Definitely a high note to finish my reading year on! I’ve missed Murderbot’s special deadpan voice. It remains one of the most relatable sci-fi characters ever for me, and I was delighted to read about the complex emotional reactions it’s been having. Particularly toward Dr. Mensah (can a robot have friends? particularly when the friend is actually technically their owner? but doesn’t seem to want them to be a robot?). Who happens to be kidnapped and in need of rescue, so here we go.

The pacing here felt really fast—faster, perhaps, than it actually is in terms of events progression. Like, there’s definitely some build-up to the action parts, but I still felt like I was dropped right in the thick of it from the first pages. I think that’s because this is so explicitly a series installment, building up on the problems and plot threads of the story before this novella, bringing in old friends and enemies. It kind of feels like I’ve just turned a page and landed into the next chapter leading up to an exciting plot point. A good thing, to be clear! Especially since in reality it’s been months since the previous installment for me. Maybe one day when I’m finished with the series I’ll re-read it in binge mode and see how it feels without breaks between books.

All in all, this continues to be an excellent space opera with a strong cyberpunk vibe, combining action and adventure with some discussion on (not) being human. It’s snarky, smart, and so, so engrossing. I pretty much inhaled it in one go.

Second chance romance is among my favorite tropes/subgenres, and this time of the year calls for Christmas romcoms, so I was pretty excited for this book. Two exes stuck together in an adorable holiday home with potentially matchmaking friends, what’s not to love? The execution of the core trope, apparently, that’s what! You’re probably far more likely to enjoy it if you’re into second chance stories where the leads pretty much pick up where they left off, but after some drama. In that case, I actually recommend this book a lot! If, however, you’re like me and what you’re looking in second chance romance is more that “it was the right person in the wrong time” feel—seeing the characters meet again in different states of mind, having them internalized and processed past experiences to an extent, still the same people at their core but not likely to make the very same mistakes—then… Honestly, maybe sit this one out.

While I didn’t really like the main characters and can’t ever be convinced they can build a lasting relationship again, I want to say I did enjoy the writing. It flowed pretty smoothly, the Hallmark movie-style winter holiday vibes were thick and palpable, and all the romcom beats were hit just right, with some light twist now and then. Also, while the leads weren’t my kind of people, I really admire the character work here. Both Charlotte’s and Brighton’s flaws are internally consistent, solid, and understandable. They’re very fleshed-out characters who come alive on the page. I dislike them as fictional people, but I also feel the author did a great job with them both.

Speaking of that dislike… let’s start with Brighton, the runaway bride. She grated on my nerves so much with her… I guess the word here is immaturity? She’s the kind of person who may dramatically blame herself for her wrongdoings sitting around on her own, but when it comes to actually assuming responsibility, she doesn’t know how. She is mad that Charlotte doesn’t want to speak with her when they both end up in the same house for the holidays (because their friends who invite them over happen to be, unbeknownst to Brighton and Charlotte, sisters). That’s when she literally left Charlotte at the altar and when she knows that Charlotte has childhood trauma around abandonment, so it’s to be expected that event caused an extra amount of damage. Like… maybe give that girl a moment before getting upset with her?

There were also those slightly toxic moments when she kept calling Charlotte by her old nickname despite Charlotte asserting several times she’d prefer her full name now, or when she

tried to initiate a “let’s give this one more chance” talk when Charlotte was really drunk and clearly not thinking straight.

And while I definitely don’t think it’s wrong of her to rely on other people a lot—community and friendship are awesome!—the specific *way* she leaned on others, combined with the rest of it, left me feeling iffy. It’s kind of like she expected people to just read her and give her what she needs or even force her toward it—and then if that somehow happened, everything was awesome, but in the more likely event that the other person wasn’t telepathic, it was their fault.

But then there was also Charlotte, who admittedly took longer to piss me off (mostly because “emotionally constipated human-shaped icicles who are only like that because life hurt them so much” are kinda my type in fiction), but then managed to do so with gusto. See, she just. Never stopped running away. Her first instinct upon seeing Brighton was to pretend she doesn’t know her. She kept backing out of all important conversations, shutting out her friends, avoiding topics that hurt her, trying to ignore those topics out of existence, etc, etc. And apparently,

she used to display a milder version of all those same qualities back during her relationship with Brighton. So while I do think Brighton needed to be explicit and straightforward about her problems rather than hinting and being vague, Charlotte absolutely did her part in keeping things vague. In a way, she ran away first—from Brighton’s worries and from all the ways they were not quite compatible at that stage of life

.

