This was a pretty enjoyable read with a great, twisty adventure-and-investigation plot unfolding alongside the central romance storyline, set in a quirky, inventive fantasy world. At the heart of it, the romance felt similar to the first book in the series: to people struggling with their own demons and the sense of not being good enough, but still ultimately coming together. However, Isthvan and Clara are rather different from Stephen and Grace, and their story takes a different spin. 

Put into the spotlight, Isthvan initially felt somewhat different from how he appeared in his side character position in Paladin's Grace. A bit blander, perhaps, and less confident? It seemed like he could benefit from some of the same pep talks he gave Stephen in the first book. Still, the longer I spent in his company, the more I connected to him, and the weaker that feeling of "difference" became; eventually I've come to feel the way he's perceived by friends and what's going on in his head are two perfectly logical sides of the same coin. I enjoyed reading about his perception of what all the paladins of his Order had gone through. In the first book, Stephen focused mainly on the trauma from their god dying and the immediate aftermath with its awful events. Isthvan digs deeper, examining the times when the Saint of Steel was still alive and all the paladins were holy and righteous and always knew what to do—or so they perceived themselves. These small differences make me especially curious to read the next installment and to see what angle Galen brings to the table.

Clara captivated me from the very first page, and my attachment only kept growing throughout the book. She's such a strong, brave, and determined character, and she never stops being any of that when she deals with her very understandable insecurities. There was something highly compelling about her thought process regarding all the challenges the plot threw her way, and how she clearly strived to remain honest with herself even when she kept secrets from others. I was also enchanted by her relationship to faith and the way it subtly evolved throughout her journey.

As a couple, I felt these characters worked so well together. That one scene where they openly talked about their pasts, finding common ground to relate to each other's pretty unique situation, is going to stick with me. I loved the banter between them and the way they so clearly lifted each other up.

The one thing that perhaps didn't sit well with me was the uneven pacing. The first half of the book was perfect, with a very steady, very gradually increasing pace. By the middle, there was a clear slog, though, and once things started picking up again, it was kind of patchy. The last few chapters felt somewhat rushed. That made the plot a bit harder to follow than I would've liked. 

 

This was a fun and fairly lighthearted read that combined two of my favorite things: a queer romance and a D&D-esque adventure romp. Exactly the type of story I'd love to see more of! The characters all had their fun quirks, although I do feel like most of the supporting cast could have been a bit more realized. Then again, perhaps that's what the following installments in the series are for (and I'll definitely keep reading it).

I found the main plot twist to be rather transparent. However, it was accompanied by plenty of smaller twists, some of which felt like they came from patching potential plot holes in the most haphazard and 
slapstick way possible. (In case you can't tell, I wholeheartedly approve.) There were plenty of laugh-out-loud moments in every chapter, some coming from those twists, even more erupting from the clever dialogue and the characters' personality clashes. The humor, the adventure, and the romantic storyline all felt naturally woven together.

And, oh! The dragon. This book has the tiniest, cutest fire-breathing dragon you'll ever meet. I want one of my own; how dare dragons not exist in the real world? 

I've always been fascinated by the relationship dynamics between nemesis, and this comic is built entirely around that: the balance, the adversity, the co-dependence between a hero and a villain, mostly from the villain's point of view. I suppose it was impossible for me not to like it, despite all the confusion within the plot. It took me a very long time to figure out how the two plots—the villain returning to make sure the hero's doing his job and the boy growing up in a broken home—actually fit together. :) Overall, this was an engaging read with great art. 

Wow. My mixed feelings are so mixed.

I'll start with the good stuff: I really enjoyed the writing. There were a lot of cool turns of phrase, a lot of small nods to the first book that helped me recreate it in my mind, and lots and lots of super amusing banter. I do admit it took me a few chapters to grasp the difference in the two MCs' voices and to start recognizing whose chapter I'm reading by more than just the heading. That lasted only for the first 7-10% of the book, though.

The story itself, on the other hand... Well, for starters, there hardly was an actual story. It was more like a bunch of events? The only narrative thread that held my attention and felt like it played out really well from start to finish was Dylan and Samantha's. And the main characters just... annoyed me so, so much. I've come to hate Arthur for how he treated Mickey. Ben was marginally better with Mario, I guess, but maybe that's only because the bar, thanks to Arthur, was so abysmally low. It's hard to root for characters who treat others this way. I kinda get being still hung up on an ex (believe me, I get it; when I was in my late teens, I would have easily won Olympic gold in long-distance obsessing if that was a sport). I don't get being dishonest and hurting other people over it, especially when it just takes a bit of thinking to figure out how much damage miscommunication can bring.

