Vampire: the Masquerade has been my favorite tabletop roleplaying game for the longest time. V5—the latest/current edition that this interactive novel is directly based on—is my least favorite edition ever, both in terms of system changes and especially because of the metaplot. A big part of it is that by the time the creators of the game shared their vision of how the shadowy vampire world works in the twenty-first century, a lot of us have been telling our own stories of this "future in the present" at our tables. For me, the current metaplot hasn't been able to top the stories I've been a part of, and sticking to it would make continuing those stories impossible. So I've been decisively ignoring most of the V5 products. But I do still love the setting at large, and I also love Choice Of games, so when I found myself craving a dose of conspiracy with fangs, I decided to give it a shot. Happy to report I don't regret it.

Even though this is definitely a V5 story with V5-specific plot points, it gave me plenty of what I love about VtM in general. There were a lot of nods toward VtM: Bloodlines here (one of the best action rpg videogames of all times despite all the bugs, fight me), both explicit and associative. There was a great plot twist early on that turned into a deeply compelling side plot. All the characters I've met were fully fleshed out and interesting, no task my Caitiff-masquerading-as-Ventrue was sent on turned out to be exactly what it seemed, and the selection of choices helped me play out exactly the character arc I wanted and gave me plenty of ideas for future rereads/replays. Closer to the end, though, yet another plot twist that I'm pretty sure is a scripted event that would have occurred regardless of my choices kind of disappointed me. Perhaps it would have felt different if my character had a closer relationship to Julian instead of drifting away from him by the middle. Perhaps not.

I'm also wondering if yet another thing that happened in the final chapter could have been avoided at all. If it was a result of my own sequence of choices that led me to come into the final confrontation with dry veins, it makes for a suitably dramatic outcome. In any other setting, having everything I've worked for and betted on snatched right out of my hands by one oversight would have felt immensely disappointing. In VtM, it's just part for the course. But if that's a scripted part of the pro-Camarilla ending, then there's no real pro-Camarilla ending. Will investigate on a future play-through.

Otherwise, the pacing was tense, the writing was wonderful, the personal horror was there all the damn time, and I read/played through this entire huge interactive novel in one night because I just couldn't stop. The one problem now is I want more, but Choice Of has already promised more so I just need to wait.

Sorry, but I can't. -_- This book looked incredibly promising. The prologue hinted at a good story. The premise is interesting. I always love twists to the Chosen One trope. But the writing is just... not good, and at least through the first 20% the plot sticks way too close to the trope it's trying to subvert. Maybe it gets better further in, but I don't have the patience to find out.

I really liked the first book in the series. The sequel was admittedly somewhat underwhelming. I still enjoyed reading about Bridger and his quirky magical found family, but this part of his journey didn't compel me that much. The myth-related plot had an interesting premise that's right there in the blurb: the host of a cryptid-related tv show is coming to the MC's hometown, and the MC has to stop her from learning the truth about the actual cryptids dwelling here. However, the execution was a bit... all over the place. The stakes appeared high enough, and then they weren't, and then Pavel spent 2/3 books discouraging Bridger from taking any action and gently berates him when Bridger does take action, and then Pavel is the one who messes things up, and then the stakes are suddenly high again, and what is even happening here?

Honestly, at some point I just started being a lot more invested in the non-supernatural parts of the plot. The storyline with Bridger's father was painful, but interesting; I wish they had more than 2.5 scenes together before the final confrontation. Bridger and Leo were as cute together here as they'd been in book 1. I loved the importance they both placed on consent and how they were able to talk honestly to each other. Their prom date was the epitome of cuteness, really.  Astrid grew on me compared to book 1, and I already liked her. Bridger's relationship with his mother was really heartwarming, especially now that he no longer had any reason to fear losing her acceptance. 