Come to think of it, if there was no second chance element (or if it was a red herring and the real romance happened, say, between Charlotte and Wes, or between Brighton and some other character), I would have enjoyed exploring either character’s neuroses. But with the plot being as it is, I just kept looking at the two of them displaying all the same qualities that broke them apart in the first place, made *worse* by the years… and, like, nah. Please keep these two away from each other. Okay, maybe let them spend some time together and get closure, then put at least three major cities between them and may they never meet again.

I did really like how the author developed these characters by constantly contrasting them with each other. For example, early on she shows them in the very same situation: driving up to the house where they’ll be staying. They display completely opposite reactions to the coziness and the decorations—and both react that way because it reminds them of literally the same place. Or when they finally confess to someone about their history:

Charlotte chooses to take the opportunity to confess to Wes, no one pushes her to do it, whereas Brighton gets literally cornered by Adele. On one hand, it shows which one is more mature and proactive. On the other hand, it also shows how Charlotte builds up walls and would rather talk to a stranger than a friend/someone she shares part of her life with. While Brighton has built the kind of life where someone who cares about her can be there for her to push her to talk.

I also liked the side characters; they didn’t get many particularly deep moments, but they were all easy to distinguish and fun. Adele was my favorite with her awesome big sister vibes (also, yay for aro rep!), and I also really liked Wes—he was so kind and genuine. Nina was both awesome and intimidating, as far as mothers go; I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving side of her well-meaning meddling, but I appreciate how accepting and compassionate she was in many ways. I felt for Sloane’s attempts to get through to Charlotte. Manish often made me laugh.

Overall, the book *is* rather well-written, it just that it failed to sell me on the idea that the two MCs can in any way, shape, or form build a life together. Both because of their personalities and circumstances, but also, I think, because the weakest part of the book is the ending.

Allegedly, the MCs go through some growth and achieve some revelations that should make them more compatible, but all of it is basically summarized. Just like, incidentally, the resolutions of several side plots were super condensed, too, leaving me hungry for more pay-off.

I think that approach would have left me disappointed even if I was invested in the romance!

Hello, new fun source of mixed feelings! I liked parts of this book so much, but then there were entire chapters that made me struggle to stay focus—always an interesting combination. 

At its heart, this is the sort of enemies-to-lovers + arranged marriage story where the MC marries an alleged villain for the sake of her country and then discovers that her husband is in fact *not* the villain of the story. It’s also far more worldbuilding-heavy than an average romantasy, I feel, with a lot of politics that are handled in really cool, realistic ways. It is rare that I see the links between climate, trade, and warfare in the context of foreign relations explored so well outside of history- or politics-focused non-fiction. Alongside the evocative descriptions of jungles and snakes, this made the setting feel very real. I also generally liked the geography of this world, with the continents connected with a huge bridge and how control over this bridge is a mixed blessing for a specific country. 

Much as I’m happy to sing praises to the worldbuilding itself, however, I have problems with how it’s delivered and how it’s interwoven with the central relationship plot thread. The more world-focused bits are almost universally dense, infodump-y, and often involve stuff happening elsewhere and the characters talking/reminiscing about it later. Meanwhile, Lara and Aren’s interactions where they get to know each other and eventually catch feelings are all pretty action-y, emotional, full of banter and cool cinematic moments. Even though their relationship very much exists in the context of the world’s politics (and their marriage, in turn, directly affects the political plot/is a part of it), this duality of approaches kept creating that “am I actually reading two separate books?” feeling. It also sometimes just felt jarring—kind of like, imagine reading a contemporary romance, and you’re all invested in the relationship, and then suddenly there’s a transcript of the daily news the characters watch together to get caught up on the world’s affairs, followed by a summary of a New York Times or Reuters analytical piece about one of the ongoing conflicts around the globe. This felt like that, but fantasy.

As far as the romance is concerned, I really enjoyed the development of it. It’s a slow burn, and there’s all that extra tension around Lara concealing the fact that she’s a spy and Aren being pretty sure she’s probably a spy. The start was rocky, the subsequent developments grew on me fast, and I think they complement each other really well as people. I liked all the subtle comparing and contrasting between them, and how the secondary characters surrounding Aren all helped, with their reactions and interactions with him, show who he is as a person. His care for his desire to create a better future for his people even when he was told he’s being too idealistic really resonated with me. 

