wardenred's reviews
828 reviews

If you like dark academia and gothic, explorations of misogyny, themes like the impact of stories, and romance subplots focus on healing, definitely pick this one up. Especially if you also value vibes over plot and get that special longing, anxious feeling in your chest whenever you so much as think about the sea.

This was a slow read for me, and I changed my opinion about it a bunch of times, but ultimately, I liked far more about it than I didn’t. The prose, in particular, is such a strong part of the book, doing so much to create a heavy, uncertain, gothic atmosphere and to support the themes of the book. This is indeed a study in drowning: because of the Drowning as an event important to the setting, because the sea creates a threat, because Effy spends almost the entirety of the story metaphorically drowning. And so the prose is pretty much full of water. There are water-themed metaphors and similes everywhere, water-related colors and qualities to the various scene settings, and every time there is a word choice that can be even remotely associated with water, you bet the author takes it. The watery themes just never let go, and it creates a beautiful effect.

The worldbuilding was occasionally confusing. The bigger concepts, like the politics, the folklore, the academic and literature culture, were really well-realized. On the smaller scale, though, while the vibes were impeccable, I struggled to actually feel grounded. It was kind of like listening to a “decrepit gothic mansion by the sea” soundtrack without getting a visual. The setting is a secondary world that has phones, cars, indoors plumbing, ceiling fans, etc—but for the love of the sea, I can’t tell you what era or mix of eras one should be envisioning with them all. 1920s? 1950s? 1980s? Might be a “me” problem, but I legit don’t know. Guess this isn’t particularly important; but it kept making me feeling shaky and uncertain. If the setting was farther divorced from the real world, I would be completely fine with the existing level of descriptions, I think. But here, it was like… hmmm… like when you’re learning a language that has a lot of common with your native one. You really need to explicitly understand the differences and the similarities.

The plotting was probably the weakest part of the story. The central mystery about the real authorship of the novel Angharad was rather predictable and kind of… oddly executed? The specific actions Effy and Preston took and their mindsets throughout the investigation felt less like “we’re solving a mystery” and more like “we’ve got this conspiracy theory we want to spread.” Also, the reveal is pretty much based on one glaring plot hole that I won’t comment on in detail to avoid spoilers, and I also kind of understand how you can squint and ignore the hole-ness of it in favor of focusing on the themes, but still, it felt pretty meh to me. In general, there were times when that central plot felt like it was just interfering with the vibes and the characters’ inner journeys rather than helping both.

Speaking of characters, I really loved Effy throughout the book, and I felt for her a lot: the pain she was in, the survival mechanisms she’s developed, her quiet strength mixed with anxiety, the way she gave herself the chance to heal. She’s really been dealt a shitty lot in life, but I feel like she’s going to be fine eventually. Preston was a cinnamon roll, and I appreciated how supportive he was of Effie and how focused on lifting her up. It’s worth noting that the book promises enemies to lovers and doesn’t deliver—they’re barely rivals, tbh, and even though there’s some light animosity at the start, it gives way quickly enough to seeking understanding. Which, I feel, really suits these characters and the story. They just aren’t the kind to get locked in a more typical enemies-to-lovers type of dynamic—good for them! Though i do feel there were some missed opportunities here, in particular with the impact the politics of the world might have on their relationship given that, even though his mother is Llyrian, Preston has Argantian origins and the tensions between the countries are considerable, to say the least. It felt like the book did try to explore that at first, with Effy’s preconceived notions about Preston, but that line of thinking was quickly dropped in favor of other themes.

Overall, I’m a big fan of the work the author does with the prose and the vibes, and when the next book comes out, I’m quite likely to pick it up. It will be interesting to see further character development from both leads, and I’m looking forward to once again feeling like my ereader now smells of the sea. 🌊

Such an interesting Sleeping Beauty retelling with a focus on fairies and changelings and a kinda ambiguous take on who is the princess and who is the fairy that cursed her—it kind of works both ways. It has as much heart as I’ve come to expect from T. Kingfisher’s novellas, and it’s everything a story about faeries should be: beautiful, slightly creepy, and fair in the most unfair of ways.

