Well, this book sure made me feel things... except not the things I want to feel.

It does a really good job of portraying aphobia and the impact it has. Hunter and Vanilla's relationship reminded me a lot about my first meandering attempts at romance as a teen, and how I constantly felt the need to justify why I'm "not ready," and how "not being ready" was the only acceptable version of "probably won't ever want this at all, thanks for asking." How much I was forced to think about sex, even if it was in terms of avoiding/delaying it, when I didn't want to think about it at all. Those parts and those memories really hit hard.

I kept waiting for this to be openly acknowledged by the narrative, and then I almost stopped waiting and honestly just skimmed big parts of the book despite the poetry being nice and all. In the end, it was like the narrative completely equalized Vanilla's experience of being subjected to aphobia with Hunter's experience of being an allosexual guy in love with an asexual guy and unable to have his needs met. And like, it sucks to be in love with someone who can't fully meet your needs, I can't argue that, but there's a difference between falling for someone with an incompatible orientation and being shamed and belittled and infantilized for who you are. There's a very big difference, and the book, I felt, pretty much fails to acknowledge it. 

It could have been a nice, poignant story, if Hunter bothered to think more and educate himself and to listen to what Vanilla was actually saying, and if there was more communication. These guys started dating in middle school, before either of them started figuring out their feelings regarding sex, and then one of them turned out to be ace; this is an interesting premise that could have turned into a very important story, if it were handled sensitively and with more understanding of asexuality from the author. Alas, it wasn't.

Usually, I have two possible reactions to T.J. Klune's books: I either love them to bits, or can barely get through them. There's no middle ground. Or there wasn't, until In the Lives of Puppets.

I really, really loved the first third of the book or so. The one where a human and three robots live together in a tree-house in some clearly post-apocalyptic woods, and rescue a murder robot from a junkyard, and give him a heart and teach him what it is to be more than a machine. I was fully enamored by the quaint setting, and the low personal stakes, and the witty banter. I loved seeing an asexual protagonist. I related to Rambo's anxiety. I kind of began to want my own sociopathically kind Nurse Ratched in my life. I wanted to know more about the mysteries outside of the woods, but like... without really leaving the woods, please? I settled comfortably into the story being all cozy and small-scale, and I wanted to keep reading this cozy, small-scale story. It felt like exactly what I needed.

And then about one third into the story, maybe even a little later, way past the usual inciting incident mark, there were suddenly big dangers, high stakes, risky quests, and all sorts of stuff that felt very much at odds with what I had already settled into, to the point that I felt cheated. I guess I still appreciated parts of the later story—the characters were still engaging, and there are some great hopepunk moments, and all. But it was like I started reading one book and then was suddenly transported into a whole different story. Same characters, different vibes, an overall weird discordant feeling.

Frankly, can't say I appreciated it. Maybe the set-up shouldn't have been so long that I started believing the set-up was the story!

I think I expected more from this book, but I did enjoy what I got. There's such a strong sense of setting here, and it's precisely the kind of setting I love: a tiny community on the snow-covered edge of the world, surrounded by forests and mountains and frozen lakes, all of it touched with fairy magic. I enjoyed the way the fairy lore was handled: the academic approach to it, the relationship between the fairy magic/tradition and story tropes, and how close the fairies here are to what I expect from them based on folklore: fickle and cold-hearted and dangerously beautiful. The second half of the book was particularly strong in terms of this.

I also very much liked the mixture of cozy fantasy and fairy folk horror, or at least the concept of it. In practice, the coziness part kind of kept falling short for me, probably because of the amount of friction between Emily and the villagers at the beginning. Sure, it wasn't unreasonable of them to expect her to learn a bit about their customs and traditions before coming to stay. At the same time, it also wasn't unreasonable to assume that maybe those customs are, you know, foreign for her, so why not spell everything out before taking offense without explaining the faux pas? Communication is good! Also, Emily is very clearly portrayed as neudorivergent and struggles with societal expectations even in a familiar setting. That is something I very much relate to and sympathize with, so it hurt to see her given the cold shoulder for not living up to a standard outside of her scope. Which is why, even once the bridges were mended, it was difficult for me to truly get into the cozy parts. I kind of kept a grudge. :D And then there's also the fact that I somehow expect cozy fantasy books to have kind characters, and Emily is smart and interesting and complex, but I wouldn't call her particularly kind.

From the summary and some of the reviews I've seen, I expected the romantic storyline to be more prominent. As it was, it wasn't exactly subtle and it's certainly present at the forefront of the story most of the time. Emily and Wendell have a lot of fun moments together; taken in isolation, they're great exampls of the kind of grumpy x sunshine dynamic I tend to enjoy in fiction. But I just can't see them moving from that into an actual relationship for some reason. Which, much like my definition of cozy fiction, is largely a personal taste/preference thing, of course.