So all in all, this is a pretty fun YA novel set in an inventive (sub)urban fantasy world, with a loveable cast of characters, a bisexual disaster protagonist with anxiety who ends up in a safe, self-affirming place, a cute mlm relationship, unicorn poop (you heard that right), and growing up. If I didn't have the first book in The Rules series to compare it to, I'd rate it higher. But I do remember the first book, and how much I loved it, and sadly Monster of the Week falls flat compared to it.

I first read this book shortly after it came out, lured in by the blurb by my very favorite author, Seanan McGuire: "This book is very close to perfect." With all due respect to Seanan, I feel this is an understatement. I'm not entirely sure what I expect from a perfect book, but I feel like The House in the Cerulean Sea surpasses those expectations. It was a brilliant read, it moved me so much, and when I saw one of the January readathons I take part in had a "Book that makes you feel at home" prompt, it was an instant re-read plan. I barely ever re-read books. I feel like I could read this one five times a year and never grow tired of it.

It's because of the characters. It's because of the house that becomes a home. It's because of the sea that can turn into a road. It's because of the idea of going back to your personal hell in order to make it a home for others, and how it's executed. It's because this book is so damn full of radical kindness, radical acceptance.

Throughout the story, Linus, the MC, is constantly challenged to be better, to see deeper, to let go of prejudice and break out of the bubble he lives in—and I feel like the reader is challenged alongside the protagonist. Our world may not have semi-lovecraftian monsters or wyverns or adorable music-loving baby Antichrists (or maybe they all just hide very well). But the moment you look around, you see plenty of different people. People who are unlike you. People who don't always fit your boxes, your bubbles, your ideas on how the world is supposed to work. All of them deserve to be loved for who they are, for who they strive to be. All of them deserve a chance to thrive instead of a requirement to conform. Even those who have spiders in their brains. Those who are different from us aren't the enemy. Our fears, our hates, our preconceived notions are the enemy. And that's an enemy each of us can defeat in our own heads.

(By the way: I love Lucy. Lucy is the best characters in this utterly, completely, 100% loveable cast. I don't know if his Antichrist-ness was intended as a metaphor for neurodivergency/mental illness, but that's how I read him. Having Satan for a father isn't the only way to have spiders in your brain. Sometimes, they are loud, but if you try, if you take care of yourself, if you get help, and if you're loved, and if you love in return, most of the time you can live past those spiders. You can live past where they came from. We're all more than the sum of our parts.)

There are so many details about this story that are hard to put into words without quoting the entire book. There's so much here. So much kindness, and so much love, and so much acceptance. Also, so many reasons for happy, happy tears.

I've been following Isabelle Adler on Twitter for a while now, and I've been long curious about reading her books: the occasional lineshares on Twitter as well as the author's personality made me think she writes the kind of thing I like to read. I only just finally tested the theory—my TBR is vast and insurmountable and fitting new reads there can be tricky, I'm sure you know how it works—and yup! I really loved this book! It was adventurous, romantic, with great characters, interesting bits of worldbuilding, and a political intrigue that had me guessing. There were also interesting family dynamics, and one of my favorite tropes: "keep your magic hidden."

I absolutely love the inclusivity of the setting here. No one is assumed to be straight, cis isn't the absolute default either, nonbinary people casually exist and aren't questioned, and there's zero conflict hinging on the queerness of the main characters (or anyone at all). The MCs were very much my kind of people, Derek especially with his soft manners concealing a steel core of responsibility, duty, and determination.

The romantic storyline itself developed a bit too quickly for my taste. It is, however, entirely a matter of personal preference: in the context of the plot, it worked perfectly. The characters got into some pretty extreme circumstances, having to endure a kidnapping and a prison break together, and that made pushed them together and made them realize things about each other at an equally fast pace. I admit I would have enjoyed following the same two people with the same two traumatic backstories get to know each other at a slower pace, but it would have been a totally different book then. I did very much enjoy the book I got, anyway.

