yourbookishbff's Reviews (650)

I loved this follow-up to Ancillary Justice and the continuation of Breq's journey. I wasn't certain what direction we would take after the fall-out at the end of Ancillary Justice, and hadn't expected a story as mysterious and contemplative as this one, but it was fitting. Breq, now the Captain of a Mercy, takes her ship and new crew to begin locking down gates and warning the other planetary leaders of the emperor's personal civil war. But Breq, being Breq, can't really leave anything alone, which has been clear from the moment she rescued half-dead Seivarden in book one. So, of course, Breq begins simultaneously investigating the unjust labor conditions of tea plantation workers and the mysterious political machinations at the "Ghost Gate." 

Where book one explored personhood through sentient AI (touching on issues of imperial violence and colonization just as the book ends), this positions us wholly within a colonized world. In this, Breq explores the violence of its overseers - "civilizers" - and the various threads of organization and revolution woven throughout the colony's history. I appreciated how plainly Breq calls out the habits of colonizers to ignore all religious and cultural nuance in favor of violent indoctrination, and how she repeatedly shows us the ways in which they have desecrated holy sites, assaulted and abused native people, and maintained language barriers for the purposes of subjugation. 

Because we were time jumping in book one, and we no longer have flashbacks to a previous storyline in book two, we now have the opportunity to really lean in to Breq's ship-connection and the various ways that the ships and their crews operate. This felt like West Wing hallway-walking as we pan between multiple scenes happening simultaneously - I loved it, and it really worked well on audio. 

And, of course, we have our continued gender-bending, as Breq maintains the practice of using only one set of gendered pronouns for all people (she/her/hers) unless engaging with cultures that recognize multiple genders. 

I highly recommend this series to those who love space opera, sentient ships, and politically sharp sci fi with excellent character development. And the audio! Adjoa Andoh's narration is excellent.

This was a beautiful and well-deserved happily-ever-after for Lydia, best friend to our female main character (Minnie) in The Duchess War. I knew going in this would be heavy (because we already knew a good bit of Lydia's backstory from the previous book), and I was grateful that this story is as much about her recognition of her own trauma as it is about her finding a partner she can love and trust. Our good doctor is plain speaking and honest and consistently respectful of Lydia - and a real grump. This is an interesting twist on grumpy x sunshine, where our sunshine character has a traumatic backstory and is only ever grumpy with the grump. I really appreciated how natural this felt for these characters.

And once again, Milan's novella pacing is so well done, and she manages to weave in meaningful backstory for our male main character and his own family as well. Readers should note the content warnings, as this is a heavy read, but it's affirming and redemptive, too (and who does healing sex scenes better than Courtney Milan? perhaps no one).

I enjoyed this, and plan to reread it at some point in print, as I think I would have enjoyed it even more in a different format (I read via audio). This is a dark fairytale blend of Mayan mythology and Jazz age flamboyance with a (kind of surprising?) romantic sub-plot and a lot of Cinderella-esque family drama. I appreciated the clear discussion of the racial caste system these characters are operating within and against, and the examination of anti-Indigenous racism. I most enjoyed this story in the third act, when it gets truly dark (not sure what that says about me, but I loved the drama and all of our new mythical creatures!). 

Honestly my only struggle in this was the narration - I couldn't always distinguish character voices (and there were a few times it felt like one character voice carried over into another's dialogue? I had to replay scenes several times) and Casiopea felt so young to me because of how she's narrated that I was genuinely caught off guard by the romantic throughline. Again, I think in another format this would have been an even more enjoyable read, and I'm excited to read more by Sylvia Moreno-Garcia (this was my first!). 

This, like Once Upon a Marquess (book one in the Worth Saga) was flawlessly executed romance for me. Each main character had deep and nuanced arcs that intertwined in believably mirrored ways, and each had to make complicated decisions about the balance between trust and love, and the divergence of loyalty and justice. This is a powerful exploration of chosen family, and, again, Milan deftly navigates traumatic backstories and difficult on-page encounters. 

This was also paced perfectly for me, with a third act that felt both tense and inevitable with the foundation built, and I loved where it led each of our characters. 

I'm also genuinely in awe of how well-rounded Milan's side characters are - I loved Lydia and Oliver in this, and even Robert's mother's development was so compelling. 

A+ narration by Rosalyn Landor, highly recommend the audio! 

This is my fifth Milan in 2024 and they are 5/5 for making me cry - you've been warned.

This was a perfect prequel novella, balancing a central storyline and romance arc that is meaningful as a stand-alone, while effortlessly bridging into our namesake brothers and the series to come. As a new reader to the series, I loved the conclusion and the hints of our future characters. I'm also so heartened by how deftly Milan handled heavy and traumatic topics and gave two undervalued characters the happily ever after they each deserved. Milan expertly creates tight novellas with believable story arcs, and this was another 5-star Milan novella for me.

Easily my favorite of the Beverly Jenkins' romances I've read! This is the sweetest pirate kidnapping of all time, a tender and affirming romance, and a dramatic high-stakes family rescue that makes for a stressy (and violent, see CWs) third act. It's also a unique time period for pirate stories in historical romance - set ahead of the American Revolutionary War - and showcased, as usual, Jenkins' historical research and insight into undertold stories in major American historical moments.

