wardenred's reviews
836 reviews

I actually enjoyed this far more than Boyfriend Material, the first in the series this one spins off from, although damn, I had to suspend my disbelief more times than with some fantasy novels. I’m kind of concerned that neither Alexis Hall nor any of the beta readers and editors this book might have had know how muting works on phones. Also, a big part of the plot is the MC getting a concussion as part of the inciting incident, and like… Yeah, sure, the type of accident he has should result in one, except as someone who’s had two concussions, one nastier than the other, I failed to recognize a single symptom. Not that he even displayed any symptoms, short of getting tired more easily, but only when it was convenient for the plot. So that constantly took me out of the story, and I had to struggle to shove myself back in.

Outside of that, this was fun. The premise is that a store manager is trying to convince his boss to please not fire him and his team (that includes characters like a guy who keeps ruining expensive mattresses and stuff, but he’s got a grandmother to take care of, so Sam, the MC, doesn’t have the heart to fire them). The attempt, taking place in one of the chain’s stores, kind of escalates. An accident involving a shower cabin happens. And then the MC ends up concussed, a misunderstanding results in the doctor and his boss both believing he’s got amnesia too, and since there’s no one who can come get him and take care of him, Jonathan, the boss in question, steps in. Probably to avoid getting sued, but also maybe, just maybe, because he’s a semi-decent human being underneath all the grump, although that’s not something Sam considers just yet. And then they end up as roommates at Jonathan’s mansion, and Jonathan’s family keeps showing up assuming they’re boyfriends, and Sam really tries to use the entire weird situation to protect his job and his team, but it just all keeps getting weirder and messier. Oh, and there’s a fair amount of Christmas party planning involved, because while it’s not immediately apparent, this is actually a holiday romance.

There are lots of crazy shenanigans here, intersperse with pretty touching and heartfelt moments as the two characters get to know each other better and start to care far more than they ever wanted to. I did feel a little cheated out of the promised grumpy/sunshine dynamic, because while Jonathan is an exceptional 10/10 grump, I didn’t find Sam particularly sunshiny. He’s mostly kind, yes, and has a strong sense of what’s fair and what’s not, and he’s not bad with people, but also not always pleasant to be around and has a decidedly mean streak. I feel like characters that embody the “sunshine“ part of that trope shouldn’t lash out quite so much at their grump counterpart, no matter the reasons. I did like Sam and relate to certain aspects of his personality a lot, it’s just not really that specific trope. 

I liked a lot of the side characters, especially Agnieszka the housekeeper, and pretty much everyone in Jonathan’s family, and also, the lovely, ugly cat (reminded me of one of mine). There was plenty of super funny banter, even if sometimes it bordered on a tad too mean-spirited for me. Loved how the Christmas tree thing was handled, and all those points where Sam and Jonathan’s clashes resulted in them actually explaining and understanding their conflicting points, and that last chapter before the epilogue (damn that one reveal, so heartbreaking). Also, this is one of those instances where I feel the regional accent was really well handled in writing.

Would recommend to those who like wacky romcoms with lots of bickering and are more skilled than I am at ignoring the glaringly underresearched parts. 

The story here picks up exactly where the first installment in the series left off, no breaks, but it does fill very much like a separate sequel, not just the second half of the same book. The stakes here are definitely higher and the characters have to deal with more external conflicts. I was really worried for them both more than once, and there were moments that gave me a lump in my throat. But just like in the first book, the narrative here exudes so much kindness and hope. Shit happens, but both characters constantly have someone who has their back through it, and they get to emerge happy on the other side.

I really loved the growth both Alex and Eli go through, especially in relation to their developing relationship. They do so well confronting their own and each other’s flaws and nipping problems in the bud. That one scene where they consciously decide how they’re going to tackle arguments? Chef’s kiss. I actually read it twice. Healthy communication is my catnip, especially when it’s done this specific way: not as something that 100% comes naturally to everyone involved, but as something the character have to and want to put in the work to achieve.

