I have no idea why I waited so long to start this series. Obviously the wrong choice, because I love it! This first book isn’t without flaws, but it hits so many of my preferences in such good ways. I knew going in there would be lovecraftian horror elements here, but I didn’t realize it’s full-on lovecrafian fiction, down to the MC being a Miskatonic University alumni. Lovecraft made queer happens to be my favorite brand of horror in the world (I’m kinda an eldritch thing at heart), so that alone was enough to make me squee in excitement early on, and the way all the horrors were handled? 10/10! The vibe and the ratio of horrors to investigations to interpersonal hijinks reminded me of some of my favorite Call of Cthulhu campaigns I was in. Just. Exactly the absolute correct balance, 100% what it should be, can’t properly put into words the absolute rightness of it.

Whyborne, the MC/narrator, took his time to grow on me. At first, I was low-key annoyed by what a blushing virgin he was, and I don’t even mean his behavior in regards to his budding relationship with Griffin, just his whole wallflower mindset. It really seemed way over the top. But as the story progressed, I began to think that I would’ve been far less annoyed by him—maybe the opposite of annoyed, even—if I was seeing him through someone else’s eyes, not his own. He’s not *actually* the epitome of awkwardness, he just strongly perceives himself as such! He’s an unreliable narrator when it comes to himself. Once that clicked, I actually started appreciating him a whole damn lot. He may feel like he’s constantly making a fool of himself and annoying people, but when you just look at his actions, he’s in fact pretty badass. I loved all the multiple uses he found for the single fire spell, the way he kept coming close to falling under the implied influence of the eldritch spellbook and noping out every time, and everything he did around the culmination of the plot. 

Griffin, on the other hand, stole my heart practically from his first appearance. There was just something so endearing about him and his kindness from the get-go, I totally understand why Whyborne fell for him so fast. There was a hot minute when I thought that maybe he was getting a bit too perfect, but then he started revealing hidden depth, ranging from eldritch-related trauma to some excellent acting/lying skills, and my interest was renewed again. I just kept looking at all these puzzle pieces, all the things he clearly wasn’t telling Whyborne without Whyborne realizing it, and thinking about all the potential ways they could be used in the third act to create the perfectly painful misunderstanding that would make way too much sense. (That is, in fact, exactly what happened. I loved every bit of that specific misunderstanding and everything that followed.)

I’m still unsure if I’m buying that I’m buying these two characters as an OTP, though. I’m definitely seeing the chemistry, and the grounds for bonding over bad past experiences, and they kick ass together against eldritch horrors and creepy cultists with a reasonable amount of synergy. But what I’m seeing in this book, at least on Whyborne’s part, feels kinda more like sexually charged puppy love with a potential of simmering down into great friendship rather than the beginnings of a strong romantic feeling. But hey, the series has like 10 more books to convince me of this partnership, and I’m definitely reading on for the love of the eldritch, so I’ll give these two a chance!

As for other characters, Christine is my absolute favorite. She’s awesome on every level. I would read a whole prequel series about her becoming this badass archeologist despite whateveer nonsense the men around her had to say about this. I hope she remains a fixture in all the subsequent books, and I hope she never changes because I’m in love with her no-nonsense attitude, her dry wit, her subdued compassion, her courage—*everything* about her. In a far less positive sense, I am fascinated by the Whyborne family and eager to read more about them. I expect some delightful messes and maybe a mild improvement in like 5 books or so, at this rate. Also, all the cultists who actually got names, personalities, and goals were really engaging to read about (and yes, I understand why they couldn’t all be important named characters, but I still remain curious about the rest).

When it comes to flaws, I guess I can complain about the spicy scenes being kind of cringey and some minor continuity details being off here and there. All in all, there’s this sense of the author and the story still finding their footing, with the narrative literally becoming stronger with each next chapter. I’m really excited for all that comes next.

 Sadly, I'm just not feeling this one. It's been almost 1/4 of the book, and I still don't have the feel for the characters. Or the world. Or the plot. There are a lot of cool ideas here for sure. I loved the premise; it definitely tries to do the same flavor of cozy fantasy I enjoyed in Sarah Beth Durst's The Spellshop, the one where the coziness happens on the edge of darker, sadder events and there's a strong focus on healing. But I don't think it's succeeding. There's already been multiple moments when I wanted to dig deeper into the characters or the world around them, but all the interesting stuff is underexplored or mentioned once and ignored. 

