Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s The Return of the Sorceress is an itty bitty novella from Subterranean Press. It was a bloody treat.

Yalxi clawed her way to the top of the Aztec Empire, and the betrayal, and fall after, was painful. After she dusts herself off, she seeks the Diamond Heart, a McGuffin that will power her revenge. The problem with long journeys, however, is they leave a villainess plenty of time to think about her past. 

The Return’s setting feels similar to the world of Certain Dark Things, but centuries earlier and in an Aztec Empire full of blood mages. The world-building was too much for me to absorb through listening, so I switched to a small hardback copy. I’m glad I did. Moreno-Garcia’s tale is beautiful, fun, and poignant, with musings on betrayal, grief, aging, and re-setting one’s path to atonement. I heartily recommend it to swords-and-sorcery fans looking for a feminist adventure. 

What grew out of fannish obsession (thanks Bungo Stray Dogs) has turned into I actually really like this author now. My library has a copy of Flowers of Buffoonery, and so of course it found its way into my bag.

Flowers of Buffoonery has two layers of narrative. The frame is a late 20s burnout writer struggling to write his novel. Said novel is the story of Yozo Oba, a cartoonist recovering from a suicide attempt in the Blue Pines Manor sanatorium. Like in some of Dazai-san’s other works, there are callbacks to Dazai-san’s real life, moments of despair, and touches of humor in a story with minimal plot and lots of feelings.

The frame narrative with the author had me in stitches with its relatability. I felt like I was sitting beside the author as he edited a manuscript draft for the 10th time, utterly sick of it but knowing he has to change it up to get it published. Balancing truth and fiction, deciding to write what is experimental (for art’s sake) and what is known (for money): I struggle with these questions too! Hilariously, the author wails that he wants to write a classic. Good job, bud! You did it! 

Yozo’s journey was a fascinating study on the psychology of young men. They joke, they roughhouse; they guard delicate feelings and make overtures of peace before harm is even committed. Traditional society and its obsessions with reputation do the most harm to these sensitive, young human beings. Cracking under all of society’s required bluster, Yozo just wants to paint and create something good. The blurb positions Flowers of Buffoonery as a prequel to No Longer Human, but truly it’s ambiguous. The tragicomedy ends with hope.

If you’re interested in Dazai-san’s work, Flowers of Buffoonery is a great starting point. Many of his motifs are present, but softened and more accessible than other work. Pick up a copy! 

Literally everyone and their mother read this title and texted me about it, hahahaha. Lesbians? Books? Tea? That’s the good stuff.

Reyna is one of the best knights in the queendom. Kianthe is the most powerful mage. They have better things to do than selling their labor. After saving the queen from one last assassin, Reyna and Kianthe run off to a small border town and do not leave behind forwarding addresses. Can’t Spell Treason Without Tea starts with our couple already in love, and the narrative focuses on making that relationship thrive. Our lovers set up the book/coffeeshop of their dreams in a quaint, wintery town, make friends, and solve a draconic mystery.

Thorne’s book is the first I’ve read that billed itself as a cozy romance, and, to the tell the truth, I’m charmed. Can’t Spell Treason Without Tea delivered in ways I’d not thought possible outside of fanfiction. Kianthe and Reyna’s relationship is the beating heart of the novel. Thorne lovingly describes their ups and downs and how every day they choose each other. They heal from the harsh mindset of destiny and work = worth. Elements outside of them and their arcs are more wibbly. The world-building is uneven, begging questions and worrying conclusions (is the queendom going to be okay without Kianthe to ward off natural disasters?). Another character is named “Feo,” which I understand is a nickname in Russian, but also means “ugly” in Spanish. Honestly though, I didn’t care about these details because Reyna and Kianthe just found the perfect houseplant, the new tea is delicious, and the next book is already loaded up on Kindle.

If you like knight/mage lesbian love stories, pour some cocoa, nestle under a blanket, and crack open Can’t Spell Treason Without Tea. 

Silvia Moreno-Garica’s books continue to enrapture me. I borrowed the audiobook version of The Daughter of Doctor Moreau from the library and it was exactly what I needed.

In 1860s Yucatán, there is a sanatorium just far enough in the jungle that it’s difficult to visit. Yaxaktun is its own static world, headed by French biomedical expert Dr. Moreau. At his command are his daughter Carlota, his overseer Montgomery Laughton, and his many, rather animalistic servants. This is a totally normal place. There is no need to worry. 

Hahaha, okay, okay, jokes aside, Silvia Moreno-Garcia has breathed life and color into HG Wells’ original The Island of Doctor Moreau. The beautiful, evocative prose is rich and lush with historical details. The Mayan rebellion was not covered in world history, lemme tell ya. I loved learning about nineteenth century Yucatán, with its heady, toxic mix of patriarchy, colonialism, classism, racism, and colorism. The book’s pacing is hot weather seduction dashed by sudden rain. In other words, Yazaktun’s stasis slowly unravels, unspooling faster and faster as Carlota, Lupe, and Montgomery tackle long simmering conflicts. The audiobook narrator was fantastic and I heartily recommend her performance. The romance between Montomgery and Carlota kept me guessing until the very end–I was fully prepared for a terrible parting like in Certain Dark Things, or the hope of Velvet was the Night. 

My one quibble was the final twist, which could have used more clarity and forethought.

I thought we already knew that Carlota was a jaquar-human hybrid. Maybe we were supposed to be shocked at the extent of her cat features? Another review also mentions a detail oversight regarding Carlota’s bedroom door. It locks from both the inside and the outside, yet Carlota is trapped there. She should be able to walk out.

By the pace that Silvia Moreno-Garcia is publishing her works, I’m guessing these small confusions were missed in a rushed editing process. It happens. I docked a star from my rating, but I cannot overstate how much I enjoyed the book overall.

I have already recommended The Daughter of Doctor Moreau to other readers. If you like the HG Wells original, if you like history, if you like gorgeous nature details, pick Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s work up!