I really liked Toadling, the MC who was stolen as a kid and raised by scary bog fae who genuinely loved her and then was given a mission by a hare goddess, and Halim, the very nice knight who shows up to rescue a princess from a tower but is willing to listen and learn and genuinely figure out what’s up. What endeared me to them especially is how kind they both are. While I love digging into the psyche of flawed characters, I also sometimes just love reading about genuinely good people trying their best, and this book absolutely delivers on that front. 

The funny thing about the central plot element is, if I were to read this story a few years ago, I would have probably given it a far lower rating and grumbled at Fontaine being just evil because she’s evil and it’s her nature to be evil and she can’t be redeemed, only contained and destroyed. This would have felt so flat and simplistic—and yet now, looking at the political realities we live in, I find this to be such a good and meaningful part of the story. Sometimes, evil is just evil (though admittedly usually through choice and not because it’s inherent and inevitable), and the truly kind and good thing is to destroy it if you can.

The prose here is evocative and sometimes quirky, the fairy tale vibes are ever-thick, and the ending is hopeful with a subtle touch of bittersweet. There’s something so soothing and cozy about this book, despite the darker sides of fae lore woven into the narrative. Highly recommended.

Wow! This is my favorite in the series so far—and definitely the most unsettling. Because forget about twisted resurrected corpses, eldritch aliens, and gods from the deep. Forced institutionalization in a 19th century asylum is objectively much worse. I wish I had read the trigger warnings before pressing play on this one, tbh, because certain parts did make me feel scared (and also upset and angry and altogether murderous).

Speaking of gods from the deep, though—R'lyeh and the Deep Ones and the whole nautical eldritch horror theme have always been my favorite parts of the mythos, and I absolutely loved how this theme was handled in this book. All the nightmares Whyborne has, the vision slipping into the real world and crowding it out, the magic, the special mix of clarity and confusion—I’m just absolutely digging everything about this. And the deep sea god was so alien and so oddly relatable—can’t decide if I want to get possessed by him or be him (just kidding… probably).

The plot is a braid of many threads, and it’s a joy to see how they all twist and turn and come together. there are Whyborne’s dreams. There’s the central mystery that catches the characters unawares in the very first chapter and leads them to the Stormhaven asylum. There are Griffin’s visiting parents and cousin. There are smaller subplots, like Whyborne’s continued study of the Arcanorum and his own family. And as the book progresses, all of this really comes together in a super satisfying way. The final act in particular is such a wild stretch, I was on the edge of my sit throughout. Things just keep escalating while also coming together tighter and tighter. I also really liked how the narrative threads from previous books, especially the first one, were incorporated in just the right times and, in a couple of instances, how just enough new information was injected to make me look back at the earlier events and recontextualize them slightly.

If I had to search for flaws, I’d say the very beginning is a bit shaky: it’s too slow for in media res and too quickly moving for a gradual lead into the inciting incident, so it hovers in an awkward spot that only really works because this is a series installment and the reader is expected to already be invested. Also, the actual investigation part, before the horror action starts kicking in, is once again slightly meandering—the author continues to be much better at those action parts, although I think the other supernatural mystery aspects are improving, too, compared to the previous books. There are also definite improvements in the intimacy scenes (I mean both the smut and the moments when the leads get vulnerable with each other), though at a certain key point the dialogue did kind of go overboard with the dramatic cheesiness, I fear.

