List: Most Anticipated Books of 2025 - July to December

 

Here are my most anticipated books for the second half of the year, in order of publication.

"Human Rites", by Juno Dawson (pub July 1, 2025)

"Volatile Memory", by Seth Haddon  (pub July 22, 2025)

"House of Dusk", by Deva Fagan  (pub August 26, 2025)

"Lady Dragon", by A.M. Strickland  (pub August 26, 2025) 

"To Clutch a Razor", by Veronica Roth (pub September 16, 2025)

"Fate's Bane", by C.L. Clark (pub September 30, 2025) 

"The Sovereign", by C.L. Clark (pub September 30, 2025)

"The Isle in the Silver Sea", by Tasha Suri (pub October 21, 2025)

"When They Burned the Butterfly", by Wen-yi Lee (pub October 21, 2025)

"The Wolf and his King", by Finn Longman (pub November 27, 2025) 

 

 

 

ARC Review: The Witch Who Chases the Sun, by Dawn Chen

A decade after the war that resulted in the death of someone important to them both, the Aixauhan Alchemist Cai-Li Ying seeks out to rekindle their relationship with her estranged lover, the Inabrian Oracle, Anne Barberry. However, a lot has changed in the past decade. Anne barricades herself in the Castle on a hill where her family‘s dark secrets lie. Chely has gained the reputation of being the Blood Hawk, who dabbles in dark magic, much to Anne’s disgust. Rumors has it that Anne herself is responsible for the disappearance of visitors who went to the Castle.
Other things are happening as the two witches reunite. Old ghosts come back to haunt them. People they know from the war come and go. Scars left by the war does not easily fade. Are they truly each other's salvation, or are they doomed to repeat the past that tore them apart?

Thank you to the author for providing the e-arc. This book is set to be published on October 1st, 2025.

Dawn Chen's The Witch Who Chases the Sun (a link will be added when available) is a poignant reflection on the horrors of war and the grief of loss, drawing from Chinese myth to build a beautiful anti-colonial epic. It takes a while for the reader to get used to the mixture of past and present tense that defies expectation, undoubtedly an interesting choice to narrate the book; once one gets in the swing of things, though, the peculiar narration is not so strange. Another compelling aspect of the language used is the choice to employ chinese ideograms and sayings, without worrying about holding the reader's hand. This helps convey the racism and imperialism as we see how much the Aixauhan characters are forced to conform.

Cai-Li and Anne are complex and compelling, their relationship both sweet and intense as we get to see various stages of their lives. They're flawed characters, heroes and avengers, killers and saviors, with complex agendas that are not so easily anticipated. In fact, the twists and turns of this book are delightful and gasp-worthy. Their relationship mirrors in a way the cycle of violence brought on by war, but you never get the sense that there is no love, even when things appear grim. While this isn't a romantasy, readers might approach it with the expectation of a traditional HEA, and I will warn that while the ending is beautiful and hopeful and just perfect, perfectly encapsulating the world of the story, it very much is not HEA.

The cast is enriched by three other characters, two of which I'm hesitant to call merely side characters. Cole and Ark are just as well-rounded as the main two, driven by their own past, complex and terrible and so easy to empathize with. Their arcs intertwine and juxtapose with each other's and with the main characters, creating beautiful layers and intricate webs of honor, understanding, sacrifice, and forgiveness.

The worldbuilding is vivid, deftly painting the conflict between two nations inspired by England and China. The Chinese equivalent especially is expertly woven, showing the complexity of different etnic groups within the community.