The funny thing is, I remember loving the first book up until the ending and then feeling really dissatisfied with it. I kind of got the point—not every big teenage romance works out, the experience is still important, life goes on. But I felt like the ending didn't fit that particular story, like these two messy boys were destined for a happy ever after. Later, I read another queer YA novel that had the main couple break up eventually, and that one didn't give me any of the same dissonanse. In case you're wondering what it was and don't mind this huge, huge spoiler, I'm talking about

Like a Love Story by Abdi Nazemian.

So I should have enjoyed the story of Ben and Arthur getting back together, right? Yeah. I thought so, too. But the longer I read this book, the more the story felt unnecessary. Maybe the first ending was right all along. Maybe staying apart would have been the real happy ending. Because honestly, it's not just that these guys are awful to other people, it's that they're pretty damn bad for each other. Their interactions are an endless cycle of drama and miscommunication, and the sudden mood whiplash when they finally reunite and the last few chapters turn into a total fluff fest only serves to punctuate this. Also, they were initially together for a couple of weeks. Why should two weeks that happened when they were sixteen overshadow every experience they've accumulated since? 

This might well be the first picture book I've read since I was the age to read picture books (the things we do for reading challenges... :D). I found it lovely, especially the artwork—I simply couldn't look away from some of the pages. The story made me consider things about colorism that I was only tangentially aware of as a white person. I think it sends a great message to kids who are dark-skinned like Sulwe, as well as to kids in general. Anyone can have classmates or neighbors who look different; it's important to remember that the differences doesn't make those people any less beautiful or bright. 

 

This was a really nice, heartwarming read. I loved all the vivid descriptions of life in Ethiopia, and I also loved that both leads were such genuinely good, kind people. It was wonderful to see them get their happiness, and while both of them had to face their share of troubles, joyful and happy moments absolutely prevailed, true to the book's name. All in all, this was a great summer read.

Despite the fact that I enjoyed hanging out with these characters, it was a bit hard to get invested in the romance itself, but that's totally a "me" thing. I often find it difficult to emotionally process romantic plots that begin as a crush/sexual attraction as opposed to an emotional connection coming first. Once feelings got involved, though, the story immediately grew even more compelling. 

I have a couple of minor gripes with the writing style; the dialogue didn't always sound natural to me, and I felt like there was a bit too much telling instead of showing. However, what really kept me hooked on the prose was literally every description. It was like I was seeing all those places, tasting all that food, and drinking all that coffee. And I'm always here for a book that makes me feel like I'm drinking a nice cup of coffee! :) 

Slice-of-life fantasy just might be my very favorite genre. I mean, people figuring out their lives and minds while doing ordinary things against the backdrop of the magical and the extraordinary? Give me all of that! Unfortunately, I don't often get to enjoy these stories in book form. I tend to get my kicks in the realms of audiodrama podcasts and webcomics, and I find it eternally weird that there are so few slice-of-life fantasy novels. What is it about books as a medium that doesn't lend itself well to telling stories of this sort? Nothing! Absolutely nothing, books are perfect for telling these stories, they're just weirdly underused.

Anyway! I was overjoyed when I discovered that Legends & Lattes exists, and it was even better to actually read it. This book is everything I want slice-of-life fantasy to be. Just like the cover promises, the stakes are delightfully low and down-to-earth; instead of epic battles and heroic victories, we get the story of establishing a coffee shop in a fantasy city, with a big focus on the character and her mental health. Viv is a former adventurer who wants to start over; to build and create something instead of constantly hitting things. I think she does a great job.

There are lots of colorful characters in this story, lots of coffee and baked goods, and a plot that, in all honesty, could use just a little bit of tightening up, but was still delightful throughout. It took me a couple of chapters to get into the author's writing style for some reason; once I got used to it, though, I remained hooked into the story throughout. 

 

The Seducing the Sedgwicks series has been on my radar for a while now, and I was honestly planning to read it in order. But then a friend sang praises to this particular book and assured me it could be read as a standalone, and words such as "friends to lovers," "demisexual protagonist," "chronic illness" and "only one bed in a remote countryside cottage" were slung around, and—well. I simply couldn't resist.