Speaking of the leads! Am I finally convinced that Whyborne and Griffin are actually good for each other and shipping-worthy? Yes and no. For a big part of the story I was really frustrated by their mutual mistrust. Whyborne keeps being jealous and insecure about the relationship, Griffin keeps explicitly not trusting him about the magic, and both of them have a point in some way, as in, I totally see where they’re coming from in the context of their own pain points and trauma. But it’s so frustrating and makes me so worried for them in the long run and makes me feel there’s more codependence here than love. Especially on Whyborne’s part, because he’s constantly proclaiming his deepest devotion to Griffin in his narration, “I would do anything for him,” and then practically in the same breath convinces himself that Griffin is going to ditch him any moment now, interprets everything Griffin says in the most “nope, yeah, he’s *definitely* gonna leave me” way possible, and self-flagellates about how boring and plain he is and how Griffin must suffer in this relationship… And damn, it reminds me of the unhealthiest relationship I’ve ever been in. Yes, definitely, it’s not so much Griffin who’s making Whyborne feel this way as it’s Whyborne’s previous baggage, and Griffin has plenty of his own baggage that he’s dealing with in the best ways he knows how, and the two of them are clearly trying so hard to help each other. But I just keep feeling that they’re moving through their respective healing processes in such different ways, at such different paces, that sometimes they hinder each other more than they help. The writing does make me feel, by this point, that they *could* be good for each other at some indeterminable point in the future when they’re better, so there’s that. And at least they have Christine to provide assessments, insights, and dry humorous commentary while they fumble their ways toward that possible future.

Speaking of Christine, she continues to be my absolute favorite, the one character who consistently made me laugh even when I was busy having assorted negative feelings, and such a badass still. I’m glad she got moments to shine and to be crucial to the plot, but I’m also glad she got to say no to participating in something she didn’t agree with and went off to live her own life for a bit at one point. I’m also so angry about her having to constantly run into men who dismiss and belittle her—like good grief, how was this ever seen as a normal way to treat women, why did humanity at one point decided to treat half of it self as lesser and how have we still not shaken it off??? People are the real eldritch horrors sometimes. Anyway, yeah, Christine is awesome and needs to get even more opportunities to be awesome down the line. And I loved that we got to meet ore great female characters in this installment. I actually really hope to see Ruth again at some point—hopefully she does figure out a way out of the cage of her family’s expectations.

By the way, to round this off: utterly loved how the themes of family were handled here, even if it was genuinely painful at times. Griffin’s situation is so relatable, it absolutely broke my heart. And I had to bitterly chuckle at that one moment Whyborne’s father acknowledges his bravery and Whyborne immediately decides it’s some vile manipulation, because yeahhhh, when you spend ages destroying your kid’s self-esteem, they *will* take everything you say as a trap or a wapon against them, that’s just how the bad cookie crumbles.

Definitely a high note to finish my reading year on! I’ve missed Murderbot’s special deadpan voice. It remains one of the most relatable sci-fi characters ever for me, and I was delighted to read about the complex emotional reactions it’s been having. Particularly toward Dr. Mensah (can a robot have friends? particularly when the friend is actually technically their owner? but doesn’t seem to want them to be a robot?). Who happens to be kidnapped and in need of rescue, so here we go.

The pacing here felt really fast—faster, perhaps, than it actually is in terms of events progression. Like, there’s definitely some build-up to the action parts, but I still felt like I was dropped right in the thick of it from the first pages. I think that’s because this is so explicitly a series installment, building up on the problems and plot threads of the story before this novella, bringing in old friends and enemies. It kind of feels like I’ve just turned a page and landed into the next chapter leading up to an exciting plot point. A good thing, to be clear! Especially since in reality it’s been months since the previous installment for me. Maybe one day when I’m finished with the series I’ll re-read it in binge mode and see how it feels without breaks between books.

All in all, this continues to be an excellent space opera with a strong cyberpunk vibe, combining action and adventure with some discussion on (not) being human. It’s snarky, smart, and so, so engrossing. I pretty much inhaled it in one go.

Second chance romance is among my favorite tropes/subgenres, and this time of the year calls for Christmas romcoms, so I was pretty excited for this book. Two exes stuck together in an adorable holiday home with potentially matchmaking friends, what’s not to love? The execution of the core trope, apparently, that’s what! You’re probably far more likely to enjoy it if you’re into second chance stories where the leads pretty much pick up where they left off, but after some drama. In that case, I actually recommend this book a lot! If, however, you’re like me and what you’re looking in second chance romance is more that “it was the right person in the wrong time” feel—seeing the characters meet again in different states of mind, having them internalized and processed past experiences to an extent, still the same people at their core but not likely to make the very same mistakes—then… Honestly, maybe sit this one out.