I’ve always enjoyed mystery subplots in KJ Charles’s romance novels, so I was pretty excited to read her first foray into mystery genre—and I wasn’t disappointed one bit. This novel has everything I’ve always loved about this author’s books: complex, fully realized characters, an engaging plot, and a strong sense of well-researched historical setting. There’s still a bit of queer romance here, too, though it’s just a side plot this time, with a messy, tangled web of other types of relationships taking center stage. All those human connections absolutely made the book for me and made me feel super invested in figuring out the identity of the killer (it was exactly who I’d suspected the most, but I still gasped at the reveal).

The premise is this: a member of a notable student clique in Oxford was mysteriously murdered about a decade ago, and to this day Jem, the protagonist, is haunted by the murder. When a letter accusing him of this crime shows up at his workplace and costs him his job, he feels the need to search for the real killer, no matter what sorts of secrets and baggage he dredges up in the process. His circle of suspects is pretty narrow and consists only of all the other members of what used to be a close-knit friends group.

As he reconnects with those former friends of his and lets them know of his intentions, the story turns almost dual-timeline with copious flashbacks highlighting the good, bad, and ugly times back at Oxford. I expected to enjoy those flashbacks the most, because I’m a sucker for the dark academia vibe, but in truth I mostly remained caught up in the present-day plot and appreciated those trips into the past simply for the context they added. Jem was such a compelling protagonist to follow, with a mixture of determination and doubts in his head that felt oddly relatable. And then there were all the others—Nicky, Prue, Aaron, Ella, Hugo. I can’t even settle on a favorite character, I love them all and would happily read a book with each of them as the MC.

As I’ve come to expect from this author’s works, there’s a fair amount of attention drown to the prominent social issues of the time period—some of which bear a striking resemblance to the issues we still have to contend with today, over a century later. ~~Sometimes I despair of human race~~. This is something I for the most part greatly appreciated, though I admit the handling of the subplot focused on reproductive rights was a bit heavy-handed. I fully agree with the sentiments shared by the characters and I think this is a super important topic to discuss today, in fiction and otherwise. But every time it came up, I felt like the characters were lecturing/ranting at me, the reader, on the issue rather than organically discussing it among themselves. And hey, I 100% nodded along with the rants! But those were the only times when I also felt taken out of the story.

This book is basically the epitome of the hurt/comfort trope, and it’s done really well at that. The hurt and the comfort aspects are fairly balanced and tightly interwoven, so I would recommend paying close attention to the trigger warnings. This is very much a story of an abuse survivor confronting the demons of his past before taking a step into the future, and nothing about his experience is downplayed. Which, in fact, was my favorite part of the book, even if so many scenes genuinely hurt to read. In a kinda cathartic way, though, because of how isncerely and respectfully the painful things were depicted.

In general, the book takes the common tropes of the omegaverse genre that are most commonly used for titillation and quite thoroughly interrogates the psychological and social implications between them. There are lots of parallels to draw with the real world here, especially in terms of the way law systems treat society’s most vulnerable members, often perpetuating cycles of abuse. And at the same time, the overall tone somehow remains so focused on hope and healing. I loved the dynamic between Braden and Coll from start to finish, and I loved them both as characters. I also adored all the descriptions of the Australian wildlife that served as the backdrop, and how both characters interacted with it: Braden through his photography, Coll through his sheer love for the woods and his job as a forest guardian.

One thing that I can maybe complain about is that the structure was a bit… idk, sloppy? Like, the way certain plot beats were placed felt distinctly off. I attribute it to the fact that the author is more used to writing forever serials where different structural conventions come into play compared to the shorter, self-contained novel format. This didn’t spoil the enjoyment of the story for me at all, though!

For such a short novel, there’s a stunning amount of fascinating worldbuilding here. So many details that kept me engrossed throughout: magical artifacts, the gods’ involvement, nature turning against people, the politics, the backstory behind it all. Every aspect of this world is super intriguing even in itself, and together they form a whole that’s just chef’s kiss. I’d absolutely love to read more stories set in this world. I’d love to play in a TTRPG campaign set there. I just want more of it!

The story itself, however, felt a bit rushed, or rather, just oddly paced. The beginning unfolded slowly, at least in terms of the book’s overall length, and then things started moving faster and faster, especially where the romance was concerned. There were multiple instances when it felt like the characters jumped to conclusions instead of actually thinking, or their feelings changed in the blink of an eye without much build-up. As a result, it was difficult for me to connect with their budding relationship, even though this blend of enemies to lovers and arranged marriage is a mixture after my own heart. 