The Witch Who Chases the Sun is a compelling tragedy.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Lure of Their Graves, by Laura R. Samotin

Dimitri Abramovich may have won back the throne of Novo-Svitsevo, but even after defeating his former husband, the usurper Alexey Balakin, he seems no closer to securing lasting peace for his people. Enemies are closing in on all sides, and pressure is mounting for Dimitri to play the one card he has left in a bid for stability—offering his hand in marriage for a second time.
But Dimitri is still healing from the tragedies of the war, his return to the throne, and Alexey's years of torment. Vasily Sokolov is the only person with whom he feels safe, and giving up the comfort of their budding relationship feels unfathomable, even if it's the only way to sever the alliances being formed among the countries surrounding Novo-Svitsevo. So as Dimitri and Vasily reckon with political treachery, the lasting consequences of Dimitri's resurrection, and the sinister legacy of Alexey’s use of the Holy Science, they must also work to understand what it means to love each other even as they prepare to let each other go—which might prove the most difficult of all.

"Nothing of me is left in you. You have no claim to me."

Laura R. Samotin's The Lure of Their Graves is the epic conclusion to a poignant duology about surviving abuse (HERE you can find my review of the first installment in the series). After the first book's gut-wrenching finale, here is a tale about healing, something that takes a lot of time and a lot of false starts, especially when one is also faced with threats against the kingdom. This book is especially angsty, a feat after the already bleak first installment, and many chapters are tinged with despair, especially when it comes to the political marriage aspect.

Dimitri lives for his kingdom, and the agony of having to choose a spouse for the good of his kingdom, instead of following his heart and choosing Vasily, almost tears him apart. This is amplified by the fact that he can't envision a sexual relationship for its sake and the sake of the kingdom: he's described as asexual, possibly demisexual, and the marital bed would be a violation almost worse than what he survived during his first marriage. Vasily's chapters are just as painful, because he sees the choice in fronts of Dimitri and knows that he has to do what's best, but it kills him. Their encounters are mired with so much pain, and so much love, that one has to pace the reading or else be overwhelmed with emotion. And yet, it's such a hopeful book, and gentle, and kind. It's also very explicit in its descriptions of the sex scenes between Dimitri and Vasily.

The supporting cast is a delight, expanding on the core characters of the first book, Dimitri's found family, and adding Dimitri's suitors from other realms, and others. The suitors are vibrant characters, very different from each other, each of them with their own goals and needs, and we can't hate them, even though their mere presence is agony. On the other hand, we're once again subjected to Alexei's hateful POV, and he's just as skeevy and completely oblivious to the damage he caused as in the first book. His threat is one that has to be confronted too, but there will be help from an unlikely source, bringing to a close and to a satisfying ending another heartbreaking subplot from the first book.

The world-building, inspired by Jewish and Eastern European folklore, continues to be fascinating. It's not expanded upon, but what we already knew is enough to frame the story without weighing too much on the mental journey of the characters.

The Lure of Their Graves is a powerful conclusion.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: The Bloodless Princes, by Charlotte Bond

Cursed by the previous practitioner in her new role, and following an incident with a supremely powerful dragon, High Mage Saralene visits the afterlife with a boon to beg of the Bloodless Princes who run the underworld. But Saralene and her most trusted advisor/champion/companion, Sir Maddileh, will soon discover that there's only so much research to be done by studying the old tales, though perhaps there's enough truth in them to make a start. Saralene will need more than just her wits to leave the underworld, alive. And Maddileh will need more than just her Fireborne Blade.

“Justice is like iron.”

Charlotte Bond's The Bloodless Princes is a novella concluding the duology that began with The Fireborne Blade (HERE you can read my review). Set three years after the events recounted there, it employs the same format of narration, with the story proper being interrupted by chapters about the history and lore of the world. The plot is pretty simple, as Maddileh and Saralene need to contend with the consequences of what they did at the end of the first book, and this leads to a voyage to the Underworld with a taste of the myth of Orpheus; at the same time, they must face their feelings for each other, which have only grown during the time between the two books. This makes for a sweet story where the stakes are pretty low, all things considered. The cat on the cover does absolutely have a part to play, and in fact it was a definite highlight of the book, a great character.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: The Hymn to Dionysus, by Natasha Pulley