While I didn’t really like the main characters and can’t ever be convinced they can build a lasting relationship again, I want to say I did enjoy the writing. It flowed pretty smoothly, the Hallmark movie-style winter holiday vibes were thick and palpable, and all the romcom beats were hit just right, with some light twist now and then. Also, while the leads weren’t my kind of people, I really admire the character work here. Both Charlotte’s and Brighton’s flaws are internally consistent, solid, and understandable. They’re very fleshed-out characters who come alive on the page. I dislike them as fictional people, but I also feel the author did a great job with them both.

Speaking of that dislike… let’s start with Brighton, the runaway bride. She grated on my nerves so much with her… I guess the word here is immaturity? She’s the kind of person who may dramatically blame herself for her wrongdoings sitting around on her own, but when it comes to actually assuming responsibility, she doesn’t know how. She is mad that Charlotte doesn’t want to speak with her when they both end up in the same house for the holidays (because their friends who invite them over happen to be, unbeknownst to Brighton and Charlotte, sisters). That’s when she literally left Charlotte at the altar and when she knows that Charlotte has childhood trauma around abandonment, so it’s to be expected that event caused an extra amount of damage. Like… maybe give that girl a moment before getting upset with her?

There were also those slightly toxic moments when she kept calling Charlotte by her old nickname despite Charlotte asserting several times she’d prefer her full name now, or when she

tried to initiate a “let’s give this one more chance” talk when Charlotte was really drunk and clearly not thinking straight.

And while I definitely don’t think it’s wrong of her to rely on other people a lot—community and friendship are awesome!—the specific *way* she leaned on others, combined with the rest of it, left me feeling iffy. It’s kind of like she expected people to just read her and give her what she needs or even force her toward it—and then if that somehow happened, everything was awesome, but in the more likely event that the other person wasn’t telepathic, it was their fault.

But then there was also Charlotte, who admittedly took longer to piss me off (mostly because “emotionally constipated human-shaped icicles who are only like that because life hurt them so much” are kinda my type in fiction), but then managed to do so with gusto. See, she just. Never stopped running away. Her first instinct upon seeing Brighton was to pretend she doesn’t know her. She kept backing out of all important conversations, shutting out her friends, avoiding topics that hurt her, trying to ignore those topics out of existence, etc, etc. And apparently,

she used to display a milder version of all those same qualities back during her relationship with Brighton. So while I do think Brighton needed to be explicit and straightforward about her problems rather than hinting and being vague, Charlotte absolutely did her part in keeping things vague. In a way, she ran away first—from Brighton’s worries and from all the ways they were not quite compatible at that stage of life

.

Come to think of it, if there was no second chance element (or if it was a red herring and the real romance happened, say, between Charlotte and Wes, or between Brighton and some other character), I would have enjoyed exploring either character’s neuroses. But with the plot being as it is, I just kept looking at the two of them displaying all the same qualities that broke them apart in the first place, made *worse* by the years… and, like, nah. Please keep these two away from each other. Okay, maybe let them spend some time together and get closure, then put at least three major cities between them and may they never meet again.

I did really like how the author developed these characters by constantly contrasting them with each other. For example, early on she shows them in the very same situation: driving up to the house where they’ll be staying. They display completely opposite reactions to the coziness and the decorations—and both react that way because it reminds them of literally the same place. Or when they finally confess to someone about their history:

Charlotte chooses to take the opportunity to confess to Wes, no one pushes her to do it, whereas Brighton gets literally cornered by Adele. On one hand, it shows which one is more mature and proactive. On the other hand, it also shows how Charlotte builds up walls and would rather talk to a stranger than a friend/someone she shares part of her life with. While Brighton has built the kind of life where someone who cares about her can be there for her to push her to talk.

