A refreshing, beautifully diverse quick read. I really liked Yasmín as a protagonist. She's flawed and sympathetic in equal measure, and I really enjoyed witnessing her journey as she became more introspective and started figuring out who she was, what she wanted and why. She really goes through considerable growth, and I'm here for it. I also really related to her struggle to balance what the adults in her life and her peers expected of her, and I liked her relationship with music. 

In terms of plot, there's a lot going on here, between the marching band, the online harassment plot, Yasmín's struggles at home as she feels she has to manage her Mom/her Mom's tense relationship with her sibling Ellen, the pressure to succeed at school, and more. The storyline that runs through all of this and strings all the small plots together is Yasmín's relationship with her (ex) best friend Sofia, and it really was my favorite part of the book, from the start to the resolution. It's painful in many ways, and kind of bittersweet, and both of them messed up so much and were so unfair to each other in different ways—and the way it played out in the end feels really genuine.

I'm probably not the best audience to appreciate all the nuances of the school band setting; it's a rather unfamiliar subject for me, and while it's very clear the author is passionate about it, I did sometimes feel like the story got bogged down in the marching band details. Perhaps I would consider it a strength of the book if I was more invested in the subject, though, who knows! As it was, while there were those "bogged down" moments, I can say there was also a fair amount of the interesting interpersonal stuff injected into them, or some cool turns of phrase spicing up the band dialogue/Yasmín's narration. So I never really felt bored, simply a bit overwhelmed.

I have vague memories about DNFing this book pretty early on years ago, since the beginning was just so generic and not very well-constructed. Touch, stabby heroine who's not like other girls and has weird eyes! Chapters upon chapters bogged down with flashbacks and exposition! Honestly, the second time around it was just as boring. But I've been seeing a lot of positive mentions of this series lately, and besides, I've been recced one of the book from further in the series for a highly specific request. So I chose to persevere, and once I was past 5 chapters or so, things did get a lot better. It turned out to be a quicker read than I expected, and I was rather engrossed for the most part.

Ultimately, though, my feelings are mixed at best. I really enjoyed the superpowers/graces and how their implications were handled. They're not just cool powers, but something that permeates the characters' entire lives and provokes experiences that shape their personalities. I liked the relationship between Katsa and Po: the gradual development, the building of trust, how they actually talked it out whenever they clashed. I also enjoyed Katsa's arc and her struggle to gain control over her life, though at the same time, she frustrated me a lot with that stereotypical "not like other girls" thing and the way it was handled/delivered. Also, the way she treats horses? Absolutely not cool, 0/10, much frustration. Not saying every character should adore animals, but there's a line between not adoring animals and not even treating them as living beings who can get tired or hurt, and that girl is so far on the other side of it.

The setting had a lot of interesting things going for it, though I wish some of them were explored deeper. I really liked the way the ethical implications of certain political tangles were brought to light, like how the responsibility is shared between cruel rulers and those who work for them and empower them through that. Really, I don't think the book ever completely stopped being tropey and somewhat generic, but the way these familiar tropes are explored and delve into felt really refreshing. So despite the rocky beginning, the occasionally clunky prose, and my grips with Katsa as the MC, for the most part I rather enjoyed this.

This was a surprisingly cozy read, despite the high-stakes premise and the supposed urgency of the situation that brought the MC to a foreign kingdom, seeking to secure a marriage between its ruler and his half-sister and obtain much-needed help with the war that stole most of his family and threatens his home. I expected that war to be brought up a lot more and for the politics to be a lot more prominent. Instead, while the subject does come up now and then and there's certainly some political intrigue going on and tension rises toward the end, the majority of the book is practically slice of life. Getting to know Eric's family, the slow burn romance between Eric and Oliver, Tessa's love triangle with Eric's nephews, navigating a new culture, history lessons about dragons, overcoming a chronic illness flare-up—all of that constitutes the meat of the story, whereas the initial premise largely seems to exist to bring the characters together and keep them in the same place.

