I had extremely high expectations considering the side of the internet I find myself is absolutely obsessed with this book. And it met those expectations beautifully. Wang weaves a story of motherhood, and war, and growth just absolutely beautifully. The only reason this is not 5 stars for me is because I personally struggle with fight scenes and envisioning them, and this book was no exception unfortunately. The entire middle portion was difficult for who I am as a reader, but it was still beautifully written. 

2.75/5

Random aside before the review: I have never read a book that said the title so many times

This novel was… something. It managed to hold my attention, which is perhaps the best thing I can say about it. However, the ending was deeply unsatisfying, as both perspectives came from unreliable narrators—but in the worst possible way. The final reveal fell flat; Grady’s attempt to kill Abby felt entirely disconnected from the narrative, with no prior hints to support such a twist. While I don’t expect to predict every ending, I do expect some groundwork to be laid so that twists feel earned rather than arbitrary.

The island subplot was particularly strange. The reveal that all the residents were women because they couldn’t trust men felt contradictory, especially considering the financial success the community had, in large part, depended on a man. The premise had potential, but it ultimately lacked the strength and depth necessary to make it compelling.

In conclusion, while the concept was interesting, the book was poorly written and failed to deliver on its promise.

4/5

This was an incredibly compelling read for me. I found myself deeply resonating with Dominic and his relationship with his siblings—a subplot that, while not the central focus of the book, stood out as particularly poignant.

While the spicy elements weren’t a major draw for me, I was especially impressed by how the book explored themes of grief. The ways in which Maddie, Don, and others navigated their emotions felt both authentic and impactful, making those moments the true highlight of the story.

Aside: I wish I had a Jeremy in my life. 

 I was deeply intrigued by this book because the history of body snatching is such a fascinating yet relatively unknown topic, despite being extensively documented. It’s no secret that stolen cadavers played a significant role in advancing medical science. However, a major frustration I had with this book was its lack of attention to who was most impacted by these practices. Perhaps my knowledge on the subject isn’t as strong as I thought, given that this book is set in Scotland rather than the U.S. But in the American context, body snatchers primarily targeted the poor, the homeless, and disproportionately, Black communities. When discussing this topic, it feels essential to address those disparities.

The author briefly mentions the frustrations body snatchers faced with wealthier families, but the coverage was so brief that it felt insufficient. I also struggled with the book’s overall premise, which leaned toward an apologetic view of body snatchers. While I can understand that some may have had motivations similar to Malstrom’s crew, it seems unlikely that this was the norm. Regardless, the argument that the wishes of the deceased and their families should be disregarded in the name of scientific progress is a deeply unsettling one. People deserve respect in death, and even though Malstrom’s crew claims to provide it, their actions still violate those wishes.

There was one moment in the book where James expresses his disagreement with body snatchers but acknowledges their motivations, pointing out that the true culprits of this tragedy were the government and universities that refused to reform how cadavers were obtained. This perspective resonates with me. If body snatchers and anatomists with influence had used their energy to push for systemic change instead of desecrating graves, the outcomes might have been very different.

Ultimately, I struggle with the idea of condoning body snatching, even in the name of “progress.” While I understand that this wasn’t necessarily the book’s central argument, it’s a moral conflict I couldn’t shake. That said, the author does an excellent job weaving in the true story of Burke and Hare, effectively illustrating how, when bodies are in high demand, some individuals will resort to even more extreme methods than grave robbing.

For me, James and Aneurin’s story was the saving grace of this book. I appreciated the author’s note at the end, which added depth to their relationship and brought a more personal touch to the narrative.

In the end, I just wish the book had focused more on the harsh realities of body snatching rather than leaning toward romanticizing or justifying it.

4.5/5

I put off reading this for a while to get some distance from our own real life experience with a pandemic and the events of this story. 

The early chapters were so reminiscent of March 2020 that I found myself remembering things I hadn’t in awhile about those first few days. 

The latter part of the book shifts to a different world than the one we experienced though, and I found an immense amount of joy in the idea that in the collapse of civilization, music, history, and writing/reading were what people clung to in this story. It was a reminder that electricity and phones are not what make connection, they just facilitate it.

HOW is this a debut release?? 

 I think this book did an amazing job of addressing moral contradictions, from Adolin and oaths:
An oath could be broken, but a promise? A promise stood as long as you were still trying. A promise understood that sometimes your best wasn't enough.
A promise cried with you when all went to Damnation.
A promise came to help when you could barely stand.
Because a promise knew that sometimes, being there was all you could offer.” To Dalinar and changing character: “Sometimes a hypocrite is just a man in the process of changing.” To Kaladin and accepting things that cannot change and helping others recognize we are a product of others, not just our own actions. To Shallan, recognizing that she is the product of abuse but that she will not let the define her. And so so many more. 

I frequently in my own life have used the phrase “it explains but doesn’t excuse” and Brandon used that principle (and that wording) a few times in this book, and it felt so deeply real. At the end of the day this book was about coming to terms with mental health and accepting responsibility and help for yourself. And it was done beautifully. 

Thank you to the nerd fam and Laura Piper Lee for an arc of this book!

I approached this book with some hesitation, as I'm generally not a fan of spicy romance. However, I quickly realized that my reservations were unfounded—perhaps I just haven’t enjoyed spice in the past because I haven’t read a book where it was done as well as Lee does in this book. In this case, I found myself thoroughly enjoying every moment of the story. But this story goes beyond just spice (even though those moments were fun to read) the author also weaves multiple storylines into this book,  particularly the vineyard rivalry, which was fun to read about, but also amazing to see the history of it all unfold. 

What I found most compelling, though, was the authenticity of the friendships in the book. Zoe, the protagonist, grapples with the trauma of her mother’s death, and this pain manifests in various ways. Despite her struggles, her friends are consistently supportive, offering both lighthearted banter and unwavering emotional strength when needed. Their dynamic is both fun and deeply genuine, and I truly appreciated how the author balanced humor with heartfelt moments. 

I certainly will be picking up Laura Piper Lee’s other books👀


*spoiler* 

I almost cried on page 313 when Matthew from Bob Vivant says “we fight for our vineyards, Zoe. And our friend.” And then again at the showcase when Marisol was ready to fight the critic for Laine.

I don’t know how this book was written by the same person who wrote The Fury, they are so different stylistically that I truly was shocked.  

Mariana is much more likeable than the characters in the other book. Ultimately, I wanted to know what was happening and why but at the end of the day I didn’t like the ending very much.

This was such a wholesome read. I really enjoyed the way the author wrote Yadrial’s family dynamic and demonstrated how it can be frustrating during transitioning to constantly be correcting people, even when they are trying. Julian’s character was good and I appreciated his dynamic with his brother as well. Overall this was just a very heartfelt story. You can tell the author is a part of this community, and the publisher made sure the cover artist and audiobook narrator were as well, which really made the Latinx community feel so real in this story.