I'm really, really glad I got the Jackpot Edition. Because I loved the main story and deeply appreciated the whole "it's never too late to turn your life around and be happy" theme, but at the same time, for a story covering several decades, it felt somewhat... rushed? Like, outside of several event sequences, most of the time the narrative just told me what happened, not how it happened. There were all those gaps that begged to be filled.

And then I got to the end of the book and there were all those neat little snippets by various authors that did fill all those gaps. Little slice-of-life bits focusing precisely on all the how's, fleshing out the characters and the relationships between them. All those bits truly made the book shine for me. I wish they could be spread out throughout the story.

Also, the art is so gorgeous and so vibrant, and the bittersweet ending was beautiful! <3

My favorite installment in this series, and the whole reason I've decided to re-read it. Perhaps it would even be fair to say this is one of my favorite romances, period. I love stories where there are very real barriers between the romantic leads, and they still gravitate toward each other and then work—on their relationship, but especially on themselves—to dismantle those barriers. I love seeing people change their lives for the better, not for somebody, but for themselves first; making changes to include the other person because being together makes them happier, but not overhauling their lives for the sake of a relationship. Because there's a line there, not even a particularly fine one where I'm concerned, but it so often gets blurred. Not in this book, there. Here, it's acknowledged and placed front and center and I'm very much here for it. 

Also, Nathaniel and Justin's enemies-to-lovers dynamic and chemistry are just so well done altogether, outside of all those other aspects. The way they both really see each other, underneath all the incompatible values; the way what they're seeing becomes more important than the incompatibilities; the way Nathaniel does his best to understand; the way Justin discovers safe ways to be vulnerable—I loved reading all of this.

Also, unlike the first book in the series, the next part of the overarching mystery that unfolds here blends beautifully with the romantic storyline. The two plots are constantly interwoven, all the mystery developments pushing the romance forward, and all the romance changes affecting how the mystery/intrigue plot plays out directly. Absolutely a great read.

This was a really quick read for me—much quicker than I anticipated! In many ways, I would call this a rather typical YA contemporary book, with all the doubts, trials, and confusion you'd expect from a bunch of teenagers trying to figure themselves out the summer before their senior year. But the characters are incredibly compelling, the prose is warm and engrossing, and there's so much impact on found family. It was great to see a cast of character that was so diverse, so supportive of each other, and also, to see the adults in the kids' lives trying their best, like the coach and Bastian's Mom. Even though the book also deals with the ever-complicated issues of self-esteem, coming out, body issues, and more, it is ultimately super focused on acceptance and really, really heartwarming. A perfect read for a wintry day, all in all.

Oh, and also: childhood friends to enemies to lovers is probably my top favorite romance dynamic, and it was done so well here. Bastian and Emir's journey was believable and fulfilling and put a smile on my face more than once. It was messy at times, too, but aren't teenagers always?

This isn't my usual genre, but I really enjoyed the book—or at the very least, the first two thirds of the story or so. The central mystery was compelling, just like all the smaller mystery springing up from underneath it. I very much enjoyed how the story was constructed, with all the shifts in timelines and POVs, and certain parts getting showed from the POVs of outsiders: waiters, hairdressers, neighbors, clients. It gave the book more of a cinematic feel and strongly drew attention to what I felt was the central theme—how people and relationships look vs what they are really like. It also made sense for the number of scenes from the POVs of central characters increased, as we got deeper and deeper to the heart of the story. This harmony of shape and substance was probably my favorite part of the book. 

The whole tangled web of family secrets, delayed hurts, conflicts, disagreements, and misunderstandings was really compelling. There was a whole lot stuff here: the sibling rivalries, the changing relationships between parents and grown-up children, life in retirement, parental expectations, mistakes of previous generations still weighing heavily on their descendants, mental health, chronic illness, and so much more. Somehow, all the elements worked really well together to create a vibrant, believable landscape of a complicated family.

Once all the puzzle pieces were on the table, though, I felt like they got slotted together just a little too neatly and the good ending was a little too good. Also, a few of the last chapters—the ones between the first covid mention and the quite fitting very last chapter—felt kind of tacked on, like the author decided to extend the story for no real reason. Maybe to ground it more in the present day reality, with all the pandemic impact. In that sense, I guess it worked, but it still felt like the story was already over and who knew why the characters were hanging around.

The main thing about this novelette that's without a doubt going to stick with me is the setting. It is simply gorgeous and so full of surprises. Djinns, ghouls, angels, mysterious clockwork automatons—all of this fits seamlessly into the cityscape of historical Cairo. There's so much packed in such a tiny space, and every little bit just begs to be explored further.