I also liked the side characters; they didn’t get many particularly deep moments, but they were all easy to distinguish and fun. Adele was my favorite with her awesome big sister vibes (also, yay for aro rep!), and I also really liked Wes—he was so kind and genuine. Nina was both awesome and intimidating, as far as mothers go; I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving side of her well-meaning meddling, but I appreciate how accepting and compassionate she was in many ways. I felt for Sloane’s attempts to get through to Charlotte. Manish often made me laugh.

Overall, the book *is* rather well-written, it just that it failed to sell me on the idea that the two MCs can in any way, shape, or form build a life together. Both because of their personalities and circumstances, but also, I think, because the weakest part of the book is the ending.

Allegedly, the MCs go through some growth and achieve some revelations that should make them more compatible, but all of it is basically summarized. Just like, incidentally, the resolutions of several side plots were super condensed, too, leaving me hungry for more pay-off.

I think that approach would have left me disappointed even if I was invested in the romance!

Hello, new fun source of mixed feelings! I liked parts of this book so much, but then there were entire chapters that made me struggle to stay focus—always an interesting combination. 

At its heart, this is the sort of enemies-to-lovers + arranged marriage story where the MC marries an alleged villain for the sake of her country and then discovers that her husband is in fact *not* the villain of the story. It’s also far more worldbuilding-heavy than an average romantasy, I feel, with a lot of politics that are handled in really cool, realistic ways. It is rare that I see the links between climate, trade, and warfare in the context of foreign relations explored so well outside of history- or politics-focused non-fiction. Alongside the evocative descriptions of jungles and snakes, this made the setting feel very real. I also generally liked the geography of this world, with the continents connected with a huge bridge and how control over this bridge is a mixed blessing for a specific country. 

Much as I’m happy to sing praises to the worldbuilding itself, however, I have problems with how it’s delivered and how it’s interwoven with the central relationship plot thread. The more world-focused bits are almost universally dense, infodump-y, and often involve stuff happening elsewhere and the characters talking/reminiscing about it later. Meanwhile, Lara and Aren’s interactions where they get to know each other and eventually catch feelings are all pretty action-y, emotional, full of banter and cool cinematic moments. Even though their relationship very much exists in the context of the world’s politics (and their marriage, in turn, directly affects the political plot/is a part of it), this duality of approaches kept creating that “am I actually reading two separate books?” feeling. It also sometimes just felt jarring—kind of like, imagine reading a contemporary romance, and you’re all invested in the relationship, and then suddenly there’s a transcript of the daily news the characters watch together to get caught up on the world’s affairs, followed by a summary of a New York Times or Reuters analytical piece about one of the ongoing conflicts around the globe. This felt like that, but fantasy.

As far as the romance is concerned, I really enjoyed the development of it. It’s a slow burn, and there’s all that extra tension around Lara concealing the fact that she’s a spy and Aren being pretty sure she’s probably a spy. The start was rocky, the subsequent developments grew on me fast, and I think they complement each other really well as people. I liked all the subtle comparing and contrasting between them, and how the secondary characters surrounding Aren all helped, with their reactions and interactions with him, show who he is as a person. His care for his desire to create a better future for his people even when he was told he’s being too idealistic really resonated with me. 

Lara, for her part, absolutely captured my heart at the beginning of the book, showing herself as badass, capable, courageous, and smart. That first scene immediately had me invested in her journey. Unfortunately, later on that perception kind of faltered, because at key points of the plot she kept stubbornly refusing to display those qualities to recognize what was actually happening. She started off openly showcasing a degree of defiance to her father and a complete willingness to accept that he’s capable of heinous things, but then as soon as she was away from him, she was constantly like, “No, he wouldn’t lie, he cares for his people, etc.” And I kind of get how this can co-exist with what she shows early on: indoctrination, trauma, etc would do that. But those scenes aren’t written as that specific brand of mental gymnastics at all, so this is my assumption of what might have been happening there, not anything the book explicitly told or showed me. Instead, Lara’s behavior felt like she suddenly lost half of her abilities and experience whenever that one specific subject came up, making the stalling for the reveal feel artificial. 