Overall, this was a very enjoyable "arranged marriage turns real" m/m fantasy romance, and I'm excited to read more by this author in the nearest future! :)

Such a lovely read! ❤️️ Literally the only reason it doesn't get a complete 5-star rating from me is that the book could really use an extra editing pass or two. There were quite a few typos, missed words, and such—nothing at all that stood in the way of my enjoyment of the story, but it sometimes interrupted my immersion because I had to take a step back and figure out what actual word should have been there instead of a typo or the like. Maybe it's an ESL thing.

That's literally the only bad thing I can say about this book, though. It's a lovely, lovely romance with some important social commentary. So many beautifully executed romance tropes here: They were roommates! Friends to lovers! Fake dating! Only one bed! Mutual pining! "OMG, so I've been pining all along???" It was just magical and heartwarming all around.

I loved how the story was told in dual timelines: the one about the fake dating leading to romance and the one leading up to that, exploring how Silas and Dino met and clicked and how their friendship evolved. Even though the "past" timeline focuses on the two leads first and foremost, the world around them feels so alive and vibrant—it's clear that they're part of a big, warm queer community and have great support networks. There's a big contrast between that and the "present" scenes with Silas's Conservative family who, with the exception of his sister, diligently tolerate him in this special alienating way that certain families just have.

Silas was one of the most relatable characters I've read about in a while—so many things about him just resonated with me on a deep level. His geekiness, how he uses videogame and D&D terminology to explain the places he's in mentally, his background anxieties about himself, the way he does his best to stay kind and open-hearted, certain aspects of his relationship to his family, how he's out of practice of being the Silas they know and tolerate. I rooted for him and his happy ever after all the way through. Dino's an amazing character, as well: so fun and kind and generous, impulsively stepping in to solve problems, which just might (*cough* certainly will *cough*) create more problems for him to solve down the line. These two are perfect together.

Also, I certainly feel for how everyone's here addicted to coffee. 😂 And now I kind of want some beet hummus...

This was a really cute read to finish one year in books and start another.

The first story, I Ate the Whole World to Find You, fell a bit flat for me despite having some of my favorite tropes; I guess I didn't connect with the characters enough. It was still very cute, though!

The August Sands, the second story, is probably my favorite. I really felt for Tommy, the MC, and the mood was exactly right for my state of mind: a combination of hopefulness and melancholy. The vibe here reminded me of What If It's Us by Adam Silvera and Becky Albertalli.

The third one, Love in the Time of Coffee, is also a strong contender for a favorite. I'm a sucker for friends-to-lovers romance, and also, coffee? Coffee is like my entire identity on some days. :D It was very cute, the pining was appropriately heartbreaking, and the hope for the HEA was always there with the smell of coffee.

Finally, GIlded Scales is something I feel like I'd enjoy more if it came in a novella form. I really liked the worldbuilding here and would love to get more of it. Even as a short story, it was very nice, and Fenn is an amazing main character.

All in all, a very nice collection—I'm happy I've read it.

Wow. This was really quite a ride. And now I struggle to put my conflicting feelings into words, but I guess I'll try.

I really wanted to like this book, and the thing is, it has all the makings of a dark fantasy novel for me to love. (There were parts that were incredibly disturbing to read, especially knowing that they were essentially a retelling of actual history, but hey, I've seen the content warnings and knew what I was getting into.) I like dark fantasy, on occasion. I like fantasy world build upon cultural backgrounds different from the "so, this is basically Western Europe but fantasy" usual. I like flawed, tragic antihero type protagonists who go from "genocide is horrible" to "so I'll genocide you right back." I like stories about gods and magic. I like magic that comes at a high cost.

This book has it all, and yet in many regards, it falls flat.

Maybe it's the somewhat uneven pacing. Maybe it's the somewhat messy worldbuilding; at the start it seemed like a medieval-ish world (although some of the language used, particularly in dialogue, kept making me feel like this was a later period), then as the story progressed and the author drew more and more from the actual 20th century history... well, I'd like a smoother transition from "we're starting the story in a medieval military school" to "chemical warfare and science labs." Occasional namedropping straight from the real world didn't help immersion, either.