I must say I'm not really complaining, because I did very much enjoy all the thoughtful, detailed, slowly paced coziness. I loved the characters, the dynamics between them, how Oliver and Tessa got more and more included in Eric's family. I enjoyed the vivid descriptions, the nods to the Northern history and culture, the overall wintery vibe. The romance was beautifully executed, and I mostly liked how the age gap and the inherent power imbalance between the king and the foreign noble's bastard was handled. Really, this was overall a deliciously pleasant read!

Still, for all of the book's strengths, there's a bit of a "deceived expectations" case for me here. At least in the final part of the book, the things the beginning promised did start taking center stage, but they were also... not quite the same things the beginning promised? The plot definitely got a lot more political, but the direction of all those politics changed somewhat, and a lot of it was more like... a set-up for the future installments in the series rather than follow-through with the conflict that started this book. Which is mainly why this isn't a five-star read for me, but it sure came rather close!

Not my favorite Little Village novella, but it was definitely a cute and pleasant wintery read! I kind of regret not picking up Village Fool earlier, though. Of course, this series can be read any which way, but it does feel like some context from that particular book would have come handy.

The romance part was vaguely underwhelming for me, to be honest, which is funny, given that it's the whole reason I picked up. But at the beginning there was such a strong notion that Kevin was still hung on Ru, so complete with a rather fast relationship development, it created a sort of, "So is it going to be just a rebound then?" feel. I was honestly far more invested in the second of the two timelines. There was something really beautiful about Felix bonding with Danya while working as Danya's nurse, and I appreciated Felix's work philosophy and ethics a lot. He's a great caretaker.

As usual, I loved the strong sense of queer community and the found family vibes all around, specifically during the wedding scenes. It was also interesting how firmly the book is rooted in the now. The small casual mentions of climate change affecting weather patterns and therefore plans, the recent COVID pandemics—somehow, the way it was done really made me feel like all the characters were real people, just going about their lives across the globe from me, coping with the same world-wide troubles. That was a curious effect.

All in all, a good edition to my December reading list, even if I maybe expected a bit more!

A cute, quick slice-of-life read about a clearly gay son who isn't ready to come out and his loving, slightly exasperated mother who does her best to play along, as well as other members of the family who follow her lead. The sheer amount of family acceptance is incredibly heartwarming, and there are plenty of nice moments that put a smile on my face. The humor of all those situations where the son once again slips, then backtracks does get repetitive rather quickly, so I'm honestly not sure if I'm going to read the future volumes: there's only so much repetition I can take. But this is really a very sweet, fluffy book for a cozy evening, and the art is rather nice!

My main complaint is that this book didn't quite live up to its predecessor, The Secret Lives of Country Gentlemen, which happens to be at the top of my Ultimate 2023 Favorites list. It was good! Really good! But not absolutely 100% stellar and not tailor-made for my tastes. Tragic, really. :D

That aside, I did enjoy the ride a lot! All the staples of KJ Charles's historical romance are here: two heroes with complex backgrounds that contradict and compliment each other in the best way; undeniable chemistry; awful rich people being awful; beautiful prose; strong, well-defined side characters (I especially enjoyed meeting Odo, and getting to see Joss and Gareth again was a delight); subtle commentary on the historical period's realities and flaws. The sense of setting regrettably wasn't as strong here as I hoped it would be, since the gloomy expanse of the Marsh is largely traded for the confines of a gothic mansion. It's a rather compelling mansion for sure, and vividly painted at that, but it didn't permeate every scene with its vibes the way the Marsh did.

Luke was a great character to follow: a sympathetic anti-hero whose narration made it clear from the start that he was up to something, but as for his endgame, he sure kept his cards close to his chest for a long time. In fact, it became kind of grating around the middle and led to a drop in pacing, in my opinion. I wish there were more hints to what he was doing, or that they were less cryptic. When the truth came to light, however, it made perfect sense. I didn't end up approving of his methods, but I do get his goal and motivation. Rufus didn't steal my heart in a similar way, but he was interesting enough, and I sympathized with him. I enjoyed their dynamic and the misgivings each of them had about each other, and how they recovered from the inevitable falling out when Luke's deal started coming to light.

All in all, more than an enjoyable read—I'm very glad I finally got my hands on it!