Lara, for her part, absolutely captured my heart at the beginning of the book, showing herself as badass, capable, courageous, and smart. That first scene immediately had me invested in her journey. Unfortunately, later on that perception kind of faltered, because at key points of the plot she kept stubbornly refusing to display those qualities to recognize what was actually happening. She started off openly showcasing a degree of defiance to her father and a complete willingness to accept that he’s capable of heinous things, but then as soon as she was away from him, she was constantly like, “No, he wouldn’t lie, he cares for his people, etc.” And I kind of get how this can co-exist with what she shows early on: indoctrination, trauma, etc would do that. But those scenes aren’t written as that specific brand of mental gymnastics at all, so this is my assumption of what might have been happening there, not anything the book explicitly told or showed me. Instead, Lara’s behavior felt like she suddenly lost half of her abilities and experience whenever that one specific subject came up, making the stalling for the reveal feel artificial. 

The ending in the book, in many ways, was a punch in the gut. I really liked how the final twist was handled, and the way it echoed the beginning of the book and made it so that the first choice the MC made in the book led very directly to the final problem.  I liked how it came right when things were settling down, too, making me feel like we’re in the “wrapping up the final threads” territory while wondering why there were a bit too many pages left—would the final part end up dragging? OH NO, THE OPPOSITE. With a cliffhanger like that, I’ll be definitely picking up the next book.

Second book in, this series continues to be excellent entertainment. It’s combining all of my favorite things: creepy af eldritch horrors, ongoing romance with flawed characters, a villain who does something horrible because he feels it’s the more moral choice compared to the alternative, unpleasant historical realities not being glossed over and yet not being allowed to stand in the way of hope and happiness, and giggle-inducing banter. If you love those things to, definitely pick Whyborne & Griffin up, don’t be like me and keep delaying it for no sane reason. It’s awesome so far.

Other than just being a really fun and scary supernatural adventure, I feel like this book does great as a series installment specifically. It picks up so many small threads from the first novel to develop and sets up hooks for stuff to come. I feel it’s particularly evident when it comes to character and relationship arcs. Speaking of the latter, I kind of really dislike the places the guys’ relationship went into on a personal level, but I’m really digging it on a storytelling level, kinda? I mean, the circumstances of the third act break-up in the first book clearly showed they’re in for a rocky ride, but then they transitioned into a honeymoon period and kind of swept it all under the rug. But the events of this installment, particularly the involvement of Griffin’s ex, make it impossible to keep that metaphorical rug smooth over the pile, so we’ve got Whyborne’s jealousy and Griffin’s insecurities spilling all over the pages. I think they got pretty toxic at one point tbh, and I feel oddly let down by Griffin. It’s already evident that his whole deal is that he’s spent most of his life as a lying liar who lies, but I thought that some of his personal qualities that particularly endeared Whyborne (and me) toward him, like his inherent kindness, were his actual true colors shining through whatever masks he wore. Now, I’m not so sure. I’m glad the guys were able to talk it out and recommit to each other, but I continue to not be sold on them as a longterm, endgame type couple. They have great chemistry and are entertaining together, but are they *good* for each other? I’ll see what the next books have to say.

As for the book’s flaws, there’s once again the matter of the spicy scenes being kiiiiiiinda cringey due to some word choices, but I think they’re getting better, and I like how by the end of this novel the author started actively using those scenes as tools for more in-depth character development. And then there’s also the mystery—it got *sooo* good around the final 30% of the book with all the reveals and action and high-stakes moments, but I think that some of the threads from the same mystery’s set-up got forgotten. Like, that whole odd alien stone that basically started it all—literally everyone stopped thinking about it midway through investigation. Honestly, now that I think about it closely, I have to admit Jordan L. Hawk is far better at the action-y parts of horror than at the investigative horror these books are billed as, and what the investigative parts are lacking is attention to detail. So now I’m here thinking about constructing effective mysteries and how to make every detail matter or feel like it matters, and I like these thoughts. They’re inspiring.

All in all, I’m really excited to continue with this series. I hope Christine continues to be a prominent presence and that she’ll have more of her own stuff to do rather than just accompanying the leads, because she’s amazing and deserves all the storylines. Excited to see what other curveballs Whyborne’s family has to throw, especially now that he’s utilized his newfound experience in standing up to unspeakable horrors in order to stand up to his father’s butler. Hoping that all those hints about the magic book trying to influence Whyborne’s judgment pay off at some point and create a glorious mess. And I really want to see what kind of person Griffin really ends up being once he’s done dealing with all the self-inflicted layers of deception (it’s so cool, by the way, how Whyborne’s POV makes Griffin’s arc so obvious even as Whyborne himself doesn’t seem to be fully cognizant of his boyfriend’s issues!).