Or maybe it's the characters. I always connect to the stories through characters first and foremost, and The Poppy War didn't make it easy. Among the secondary cast, there were some characters who held my attention, all of them introduced pretty early on: Altan, Kitay, Nezha. Others had their moments, but didn't feel fully developed to me. Rin, the protagonist, was the hardest case. I expect the protagonist to be the one who anchors me to the story. I don't have to like them, but I have to get them. Rin was really hard to get for at least half of her story.

Initially, she wants to escape her crappy foster family and the prospect of an arranged marriage. And her only way to do so is by acing the super complex exam and getting into a super prestigious academy. Except it's not really her only prospects. She thinks of a few more in passing as she waits for the exam results. But that's the only one she cares for. Why exactly? It's... not very clear. Then when she's at the academy surrounding by people who outrank her from birth, she wants to prove herself and show them she's worthy of being here, which I get... until she suddenly decides that what she really wants is power. Okay, that's a great motivation, why does she want it? What exactly she's going to do with it? What's her reason to want power? Um, she just wants it.

It's only more or less mid-book that she can explain with both words and consistent action why she wants power: because then there's no one she won't be able to save. From about that point, I was drawn a lot more into the story and more invested into the events of it and Rin's quest for power (and the inevitable corruption it brings). The story still felt somewhat scattered, uneven, rocky, but at least the protagonist finally had a consistent motivation. If I were this invested from the beginning, the flaws re: pacing, worldbuilding, and plotting would be a lot easier to overlook. Unfortunately, I'd already spent half of the book noticing them all before I could get the protagonist.

I think the main problem for me here is that there's so much crammed into one book. Perhaps if it were split into two distinct novels, each of those two hypothetical books would flow a lot better, there'd be room for better character development, tighter plotting, and more coherent worldbuilding. It's not about word count, mind; more about the structure. It's like there are two stories, the one that starts in chapter one and ends somewhere in Part II, and another one, the sequel to the first one, that tries to start early in Part II, and they kind of overlap awkwardly.

Reading this book, overall, was like eating a salad made of all my favorite ingredients, but in the wrong proportion.

I still want to read the sequel sometime.

Beautifully written, but as I got through a few chapters, I realized I'm in the entirely wrong brainspace for this book. I'll revisit it later.

I'm always so, so here for ace romance, and this is such a beautiful, thoughtful example for it. It contains so many of my favorite tropes: Slow burn! Hurt/comfort! Win their heart by cooking for them! At one point in the story, there's even Only One Bed—and it has absolutely, completely, wholly nothing to do with sex and everything to do with trust. I'd say that trust is the key theme in this story, and I loved watching it gradually unfold between these two complicated, closed-off men. This book is very much an office romance, but the office is a secret agency, and that fits these two characters and their relationship so well, creating the perfect opportunities for more secrets and silence to work through.

I really liked the supporting cast, too: Arthur's friend Carol, the nameless agents reacting to the one-sided conversation they had to eavesdrop on, the Shipper on Deck!librarian, the exasperated doctor, Arthur's complicated family, his mom's best friend. I liked the flow of the story and the prose, although to be fair I do feel there were parts that could have benefitted from an extra editing pass.

The one thing that prevents me from giving this book a solid five-star rating is that it feels somehow... incomplete? Not entirely resolved? It's not its fairly short length; it's just that I feel like there's so much I still don't know about these two characters, no matter how much I've grown to love them. Martin especially, but Arthur, too, even though as the narrator he sure opens up a lot more to the reader.  I really, really want to read a sequel, but googling shows that so far it only exists in the form of a 4K-words-long short story that hardly has the space to reveal a lot more than the novel already has. I still really want to read it, though, because Martin's POV? And more library kids? And, once again, Martin's POV? Yes please!