What objectively made it a bit difficult to maintain immersion was the journal entries format. On one hand, I get why the author chose it for this story over a regular first person narration. It fits the story itself, and it also allowed for that one very fun chapter around the middle—you know which one, if you've read the book. On the other hand, the amount of dialogue and the abundance of moment that felt just like regular first person narration... well, like I said, immersion got tricky. The idea behind the format is good, but the execution could use more polish, I suppose.

This is such a beautifully satisfying conclusion to the whole comic! The previous volume ended with both leads in a very dark place, apart and at the height of a misunderstanding; it was so relatable, so well-written, and so, so hard to read. In turn, this last volume creates a smooth transition from that peak of drama back to the story's slice-of-life promise. As Janek and Chepi spend time apart, they each get to reflect on themselves, and on what happened, and on what has gone wrong, and they each make use of their support networks to go through it—and then they come back together, and it's just. So beautiful. I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort, and this is hurt/comfort at its finest, and I'm not ready to let these two go, but I'm so happy that they got their happy ending.

At the moment, Chepi's arc just might be at the very top of my favorite examples of mental health representation. I'm so proud of how far he's come working with his anxiety, and also recognizing that while he's not at fault for the thing that happened to him and for the way his brain is reacting to the trauma, in many ways he has made his journey harder all on his own. Being in trouble doesn't excuse making trouble for others; people with mental illness can and should be accountable for their actions, too, and at the same time it should be recognized that mental illness, like anxiety or PTSD or depression or absolutely anything else, does make interacting with others so much harder, and these difficulties should be taken into account by others. These things aren't mutually exclusive, and the comic does such a good job of showing it.

Janek remains such a wonderful, kind character throughout, despite all the hardships life throws his way. I love his ability to stay deeply connected with other people and ingrained in his community, even though he's been let down by other people many times. (By the way, still not a fan of his mom! Even though her intentions are now clearer, the way she went about acting on them is just ugh.) It was great to see him stand up for himself, and communicate his needs, and I adore him with Chepi—all the care he shows, how careful he is with personal borders, everything.

I enjoyed getting to know all the side characters better, especially now that they're all shown through the eyes of Janek who's happier and less overworked, and Chepi who is actually giving everybody a chance instead of freezing everyone out because he's too stuck in his own head. The inclusivity and the diversity in this setting is truly wonderful: there's fat representation, demi representation, trans representation, existence of ethical non-monogamy as a valid option, and so much more. Hari Conner created a wonderful story and a wonderful place that truly feels like finding home. <3 

Also! The art??? STUNNING. The use of color and paneling throughout the comic is top-notch, but I feel like in this last volume especially the creator has outdone themself. Every page in this book is incredible, I swear.

I had such a hard time getting into this book, mostly because I couldn't find a single character to like. Harry annoyed me infinitely in the first few chapters; he appeared selfish, indecisive, and sorely lacking a moral backbone. His readiness to accept his sudden inheritance and titlte and his wish to live the shiny, careless, rich life of the oppressors, to leave behind the people who genuinely cared and risked their necks for him... Well, let's just say I couldn't wish for a happy ending for him if I tried! :D He did eventually redeem himself in my eyes to some extent, mostly when he got called out for and eventually admitted to having those very faults and started trying to be a better person.

Julius intrigued me when he first appeared on the page, because you can't be a sharp-tongued social peacock like that without having hidden depths, and I'm always curious about having depths. In many ways, his arc didn't disappoint me. But by the time he gave me reason to feel a lot of sympathy for him, he had already given me just as much reason to want to kick him. I admit the whole thing about resisting oppressive systems vs supporting them/going along with them because "oh well what can I do" is an incredibly sore subject for me at the moment. So whenever Julius started urging Harry to forget his past and embrace his new life and stop thinking about innocent people being murdered somewhere far away in Manchester, he lost a lot of points in my eyes.

The two leads did have amazing chemistry, an interesting relationship arc, and I liked how they expanded each other's horizons and forced each other to confront their own flaws and secrets. But it's kinda hard to route for a pairing in which both individuals possess qualities I absolutely despise in people, and for the most part exist in an environment that nurtures those qualities.

Speaking of that environment... I'm familiar enough with K.J. Charles works to know that you can't crack open a novel of hers without expecting a heavy dose of That Posh British Aristocracy Was Absolutely Awful, Actually. But this one might paint the worst picture ever. I was so mad at that whole society literally all the time I was reading the book. I couldn't find it in myself to sympathize with nearly any of the supporting characters, like all the Ricardians, even when they displayed good human qualities, because they were always offset by being part of an awful system and refusing to give much thought to how not fucking all right it was. Honestly, there were precisely two characters I did like: Verona and Silas.