Raised in a Greek legion, Phaidros has been taught to fight for the homeland he’s never seen and to follow his commander’s orders at all costs. But when he rescues a baby from a fire at Thebes’s palace, his commander’s orders cease to make sense: Phaidros is forced to abandon the blue-eyed boy at a temple, and to keep the baby’s existence a secret. Years later, after a strange encounter that led to the death of his battalion, Phaidros has become a training master for young soldiers. He struggles with panic attacks and flashbacks, and he is not the only one: all around him, his fellow veterans are losing their minds.
Phaidros’s risk of madness is not his only problem: his life has become entangled with Thebes’s young crown prince, who wishes to escape the marriage his mother, the Queen, has chosen for him. When the prince vanishes, Phaidros is drawn into the search for him—a search that leads him to a blue-eyed witch named Dionysus, whose guidance is as wise as the events that surround him are strange. In Dionysus’s company, Phaidros witnesses sudden outbursts of riots and unrest, and everywhere Dionysus goes, rumors follow about a new god, one sired by Zeus but lost in a fire.

"We don’t last long, but our stories do."

Natasha Pulley's The Hymn to Dionysus is, in perfect Pulley fashion, a pointed novel about grief, memory, and identity, a reflection on PTSD and love, and a labirintine narration that draws you in, confuses you, enchants you, and leaves you begging for more. Pulley's distinctive voice is a soothing caress, mesmerising and hypnothising, as she tackles Greek Mythology with a deft hand and creates a new story that feels like the myth. Her Dionysus is a feral and uncanny creature, an ancient and curious god, kind and terrible.

The sole narrator, Phaidros, finds himself earning Dionysus' attention from a very young age. A vicious soldier and a polyglot, widowed of his guardian and commander, he is suicidal and compelled by duty and honor. He's the quintessential Pulley protagonist, and yes, she definitely has a niche, but what she does with her niche works everytime, like beautiful clockwork. This book has an intricate plot, with twists and turns that weren't predictable even by knowing the actual myths, and it meanders gently, pulling you by your hand, slowly unraveling madness and knowledge and freedom.

The relationship between Phaidros and the strange witch he suspects from the start of being a god develops beautifully, with moments of terrible tenderness and others that are heartbreaking. Phaidros' internal monologue paints him as a desperate, grieving man who can't find in himself to believe he's worthy of anything anymore, dealing with staggering loss and with the sudden duties he takes on because he has to. Slowly he'll learn to find value in himself, all while battling with a draught that threatens to kill all and with a supernatural madness taking on soldiers, as well as with a dynastic crisis.

The author did her research into history and myth, and it shows with her usage of greek words and historical references and with her deft threading of her own special Pulley-ness into the mythological tapestry. Her usage of language and etymology is as always superb, as is her particular kind of magical realism. This book has mask magic and bronze marvels that might or might not be inhabited by gods, and her inclusion of the blind prophet Thiresias in a new and fresh way is handled with grace. The major female character is handled with the usual depth and narrative cruelty. It should feel trite, but despite this, her women are always vibrant and never dulled down, and that is the saving grace.

The Hymn to Dionysus is a marvelous piece of art.

✨ 5 stars

Review: Someone You Can Build a Nest In, by John Wiswell

Shesheshen is a shapeshifter, who happily resides as an amorphous lump at the bottom of a ruined manor. When her rest is interrupted by hunters intent on murdering her, she constructs a body from the remains of past meals: a metal chain for a backbone, borrowed bones for limbs, and a bear trap as an extra mouth.
However, the hunters chase Shesheshen out of her home and off a cliff. Badly hurt, she’s found and nursed back to health by Homily, a warm-hearted human, who has mistaken Shesheshen as a fellow human. Homily is kind and nurturing and would make an excellent co-parent: an ideal place to lay Shesheshen’s eggs so their young could devour Homily from the inside out. But as they grow close, she realizes humans don’t think about love that way.

"Hatred was the fear people let themselves enjoy."

John Wiswell's Someone You Can Build a Nest In is a cozy horror story about love, loving yourself, and overcoming abuse, from the perspective of the monster, a blob who can rearrange her insides and her outsides to her liking. Her voice is so clear, and funny, with her matter-of-fact observations about humans and what little she understands of them, but she's also a deep character, with what seems to be a moral compass and a clear understanding of what is right and wrong in the human world.