This book picks up right where the first installment of the Drake Chronicles left off and finally makes good on the first book’s early promises with all the big politics coming into play. Which means it once again leaves me feeling slightly deceived, lol. Because the first book made all those promises and then turned into a cozy slice-of-life about adapting to life at a foreign court and learning new customs and falling in love etc, etc. Now I picked up the next one expecting more of the same, with maybe slightly higher  stakes, but instead there are epic journeys and dragons and battles and an ever-increading number of POVs? Like, none of that is a bad thing, and a lot of it is quite intriguing, but can this series decide what it wants to be, please!

All in all, I feel this is what we used to call romantic fantasy before those words were shortened to romantasy and started defining a specific brand of capital R romance in a magical secondary world setting. It’s a fantasy adventure with elements of a family saga, there are dragons and adventures and drama, and there are also prominent romantic storylines. Eric and Ollie’s continuing love story is the biggest among them, but there’s also Tessa’s love triangle with Eric’s nephews that is steadily getting more tangled, and the evolving tension between Revna and Bryne, and then in the “meanwhile back in Drakewell” chapters we’ve got Amelia and Malcolm, whom I’ve personally been really rooting for, but I digress. What I mean to say, this isn’t a straight-up romance following a single couple, but it’s a very romantic story still and maybe just a bit of soap opera, except in a viking-inspired fantasy land with dragons. A pretty entertaining one at that, my gripes with the slight mood whiplash notwithstanding.

I liked seeing Ollies come more into his own and let his sassy side show more and more, both with Eric and around other people. I really, really liked the exciting worldbuilding developments: between shamans and dragons and necromancy, there was never a dull moment in terms of all these discoveries. And the characters all remain really well fleshed-out. What the book is severely lacking, though, is proper editing. There are a lot of typos and awkward turns of phrase that scream “first draft,” and the narrative itself really begs to be tightened up. Because sometimes, it just goes off on tangents, or there are obvious filler/fluff scenes taking up too much space, and while there’s some great character work in those for the most part, it really messes with the pacing.

Such a wonderful winter fairytale with just the right balance of darkness and hope. It’s a Snow Queen retelling that starts off really close to the source material, though it does dig deeper into certain plot points and implications behind them, as well as generally fleshes out the characters. Then, gradually, more and more light twists are added to the narrative, turning it into its own fairytale-inspired story. Still a retelling, of course, but with its own unique flavor.

I really liked the interpretation of Gerta here, with her combination of naiveté and determination and the quiet strength she hones throughout her journey. Her relationship with Janna, the robber girl, was engrossing enough, though I think I expected just a bit more sharpness and bite from Janna. The titular animals were my absolute favorites, Mousebones the raven especially, and this version of Kai is someone I really, vindictively liked hating.

There’s a lot of northern folklore here lovingly woven around the fairy tale tropes, Finnish/Sámi for the most part, and it made the story especially enjoyable to me. I also, as usual, had great fun with Kingfisher’s dialogue and her charming wit. Every book of hers I read reminds me why she’s among my favorite authors.

Here comes yet another book that seemed so fun from the blurb yet ended up a complete miss. My book-picking game is clearly very off.

I did have some real fun with this one, at least—though not because of the things I expected to enjoy about it. Rather, despite them. Because see, when it comes to romance, I expect to be invested in the main couple, but here, these two characters just honestly baffled me. Beat especially (if someone’s blackmailing you with your family’s dirty laundry, idk, maybe getting the money from agreeing to a reality show that is almost guaranteed to dig into your family’s dirty laundry is… not the best move?). But honestly, both of them made so many weird choices and conclusions, especially about each other, and I really didn’t get how their brand of insta-love worked. They just confused me, both as individual characters and especially as a couple.

On the other hand, the whole plot with the tv show and reuniting the MCs’ moms’ band was pretty entertaining. Sometimes cheesy, sometimes slightly unhinged, but it was all good fun, and I honestly kept wishing it was at the forefront of the book more often. Both moms were hilarious, especially their banter when they ended up in a scene together, and their clashing personalities really gave those reality tv vibes. They made me laugh the way only mildly horrible yet occasionally well-meaning people can.

Still sad I didn’t get the type of romance I came from though.

Literally the only reason I persevered through this entire book was because I needed something with a ship on the cover to finish off the Readdun bingo. Otherwise, I would have absolutely DNF’ed.

Frankly, I think this book was done an enormous disservice by being marketed as an adult fantasy novel. Becaues it’s YA. Like, I don’t care how many f-bombs are dropped per chapter, it’s absolutely 100% YA. The very premise involves a bunch of characters—some of whom are literal teenagers and all of whom are acting like ones—going through a literal rite of passage, basically suspended between their adolescent lives and assuming the adult responsibilities that expect them. If there is a more quintessential young adult experience, I’ve yet to think of one. Oh, and Dee, the MC, does not actually have the special thing that makes others special, and is forced to live a lie thanks to his lying, cheating father, and he’s rebelling against it, and his very first appearance is focused on disobeying his Dad. And the book wants me to believe Dee is *checks* in his twenties. Hmm. As someone who just recently was on a contemporary YA kick, I can confidently say the only difference between him and the average fictional high school senior is that those fictional seniors are generally more mature and better capable of growth.