At the same time, the political plot was exciting and tightly woven and complimented the romantic developments very well. All the situations and characters were exceptionally vivid. It's a good book, it's just... a good book about not so good people. And hey, I'm all for characters who have deeply ingrained flaws! I love reading about flawed people! It's just that in this case, apparently, their flaws amounted largely to things I happen to find deeply triggering due to the present-day political realities that directly affect me.

As far as series introductions go, this was pretty excellent! The novella stands on its own well enough, too, being a thrilling, tightly plotted haunted house story with two likable queer characters who have vastly different views on what's even happening. The mutual attraction does develop rather quickly, which is normally not something I often like, but in this case, it felt really natural: there was that initial spark, and then it got fueled by adrenaline into a promise of a bigger fire.

The main point of this story, however, is to be the primer for a bigger series, and this is a job it does so, *so* well. It showcases the tip of such an exciting iceberg. A "broken masquerade" type of urban fantasy world with multiple magical systems whose practitioners have vastly different views on the supernatural phenomena? Clearly a kitchen sink of magical beings, since there are passing mentions of so many of those, from fairies to werewolves to vampires? And what's with the MC's magic? Can I please learn more about his backstory? When do I get to meet this Lauren, whoever she is, who gave him that spell book? And, of course, I do want to see the above-mentioned flaring spark develop! 

Clearly, San Amaro Investigations is going to be the next queer urban fantasy I delve into, and I'm delighted to see there are quite a few novels in it already. Who needs [insert all sensible purchases here] when I can buy new books instead? :D

I pretty much love this as a series conclusion. At the same time, I have a bit of mixed feelings about certain aspects, mainly the central mystery. I've enjoyed all the mysteries in the series so, so much. Some more than the others, but for the most part, it was super exciting to follow the investigations and make guesses. This time, the whole thing felt... well, I don't want to say artificial, but it hinged on too many factors that didn't feel organic and were more like coincidences? There was a certain assumption at the very beginning that I kept waiting to be twisted around/proven to be a red herring, and there were all those clues that I kept waiting to see subverted because why else would they be going over Cooper's head like that after everything I know of him from the previous books. It was just odd. 

I enjoyed getting even more immersed into the werewolves' politics and lore and how the two intersect, and watching Cooper get more and more immersed into the world of the wolves and grow more comfortable in it. The big reveal at the end, though, with Cooper's AQ and the whole Moon thing... I don't know, I'm not really a fan of it, I think. I do kind of see what the author was going for, but I also don't quite buy it? Maybe part of it is that we're always in Cooper's head, him being the sole narrator, and he's the one who doesn't quite buy it. Maybe it's just not the plot direction I liked. Maybe both.

Now onto the things I did unequivocally love, though! They were numerous! On a large, series-wide scales I appreciated a lot of things about how the plot was constructed, with plentiful nods to the events of all the previous books. I absolutely loved Eli's involvement and how he became such a part of Cooper and Oliver's lives. This is pretty much what I've wanted since Book 3. I may be weird, but I do enjoy it when an ex becomes a genuine friend of the family, and Eli is such a fun character. I know he now has his own spin-off, I've already bought the first book, and I'm eager to dive into it soon! (Also, the summary of that book is absolutely hilarious in light of one of Eli's quips in his last conversation with Cooper, 10/10). 

I really liked the presence of Cooper's family, how he continues to (re)build a connection with his brother, and how his relationship with his father grows. In Book 2, Ed and Cooper did take steps toward a better mutual understanding, but their relationship still felt strenuous and... not too promising, let's say? But now I can see both of them taking steps to meet each other in the middle.

That plotline that delved into Cooper's past with the FBI was... ugh, wow, let's just say some of those scenes left me thoroughly uncomfortable, as they should, and all of that explains so much about his character, the place he started from (and also showcases just how much he's grown throughout the series). Funny thing: when it just started unfolding, I was like, wow, I would've preferred some hints/build-up to this reveal in the previous books... and then I realized that hell, the hints were there. From as early as the very first book, they were just throwaway lines that didn't seem to mean too much at the time, except in hindsight, they meant so much. This is one of those examples of large-scale plotting that I'm absolutely here for.

And, finally, Cooper and Oliver! They're almost sickeningly sweet together so often at this point, and all this sweetness is so hard-earned and well-deserved. I do hope to see a bit of them here and there in the spin-off, but honestly, they both feel just so ready for their happy ever after. It's been delightful witnessing this relationship from that first meeting on the subway to the absolute fluff of this book's last page, and I just have SO, SO many feels for them. One of my favorite couples ever. <3

Well, this was... pretty different from the first book, even though it's a direct continuation of the same story. A lot of the things I enjoyed about White Trash Warlock are still here: the awesome "parallel worlds" setting with its awesome rules, the Tarot-themed elven courts, the magic, the complex politics between all the supernatural beings, and that whole vibe of big powers placing people as pawns on a cosmic chessboard. I very much enjoyed Adam's storyline, the juxtaposition/intersection of the mundane and the magical in the mystery plot that follows his aunt's death, and the way he continued reforging bonds with his estranged family.

