The Perfect Mother promised high emotions. I thought it would more than deliver when in the very first chapter Dawn left her front door open in her unfamiliar new neighbourhood and went out walking. I'd hoped it was setting the tone but while the crushing levels of desperation resulted in great moments of tension and bad decisions, it wasn't quite that. However it was an incredibly easy read to be swept up in.

That said, while the strain of both Dawn and Evelyn's choices are brought to painful life, the narrative doesn't quite do it justice. The shift to more perspectives is a fantastic choice that really breathes life into the book. However it's also where an important character is sidelined after so much build-up, and a shocking cliffhanger. To deny us that character's reaction, that rip-the-bandaid unraveling, then, is a disappointing prioritisation of shock value over narrative thrust. And it's not the only instance. A chapter ends on the promise of a confession only for the catharsis of that character's emotional fallout that has been building for decades to be neglected and it's the last time we see him too. Arguably the pivotal reveal is given this treatment too.

Moodie has spent so much effort in crafting cliffhangers and gotchas. And they really, truly are excellent. But neglects the payoff. It's unfortunately likely the reason why a chapter has dialogue all in italics. It's a weird, misplaced emphasis and its weirdness jars you out of the story rather than engages you. What a pity. There's a great story here. It could have been magificent but i's just not quite supported well enough for that. Unfortunately not the only place in which not enough care was taken. Mispellings are all but inevitable and easily forgivable but the first five pages of a chapter being an entire previous chapter is far harder to overlook.

Thanks to iRead Book Tours and Desiree Moodie. I leave this review voluntarily.

A Vampire in the Bathhouse is so charming and funny, even if over-reliant on that one screen tone. From its comical cover to the thought put into its contents page and its cotton candy bed, there’s a lot of care on display here. The characters are all so expressive in their own ways. Especially poor, put-upon Sakura. He’s so beautifully deadpan. I love how over he is with all of the supernatural shenanigans suddenly thrust upon him. His exasperation with Luka is funny and their friction is enjoyable, with moments of genuine affection that keep things light. But they were outshone by the adorable Umenosuke and his new pal, the demon familiar Pequeño. His immediate curiosity about this stranger makes a welcome contrast to Sakura. The surprise stars of the manga, they are a delight. They’re also where the manga is most focused – or, less kindly, where the manga is least confused.

It’s easy to see why Luka is so fond of where he’s ended up – both with the Full Moon Baths, then with the town itself. But even in those moments A Vampire in the Bathhouse crumbles under its own weight. Luka’s arrival, splashing down into the spa, is pure rom-com. And from that awkward but funny meet-cute it stumbles from romance plot point to romance plot point. Sakura is unable to go to his brother’s sports day so Luka steps up and into the family dynamic. They have what can only be seen as a date. A mystery threat from Luka’s past rears its head and of course he’s the perfect complication thrown in to be the third point in a love tangle.

A Vampire in the Bathhouse is not a romance. And it can’t help but disappoint because of that. All of these romance beats. All of this build-up. All of it unresolved. Little helped by the abruptness of the ending. And so the story hangs like a too-small coat on a too-big hanger. However, it was hilarious, and I’m curious to see what this mangaka will make with more time and experience.

With thanks to Netgalley and Kodansha, I leave this review voluntarily.

 BulankinaKa’s art is beautifully expressive while remaining clean and simple to follow. The bright and vivid colours are eye catching and are sure to be appealing to children. Sommer’s text is likewise, packing an emotional weight in a short space. Together they highlight the joy of Pepper and the girl’s life together, made bittersweet by her realisation that they’re only going to have a little time together. 

It is sweet and heartwarming to watch her learn the joys of fostering even when it means having to say good bye to Pepper. Her coming to terms with the loss and her ways of finding meaning in her work with fostering is lovely. And the book delivers this message of loving and letting go in such a reassuring and gentle way for its young readers. 

I appreciate the inclusion at the end of a short walkthrough of the foster process. It goes beyond the scope of the story and providing insight into the process is a nice touch for its readers to be able to discuss. 

My one criticism is that the blurb makes it sound like the focus is going to be on Pepper when it’s the unnamed girl. Pepper being the sole character on the cover reinforces this. It’s a strong story on its own merit but I do have a pet peeve for books that mislead audience expectation. Even so Foster’s Leash is an informative introduction to fostering while still being an emotional and uplifting story that’s easy to read.
Thanks to iRead Book Tours and Sarah Sommer. I leave this review voluntarily.