The ending in the book, in many ways, was a punch in the gut. I really liked how the final twist was handled, and the way it echoed the beginning of the book and made it so that the first choice the MC made in the book led very directly to the final problem.  I liked how it came right when things were settling down, too, making me feel like we’re in the “wrapping up the final threads” territory while wondering why there were a bit too many pages left—would the final part end up dragging? OH NO, THE OPPOSITE. With a cliffhanger like that, I’ll be definitely picking up the next book.

Second book in, this series continues to be excellent entertainment. It’s combining all of my favorite things: creepy af eldritch horrors, ongoing romance with flawed characters, a villain who does something horrible because he feels it’s the more moral choice compared to the alternative, unpleasant historical realities not being glossed over and yet not being allowed to stand in the way of hope and happiness, and giggle-inducing banter. If you love those things to, definitely pick Whyborne & Griffin up, don’t be like me and keep delaying it for no sane reason. It’s awesome so far.

Other than just being a really fun and scary supernatural adventure, I feel like this book does great as a series installment specifically. It picks up so many small threads from the first novel to develop and sets up hooks for stuff to come. I feel it’s particularly evident when it comes to character and relationship arcs. Speaking of the latter, I kind of really dislike the places the guys’ relationship went into on a personal level, but I’m really digging it on a storytelling level, kinda? I mean, the circumstances of the third act break-up in the first book clearly showed they’re in for a rocky ride, but then they transitioned into a honeymoon period and kind of swept it all under the rug. But the events of this installment, particularly the involvement of Griffin’s ex, make it impossible to keep that metaphorical rug smooth over the pile, so we’ve got Whyborne’s jealousy and Griffin’s insecurities spilling all over the pages. I think they got pretty toxic at one point tbh, and I feel oddly let down by Griffin. It’s already evident that his whole deal is that he’s spent most of his life as a lying liar who lies, but I thought that some of his personal qualities that particularly endeared Whyborne (and me) toward him, like his inherent kindness, were his actual true colors shining through whatever masks he wore. Now, I’m not so sure. I’m glad the guys were able to talk it out and recommit to each other, but I continue to not be sold on them as a longterm, endgame type couple. They have great chemistry and are entertaining together, but are they *good* for each other? I’ll see what the next books have to say.

As for the book’s flaws, there’s once again the matter of the spicy scenes being kiiiiiiinda cringey due to some word choices, but I think they’re getting better, and I like how by the end of this novel the author started actively using those scenes as tools for more in-depth character development. And then there’s also the mystery—it got *sooo* good around the final 30% of the book with all the reveals and action and high-stakes moments, but I think that some of the threads from the same mystery’s set-up got forgotten. Like, that whole odd alien stone that basically started it all—literally everyone stopped thinking about it midway through investigation. Honestly, now that I think about it closely, I have to admit Jordan L. Hawk is far better at the action-y parts of horror than at the investigative horror these books are billed as, and what the investigative parts are lacking is attention to detail. So now I’m here thinking about constructing effective mysteries and how to make every detail matter or feel like it matters, and I like these thoughts. They’re inspiring.

All in all, I’m really excited to continue with this series. I hope Christine continues to be a prominent presence and that she’ll have more of her own stuff to do rather than just accompanying the leads, because she’s amazing and deserves all the storylines. Excited to see what other curveballs Whyborne’s family has to throw, especially now that he’s utilized his newfound experience in standing up to unspeakable horrors in order to stand up to his father’s butler. Hoping that all those hints about the magic book trying to influence Whyborne’s judgment pay off at some point and create a glorious mess. And I really want to see what kind of person Griffin really ends up being once he’s done dealing with all the self-inflicted layers of deception (it’s so cool, by the way, how Whyborne’s POV makes Griffin’s arc so obvious even as Whyborne himself doesn’t seem to be fully cognizant of his boyfriend’s issues!).