What I didn't love was the other part of the story. I liked Vic in the previous book, but once he become a prominent POV character, a lot of the engagement kind of fell away. Somehow, he turned out to be flatter than I expected. I wasn't a fan of "splitting the party" and having Vic wander off a lot into the elven lands without Adam. I think a big part of that was that it was more boring to see those magical landscapes from the POV of a near-complete outsider, someone discovering this stuff for himself for the first time. Through Adam's eyes, all those dangerous wonders had an added mistique because he was already familiar with them and *still* constantly discovering something new. I would've also preferred to see certain big events in Arden's and Silver's storylines through Adam's eyes rather than Vic's, because while Vic does build his own rapport with both of them, it can't beat Adam's dynamic with Arden developed in the first book, or what Adam's history with Silver adds to their present interactions. Adam's relationship with Vic also kind of meandered throughout the book, and not just while they spent those big chunks of time apart, but when they were together in a scene, too. 

Honestly, the way the split into two POVs here was a disappointment compared to the POV split in the book one, because here it was mainly just "A is here doing X, B is there doing Y, then X and Y storylines intersect," which is a pretty normal thing to do for sure! Except compared to how Bobby's chapters in the first book turned Adam into an unreliable narrator and vise versa and showcased how different a shared history can be... it just felt flat.

Nevertheless, there were a lot of intriguing moving parts to the plot, a lot of unanswered questions that I'd love to figure out the answers to, and once again, a tense cliffhanger. So I very much intend to finish the trilogy. I also suspect that a lot of the weaknesses I saw in this book wouldn't bother me so much if I wasn't comparing it to all the things the first book did better!

I really enjoyed the way the story was constructed, with the dual POVs and the parallel storylines running in both directions in terms of time. It's a really interesting approach that I felt served the story well and really showcased all the little things that, one by one, lead to a friendship breaking.

The very subject of a friendship break up is definitely something that doesn't get enough attention—I don't think I've ever read a book that centers so exclusively around it, and it's such a big thing for actual young adults. Friendships are always important, but childhood friendships you carry into your teens are such a special big deal, and when they either erupt or fizzle out, it's a hard thing to live through. Especially when it happens when there's so much else going on in your lives, and our late teens tend to be the period when there's always a lot going on, even in the healthiest of environments, because adulthood is scary and inevitable and everything keeps changing.

I appreciated how the author showed both points of view without the narrative taking sides, and how distinct both girls' voices felt. Still, I found myself sympathizing with James a lot more, even though both girls definitely messed up, each in their own way. Kat just... seemed so shallow and self-absorbed most of the time, even more so somehow in her own chapters, and while it sucked that James kept big secrets from her and lied by omission, James is clearly the kind of the introverted person that needs to be coaxed gently out of her shell, especially when she suffers a big blow—and she certainly suffered one with her parents' divorce forcing her to impulsively re-evaluate everything about her own life and future. She needed empathy, and Kat was too caught up in herself to truly show it. I do like that throughout the story Kat had to confront that trait of hers numerous times, and not just with James, and she definitely displayed signs of growth. And I can't truly fault her for being a messy teenager dealing with her own very real problems in her own ways. She made me mad a lot, true, but in a way a well-written, well-rounded character makes you mad.

I think I could do with the rest of the cast to be more well-rounded, because there were a lot of people who played a considerable part in the story on one hand and barely had personalities on the other. But overall, this was a really good read that reminded me of some of my own teenage experiences in a nicely bittersweet way.

For the first time over the course of reading this series, I wasn't completely satisfied with the mystery part. All the moving parts didn't fit together as smoothly and excitingly as I've come to expect, and unlike the very previous books, few of the numerous cast members were super distinct. I kept having to look back a few pages and double-check if I understood correctly which person I was reading about.

However, I absolutely, absolutely loved the continuous development of the relationship between Cooper and Oliver. It made me think that I want to read a lot more romance series focused on the same couple, because seeing two characters move so gradually over all the potential pitfalls and always coming through stronger on the other side? It's just so satisfying. I adore how these two keep getting closer and closer, and how they're both making each other better people. Cooper's character growth is all the more apparent in this book, and I'm so here for it. Also happy to see him finally confront the fact that he has PTSD from his backstory events, which has been obvious from book one, but apparently, not to him. Oh, Cooper.

What I also very much enjoyed was learning more about the world of the werewolves, the pack politics, and all the various building blocks of their society. Plenty of super interesting stuff there. And that ending! Makes me certain that book five is going to be really exciting.

All in all, this isn't my favorite installment in the series, but it was still a great read that kept me invested throughout.