Not gonna lie, I expected a similar experience from this book as I got from Elatsoe, since they seemed to have a similar vibe from the get-go. And so I also expected to love it as much as I loved Elatsoe. Unfortunately, I didn't (although I did enjoy it a whole lot), and I think the problem for me was that in many respects, it's very much like the author's first book, except it also isn't at all. Let me try and elaborate.

All the things I loved about Elatsoe are present here: the Lipan Apache mythology, the spirit world (even more of it here, with its very own storyline!), the subtle beautiful ace representation, and the super strong focus on family. That focus is done wonderfully once again. Both lead characters are completely engrossed in their family situations at all times: Nina is digging into her family's roots, worrying for her Grandmother, coping with her mother physical absence while also remaining close to both of her parents; Oli is building a found family of his own (and such an amazing one! this is all I want from this trope!) while also searching for his siblings.

The problem is, the scope and the stakes of the overall story are so far beyond this. It's really a story about climate change and related problems and the impact they have on people and spirits alike, which was intended to be told through the lens of families. But I felt like the story kept slipping and just being about families instead, and then every return to the big plot felt rocky. I kept wishing for the scope to deflate and the stakes to go lower so I could just focus on the things that mattered. I don't remember catching so much as a whiff of the same feeling when I read Elatsoe, even though stakes grew kind of high there by the end, too, because in that book, there was no such dissonance between scope and focus. It was a family story through and through.

Regardless, I did enjoy the write. All the characters are amazing, the prose flows nicely, and our world with all its high-tech and problems blends nicely here with the world of the spirits. I hope I'll get to read more from Darcie Little Badger in the future.

Such a quick, fun read! I picked it up pretty much on a whim and enjoyed it far more than I expected. My favorite aspect, without a doubt, was the board gaming and how it didn't just exist for flavor but fully carried the story. Absolutely every aspect of the mystery and the investigation—the why, the what, the where, the how—came down to board games, and the way all of the aspects came together was awesome. The mystery itself wasn't that hard to crack, but the way the investigation was constructed made the book pretty much unputdownable.

I really liked Ben as a narrator. He has a fun subtle sense of humor and a pleasant personality, and I related to his inner conflicts. His relationship with his father was especially compelling, and their final on-page interaction really touched me. I also loved, loved, loved his slow burn romance with Ezra. All those gently humorous exchanges! All those times they were mistaken for a couple! The gradual opening up! The confession scene, OMG, the confession scene. Such a great relationship, and yet I confess this is the aspect of the book that left me just a tiny bit unsatisfied—much as I enjoyed the mystery, I would have enjoyed it even more if it skewed a bit heavier toward romance. You know, something in the spirit of Adhara's Big Bad Wolf, cozy mystery edition. This is, however, fully a subjective preference and not an objective complaint.

Speaking of the cozy aspect: the vibes were so good. The board game shop, the flower shop, all the food, the coffee, Ben's dog, Ezra's cat—every staple of coziness was there, woven into the narrative so naturally. And finally, I loved the strong sense of setting. I learned more than I expected about Utah and will definitely remember this book, among other thing, as "that one set in Salt Lake City."

I was instantly enamored with the author's style. Like, from the very first page, and then I got to the first chapter with Rhys as the POV character and got enamored farther. This was such a fun read with plenty of great banter and humorous lines. I absolutely adored the supporting cast, especially Gwyn. Also, the general Halloween vibe of this small town, the magical mishaps, the witchy adventure, the talking cat that only wanted treats—so much to love here! 

The one thing I found myself more and more underwhelmed with as I read on was the actual romance. I did enjoy Rhys and Vivi's interactions and they definitely have a lot of romantic chemistry! But it felt like they themselves were mostly focused on the sexual chemistry part and the feelings were just a side effect—or they treated them that way, especially Vivi. I wouldn't say that's bad per se, that's just not what I'm after in romance. I'm too ace for that "sexual feelings come first" thing I guess. 😅

I also wasn't really a fan of the ending, because I'm generally not fan of the type of big swooping gestures that amount to making the decision for the other person rather than tackling things as a team. It felt like a let down, especially because these two characters did prove they were good at tackling things as a team multiple times. Why can they practice teamwork when they're hunting ghosts but not within their own relationship?