I really enjoyed this venture into the monster world and all the details about it. The creatures, the flora, the alien landscapes, all the new information about Wyn's species, getting to meet another representative about said species—all of that was so fascinating and so interestingly done. Honestly, I went in expecting to be hooked by the romance parts, and I ended up way more invested into the worldbuilding instead. Not something I've come to expect from this series, but I'm absolutely digging the change!

It was nice to catch up with the characters who started it all and to have the aspect of age/mortality difference addressed. Feels like by this point Wyn and Danny are out of the acute honeymoon phase and settled into a chronic honeymoon phase, and I love it for them. Danny in particular seems to be in a really good place and far more of a cinnamon roll than he was at the start—or maybe it's just because we're looking at him through Wyn's absolutely infatuated eyes? Nevertheless, the fluff was really nice, and it was great to get Wyn's POV.

I also weirdly liked the fact that Wyn comes across rather villainous at times (that scene where he used a random soldier as a guinea pig to make sure Danny would be all right in the monster world was absolutely hilarious, but also absolutely horrifying when you think about it from the soldier's POV). After Edin and Auri being all nice, sweet, and misunderstood in their books, each in his own way, it was kinda cool to see a monster being, well, monstrous, while also being pathologically sweet and protective within his relationship. 

That said, I did have some qualms with that one moment when Wyn led Danny to believe that he did the best he could while actually... not... having done that (even though he did more than he would have otherwise). Danny is already determined to see Wyn as a hero-like, almost martyr-like figure, and there's something toxic about directly feeding into that belief rather than opting for an open compromise: "Yes, I could do more, but I've already done more than I wanted, how about because of these and these rather valid reasons we agree it's enough." I know they're fictional, but I kind of hope that as their relationship evolves they'll move past such moments, because in many other ways, I'm totally rooting for their happy ever after.

A few years ago I tried to read a different book by Victoria Lee and was underwhelmed to the point of DNFing. So no matter how intriguing A Lesson in Vengeance looked, I didn't have particularly high expectations for it. I certainly didn't expect to blast through the entire book in one go because I simply couldn't put it down!

Looking at the book critically, I certainly see it's got flaws. There's a certain clunkiness to how some parts of the plot fit together. Ellis doesn't make for a convincing Pulitzer-winning literary prodigy, what with every quote pulled from her manuscripts reading like regular middle-of-the-shelf witchy YA. Some of the representation feels heavy-handed and imperfect. For a dark academia novel, there's too little academia here behind all the pretentious talk.

But, listen, the vibes! The vibes are so thick here and so deliciously creepy. It's been a while, I think, since I read something so absolutely atmospheric. I started reading the book in broad daylight, and I almost immediately felt like I was instead sitting in a darkened room with shadows lurking in every corner. The prose here is so vivid and engrossing, and I loved being in Felicity's head, trying to guess at what was real and what wasn't about everything that went on. All the tension, murder, and creepy witchiness made for a perfect cocktail to bring some Halloween mood into a gloomy December.

I do wish there was more actual academia, though. And to get to know some of the side characters better, although I kind of do understand why practically no one was fully realized. Throughout the narrative, Felicity pretty much only has eyes for Ellis, herself, and the long-buried Alex; it's no wonder all the other girls drift in and out of her periphery, providing nothing more than vivid snapshots of their presence.

All in all: a flawed yet delightful read with great prose and one of my favorite unreliable narrators.

I'll be honest, my main thought finishing this book was this: "It would have been so much better if it didn't have the entire external plot with the murders." And that's not because I'm against fantasy murder mysteries with court intrigue, or high-stakes situations mixing into slow burn romance. On the contrary, I absolutely love those things! But the way they were handled in this story was just—so incredibly off. Honestly, it felt like the author somehow decided they absolutely needed a high-stakes mystery and intrigue plot to go with the romance and healing, and so they produced one by the skin of their teeth.