The setting also makes the plot a lot more exciting. Looking back, I can see how it's maybe not quite as twisty as it felt while I was reading the story. But the way this action mystery unfolded, gradually revealing more and more information about this version of the world, really kept me on the edge of my seat. Something new and exciting happened basically every few paragraphs.

Unfortunately, the detailed setting and the fast-paced events kind of overshadowed the characters completely for me. There were a few interesting moments that intrigued me about Fatma, and in general I was left with the impression that I wouldn't mind getting to know all these people further. But I also don't feel like I've started getting to know them at all. That's all right; not every story needs to be super character-driven! But this did diminish my enjoyment a little bit, purely as a matter of personal taste.

This has got to be one of the most atmospheric books I've read in a while. All the descriptions and vibes just pulled me in, and it was like walking through a dream the entire time, engrossed and detached in equal measure.

My previous experience with Arden Powell's book (the Flos Magicae series) led me to expect this will be a romance with some horror on the side, but really, it's pretty much the opposite. While there is a romantic/sexual relationship at the heart of the events in the book, this is really a horror story about guilt and revenge and consequences, and the romantic plot just serves to emphasize all the other elements, weaving with them seamlessly. Reading this book was like taking a nap somewhre by the mires on a hot summer day, being dimly aware of the real world but also getting plagued by surface-level dreams that might be hallucinations and sometimes maybe letting your brain convince you that what you're seeing is real. Or maybe letting your brain convince you that it's just a dream. I can say I quite enjoyed the experience. 

Also, I kind of want to know what happens after that ending... but I also kind of don't. Some things, perhaps, are better left undisturbed.

I really wish I liked this book more than I actually did. Because there was so much cool stuff here! The setting itself is beatuifully executed: all the historical details merged seamlessly with the added element of zombies, and all that light shed on the kind of people history loves to forget. The cast of characters is wonderfully diverse and pretty much everyone gets a moment to shine. There are plenty of little scenes that absolutely beg to play out on a tv screen. I loved the inclusion of Katherine as a narrator in her own right; I feel her chapters added a lot to the story, especially in the first part when Jane is largely out of action and mostly gets to be heartbroken over at least two different people. I liked every single action sequence.

But at the same time, all this awesomeness just never clicked into a solid story for me. The pacing is super rocky. There's that entire first half where nothing much happens until the plot twist in the middle. There are two absolutely beautiful chapters at the beginning of the first half (seriously, my favorite in the whole book and possibly the whole series) that carry such promise about all the change that happened to the characters, and then the story starts to meander again. A lot of the really important events happen either entirely off-screen or are jumbled into something very short; meanwhile, what feels like merely connective tissue drags on for pages and pages. There are numerous plot threads, including some coming all the way from the first book, that are underdeveloped or left hanging. 

I frequently react to novellas with, "I wish this was a full-scale novel." With this book, my reaction is the opposite: I wish this was a novella. Or a string of short stories. Maybe all those meaningful parts would shine brighter if they weren't bogged down in all the rockiness!

I think I enjoyed this novel much better this time than I had the first time I read it what feels like ages ago. Still, it's far from my favorite of K.J. Charles's works. For once, even though I obviously knew what I was getting this time, I still found myself really annoyed by the discrepancy between the summary and the actual book. This isn't a slow burn romance! I mean, it technically is—the characters have been friends for a while, there was mutual pining, yadda yadda. But all of it largely happens in the backstory. A bit of it is condensed in a couple of chapters, but really, almost as soon as the story kicks off, so does the actual relationship. And I feel like this romance would work so much better if it was actually a proper slow burn, if we got to see more of that pining stage.

Even so, I still enjoyed it a lot. I got really attached to Clem, and I really liked the portrayal of his neurodivergency. Rowley grew on me a lot more than I expected as I read—he's got a beautifully layered personality that I feel I didn't fully appreciate on my first read-through. The conflict, drenched in these two men's respective pasts and formative experiences as well as their present world views that were born of those, was believable and engrossing. All those beats I love about friends-to-lovers romances were perfectly executed: the "we already know and understand each other so well!" feeling, the growing proximity, the part where the pair stumbles upon things they didn't quite expect from/in each other, not knowing how to deal with this, then learning how to deal. I also really liked the quiet slice-of-life feel of the romantic storyline, all the historical details, and everything related to the Knight and Knave Club.

