In China in the world of Iron Widow, boys pilot large chrysalises, which are apparently robot-type bodies, to ward off monsters beyond the Great Wall. But they can't do it alone because the mental strain is too much, so every time a boy pilots the chrysalis, he has a co-pilot--a young female concubine who has already been conscripted to attend to the pilot's every need outside the form. Inside the machine, the likelihood of her death is near certain.

It is in this world that we meet Zetian, a young woman whose older sister was killed by one of these pilots. Zetian wants nothing more than revenge on that pilot, who is a decorated member of the armed forces. But even facing certain death, Zetian knows she can't live in the world she's been born into: extreme poverty, patriarchal abuse, disability due to forced foot binding, and servitude. With that history informing Zetian's decisions, she is at once a fully formed character and morally gray heroine throughout the book. Her decisions will not just impact her own future, but that of her family and lineage (though they don't appear to deserve any consideration), and the community around her. Zetian is a fascinating character; you can't help but experience this entire world through her lens, which includes the intentional killing of the pilot she targets.

But that's just the beginning of Zetian's story. She ends up paired with another male pilot, though this one has none of the rank or accolades of his counterparts due to his status as an confessed murderer of his own family members. Shimin has so many more layers to his story, from the reason for his killing to the treatment he has suffered at the hands of the government. 

Together with Zetian's wealthy friend Yihzi, Zetian and Shimin will take action and make decisions that will reshape the world in which they live. Zetian will learn how the misogynistic pilot system came to be, how it works, and what it will mean for the future of her society. 

My one main complaint involved the climactic battle at the end of the story. It was hard to picture what was happening, the location and scale seemed to be at odds for my imagination, so I found it difficult to follow the action at times. But that did not detract enough from the fascinating and challenging story being told. I couldn't put the book down as the story unfolded, and when the book was done, I was ready to pick up the sequel. 

As a non-gamer, I wasn't entirely sure what to expect when I started this book. A whole story set in a videogame company while they work on their upcoming release? It seemed like there might be some inside-baseball style references that could detract from my experience. But when a trusted friend recommended it, I was totally on board.

I'm so glad that I took the chance. Yes, there were some very gamer-specific references, specifically regarding the type of long-form games that I have never played. But, being married to someone who does, having friends who do, having a general sense of games and the culture surrounding them--all of those factors meant that the universe enhanced, rather than detracted, from the story. And I would venture to say that even those with a cursory understanding of fan culture without gamer spouses would be able to follow this world.  There were a lot of fun pop culture Easter eggs peppered throughout the story, which also helped me not only understand the universe, but where it connected to my own. 

As for the characters at the center of this particular universe? Cat was strangely endearing despite her inability to advocate for herself. She was so self-assured in her writing, but so lost in personal interactions. But that characterization ultimately makes sense the more you learn about how much of Cat's life is wrapped in losing herself in games. She literally thinks in dialogue trees at times and frankly, as someone who sometimes maps out full arguments in my head--same girl. 

I adored Andi, bristly, standoff nature and all. They were dealing with traumatic fallout from their past job, which informed so much of how they interacted with others. To be clear, it wasn't an excuse for rude behavior, and Cat was mostly good about calling Andi out when that would happen. But I must be a sucker for a grump because I wanted Andi to have everything they needed/wanted.

The one complaint I have is about the abruptness of the ending. The central conflict percolating beneath the surface of the story simmered for so long and then, to me, fizzled out. While

resolving the Andi/Brett/Carter/Jan conflict wasn't entirely necessary, having a single article "fix" things before an epilogue from 2 years later seemed too sudden for me

. That being said, it didn't detract from my enjoyment of the story, or the evolution of the relationship between Cat and Andi, which is really what matters. 

Going into this, just based on the description, I thought I was in for a funny, possibly silly, but mostly lighthearted story. What I did not expect was a story that was so deliberate in its pacing, so intimate in its relationship building, and so reverent in its treatment of the business of death. While I sometimes binge audiobooks, I found myself wanting to be as deliberate in my consumption of this one as it is in the story that unfolds.

Ezra is unlike any character I can remember. Although he has shades of similar main characters who can also interact with the dead (like Florence Day, my love from The Dead Romantics), Ezra is wholly his own unique character for so many reasons: his caretaking personality, his connection and devotion to his community, his feeling of isolation due to his "gift," and not least of all, his trans identity. All of these pieces of him are treated so lovingly and with such care, that they create a fully formed person who grounds the entire story, even when it threatens to lapse into the absurd (i.e., his mom running off with the Rabbi's wife).