Once again, I really appreciated the way disability and mental health were handled. The found family vibes from the team warmed my heart, the domestic scenes were so cozy, and Hawk remains the best doggo. The cat got kind of lost behind everything, though, and that’s my single complaint: I wanted more cat!

From the subtitle and some of the reviews I’ve seen, I expected a more or less even mixture of heavy life stuff and dark humor. There were, however, very few pages that made me smile. For the most part the book put me in a melancholy mood and made me feel sorry for most of the people I was reading about. I did recognize the humor and vibed with it, though, even if I didn’t find it funny. What I mean is, I’ve got a bunch of stuff, like entire parts of my life, that I never talk about much because when I used to retell those parts as what I thought were fun anecdotes, it always made for awkward moments and shocked people and me slowly realizing that instead of something humorous I’ve said something really morbid. The humor in here is much like that—likely super funny if you’ve been there, but few else get to laugh—and it was really, really relatable to me.

All in all, this is a rather thorough exploration of one family’s many, many issues, with a focus on the author’s father who may or may not have committed suicide and her complicated, difficult grief for him. All the dysfunction is portrayed with a lot of compassion, and the art and prose blend very well together, though at times I did feel like the choice of words was a bit… pretentious, maybe? But it also made me pause and squint at some not-so-familiar words, and thus focus more on specific moments of the narrative, so in hindsight, I rather appreciate the effect. Altogether it made for a relatively quick yet not easy read that’s going to stick with me for some time.

This book has an absolutely kickass premise: former big damn villains band together for one last job—to deal with an organization of religious fanatics who are far worse than necromancers, demonologists, vampires, and pirate queens. When there are no heroes willing to tackle the new evil, why not turn to monsters instead, right?

I was really excited for this story, especially since it started off pretty strong. The prologue painted a vivid and intriguing picture of the “before.“ The first appearance of the fanatics showcased their horribleness nicely. The scene where Dalia sought out Maven to start the process of getting the gang back together was so well done, with great dialogue, hints of dark humor, twists woven neatly into the narrative—it had it all. My excitement just kept growing.

And then the rest of the book happened. :(

I don’t mean to say it was all terrible or anything, but really, so few parts of the book live up fully to its own beginning. The obligatory “getting everyone together one by one“ part dragged something awful. I usually like these parts in such stories! I loved the same part in The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi, and in Kings of the Wyld, and in Sarah Beth Durst’s The Bone Maker. Here, I just couldn’t wait for it to end and the real action start. The problem for me was, I think, that while the villainous characters coming together were fun, each of them separately, the dynamic between them just didn’t give those “we used to share everything, then we ended up far apart, now we’re coming back together as changed people with the same old habits“ vibes the other book I’ve mentioned have in abundance. Yes, there were occasional mentions of past exploits, but the way the characters acted and talked, they could as well be just coming together for the first time.

The adventure itself definitely had its cool moments, but again, the interaction between characters was constantly lacking something to keep me invested. They were all cool and badass and evil to the core in ways that at the very least started out fun. But they just didn’t work together in the ways I expected them to. I suppose it actually makes sense, what with them being very definitely villains, not to be confused with vaguely well-meaning morally grey types. But I’m a fan of the “Even Evil Has Loved Ones“ trope, I wanted a corrupt, awful, villainous found family, lol.

It also didn’t help that the promised humor all but left the building before the first act was through, and there was so much violence that didn’t add anything to the story. Utterly repetitive scenes that seemingly existed only to remind me that this was a grimdark book. Very dark. Much grim. Just in case I was beginning to have any doubts, you know.

Amidst all this, there was some cool action, some fun character moments, and some really excellent worldbuilding. I liked all the demonology a lot. But, eh. The beginning set too high a standard, and now I kind of really, really want to read the book I thought this one would be. Not enough to commit to writing it myself, though. Definitely not enough. Not going to even go there. Don’t ask me why I’m keeping my fingers crossed, it’s none of your business.