I really liked Skye, the protagonist, and the ethical dilemmas he was facing throughout the story. At the beginning, he is presented as a genuinely good man asked to do a bad thing for good reasons, but those reasons get more and more muddled as he leaves his home and learns more about the world around him. It was so interesting to follow him being affected by all the secrets, lies, and half-truths coming to life, although there were points where I wished some of these things were inspected deeper—there were parts that definitely felt rushed. Perhaps the story needed a bit more room to breathe so that the gorgeous worldbuilding and the plot could be better balanced. Overall, though, it was really enjoyable—and did I mention I want more from this setting? Because I so do.

I was really looking forward to this book because it sounded like it might have one of my favorite characte dynamics. Enemies/rivals to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, wet cat/golden retriever—what's not to love? And yes, the book does indeed keep this promise, but something about the execution fell a bit flat to me. I liked both leads, their relationship developed as I would expect in terms of the above-mentioned tropes, but I just failed to see much chemistry. That's the problem with "opposites attract" stories: there's that line where "they're so different, they can compliment each other really well" can turn into "they're so different, they're better off apart," and where it lies depends as much on the reader as on the book itself. Unfortunately, in this case for me the characters ended up too different in some of the core aspects of their personalities for me to ship them.

I did, however, very much like them as separate characters. Both Henry and Theo are really well-developed and come alive on the page. I loved the supporting characters around them, too, and all the webs of relationships that have shaped them: their relationships with their families, coaches, to an extent their respective federations and fans. I emapthized with Henry's anxiety and cheered on Theo's commitment to establishing borders with his mother. Really, I like them both so much! I just could take or leave them together.

The best thing about the book for me is how well-research it is. Must be written by a fellow figure skating fan, yay! I wish people making skating movies and tv shows took half of the effort to make sure all the technicalities about the various moves, training process, competitions etc rang true. The only problem was with the Grand Prix assignments, as for both guys to share the same event one of them had to have finished last year's Worlds outside of the podium, which... doesn't seem like a thing that has happened? But I guess I can handwave just this one thing.

I listened to this one as an audiobook, and honestly, its only downside as a bedtime story was that the banter constantly made me giggle. It is, apparently, hard to fall asleep while giggling. Who knew? Seriously, I'm now putting Emily Henry right up there with Talia Hibbert as one of my favorite banter-oriented romance writers. The witty dialogue is my favorite part of the book.

In terms of... let's call it emotional temperature I feel like the fun, heart-warming aspects of the book were well-balanced with the heavier, more dramatic ones: January's grief and complex emotions about her father, Gus's abandonment issues, all those research conversations with former cult members. In terms of plot structure, however, I think there were parts where the narrative meandered as it tried to encompass all the arcs and small plotlines. All the big stuff got properly developed and wrapped up, but there were definitely parts of the story that left me with a nagging "okay, but I still have questions about X / couldn't Y have been explored slightly more?" feeling.

Tbh I feel this story could have benefitted from being dual POV. Perhaps some parts of it could have been better delivered through Gus's part, and besides, I really wish I could get to know Gus better. I wanted to actually *see* his arc, his emotional struggles, the way he was caught between the pain of his divorce and the joy of falling for January. As it was, I didn't really got a feel for his personality, only for his charisma and for the way January perceived him—but what if she was wrong about things? I don't know, there's this weird aftertaste of mistrust, lol. Also, I would have liked to see more of his writing process. Show me this man trying to pen a romcom, don't just tell me he's doing it!

With January on the other hand, I definitely feel like I've got to know her plenty and I enjoyed her arc a lot, especially all the parts that had to do with her parents and how their relationship shaped her. I liked the balance she found between focusing on the good in the world and acknowledging that some things aren't as clear-cut and simple as she's been trying to believe.

All in all, this is an excellent, witty, sometimes cheesy love story with Hallmark vibes. Any flaws it has, for me, are easily compensated by the amount of joy it contains.

This was definitely one of the weirder books I've read lately! I feel like it's the kind of novel that is more about shape and vibes than story, and it's rather interesting at that. The prose was simply enchanting; it pulled me in even when little was happening. I was fascinated by the use of first person plural POV—it's always "we," the field hockey team being the real main character. There are definitely downsides to this, such as never getting to delve deep enough into each specific girl's mind to really get to know her, but at the same time, it definitely made managing all the numerous characters easier and created a cool effect that was both intimate and cinematic. 

