In the space of its first chapter Mo’s love for her dad is spotlighted so well that it carries through his absence for most of the book. Mo’s determination to prove herself to him and foray into Hollywood are fantastic. The action is exciting and fun and she was so easy to cheer for. I really appreciated that her attempts to improve for the auditions led her to another style of martial arts, one that took her on a journey through her family tree, into a language and culture that she was estranged from. It’s a fascinating mystery too and I was so eager to learn more about it. 

That said, for me the cast is one of the book’s best strengths. Even in her dad’s absence the shape of their relationship is so clear and it’s heartbreaking to watch her try to grapple with that. With who he is and who she thought he was. And her more fraught relationship with her mom was really touching as they found common ground and began to understand each other better. 

I loved Nacho, even if not his nickname. He was a great friend and their plotting together was great. The same goes for the wider cast. His gramps was so fun, and caring. The glimpse into who Dax really is was lovely though a little rushed. But I appreciate that it gave depth to most of its characters. I also loved this with one of the antagonists who I did really feel for. 

It’s not a perfect book though. I did cringe at a mention of a historical figure who I really hope wasn’t meant to be James Barry. Towards the end it was quite rushed in comparison with the rest of the book. The tension was great but felt cut short. But ultimately these are slight issues in a fun, and excellent, action and adventure book. I look forward to seeing what else Chan writes. 

Thanks to Goddess Fish Promotions and A.Y. Chan. I leave this review voluntarily. 

Dear Hades is a fun romp. The revival of heroes and monsters from Greek myth is a really interesting mystery, and the not-so-subtle subterfuge of Ty and Medusa’s dates are fantastically zany (even if they stretch the credulity of the chat fiction format). But they aren’t. From the moment they make contact there’s a sense of relief for them. They’re well suited and that’s readily apparent. I really loved how sweet and hopeful they were. It provided a nice break between those zany shenanigans. 

I adored a certain two characters coming together too. They weren’t an obvious pair but despite being in the background they were almost as lovely to watch as Ty and Medusa. A surprising strength of the book is its quiet little character moments. I literally clutched at my chest when the shade showed up. It was beautiful. 

However characters who weren’t in the spotlight were often one note. And all through the book there was tension between its pop culture depictions of the characters and deep cut nerdiness about the mythology. However the end of the book took to dumping on them even as it paid lip service to differing interpretations. It soured my enjoyment. But it wasn’t the only element to do that. The last time we see Ty and Medusa is in direct contrast to how their relationship is last described. That wouldn’t be bad, per se. But it brings into stark relief how much of the development of their relationship takes place off-page. 

Thanks to iRead Book Tours, Alyssa Roat and Hope Bolinger. I leave this review voluntarily.

 I love the contrast of styles that Thunder 3 promises and it does not disappoint. The retro style of the Small Three to the realism of the other universe and the futurism of the mecha breathe so much life into the worlds. I love The Wizard of Oz (1939) but like many such stories the strange other world very quickly becomes the normal world for the audience. Thunder 3 avoids that – to its benefit. This world always feels at odds with the Small Three, through both the variety of styles and the pacing of their introduction. It’s as much as journey of discovery for the reader as it is the characters. 

Unfortunately I found them wanting. There isn’t much characterisation beyond one characteristic. Especially for two of the three. Though I do appreciate that they’re quite cartoonish. Futaba did surprise me. In quite a few ways. I hadn’t expected her to be quite so young. Or to be so saccharinely Hallmark – too good, too pure for this world. Thankfully the shift in genre made this bearable and her guilelessness became fantastically funny in the face of the threats (or lack thereof) bearing down on her. And I’m pleasantly surprised at the prospect that she isn’t just going to be a MacGuffin to be saved. 

The constant exclamations of the Small Three as “anime!” is tiring, however. It undercuts the stakes. Futaba was snatched up immediately, and they get to go viral. There is genuine menace to her kidnappers and I wish that had been sustained. I do really like the use of a different font to alienate and distance them, but, again, that undermines them as it’s quite hard to read. 