The worldbuilding is super simplistic, with the world divided into 12 districts… sorry, provinces who all play exactly one important part each in the empire’s structure. There used to be 13 of them, but the 13th district… sorry, province rebelled and was excluded and the empire’s now at war with it. On top of that, each province has a special animal associated with it and a unique anime-style hair color. The magic system is incredibly loose and vague and its rules keep changing based on… whatever the author thought would be cool for any given scene, probably. The worldbuilding overall is full of holes and underexplored opportunities. There’s one detail that I found interesting: the magic gift that marks the rulers in this setting literally passes from parents to children, as in, once a child gets it the parents doesn’t have it anymore and is eventually forced to abdicate in favor of the child. But the number of weird loopholes and inconsistencies about it all, as well as traditions/laws that make little sense when poked at, didn’t really let me enjoy it.

If all of the above was just a little bit better edited and marketed correctly, it could make for an entertaining YA romp, actually. One that would still have considerable flaws, though, such as an absent sense of setting. I think by combining modern world details with high fantasy, the author was going for something like Gideon the Ninth, but the result was… not it. Or there’s also the romantic plotline that simply made zero sense. Try as I might, I have no idea where those feelings came from.

Again, there absolutely is a decent YA novel hiding somewhere in the folds of this book. Dee’s sass is kind of fun, even when obnoxious. He started annoying me pretty early on, but somehow he never stopped being entertaining, so kudos for that. A lot of the other characters have great potentially, if only they got flashed out a little more. The setting has its cool elements, they just needed to be double-checked for consistency. The mystery isn’t badly constructed. But I don’t feel like there is anything here that would fit the expectations for an adult fantasy mystery, and I’m honestly just… baffled by this marketing choice.

My feelings on this book are so incredibly mixed! On one hand, I adore the idea of it: a lifetimes-spanning love story (definitely not a genre romance though) with the narrative going back and forth between historical periods. On the other hand, I kind of disliked the execution, and in many ways I’m still struggling to put a finger on the specific flaws that hindered my enjoyment. I think they exist somewhere on the intersection of structure and characterization. The way the timelines intersected within the larger narrative was often confusing and I failed to grasp the logic between the switches from one to another. The characters didn’t really feel like versions or reflections of the same souls through the ages, more like completely separate people. All the storylines felt like they lacked space—maybe each of them would’ve done better as a whole separate book. 

At the same time, there were definitely a lot of moments that really stuck with me, especially in the historical storylines (the modern one, truth be told, I could practically do without). I liked the folklore-inspired bits and all the reminiscences about fate and power. But it was also a constant back-and-forth between the pages that kept me engrossed and the ones that were tedious to get through. Such a weird effect. It’s like I’ve read two or three books awkwardly smashed together. Even the prose wasn’t consistent: it flowed so well in some parts, then turned incredibly clunky for a while. Perhaps this just wasn’t a book for me, even though it sounded like it should be from the blurb!

Well. This was really engrossing in some ways, and incredibly boring in others. In many ways, it reminded me of a TTRPG setting book more so than a novel. Just with a bigger-than-usual helping of narrative holding it together. I got a pretty thorough impression of the city of Eastborne, and a decent understanding of Aedrea as a whole, and some idea of all those places mentioned in the MC’s father’s journal/cocktail recipes collection. Everything remotely plotty that happens on the page feels precisely like story hooks for someone to turn into actual story that’s more than just an assortment of events. The characters have their rare moments, but for the most part, feel quite flat—like they’re merely vehicles for exploring the world.

That last part was really a big disappointment for me, not just because I generally prefer character-driven fiction, but also because the MC’s deal at the very beginning looked so promising. I was looking forward to watching a war veteran with magic-related chronic pain start a new life and find hope and healing, while dealing with the baggage in some way. Instead, it didn’t feel like that baggage even existed outside of occasionally bringing up the pain and the magic. Rhoren mostly just… completely discarded the old and focused on the new. He could have had any other type of backstory and nothing would change, neither about his personality nor what there was of the plot. 

The setting, on the other hand, *is* very well-described, cozy, picturesque, and livable. I wish I could visit. All the cocktail-recipes are very fun and lovingly described, too.