The one thing, apart from the lack of actual on-page slow burn, that stood in the way of my enjoyment was the balance between the romantic storyline and the mystery—or rather, lack thereof. The mystery works really, really well to showcase Clem's and Rowley's respective deals, the scars their pasts had left on them and the conflict they need to overcome on their way to their happy ever after. However, that only becomes evident around the final third of the book. Before that, the parts of the plot that focus on the mystery felt like these... kinda disruptive flashes of high stakes and violence that clashed, for me, with the quieter slice-of-life feel of the rest of the story.

Well... This was even less of a romcom than Rosaline's book had been. :D I have honestly no idea why these series is marketed the way it is. 

Anyway, here's what I liked about this book:

- The cat with the name I won't mention for fear of messing it up with typos;
- All the baking;
- The supporting cast, although they were all far less realized than the contestants from the first book (but that makes sense—Rosaline paid a lot more attention to other people than Paris);
- The really accurate and detailed depiction of what extreme anxiety feels like. Because, yeah. All the catastrophizing and second-guessing and getting so caught up in trying to avert all the worst-case scenario that you create an even worse scenario? That's exactly what this shit is like.

It's worth noting, though, that while Paris initially seemed like the kind of person who tries to get to a good place but is constantly hindered by his undiagnosed, untreated anxiety, he is... not quite that. Anxiety makes him more self-absorbed, sure, because, well, all the endless exhausting fears *are* absorbing. But it doesn't seem to be the root cause at all. He's fortunate to have people in his life who both care for him and call him out on his bullshit, but it sure takes him a lot of time to start actually doing something about his problems. 

And here's what I really didn't like about the book, by the way: most of the story depicts Paris sinking closer and closer to rock bottom, making two steps back for every step forward, coming very close to messing up even the parts of his life that were okay/his safe haven at the start. And then, um, there's a gap, and afterward, we see him already having started on the journey to getting better. I honestly keep feeling like my copy of the novel has a bunch of pages missing, because honestly, wtf? After spending so long accompanying Paris down to that botom, I felt like I deserved to witness some of his actual journey back up. As it was, I feel kind of cheated.

As for the romance, I really, really liked Tariq and would love to see more of his life, especially once he starts his own BBC show. I liked how ready he was to give Paris chances, and how ready he was nevertheless to set and protect his own borders, and how he took a step back when the relationship between them began harming him. I'm not sure I liked Tariq and Paris as a couple even for a hot minute, too, and it was almost funny how I found myself, even while witnessing the story through Paris's POV, rooting for Tariq against the relationship. Which ones gain brings me to the point I started with: this is so not a romcom. It's not even really an angsty romance. Why, marketing people, why? Why do you lie to me?

Ouch. Wow. This actually hurt a lot.

I mean, I kind of expected it to; from the last few pages of the previous volume it was kind of clear adjusting to Janek's hometown would be trickier than traveling through the woods. But I've kind of come to expect a certain level of hurt/comfort from this comic series, and this volume was practically all hurt. There were a few moments that promised hope, but they were few and far between and really not the point of the story. Not to mention that they don't even occur between the two leads, with possibly one exception.

At the same time, I'm not sure this could have unfolded any differently. The depiction of mental struggles continues to be sensitive and realistic. Janek, once he's back under his mother's roof, clearly delves back into old habits he had been discarding during his earlier travels and can only think of earning his mother's trust... by being constantly, ridiculously overworked as a result of the decision she makes against his will, and honestly I don't know what this woman agenda is, but I'm convinced she's kind of evil. Chepi, meanwhile, agrees to stay for Janek, but he hardly ever sees Janek, the town as an environment is way wrong for him, he is plagued by PTSD-induced memories and panic attacks, and he falls into that trap people with crippling anxiety know so well: the one where everybody thinks you're stuck-up and hostile while you're afraid of everyone and barely managing to keep your shit together. Naturally, they snap, and they snap at each other for reasons that are both completely justified and really unfair, and... have I mentioned yet that this hurt?

The characterization is fantastic, the art is fabulous, and the emotional storytelling is to die for. And it's very understandable a story like this will have its dark moments. At the same time, I feel like there was slightly too much of a detour from the established vibe. Perhaps this is a structural problem and just moving a bit of the flashbacks stuff from the previous volume to this one would help. Perhaps this volume just needed a couple of softer flashbacks from the boys' travels together, reminding the reader that they *can* work really well together, when they get to actually spend time together and talk to each other, not to their exhaustion and/or trauma.

Also, I sure hope that in Volume IV they *both* get to leave this town. I get it, it's Janek's home, but sometimes where we're planted really isn't where we bloom. At the very least, I hope he's going to stand up to his mother!