Much like with the first book in the series, I enjoyed the combination/juxtaposition of a historical setting with historical problems and a rather modern style. There’s something so quirky and fun about how the author handles it. I also absolutely lived for all the appearances of the characters from the first part. Good thing there are so many! I loved seeing how Beth and Gwen carried on in the aftermath of their happy ending, and their parents, and Alfie and Meredith (though I wish there were more scenes with Meredith actually being there).

That said, the actual main romantic storyline sadly didn’t grip me at all. :( I liked both Bobby and James as separate characters, but their romance didn’t work for me very well. From the blurb, I expected enemies to lovers, but honestly, they weren’t so much enemies as two people critically allergic to communication. I think they both thought the communication was the real enemy? Seriously. They spent such a big chunk of the book trying to talk and mutually ruining each attempt, and then suddenly things progress so quickly. And then James just keeps physically running away from every problem they predictably have, and I don’t know, it just got so tiresome after some point. The main thing I always want from romance as to see two characters make each other’s lives better. Here, all too often I felt like the opposite was happening, but the way the narrative was constructed also stubbornly presented this mess as cute, romantic, and worth rooting for. Sorry, it was not.

Not a bad read, but less fun for me than the first book in the series. I think I didn’t connect with either of the leads enough, especially Jordan. With Astrid, I was at least already somewhat invested since she was such a prominent character in the previous installment, and I did find the aftermath of the arc she had there and the continuing development of her relationship with her mother pretty interesting. Though at the same time I feel like more could be done with the last one.

The overall plot with the inn renovation was pretty cute, and I found the initial animosity between Astrid and Jordan kind of entertaining. But the way they progressed from it to dating was somehow off for me—not in some bad way, more in the “it didn’t click for me“ way. Something about the pacing being kind of rocky, I think. There were definitely a few nice moments that I liked reading about, such as the movie scene, but overall, I just didn’t feel super invested in the romance. And unlike the first book that had a stronger B-plot and a more developed cast of characters, here there was little to focus on outside of the main storyline.

Speaking of the underdeveloped cast, it felt kind of weird that even the leads from the previous book felt rather flat. I barely recognized Delilah and Claire. Even the town itself had somehow less character. Honestly the only cast member who consistently had me smiling and invested when she was on the page was Iris. So I guess despite this book being a bit of a disappointment, I’ll still pick up the next one, since Iris is the MC in it.

I was pulled in by the very beginning of the book, but then as I progressed through it, it got harder and harder to read. I kept noticing small inconsistencies here and there, and I really didn’t like the tone the author took when talking about her mother’s mental illness. I understand that taking care of a schizophrenic relative is a hard toll on the family and that the perspective of the caretakers’ is important in its own way. But there were comments and descriptions that at least bordered on ableist, and it didn’t sit well with me.

So I took a break from reading and did what I probably should have done sooner: went online to see what other people were saying. Pretty much the first thing I found were the goodreads reviews from the author’s brother and his wife where they claim the book’s more fiction than truth and point out various parts that are embellished, misinterpreted, or outright invented. They also say that the rest of the family wasn’t consulted about the memoir, or asked for input or even consent.

All of that left me with a sour test in my mouth. I don’t think I want to continue reading.

Too Bright to See is probably my favorite middle grade book ever, so I cracked open this other novel by Kyle Lukoff with sky-high expectations. Alas, the book didn’t live up to them. It definitely has a plethora of touching, soulful moments, and the whole subject is so extremely important. I love that there are kids’ books now that talk so candidly and openly about gender, identity, sexuality, etc. There are a few scenes that are going to stick with me for a long time. I loved the hopefulness and the eventual queer joy of it all.

At the same time, I had trouble connecting with the story because Annabelle, the narrator, seemed to be written in a rather inconsistent way. She’s supposed to be 11 or 12, and sometimes I felt she acted that age, but there were some super large chunks of the book where I’d peg her for an 8-year-old or so. And then there was one specific moment where she demonstrated absolute wonders of maturity and emotional regulation that was really cool but also kind of out of character. All those inconsistencies in the MC’s portrayal really took me out of the story.

