Jake tries to make a tough call, but it's too personal for him to stay careful. Ax does something for Jake that crosses a line. Jake's nightmares are getting worse, and his waking life isn't much better in this one.

Jake has to choose between his father's life and his brother's life, and the stress is breaking him. Most of the books have a casual mention of nightmares, but Jake's books are the ones which most frequently describe what they were. I get the feeling that the details of them are what most disturbs him, not just that they keep happening. He also realizes that he understands his great-grandfather a little better, specifically the part of him that was a WWII veteran.

This book deals with themes (and depictions) of kidnapping, interrogation, torture, murder, and lots of depictions of ptsd. The books never say that the Animorphs have ptsd, but everything about these books scream that they have it (or at least the hollywood version) and it's getting worse.

Rachel has an accident in starfish morph and has to come to terms with herself. I like this exploration of Rachel's personality. It could have been cheesy, but it crafts a story where both parts of her have something she needs

The dynamics with the other Animorphs play out in several very interesting ways. Specifically I'm thinking of her approaches to Marco and Tobias (including their reactions), and how Cassie is the first to figure out what's going on. Erek's role is strange here, the plot needs him around but he seems more confused by humans than makes sense for someone his age.

The Magpie Lord is sometimes dark, frequently sexy, and overall just what I was looking for. Crane and Day work well as quasi-reluctant partners overcoming a traumatic family history to unravel the dark events surrounding Crane's family home.

This was a very fun read. Paranormal romance is a surprisingly dark genre, and though this particular entry doesn't have vampires or werewolves, it accomplishes a similar level of violence by also being a murder mystery with curses and general magic. It has smartly used power differentials... and consent. Enthusiastic, affirmative consent.

The magpie motif makes its presence felt without being predictable, and we receive part of an explanation that makes me hope we'll gradually learn more of Crane's family history as this series continues. The mechanics of magic receive enough of an explanation in between the main action to feel developed, implying more to be explored later. 

Don't skip the Interlude with Tattoos at the end of the book. It continues the romance while also establishing the state of Stephen and Crane's relationship after the events of the main book.

*I received a free review copy in exchange for an honest review of this book.

Tales of Mundane Magic: Volume Two keeps a lot of the fun and wonder from Vol 1, while expanding Gertie's and Bridget's world to new destinations, challenges, and dangers. We get more of a sense of magic's place in this world, and it isn't all benign.

There's a subtle shift between Volume One and Volume Two: Gertie and Bridget feel a little older, a little more mature but still definitely kids. Part of that is that they've changed (they're growing up, gaining magical and non-magical mastery), and part of it is that we get the beginnings of a set of antagonists. It's not some grand Big Bad, but it's also clearly not trying to be, and it works well. It's perhaps better to say that in Volume One there were people in their lives with different purposes and goals from them but they mostly co-existed, and here we start to have people with conflicting purposes, making them get in each other's way. It's a small change, but I like it.

Their problems get bigger (some of them are pretty dangerous this time), and the girls definitely have a more serious air when figuring out how to solve them. Before there was some pretty serious stuff too, but it had the sense that they didn't know how much danger they were in. Now they know a little better, but they're still excited and confident. It keeps a lot of the fun feeling from the first book while also letting them mature as people. Where the first book felt like a lot of random events with a few connecting threads, this collection feels more focused (or maybe it's that there was more room for complex narratives since volume one had the basics handled). The three-part vacation sequence is my favorite narrative, with the middle portion as my favorite story in the entire book (Gertie And Bridget Go To The Beach). 

An Absolutely Remarkable Thing is a first-contact story that is resolutely positive amidst anxiety, exploring fame, betrayal, and media spin in an information vacuum around a strange global event. The Carls are weird, the Dream is fantastic.

It’s a celebration of how weird and wonderful humans are, mixed with a sadness and anxiety that 1) not everyone sees it and 2) maybe those people are right. It’s ultimately hopeful, but it has an anxious and winding road to get there. The premise is wonderful and bizarre, there’s a lot of fun and clever things, and a very strong message of the collective good that we can do when we work together to solve problems, even very weird problems.

The tone is generally upbeat but this isn't a light book. It's about a turning point, a global tragedy, xenophobia, and how people react to these kinds of things. It's also feels determined to say that while not everything will be okay, how we choose to react in the aggregate can make a huge difference, for good or for ill. It does all this while staying laser-focused on one person's story and I think it pulls it off well.

This was a stressful read because a lot of it is about someone having a lot of things to be concerned about, and then being anxious about even more things because that’s how anxiety works. While that made for a stressful reading experience, it also made it very relatable. The mixture of frank delivery and the narrator assuming that I, the reader, lived in the version of history that she did, one where these events happened, left the feeling that I was in suspense, and the author knew I’d be in suspense, but the narrator of the story did not. It’s far from the first book to do this, but it added to the theme of anxiety that permeates the book. It’s also very much a book about fame, how no one is really ready for it, and how much harder it makes it to be a person, to feel at home in your skin once you’re well-known enough.

I love all the stuff with the Dream. The focus is managed so that while people in the book are freaking out pretty much constantly over everything, the reader always has a fresh mystery, some new facet to explore. 

It’s a good book, it’s a weird book, I liked it and I definitely recommend it. I hope there’s a sequel because I want to find out what happens next.