And Jonathan, well, there's a reason that Ezra keeps questioning whether he "deserves" him. Jonathan is one of those characters who is very nearly too good to be true, but there was not one aspect of his characterization that felt forced, overdone, or unearned. The more you learn about Jonathan and his relationship to his deceased husband Ben, the more you understand why he makes specific choices with Ezra, particularly forcing communication rather than cutting and running when things are hard. 

Those are just the two main leads - this story is rich with well-developed friends (Ollie and Nina being particular standouts), family (Aaron and Becca bringing the love and frustration in the way that only siblings can), and community (particularly the rituals taking place at the Chapel).

I've read some really lovely books lately, many of them sticking with me in different ways. But I want to savor this story for a while, possibly picking up the paperback to experience it in a different medium. The audiobook was pitch perfect for the way I experienced this--Petey Gibson provides exactly the right tone for a book that demands moments of intense intimacy and moments of intense joy. 

I absolutely adored this and I can't wait to share it with others.

I absolutely adored this story of friendship, family, love, and learning to accept yourself, even when you think you've failed to meet expectations. This one is also a clever play on a couple of well-worn tropes: mistaken identity and friends-to-lovers. 

Farzan is such a lovely character; full of charm and unconditional love for all of those around him but with so little ability to give the same to himself. I really enjoyed experiencing his journey of self-acceptance alongside him, not least of all because it came with delicious descriptions of food along the way.

David is a wonderful counterbalance. Cool, but never cold, slightly aloof as a means of self-protection, his gradual evolution into the type of friend and partner that Farzan needed (and that he himself needed to accept others into his orbit) was deliberately paced and satisfying.

I also appreciated so much of the world-building that took place. I loved the cultural references, not only related to Farzan's Persian heritage, but the soul and personality of Kansas City. This story had a wonderful sense of community and place, which made the entire book a pleasure to experience. I look forward to seeking out more from Adib Khorram in the future.

This was so much more than a simple romance. This is really a story about family, both the one you're born with and the one you make. And above all, it's a love letter to the art of drag.

As a long-time fan of drag, I adored reading about Rex and Regina, and the care that Dominic Lim puts into explaining why drag queens choose to express themselves through this visual medium of clothes, wigs, and make-up. I enjoyed Rex articulating the desire to express more than one side of him, embracing the fluidity of the gender spectrum.

The entire Araneta family was an absolute hoot, particularly Rex's loving and hilarious mother. I really enjoyed the interaction between Rex and each of his family members because they all had something special to convey about how his character would develop over the course of the story.

I haven't talked about the love interest(s) at this point because that really was so secondary to the overall story of family, art, love, and acceptance. They were lovely additions and fun distractions, but the true love story was Rex Araneta rekindling his love of Regina and drag.

First, the pros. I love body diversity, particularly in romance. For better or worse, our bodies tend to be the first thing someone notices, so it rang true to have a FMC voice the desire to have any blind dates know that she was plus-sized to avoid the (unwarranted) disappointment. I loved that Haleigh was not the only plus-size character, as I read Jack's description as being a plus-size man, not to mention Haleigh's ability to swap clothes with her sister.

I also adored the cast of characters, from Haleigh's roommates to the aforementioned sister, to her various dates. All of them had some defining characteristics that made them unique and fit the story. 

As for the cons, they start and stop with the two competing love interests. It seemed reasonably clear which one of them was the end game, but I expected a longer competition, so to speak.

I really thought Haleigh's relationship with Brian ended too abruptly. They go from being compatible and having great conversations to him suddenly not liking to read or do anything fun? It just didn't ring true to me based on his previous character development.

Ultimately, I'm really torn on the final resolution.

Haleigh's relationship with Jack was borderline toxic. Although he was working on how he treats her during stressful situations, everything about his role in the dating scheme was manipulative - setting her up with someone he knew she'd hate, not listening to her when she said she didn't need him, only showing interest when someone else was involved. I had a hard time buying that this was her HEA.

Overall, I still enjoyed the book, and I really liked a lot of the characters. I just felt let down by the ending.