As for other characters, I really wanted to like Bailey—I always want to like nonbinary characters, I’m biased and hungry for representation, lol. But until pretty late in the book when they did have some complex and relatable moments, they felt less like a character in their own right and more like a narrative instrument that was there to (sometimes) catalyze change and (a lot of the time) educate. In the same vein, a lot of the kids in Annabelle and Bailey’s class often came across as just mouthpieces for specific ideas, or reasons for their teacher to talk about specific ideas. And those ideas are very good and important! But this approach sometimes made the whole thing feel less like a story and more like an educational pamphlet with plot.

The character who fascinated me the most was Annabelle’s dad, and I’m kind of sad that, by virtue of this being a kids’ book, his character arc got so incredibly condensed and rushed. I would love to read an adult novel with him or someone like him as the protagonist. 

This was quite a popcorn read for me: I just kept turning pages wanting to know what’s next, and even though the story isn’t particularly fast-paced, it felt like it took up a lot fewer pages than it actually did. I think something about the author’s writing style just clicked with my brain, making even the parts I was meh/uncertain about easy to follow and process. So I’m definitely going to check out more of his books, especially since some of them have been getting recced to me for ages!

As much as it was easy to read, though, I’m sad to say I don’t expect this particular book to be super memorable to me in the long run. I did appreciate the twist on the slasher trope/subgenre, but I think I expected a deeper dive into the titular teenage slasher’s feelings, reasons, and motivations. What I got was pretty surface-level, I feel, and really a lot was just taken care of by the supernatural element (that was in many ways confusing and under-explained). That might be another reason I read this so quickly—there was nothing really urging me to pause and dwell. On one hand, this kind of effect actually matches the source material well. We don’t really watch slasher movies for the deep, elaborate character arcs, do we? On the other hand, idk, I just wanted more character-driven moments, I guess, and I got so few (though Tolly and Amber’s relationship was pretty touching).

What I really, really enjoyed about the book was the strong sense of setting. Lamesa, Texas was vivid on the page through and through, lifelike and claustrophobic. I think I read somewhere that the author was inspired by his own experience with growing up in a similar place, and it sure shows—in a good way!

Such a lovely read! It goes right on my special “awful unlikable characters find love and become better people in the process“ shelf. It’s not a very big shelf, but I love it dearly. Oh, and also, it’s a wonderful cozy romantasy with some really nice worldbuilding—I’d love to see it explored further in some slightly higher-stakes stories, by the way. All these gods!

It’s essentially a story about a bitter, hissy black cat of a man who clings to the past and the negativity and keeps his golden retriever certainly-not-a-boyfriend at arm’s length, pushing him away and hurting them both—until it all gets too much and he tries to run away from it all. Except there’s a goddess conveniently ready to meddle, and so this is where the story more or less starts, instead of ending.

It is also a story about resolving long-standing misunderstandings in a painfully, beautifully realistic way. An exchange of profuse apologies and detailed explanations isn’t a culmination of the journey, it’s more like the next step after the inciting incident. What comes after is a long road with intermediary victories and failures, mistakes made and fixed by all parties involved, and, eventually, lots of personal growth. The kind that doesn’t change who you are, just how you act and think.

I admit at some points of the story I was vaguely uncomfortable with the dynamics between the leads. While I liked Tam’s specific brand of being an unlikable asshole in terms of reading about him, I felt sometimes that maybe Nicolau was giving him too many chances, letting him in too much even when asserting boundaries. Maybe, just maybe, Nicolau would in fact be better off without him. But then the story kept progressing, the characters kept developing and opening up, and it became so clear how both of them had flaws, and how those flaws clashed and matched, and what both of them were getting out of their existing arrangements—as well as what sort of changes both of them craved. The more I got to know these two, the harder it was not to root for them.

Also! Just like A Taste of Iron and Gold (despite being a very different book in tone), this one has a vibe of a fanfic written for a fandom that only existed in Alexandra Rowland’s head, and I’m so here for that. Those are the best vibes.