn is complicated, empowering, and deeply uncomfortable at times. Watching her grapple with admiration, anger, and betrayal added a layer of realism that made the ending hit harder.
I did not give this five stars because the first half moved slowly for me, and I struggled to stay engaged until well past the midpoint. As a fantasy reader who loves immersive world-building, the restraint in description made it harder for me to fully sink in early on. Still, the payoff was worth it, and I walked away genuinely impressed.
I had such a fun time with this book, and I truly do not know why I avoided it for so long. It ended up being the perfect cold-weather read. This book, in my opinion, is meant to be entertaining more than literary work of art. Maybe because my expectations were so low, I was completely surprised by how much I enjoyed it. I laughed, I stayed fully engaged, and before I knew it, I was invested in watching Georgie and Vektal figure out their strange, inter-species rhythm.
The blend of fated mates, insta love, and alien romance works better here than I expected. The language barrier brings a playful tone to their dynamic, softening the intensity of the bond and giving the story room to breathe. Those moments of uncertainty, paired with the spice and the warrior culture woven into Vektal's character, kept the connection from feeling rushed. I also appreciated how clean the writing felt. The editing is sharp, and nothing pulled me out of the experience.
I did find myself wishing for a stronger payoff with the green aliens. The tension early on set the stage for something big, so having that conflict drift away without a real confrontation felt a bit anticlimactic. It did not take away from the charm of the story, though. Everything else hit the exact notes I was hoping for in a fun, fast sci fi romance.
Now that I finally dove in, I am excited to keep going with the series. It is quick, spicy, humorous, and genuinely charming. I would definitely recommend it to anyone looking for a light escape with a touch of weirdness in the best way.
Nicole Scarano did something that's often overlooked in the Romantasy genre. She crafted a fully realized, emotionally layered story in under 300 pages, and it works beautifully. In The Scattered Bones, we follow Sellah, the chosen vessel of the goddess Hreinasta , through a narrative that moves fluidly between timelines. I've seen this dual-timeline structure used before, but rarely in Romantasy. It made this story feel fresh and compelling, and I found myself drawn into each shift as the past and present intertwined to reveal her journey.
At its core, this book explores love and loss through Sellah's connection with Kaid, a relationship that's intense, forbidden, and, if I'm honest, a little surface-level. She's been isolated her whole life, born only to serve as an offering to the gods, so it's easy to see why she clings to any human connection. The love story might lean into instalove, but it never overtakes the greater message. What truly drives this book is Sellah's grief after Kaid is taken from her and how she finds meaning in the aftermath. Her goddess, Hreinasta, is a jealous b**h, ruthless and coldhearted in every sense. Scarano doesn't soften her or give her redeeming moments; she's the embodiment of divine cruelty and envy, and that makes Kaid & Sellah's defiance feel even more powerful.
Through this struggle, Sellah's journey becomes one of resilience and rebellion, of defying divine expectation to discover her own power. The gods and goddesses adds richness, but it's Death who stands out most. His quiet guidance and unwavering faith in Sellah mirror the self-belief she slowly learns to claim for herself and eventually offers back to him. I'd absolutely recommend this one. The audiobook is fantastic, and the story's pacing and scope make it perfect for readers who love myth-inspired tales without the heavy sprawl. The romance simmers quietly in the background while the themes of faith, loss, and identity take center stage. It's a refreshing, emotionally resonant take on what it means to find hope when everything you've known has been stripped away.
Fairydale felt unlike anything I have read in a long time, the kind of story that takes its time but rewards you for settling into every layer. Darcy's introduction seems straightforward at first, then by the second chapter the entire mood shifts into something strange and tense. The blend of fantasy, romance, and mystery works because Fairydale feels off in ways Darcy can't quite articulate, and following her confusion only made the story more gripping. The three timelines slowly shape a larger picture, and once it becomes clear that Darcy, Lizzie, and Sela are the same woman, the entire narrative clicks into place. Her innocence, her longing, and the way love threads through all her lives creates an emotional core that surprised me.
The book leans into themes of fated mates and eternal love, but it balances them with politics, secrets, hidden magic, and a found-family dynamic that adds warmth to the darker moments. I especially loved how Lancet uses Darcy's limited understanding to give us an unreliable narrator without ever making her dishonest. She's simply navigating a world that keeps shifting under her feet, which makes every reveal feel earned.
There were so many twists and OMG moments that kept me hooked, even when a few turns felt predictable. The length may feel heavy to some readers, but I actually loved the way the extra detail deepened both the world and Darcy and Amon's connection. My only real gripe comes in Part Three. The romance and spice escalate so sharply that it started pulling me out of the emotional arc I was invested in. Earlier sections handled tension and intimacy in a way that felt more balanced for me.
Even with that, I would still recommend Fairydale to readers who love romantasy with mystery, hidden identities, and a sweeping love that stretches across lifetimes. I would just be a little selective about who I hand it to because the spice level does intensify by the end.