Long Way Down is haunting and ponderous, dominating thought in an endless urgent moment. It slowly builds each link in a chain of interpersonal violence and murder stretching into the past on the longest elevator ride of Will's young life, demanding reflection.

It makes the most of its stripped-down poetic structure to build and examine the sense of urgency in Will’s plan for revenge. The rules are a litany, a scaffold upon which the rest of the narrative hangs. The way the poem titles both establish the tone of each page and are themselves part of the narrative is very effective. It is a plain retelling of a web of violence and death, counting up a few decades of the results from following the rules for revenge, showing Will his future by showing him the past.

This was a pretty quick read, but the structure and subject matter make every page linger. The time noted every few pages builds a sense of time stretching, as too many thoughts fit into each moment, but they also pass very quickly.

It is unfortunate that this book will likely be timeless, its subject matter relevant and evergreen, but I’m glad that it’s here and that I had the chance to read it.

Book CWs for discussions of murder and gun violence.

Dread Nation is fantastic alternate history; refined, resourceful and kick-ass. The zombies are a backdrop for explorations of racism, colorism, cultural genocide, religious zealotry, and sexism, shot through with a mystery thriller/escape story.

The characters are amazing. Jane is calculatedly blunt and extremely savvy, I hope to get more of Jackson in the sequels. The gradual unveiling of Jane's backstory is satisfying, making me think I know what's happening, repeatedly, then showing just one more thing. Jane makes a lot of snap judgement about people as part of her survival strategy and I appreciate how she isn't always right, but she's close enough often enough to get by and keep going.

This whole book needs cws/tws for racism, sexism, colorism, genocide, murder... It manages to be pretty upbeat overall, but it definitely isn't light reading. YMMV on whether it'll be a relaxing read, but it's very well done.

I like zombie stories, the best ones are more about the people left alive than about the actual undead, and this one lives up to that legacy. It's smart social critique, including extrapolating from the very real existence of schools for carrying out cultural genocide of Native Americans to assume that, given the hypothetical existence of zombies in the late 19th century, America might take the opportunity to try and "reeducate" former slaves and their children in a similar manner.

Bruja Born is about clinging to love gone sour, plans gone rotten, and the strength required to accept new realities and move on. The young brujas are fierce, brave, and naive in ways that make them feel like the children they are. A good sequel.

The sibling dynamic between Lula, Alex, and Rose feels complex and genuine. Even though Rose hasn't been a pov character yet, she feels like a full character in context with Alex and Lula, which can be tricky to pull off.

I get stressed out by stories which have extended sequences where someone is lying about something huge, and that's a driving factor in most of this book, so it was difficult for me to read. It's a common trope, so that's mostly a thing I had to adjust to, and not a fault with the story. Given that, I still like this one and I was satisfied by the ending.

My one concern is that when reading this book, it feels like I'm missing information, like there's more I should have known coming in. After finishing the book, the supplemental material indicated that a group encountered there, the Thorne Hill Alliance first appears in The Vicious Deep, also by this author, so I'll skip over to that series and see if that addresses this feeling. If it feels like something was said elsewhere because it literally was in a different, earlier book, that's fine. If it's because this book vaguely gestures at world-building without putting enough detail in, that would be a negative for me.

I must say, Zoraida knows how to write a cliffhanger, I'm itching to read the next book.

Sorcerer to the Crown is understated and witty, precise in its language, a commentary on colonialism, imperialism, sexism, racism, and power through the lens of an England rife with sorcery but slowly losing its magic. It was a joy to read.

I love how carefully and precisely this book portrays social injustices while ensuring that the dialogue among the point-of-view characters resolves on the side of understanding that they are injustices. In this case, the main two are racial prejudices and discrimination couched as concerns over someone is "English" enough, and gender discrimination portrayed as a blanket ban on women practicing magic due to a concern that such power would "overwhelm" their frail frames. They are not only handled well, but showing at least one of them to be injustices in need of a correction is central to the plot.

The fairies in general and the familiars in particular are shown well, with enough similarity to human thoughts that their motives are understandable, but with a distinctly separate moral sense (not that humans are a monolith in this book) that marks them as wholly different creatures at crucial junctures within the story.

I'll try to keep up with this series, and I definitely recommend it to anyone who likes fantasy.

Labyrinth Lost fits an epic journey into a story of personal growth and family strength. It feels like the first step into a rich & dynamic world, and I'm excited to spend more time there. Agosto and Madra are my favorites, I hope to see them again.

Every scene felt so purposeful, like it contained precisely what it ought so I felt settled about what happened while also craving the next chapter. I like the dynamic between Alex, Nova, and Rishi, it's a well-executed relationship triangle where every connection feels complex and complete. Nova is just the right amount of mysterious and brooding, and Rishi feels like a good fit for Alex. That isn't settled, obviously, since it's just the start, but I like how there's no reservation about Alex having feelings for both of them. I especially like how they are framed as being different kinds of feelings, but I'll watch to see how or if that changes as the series continues.

I love Agosto and Madra, they're such different but powerful leaders in a very taxing situation. I love stories about the Fae, and this take on the Underhill concept was nice. Their plights felt like natural tests of Alex's confidence and power, so that the conclusion made sense and the display of power felt appropriate. Rishi's fake wings were a cute touch, something that made her sudden entrance really feel unplanned and heartfelt.