A caveat to start: Taming of the Shrew is my favorite Shakespeare comedy, and 10 Things I Hate About You is one of my all-time favorite movies. If anything, I was predisposed to love this homage, but there was always a chance of having my expectations too high.

It did not disappoint. I adored Evangeline as a FMC. Her independent nature, wit, intelligence, and resilience was so well written and demonstrated throughout the book. It was easy to appreciate how her personality was forged through mistreatment by the ton, but it was clear that the treatment only honed her strength. She was always willing to go for what she wanted, wasn't afraid to speak her mind, and provided a reprieve from regency customs and expectations.

And Gage...holy moly. He was such a fantastic match and I felt like he could not have been more perfect than if he was pulled from my own brain. Strong and independent, but never intimidated by Evangeline's own strength and wit. His lie of omission was obviously necessary to the story, but also done in a way that it was as defensable as it could be. I thought it was a really well crafted backstory that made you understand how the couple could recover from the third-act breakup you knew was coming. 

This is a perfect homage for any fan of Taming of the Shrew or 10 Things, or for anyone looking to dip their toe into a regency romance. 

I wanted to love this one more than I did. To get this out of the way, I like Lukas as a MMC. The clipped personality that warms up in the right circumstances was well-rendered. I found the relationship between him and Scarlett believable and well-developed.

I had a harder time with Scarlett. She was frustrating for a multitude of understandable reasons, and I wanted to warm to her more than I did. On one hand, I found her unwillingness to really do quality introspection for so much of the story difficult to enjoy. On the other hand, I totally get that the type of personal development she was undergoing is slow and difficult, but that doesn't make it easier to engage with.

I can't speak to specifics regarding the physical relationship between Lukas and Scarlett because I don't know a lot about BDSM and/or whether this relationship is a good or bad example of that particular world. As an outsider, it neither added nor distracted from their relationship and my investment in it. I did really enjoy them together overall, and I especially appreciated the resolution of the third-act breakup. The evolution of their relationship was believable and I did want to see them together.

I suspect a large aspect of my ambivalence toward the story is a matter of feeling too far removed from college to appreciate some of the story beats that are specific to college life (gossip, parties, cliques). But I still enjoyed it overall, and I completely understand if it hit for others more than it did for me.

This is a really tough story to rate. I adored the setting and world building. Only someone familiar with El Paso and that particular part of the world could understand the sense of place and personality that it has. At one point early in the story, there is a description of Christmas on the border that talks about sopapillas, tamales, the sisters of Loretto, and luminarias, all of which are so specific to that area that I have visceral sense memories of them from growing up there.

The story itself was interesting. I enjoyed the idea of magic appearing through generations of women honing their power. I liked the flashbacks to Nena's time in the past, learning to hone her magic and power. 

I wanted to enjoy Marta's portion of the story more than I did. I think my issue was how quickly the storyline seemed to resolve itself - or not. In some ways, it felt more like the story ended without any resolution to what was happening in Marta's case, despite the case and underlying issues being so paramount to who she was and why the development of her powers would be important.

Overall, I loved being transported back to an area so important to my life, and I enjoyed the beauty of the writing itself. I just wanted slightly more from the story.

When I grabbed this off my shelf to read on the plane, I did not expect to find myself staying up to finish it the same day, but that's exactly what happened.

We meet Phoebe in the middle of a difficult period. Her mostly estranged father has just died, she has to clean out the house that never felt like her home, all while finishing the dissertation that she never thought she'd be able to write. While she's trying to handle all of this solo (despite the best efforts of her delightful younger brother), she fixates on her weirdly attractive next door neighbor who just happens to carry plastic sheeting into his garage in the wee hours of the morning while covered in some sort of dark liquid...

Sam is the perfect foil for someone like Phoebe. He doesn't share her fascination with serial killers or true crime, but he understands her in a way that makes her walls go up higher and stronger to keep him out. As we learn more about Phoebe's history with her parents, as well her struggle to have her scholarship acknowledged and respected, the walls she built up over time make sense.

I loved that Phoebe was allowed to be flawed, allowed to be kind of crappy to people, and that she wasn't perfect by the end. She stayed true to herself throughout the story, and having her happy ending felt earned, if slightly rushed. But this was a really fun story to experience, particularly if you share Phoebe's passion for true crime and pop culture references.