Looking back, I think "can be read as a standalone" is a bit of an overstatement. I can't say I felt particularly lost at any stage of the novel, but I do think I would have benefited from being better acquainted with the entire cast. Nevertheless, I enjoyed this gentle story a lot. I mean, I wanted to shake both characters quite often because I needed them to get out of their heads and start actually tackling their problems instead of constantly blowing them out of proportion (as if those problems weren't serious enough to start with). But I could also see each guy's reasoning for acting this way. This is a story ripe with dramatic misunderstandings that look totally reasonable when you're locked in a character's viewpoint, and I'm very much here for that.

I do feel like the subject of Martin's tuberculosis deserved a bit more discussion between him and WIll (isn't it contagious?). On the other hand, this two have known each other for ages and it's mentioned that Will is familiar with the disease from taking care of his mother. So perhaps it makes sense for some things to be left unspoken between them. All in all, it was awesome to see a chronically ill character get his HEA, as well as not to have him be reduced to his sickness. Consumption is just one of the things Martin deals with, and his personality isn't shaped by it. The same can be said about Will and his PTSD. That gets a yay from me.

I also need to add that I loved so many of the supporting characters. I definitely need to check out the first two books of the series sooner rather than later; perhaps I'll get to know them better! I especially loved Martin's aunt with her matter-of-fact attitude and off-handish kindness. 

 

Well, this was weird. 

At the beginning, the book seemed really promising. The writing and the general vibe reminded me of Rory Powers, an author whose books I've enjoyed a lot. I was looking forward to unraveling this story of an elite summer camp with a murder cult. However, the way the story was constructed didn't really work for me. I think my main issues were pacing and flow. All of it just didn't feel... consistent, I think? Very few things seemed properly foreshadowed, and the transitions between the story beats were the opposite of smooth.

I suppose the author may have been aiming to recreate the teenage emotional experience, in a way. You know how it is, when emotions run wild, and something may feel like the best thing ever one day and the total end of the world the next day. However, I don't think these extremes were handled properly here. It's hard to connect to the character or the plot when everything's so all over the place. One moment the character is all shy and socially awkward and desperate to fit in; then a few chapters in, she suddenly reveals a hidden depth that's supposedly always been there. "Oh, I've always had this hidden side where I make people feel afraid of me" — really? Because it feels like that side spawned into existence randomly when the plot demanded it. 

Overall, it seemed to me like Arlee spent most of the story reacting only to the latest story development, and not to the entire sequence of events she's a part of. As soon as the situation changes around her, her reactions and plans take a dramatic turn, too, with very little internal struggle. The things that mattered to her a few chapters ago stop being that big of a deal as soon as new circumstances present themselves or a revelation occurs. She's also incredibly quick to take things at face value. Someone's nice to her, so she loves them. Someone she doesn't even trust tells her a person she cares for is bad, and she immediately starts treating them as a bad person. Etc, etc.

Perhaps this is meant to be a feature and not a bug, but it made it really hard for me to relate to Arlee or her story. And the funny thing is, I'm saying this as a person who's actually very prone to emotional extremes. It also didn't help that the characters who were actually driving the plot lacked depth and clear motivation. All of it really felt more like a collection of random events than a plot.

That said, I did like the book enough to finish it. There were scenes that hit hard in isolation. There were moments I really vibed with. I enjoyed how queernorm the book is; no one made a big deal out of the MC's sexuality, and there were plenty of other queer characters, including a trans girl in the MC's cabin, and characters with queer parents—and those things were just mentioned, accepted, and, once again, no one made a big deal out of it. That's something I always enjoy seeing. I also enjoyed how the scenes with the secret society's rituals were written; each was really vivid, making me feel like I was watching a cool horror movie. 

 

I adore slice-of-life fantasy, and this webcomic is a perfect example of it. It's a story about a textblind witch who pursues an apprenticeship at a magic shop instead of going to university, and there's so much magic and warmth here. 

I loved how each character gained more depth every time they showed up on the page. Everyone who surrounds Wisteria, from her new teacher to her father (who mostly shows up in flashback and a long-distance conversation) to her crow familiar felt wonderfully well-developed.

What I loved almost more was the worldbuilding; the magic system based on the objects' memories and all the small details that brought the world to life, including a brief acknowledgment of time zones. And, of course, it was great to spend time in such a queernorm and otherwise inclusive world. I love fantasy settings that deal with disabilities by inventing ways magic can help with accessibility instead of simply providing magical insta-cures.

The artwork is absolutely gorgeous, and the way panels/pages flow into each other made me feel more like I was watching an animated movie than reading a comic. And there's beautiful music, too! :)