And like... the book didn't really need that, you know? It already had plenty going on! This is a story of surviving sexual assault and healing from it; it's a slow-burn arranged marriage romance; it's a story of cultures clashing and of having to adapt to a completely new normal. That's quite enough. This could be a wonderful slice-of-life take on all those themes, with external conflict coming from interpersonal relationships, and with many more chances to explore the worldbuilding beyond basically just affirming over and over that Tithena is this queernorm, overall inclusive paradise that poses a sharp contrast to the patriarchal hell of Vel's homeland. The book kind of attempted to dig deeper into the nuances, but because it was trying to do more things than I think it needed to and because it kept swinging back and forth between all kinds of thing, losing focus... well. It didn't quite work. And honestly, all that mystery subplot only raised more questions about how the country functioned. I can't be the only one who kept thinking, "But don't you have any special people you can assign to investigate this?"

And really, the entire subplot with the investigation ultimately turned out to be so unnecessary, given that the culprit was found entirely by accident. The work the main characters put into solving the mystery didn't even pay off.

Other than raising more questions about Tithena's culture and politics than it answered, this external plot also just plain stood in the way of the developing relationship between Vel and Cae. I really liked the relationship, by the way! I liked both character arcs. I liked the way they both handled the weight of Vel's trauma, and how overall sensitively handled his recovery was: an authentic, nonlinear process with its ups and downs. I wanted a closer focus on this bumpy road, but every time they got a bit closer, something immediately happened connected to the murdery plot. Usually, someone just flat out got attacked. It was getting a bit ridiculous by the second time it happened, and the second time wasn't the last.

So, yeah. I would have absolutely adored the world out of this book if it was a healing + new culture story with a slowly, slowly developing romance and lower-stakes interpersonal drama. Because I loved those parts. I loved the undeniably "hurt/comfort fanfiction" feel of the storytelling of those parts, and this is something I'm saying as high praise here. There's this highly specific set of tropes, themes, and feels that can be find rather easily in fanfic land but seldom blooms in original fiction, and this? This is exactly it, and so well done. I loved the characters, and not just the main leads (Markel stole my heart especially). I loved so many things this book could have been, if only the pesky murders didn't constantly get in the way. But alas, they did, and so what could have been a total five-star favorite is... probably not going to even be a four-star read, if I'm very honest with myself :(

A bunch of my romance reader communities have been hyping up this book for a while now, so I've been super excited to read it. On the surface, it looked like the story was made for me: arranged marriage, slow burn, and hurt/comfort? Give me more! However, I'm sorry to say I found myself really disappointed. I guess the hurt part was a bit too prominent for my tastes and the comfort part was barely there in truth, since the focus shifted so much to Raphael's past trauma that led him to treat Milan the way he did and the plot started feeling a lot like making excuses. "If you were in abusive relationship in the past, it's kinda okay to nearly kill your new partner if you then feel bad about it" is so not an outtake I can get behind.

That said, I certainly don't discount the effects of Raphael's past and this kind of thing would be really interesting to explore, if only he was more rational about it. It's very understandable to need time to recover from something like that, but while you're recovering, either don't agree to an arranged marriage (yeah, we're told this wasn't an option for either of the leads, but we're never really shown it, which was another big letdown for me tbh—I'd love to see this inevitability and where it stems from explored in fiction rather than just exist as an informed attribute) or communicate with your new husband. Because Milan certainly tried hard to open any avenue of communication, but it's not just that Raphael never bothered to open up until something drastic came of his silence. It's that he never listened and made himself impossible to talk to, and Milan was left to shoulder the entire emotional brunt of this relationship while being the one in the more vulnerable position because of how the bond functions, as well as due to being alone in a new country and having no support network that could exist independently of Raphael's influence. The way he forgave Raphael was just to easy, and if there's one statement from Raphael that I fully agree with, it's this: "How can goodness prevail if we don’t expect it of people?"

That said, I did like Milan to a point (that too easy forgiveness? Nope), and I really liked a lot of the side characters and all the details about running the estate. There were also things that I liked because they were promising, but they were underexplored. Like the whole political situation with the arranged marriages that I mentioned above. Or the cultural differences that left Raphael so (*cough* ridiculously *cough*) ignorant of how the bond worked on Milan's end—surely they run deeper than only that and should have more implications for both the relationship between the leads and Milan's position in the new country in general.

All in all, this is a story I could have enjoyed a lot, if it was told somewhat differently.