This book picks up right where the first installment of the Drake Chronicles left off and finally makes good on the first book’s early promises with all the big politics coming into play. Which means it once again leaves me feeling slightly deceived, lol. Because the first book made all those promises and then turned into a cozy slice-of-life about adapting to life at a foreign court and learning new customs and falling in love etc, etc. Now I picked up the next one expecting more of the same, with maybe slightly higher  stakes, but instead there are epic journeys and dragons and battles and an ever-increading number of POVs? Like, none of that is a bad thing, and a lot of it is quite intriguing, but can this series decide what it wants to be, please!

All in all, I feel this is what we used to call romantic fantasy before those words were shortened to romantasy and started defining a specific brand of capital R romance in a magical secondary world setting. It’s a fantasy adventure with elements of a family saga, there are dragons and adventures and drama, and there are also prominent romantic storylines. Eric and Ollie’s continuing love story is the biggest among them, but there’s also Tessa’s love triangle with Eric’s nephews that is steadily getting more tangled, and the evolving tension between Revna and Bryne, and then in the “meanwhile back in Drakewell” chapters we’ve got Amelia and Malcolm, whom I’ve personally been really rooting for, but I digress. What I mean to say, this isn’t a straight-up romance following a single couple, but it’s a very romantic story still and maybe just a bit of soap opera, except in a viking-inspired fantasy land with dragons. A pretty entertaining one at that, my gripes with the slight mood whiplash notwithstanding.

I liked seeing Ollies come more into his own and let his sassy side show more and more, both with Eric and around other people. I really, really liked the exciting worldbuilding developments: between shamans and dragons and necromancy, there was never a dull moment in terms of all these discoveries. And the characters all remain really well fleshed-out. What the book is severely lacking, though, is proper editing. There are a lot of typos and awkward turns of phrase that scream “first draft,” and the narrative itself really begs to be tightened up. Because sometimes, it just goes off on tangents, or there are obvious filler/fluff scenes taking up too much space, and while there’s some great character work in those for the most part, it really messes with the pacing.

Such a wonderful winter fairytale with just the right balance of darkness and hope. It’s a Snow Queen retelling that starts off really close to the source material, though it does dig deeper into certain plot points and implications behind them, as well as generally fleshes out the characters. Then, gradually, more and more light twists are added to the narrative, turning it into its own fairytale-inspired story. Still a retelling, of course, but with its own unique flavor.

I really liked the interpretation of Gerta here, with her combination of naiveté and determination and the quiet strength she hones throughout her journey. Her relationship with Janna, the robber girl, was engrossing enough, though I think I expected just a bit more sharpness and bite from Janna. The titular animals were my absolute favorites, Mousebones the raven especially, and this version of Kai is someone I really, vindictively liked hating.

There’s a lot of northern folklore here lovingly woven around the fairy tale tropes, Finnish/Sámi for the most part, and it made the story especially enjoyable to me. I also, as usual, had great fun with Kingfisher’s dialogue and her charming wit. Every book of hers I read reminds me why she’s among my favorite authors.

Here comes yet another book that seemed so fun from the blurb yet ended up a complete miss. My book-picking game is clearly very off.

I did have some real fun with this one, at least—though not because of the things I expected to enjoy about it. Rather, despite them. Because see, when it comes to romance, I expect to be invested in the main couple, but here, these two characters just honestly baffled me. Beat especially (if someone’s blackmailing you with your family’s dirty laundry, idk, maybe getting the money from agreeing to a reality show that is almost guaranteed to dig into your family’s dirty laundry is… not the best move?). But honestly, both of them made so many weird choices and conclusions, especially about each other, and I really didn’t get how their brand of insta-love worked. They just confused me, both as individual characters and especially as a couple.

On the other hand, the whole plot with the tv show and reuniting the MCs’ moms’ band was pretty entertaining. Sometimes cheesy, sometimes slightly unhinged, but it was all good fun, and I honestly kept wishing it was at the forefront of the book more often. Both moms were hilarious, especially their banter when they ended up in a scene together, and their clashing personalities really gave those reality tv vibes. They made me laugh the way only mildly horrible yet occasionally well-meaning people can.

Still sad I didn’t get the type of romance I came from though.