I thought this was a strong finale to the duology, even if it didn't hit me quite the way the first book did. The Shadows Between Us had completely captivated me, so stepping into Chrysantha's story with my lukewarm feelings about her from book one made me unsure of what I was walking into. It becomes clear pretty quickly that what had been revealed about Chrysantha was part of Levenseller's goal to mislead the reader. She has spent years wearing a very intentional mask, and getting a look at who she is beneath that performance made her far more intriguing than I expected. Her drive for freedom shapes everything she does, and watching how she uses the way people underestimate her felt clever and satisfying.
That sense of control shifts once Eryx enters the picture, pulling the story into a familiar but enjoyable enemies to lovers arc. The beats are predictable in the way many romances in this trope are, although I didn't find that frustrating. The tension between them builds through mistrust, sharp banter, and the kind of push and pull that suits both their personalities. What really stayed with me was the idea of finding someone who sees you completely, even in the parts of yourself you try to protect or hide. There is something compelling about a romance that allows each character to keep their autonomy rather than bending for the sake of love.
Some of the spark that made the first book feel so fresh is missing here, which is what lowered my rating a bit. Even so, the pacing is easy, the dynamic between the leads is engaging, and the romance has a payoff that feels earned without relying on explicit scenes. It is a satisfying conclusion overall, and I would recommend it to anyone wanting to finish the duology or follow Chrysantha's journey to its end.
What a great ending to this duology. While the direction of the story felt clear after book one, VB Lacey still managed to surprise me with twists and emotional turns that kept me fully engaged. The way she explored the loss of the elementals, the weight of that power, and the realization that no one truly needs it was thoughtful and gave the story a strong sense of closure.
Sebastian and Isla's journey was exactly what I hoped for, but not in a predictable way. They didn't simply fall back into love. Both had changed, and they needed to rediscover themselves before they could truly come together again. Isla's hesitation to let go of her old life felt real and refreshing, especially for a romantasy. I appreciated that their romance shared space with deeper themes of loss, hope, and self-discovery. It reminded me that happy endings can look different for everyone, sometimes centering on finding peace or learning to love yourself first.
Rynn's redemption arc was one of my favorite parts of the story. After book one, I could hardly stand him, but seeing his injury, his humility, and his willingness to take responsibility made him feel completely transformed. His relationship with Annelise worked so well. She didn't just fall for him right away. He had to earn her trust, and she had the strength and confidence to meet him as an equal. Their dynamic was such a joy to read, and that proposal scene had me smiling and laughing out loud. It was the perfect blend of humor and heart.
I would absolutely recommend this book. It's a fitting close to a beautifully written duology that balances magic, emotion, and growth. The spice is present but never overwhelms the story. Instead, it focuses on the characters, their relationships, and the ways they learn to move forward. Perfect for readers who love found family, redemption arcs, and stories that leave you with a sense of hope.
Volume 2 keeps following Agent Twilight and the mismatched little family he has built for the sake of his mission, and I loved how this installment opened up the world around them. The first volume intrigued me, but this one gave me exactly what I wanted. I started to see more of Yor and Anya outside the walls of the “mission”, and even though we still do not get much backstory, every new glimpse into their lives made the story feel fuller. Meeting Yor's coworkers, her brother, and Anya's classmates added fresh faces without feeling overwhelming.
This volume leans even harder into the humor and warmth that make this series special. I kept finding myself laughing at the timing, the absurdity, the way this group tries so hard to pretend they are normal while somehow making themselves look even stranger.
The action and undercover moments still keep the plot moving, but the emotional side in this volume is what hit harder this time. I found myself rooting for this family, even while knowing everything is supposed to be fake. Something about seeing them stumble into genuine connection gives this volume a charm that surprised me. Yor's advice to Twilight, Twilight & Yor's actions and lessons for Anya, Anya's ability to read their minds and while it's sometimes frightening, still wanting to be like both of them.
This was the point where the series officially hooked me. It is fun, lighthearted, and full of moments that caught me off guard. I am excited to keep going because it feels like this strange little family has only just begun to find its rhythm.
What a great YA graphic novel, perfect for spooky season but truly one you could pick up any time of year. Kay Davault has done an amazing job both writing and illustrating Oddity Woods. I'm so glad I added it to my TBR.
The art style immediately pulled me in: it's vibrant, dark, and moody in all the best ways. Davault captures moments of light, fear, and hope beautifully through her illustrations. It's not often that both the story and the art shine equally in a graphic novel, but she really nailed it here.
The plot had me hooked from the start, full of mystery, paranormal touches, and that delicious “found family” energy. I loved the little Easter eggs sprinkled throughout and the twisty ending that left me both surprised and satisfied.
If you're a fan of YA, mystery, or graphic novels with heart and atmosphere, Oddity Woods is one to add to your list. I can't wait to see what Davault creates next.