I've struggled previously with Jenkins' tendency to lean more tell vs. show and to write main characters who generally make the right decisions and say the right things and show up as fully formed already once on page (what can I say, I like when we start messy). That said, Jenkins writes celebratory romances for characters who were wholly ignored in historical romance before her, and I do think there's something to be said for creating characters whose conflict lies outside them. With racism, slavery, oppression and a violent state consistently challenging the existence of Black folks during these time periods, Jenkins' decision to create external conflicts for her characters makes a lot of sense. In Captured, while the primary conflicts are external (our female main character's enslavement and forced separation from her children being the central, driving force), I felt both main characters had to grapple with what they were willing to risk for freedom and revenge, what they wanted of their lives and their families, and how to move forward in spite of fear and grief. 

If you love sweet and swoony and heroic pirate stories with capital-V-Villains who get their comeuppance, Captured is a fun read that had me cheering through the final chapters. 

Ahed Tamimi's memoir is a must-read for anyone committed to learning more about those advocating for Palestinian freedom. They Called Me a Lioness recounts the traumatic experiences of her childhood growing up under Israeli military occupation and witnessing the abuse, torture and murder of various family members as a young kid and then teen. As Ahed begins participating in protest marches and demonstrations organized by her parents, she becomes a visible figure in the Palestinian resistance movement for her continued presence and activism. She ultimately serves more than eight months in Israeli prison at 16 and 17 years old on charges of *assaulting an Israeli soldier (*slapping an armed soldier who had - the same day - shot her cousin in the face).  

The portions of her memoir that recount her time in prison, detailing the day-to-day life of women and children in Israeli prison for various political crimes (including many who are under "administrative detention" with no charges), are compelling reminders that Ahed is a child in prison. She's a teenager attempting to finish high school, reading romance novels to her cellmates as they make up their faces with the colored pencils provided to them by The Red Cross, laughing over toothpaste pranks and silly seances. She's a child, so feared by the Israeli government that they interrogate her multiple times and imprison her family members in attempts to compel her cooperation.

Ahed's memoir ends in hopeful advocacy and reflections on the globalization of the Palestinian cause. It's this hope and belief in a future free of apartheid that is most devastating for today's reader witnessing the atrocities in Gaza. As a pacifist Quaker, I believe Ahed's reflections on resistance are vital to all of those who stand against apartheid and state violence, and for all of those who ask themselves, as Ahed does, how we can resist violent systems of oppression.

I highly recommend the audiobook, narrated by co-author Dena Takruri.

I'm glad I read this, and love bell hooks' reflective and earnest writing style in these essays. A few essays stand out for me (in particular, Honesty: Be True to Love, is one I'm still thinking about). I would note that this was originally published in the early 00s, and modern readers (like me!) may struggle with how hooks engages with gender essentialism (challenging it but ultimately still writing within its assumptions and constructs, which tracks for the early aughts) and Christianity and spiritualism. There are broad assumptions made about men and women in M/F relationships, in particular (and some odd commentary on and apologism for Bill Clinton that doesn't sit particularly well today), but I suspect that this is a generational difference, as the audience she was writing for had a different set of cultural touchpoints and childhood experiences in the 70s, 80s, and 90s. I think there is a lot of value in these reflections for readers who recognize the different challenges early feminists faced and the constructs they were still largely fighting against. And ultimately, hooks' thoughts are a gift for us as we look back and forward, and I appreciate her thoughts on community care and living by a love ethic, that have so much relevance for us today.

Notes on the audio specifically: I really struggled with the audiobook, honestly. I loved the narration by January LaVoy, but the book itself is incredibly difficult to navigate. None of the chapter titles included in the print book are included in the audiobook's visible chapter titles, and the audiobook numbers the preface, introduction, etc., meaning that the chapter numbering in the audiobook never aligns with the individual essays. I constantly felt confused about where I was, and I feel frustrated that this was sloppily done. 

If I were to rate this entirely on pirate vibes, it would be a knock-out. Brooding, emotionally scarred pirate falls for the daughter of a merchant sailor (who also happens to be an incredible navigator, renowned mapmaper, and knife-strapped hellion). We have multiple bloody and detailed ship battles, stories of revenge and honor, quirky side characters and even a teeth-achingly-sweet-and-simple secondary love story. We have SEX IN THE RIGGING. I repeat, SEX IN THE RIGGING. This is hot and adventurous and the narration by Roger Clark had exactly the bravado I wanted from the story. 

That said, this was published in 1996 and there won't be a point in the story where you don't feel it. For those who don't typically read older historical romances, this is not an entry point - the male main character threatens murder and rape (empty threats as we discover, but threats all the same) multiple times, at one point he attempts to choke her following a dispute (thinking she's a man), and she is described as fighting off his initial kiss. I wasn't surprised by any of this, knowing exactly what I was picking up with a 90s pirate romance, but I note it because it's not for every reader. My most significant concern, actually, is the racist depiction of a Black side character - the caricature is awful, full stop.

If you pick this up, heed the content warnings, and go into it for the pirate vibes and extremely detailed sailing adventures. 

The moment we transitioned into the present day storyline I lost interest. I may return at some point? But have a lot of other current reads in excited about, so softly DNFing for now.