Despite these gripes, I did thoroughly enjoy my time with the story. I'd love to hang out with these characters more, to get to know Rhys's brothers, and to see what other witchy shenanigans are possible in this fun world!

Well, this was weird. 

On the surface, this comic looked like something I was bound to enjoy: magic, coffee, friendship, queer monster community, what's not to love? And the first few pages did look promising. Except very soon, I started getting kind of overwhelmed. There are lots of characters, especially when you add in the advice columns and those interludes that are (I think???) just excerpts from in-universe books the characters like. Everything is happening at once and no one really gets any focused screen time. Not even the leads most of the time, because there's always something else going on in the background, more banter happening, more characters popping up.

Combine all that with the art style that didn't really work for me (objectively, it's GOOD! subjectively, there's something about the colors and the shapes here that makes it hard for my brain to grok them), and, alas, I can't say I enjoyed the ride. I did enjoy its potential, and there were a few spots that did make me smile.

I'll be honest, it took me a bit to get into the story because the way it's written is clunkier than what I've read from Skye Kilaen before. I was close to DNFing because of the writing over the first few chapters, but the characters kept growing on me and I kept giving the book chances. And, well, by 20-25% I got hooked! Not sure if the writing got better or if I just stopped caring about the clunkiness, lol.

I empathized a lot with Gina's fears about giving relationships a chance again. It wasn't entirely reasonable, but also perfectly understandable. Her relationship with Aunt Ophelia was lovely, and I enjoyed seeing all those parts of her life: her jobs, her family situations, her home, her board game addiction. Marek, however, just absolutely captured my heart. He is such a lovely, kind, empathetic, thoughtful, introspective character. An inspiration, really, and one of those characters I'd love to meet in real life and become friends with. His gentle optimism was practically addictive, and seeing him simply explore Clover Hill and find things to love about it was as beautiful as seeing his relationship with Gina blossom. 

Speaking of that relationship development, I enjoyed that this couple's interactions included a lot of details that often get glossed over in favor swooping romantic gestures and big feelings. Questions like "is this how you deal with fights?" or "how do you handle medical care?", certain details about sex, generally establishing and agreeing on borders—so much realistic stuff handled in lovely ways that didn't distract from the feelings at all. It was all great to see characters in their later thirties, and of course I loved the bi and fat rep.

Clover Hill itself is the perfect queer utopia, and once the setting started getting prominently explored, it quickly turned into my favorite part of the book (after Marek, of course). I love reading about cozy, inclusive, tight-knit communities like that, and I look forward to exploring it more with other books in the series. 

I loved a lot about this book: the art style, the thoughtfulness, but mos of all, how viscerally relatable I found a lot of the author's experience. That one moment of fake-gushing about the Gravitation manga? OMG, literally been there! And there was an anime based on it, too, and my friends were so sad that it never properly showed the "hot scenes," so I pretended to be sad, too, even though *whispers* I absolutely didn't care, I was in it for the drama, and whether the drama was "hot" and "sexy" or not was irrelevant.

Also: that entire feeling of being the odd one out, then finding your crew of fellow weirdos, and still being the odd one out when it comes to romance and sex. The conviction that everyone else finds these things just as hard at the beginning and everyone is pretending they're as interested in sex as the movies and books tell us to be, and then the realization that no, actually, everyone else is dead serious. Waking up with headaches after night-long anxiety attacks. Connecting to people through text role-playing games. That huge epiphany of finding a word that means who you are. So much stuff, big and small, that made me nod along as I read, because yeah, I've been there too.

What I weirdly didn't like were those educational snippets at the end of each chapter. On one hand, they're great and useful and I agree with what's said in them! On the other hand, with a title like this and with how the book looked generally, I expected it to be aimed more at fellow asexuals, and instead it kept turning into an after school special that was like, "Hey, allo people, here is what you need to know about us." That vibe occasionally creeped into the regular chapters, too, and there was something... idk, awkward about it? Especially since some of those additions were rather heavy-handed, and one was factually wrong. Aromanticism is a separate identity and not part of the asexual umbrella. There are plenty of allosexual aromantic people, just like there are plenty of alloromantic ace people! Romantic and sexual attractions can be wholly separate, and the book does actually spell it out, but still somehow shoves aro people under the ace umbrella.