The premise itself is super cool: a field hockey team of high school girls in the 1980s resorts to witchcraft to start winning games. Or do they? All the witchy parts are deliberately ambiguous and surreal. Maybe there's really magic happening here, or maybe it's just a thing the girls choose to believe—because they're growing up so close to Salem, because it gives them the excuse to do shit they find liberating, because why the hell not. It's not really about witchcraft, anyway, it's about girlhood. It just so happens that the two have a lot in common.

I've made a bunch of notes about the book's structure and highlighted plenty of quotes, and I'm pretty sure I'l lb e thinking about this one for some days or weeks to come. The vibes really stuck with me. My one complaint is, I wish there was a little more in the way of actual plot.

From the blurb, the cover, and a couple of reviews, I except a cross between Pretty Little Liars and Abigail Haas's YA thrillers, served with dark academia vibes. Unfortunately, I'll have to look for something else to satisfy those cravings. 

My main problem with the book is that there's so much build up to the stuff that's supposed to be the meat of the story and all of it takes so long that by the time we get there, it's nearly impossible not to lose interest already. Especially since there's not a single compelling character in sight to latch onto: everyone is bland, boring, and stereotypical. And then when the build-up supposedly pays off, things get even worse, because those reveals highly count as anything paying off. The mystery is transparent to the point of embarrassment. The killer may have as well just introduced themself in the first chapter or something. And the whole deal around the insular clique/secret society in the middle of the private school is just... eh. There's all that tension in the beginning with the MC not wanting her brother to join because then he'd know about the awful things her group's done and the dramatic suspense around the tests newbies have to go through. And then when it's finally explained, it's a bunch of embarrassing stuff drunk teenagers come up with at parties when one of them chooses dare. Humiliating and stupid for sure, but damn, not what you expect to read about when the build up to it hints at unspeakable crimes!

Speaking of Jill's relationship with her brother, I guess this was the one thing that kept me reading. I wasn't a fan of either of the characters, but there was some real feeling there, now and then—a welcome change from the flatness of everything around it.

I've been on a messy YA drama books kick lately, and this is a great addition to the list. I was drawn in by the "friends to enemies to lovers" trope that I adore wholeheartedly, and while it wasn't exactly what I've imagined, I enjoyed the rendition. There's such a complex tangle of emotions between the characters and such a layered history to their relationship despite their young age, it was a delight to dig into. Both of them also felt very realistic, with pretty much exactly the amount of poop jokes and bottling up feelings you'd expect from a couple of teenage boys. And I also really enjoyed the side plot with Ridley, the MC's best friend: she clearly meant well in some aspects, despite her approach very much lacking nuance, and was incredibly shitty and controlling in others, and the way Holc treated her also fluctuated between "pretty bad" and "very reasonable," and it was so easy to lean into the toxic mess of it all, but they somehow got to a place that gave me hope their friendship might eventually persevere.

I enjoyed the discussion of the limitations fame places on a person, and generally the show biz-related parts. The name-dropping and pop-culture references that grounded the story in the specific period were fun. That kind of stuff really dates the story, but I feel like this book kind of benefits from focusing on, "this is how certain things were in the early 2020s specifically" in terms of things like the biz's and especially the public's perception of queer artists in particular. Also, it was just fun somehow to see some of the artists and songs from my own playlists namedropped on the page.

One of my favorite storylines included Holc's relationship with his father: how rocky it was in certain places, but how solid the foundation of it was underneath. The scenes Holc had with his dad's employees were also pretty awesome, between all the fun construction/carpentry details and the bonds he had with these people. I'm just sad that the number of these interactions dwindled down and lost depth as the book progressed in a way that felt low-key artificial: like the author really wanted Holc to come to some revelations on his own, so suddenly he was apart from all the adult influences in his life who could have been there for him. Also, that resulted in the "college vs apprenticeship" subplot being just. Completely dropped. Why.

Oh, and another thing I want to complain about is how Holc's "it's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me" epiphany came too late in the story. I wanted to see some pay off from those revelations, the process of him mending what he's broken and not just the fact of it. I really, really want to know what exactly happened between the final chapter and the epilogue. Actually, it's not even just about Holc and his relationship with Chance, I want to know what drove Chance to make that one certain decision at the end. Kind of almost feels like the story ended too early and is missing a few chapters before the epilogue.

All in all, the fun I had reading definitely outweighs my complaints, but the book does have significant structural issues in the latter half.