I’m nonetheless still really intrigued by this series. The Small Three’s discoveries about themselves and the way their cartoon physics interacts with the world excites me. 

Thanks to NetGalley and Kodansha for this review copy. I leave this review voluntarily. 

 I’ve always been enchanted and enthralled by Catherine Fisher’s worlds, but none like this. The fog shrouded, starlit town of Starspill seeped into my thoughts whenever I put the book down. The writing can be so wonderfully evocative and sensory, and it’s gloriously atmospheric – as magical as it is mysterious, from setting to characters. It feels like there’s something around every corner just waiting to reveal itself. Possibility is tantalisingly tangible. 

It feels like a storybook world at times. Stars used as sources of light. The gathering of townsfolk to listen to a history that feels more myth than real. But Starspill doesn’t shy from thrilling with threat either. The spectre of the Wolf lives on in more than just the perpetual darkness of the world and there’s the ever-present slither of the knowing fog. The cats are both adorable and scheming. They’re both excellent facets of the book and work so well together to bring it to life and give it depth. 

Zac is a great protagonist, considerate and dreamful and brave. But the entire cast is fantastic. His friendship with Alys feels lived in and she makes for a great compliment to him with her astuteness and ability to charge ahead. Aurelian’s wisdom and Jinx’s ambitious round the group out perfectly. And I love Jinx. What a sweet wee schemer. 

I did begin to worry once the second Ember came into play and I noticed how many pages were left. But I should have had more faith in Fisher. It comes together wonderfully and Zac’s moment of consideration made me quite emotional. My one criticism is that while threats that are so terribly powerful makes for great tension and thrills but it forces certain constraints on the way the end plays out. I wish it hadn’t been taken quite so out of hand. 

To end on a more positive note, I love the little sub-headings under each chapter. They build anticipation so well and add to that sense of magic that I love so dearly. 

 This sequel begins immediately where the first left off and I was eager to see where Asmar would go after abandoning his companions and couldn’t be happier with Rasch’s choice. The Sitire have been the enemy for so long. I relished this time in Sitim and the humanisation of its people. However it also immediately validated my criticisms from the last book. There are too many characters. More this time who are immediately relevant. But I didn’t remember Orien at all when he returned so you can understand my trepidation when an entire troupe of acrobats was introduced. 

And no, there’s still no character index. 

The issue isn’t just that there are so many all at once. It doesn’t keep track of returning characters well. Orien only features in two chapters in the first book, I believe. And not long in this one. The kindness of a stranger lingers. But it’s hard to people a world with what might as well be grave markers, a name, a place, here and gone. The transitory nature of its cast can be incredibly effective, as much as to its detriment. 

Nonetheless the world and its peoples were some of the elements I most enjoyed in the first book and that continues here with the Wanderer and the others outside of the wizards’ reach. So much having been established this book was able to slow and to take its time with people and places. In particular I was fascinated by the community Asmar met with towards the end. Similarly I enjoyed its focus on enough – on what is, and trying to be, even when you fall short. It lent a richness to the narrative. 

However what troubles the book is Asmar. While I find his hardheaded lack of nuance sometimes frustrating, I do like it as characterisation. It comes across mostly that he’s wrong when faced with the Wanderer, however, who knows more than he does. And he knows more than everyone else. It’s an interesting choice to see him be such a wizard despite what he claims. It’s great to watch as he reels from the possibility of becoming like Malzus and yet delves, skims and mines other people’s minds with nary a second thought. Even going so far as to open other people’s minds to strangers. It continually teases a theme of responsible and ethical use of the powers his wizardry affords him but its engagement is shallower than I expected. A homogeneity is falling over the group under his guidance, for instance. It’s still well drawn and interesting. 

Thanks to iRead Book Tours and J.D. Rasch. I leave this review voluntarily.