Blood of Hercules by Jasmine Mas

Mas slams it out of the park once again.

I swear her books are laced with my particular brand of crack, because I can never put them down and they scratch a very specific itch. The kind that makes you ignore all your responsibilities and lose track of time until you’re suddenly blinking at the last page wondering how you got there.

It’s hard to find books that perfectly capture bleak nihilism balancing against stellar comedic timing, but Jasmine does it every time. Her characters (especially the FMCs) are such raw, unflinching representations of various mental health states and their coping mechanisms under stress. But it’s presented in such a perfect package of chaos and charm that you can’t help but laugh at the relatable comedy of their never-ending misfortunes. It’s the kind of humor that shouldn’t be funny, but absolutely is.

Add in all my favorite goodie bag of tropes: slow burn, reverse harem, bleak settings, trauma bonds, toxic masculinity, and complex interpersonal dynamics. Chef's kiss. Absolute perfection.

I can’t wait for book two. I’ll just hold out my empty rattling bowl begging for scraps until October.