I think my one problem with this book is that it never seemed to be able to decide what kind of story it wanted to be, so to speak. There are plenty of common romcom tropes and conventions here. At the same time, there are a lot of heavier, more serious themes, such as Sophie figuring out her bisexuality and dealing with the aftermath of her break-up, and even more prominently so, Amy's continued grief for her mother and her attempts to reconnect with her Dad. Now, it's fully possible to balance romcom tropes and heavier topics, but I don't feel like the author reached the right balance here. For me, the book constantly swung back and forth between a couple of very different moods. One moment, I'd be reading a fairly lighthearted melodrama; then I would turn the page and find myself plunged into something far more emotionally bruising.

For what it's worth, I feel like the author did an excellent job portraying all those heavy feelings and experiences. I'd love to read some less romcommy books from her, perhaps some angsty, hurt/comfort-ish contemporary romance with a real focus on the hard feelings. I think she'd be amazing at that! But this book was marketed as a romcom and tried to actually be a romcom half the time, so. Yeah.

I did very much like both leads and their relationship. Even through all of the misunderstandings, they have the kind of connection where they both lift each other up. Amy helps Sophie restore her confidence. Sophie helps Amy learn to accept help. It's so clear how they make each other's lives better and more complete, and I really, really shipped them. I guess Amy's arc resonated with me more—I have a soft spot for characters who have no idea how to deal with feelings, so they decide they're Just Not Empathetic and spring into action instead of making connections while feeling entirely too much under the surface. But Sophie was also a really interesting character with a full personality and a logical arc. I loved her relationship with her mother: rocky yet accepting. And her relationship with cooking, too—how she felt like now that it was her job, not just her passion, she wasn't good enough, and how she rekindled the "passion" part over the course of the story.

My other favorite parts involved Amy's relationship with her twin and all the moments focused on the restaurant: all the day-to-day in the kitchen, the glimpses of the staff's interactions, and of course all the tv show parts. I wish there was more focus on all of that, tbh!

By this point in the book, I should already be invested in the story, but I honestly feel nothing for the characters apart from a general "I'm sorry you're in a tough situation like that." It's like they have circumstances instead of personalities. I guess this is just not a book for me!

Much like other reviewers have noted, the story is really on the nose and the ending is rushed. Nevertheless, it's an enjoyable creepy romp with some great dialogue and a single most hilarious, absurdly funny scene I've ever laughed at in horror: that proposal! Like. All that tension, and suddenly, the ring, and then even more tension. You've got to read it. 

In terms of characters, I liked Petal, and I saw a lot of potential in Astor. It's a shame his arc fell flat so soon—it would've been nice if the story played harder into that angle where he didn't really agree with what his family was doing. If he was a bit more on Joey's side, but eventually chose his own, or something to that effect. Joey herself mostly annoyed me until she sprung into explosive action at the end, but I didn't quite buy her switch from passivity to decisiveness.

Mostly, I felt like the story was a little underdeveloped, but there were still some great moments!

Well, this was a trip! I confess I didn't fall in love with this installment as much as I did with the first book, but this was still incredibly engrossing and entertaining. I loved getting to know the familiar characters more and seeing their relationships redefined. All the storylines held a lot of tension. The dark academia vibe was thick as ever. So much lore about the societies and the dark, death-soaked magic. And so many demonic puzzles to solve and dangerous libraries to survive! In other words, all the thrills.

I think the storyline I particularly enjoyed was the one where Alex had to work through that one big part of her past—I really don't want to start talking about it in more detail, because I will just start spewing spoilers. But then there was all the magic, too, and assembling the crew to go into actual hell, and lots of characters from the first book getting to be more front and center. I loved Alex's friendships with Dawes and Mercy, and getting to know Turner better.

What I didn't fully love was how all of this was pulled together. The "making plans and assembling the party to go into hell" part dragged on for entirely too long, and then things started moving a bit too fast and, more importantly, unevenly. It was like the intermediary resolutions and plot points were coming at entirely the wrong places. The juggling of multiple timelines and gradual reveals didn't work nearly as effectively as it did in The Ninth House. I was also not a fan of certain aspects of Darlington's storyline, but that's something I can chalk up to taste. The book's weird composition, though, objectively detracted from my enjoyment, even though it's SO full of things I enjoy.