The narration swings wildly between mild gore and sweet musings, in a mix that makes for an incredibly interesting read. We follow Sheshesen's terrible first day after hibernation, and we see her stumble right into some horrifying human drama while rapidly falling in love with a woman who saved her, not knowing what she is. This book has some pointed things to say about what trauma does to a person, and what it means to fall in love with traits that are trauma responses, and how to be there for someone who grew up in an abusive household.

I didn't see the twist coming, but keener readers might have no problem identifying it. I do think that it takes away some of the strength of the story, because it's a neat explanation and doesn't allow for true accountability, but the strong ending makes up for it. I also might have missed the logistics of some things.

Someone You Can Build a Nest In is a wild tale from start to finish.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Tomb of Dragons, by Katherine Addison

Thara Celehar has lost his ability to speak with the dead. When that title of Witness for the Dead is gone, what defines him? While his title may be gone, his duties are not. Celehar contends with a municipal cemetery with fifty years of secrets, the damage of a revethavar he’s terrified to remember, and a group of miners who are more than willing to trade Celehar’s life for a chance at what they feel they’re owed.
Celehar does not have to face these impossible tasks alone. Joining him are his mentee Velhiro Tomasaran, still finding her footing with the investigative nature of their job; Iäna Pel-Thenhior, his beloved opera director friend and avid supporter; and the valiant guard captain Hanu Olgarezh. Amidst the backdrop of a murder and a brewing political uprising, Celehar must seek justice for those who cannot find it themselves under a tense political system. The repercussions of his quest are never as simple they seem, and Celehar’s own life and happiness hang in the balance.

"At least she would not be lonely from here until the end of time."

Katherine Addison's The Tomb of Dragons is a stunning return to the world of the Goblin Emperor, and the final (or maybe not?) book in the separate series following Thara Celehar, Witness for the Dead. Unlike the first two books, this one isn't a novella, and the added length allows for the story to breathe more while allowing the readers to stay with Thara a little while yet.

Everything that makes this series so compelling is still present: the mundane narration about the day-to-day happenings of a Witness investigation, like a cozy mystery that's not entirely focused on finding out culprits, but more on the characters; the utter goodness of the main character, and his struggles as he learns to lean on others, indeed, as he learns how much he means to people; the intricate forms of address with various degrees of familiarity, and the dense, rich language.

The main case, so to speak, the titular Tomb of Dragons, allows for some very poignant points about grief and solitude and the greed of corporations; it was a joy to witness the resolution, and to see so many old characters return. It allowed for a much deeper delve into the rich worldbuilding, too, showing new places and new species. This isn't a book about great and terrible threats to the world, but a quiet reflection on bureaucracy and government, and while not all problems are solved (there's still racism, and homophobia), you get the sense that things are well underway.

There is a beautiful representation of an intense platonic bond between two men, which seemed to be going in another direction entirely in the previous books, but still it progressed in a believable way. On the other hand, there's a bait and switch for the object of Thara's affections that doesn't seem to make as much sense, or be as much developed, but it's still sweet, in a way. Thara is still mourning the man he loved and lost years before, but he does seem to allow himself to find love again here.

The Tomb of Dragons is a quiet marvel.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: The Raven Tower, by Ann Leckie

For centuries, the kingdom of Iraden has been protected by the god known as the Raven. He watches over his territory from atop a tower in the powerful port of Vastai. His will is enacted through the Raven's Lease, a human ruler chosen by the god himself. His magic is sustained via the blood sacrifice that every Lease must offer. And under the Raven's watch, the city flourishes. But the power of the Raven is weakening. A usurper has claimed the throne. The kingdom borders are tested by invaders who long for the prosperity that Vastai boasts. And they have made their own alliances with other gods.
It is into this unrest that the warrior Eolo--aide to Mawat, the true Lease--arrives. And in seeking to help Mawat reclaim his city, Eolo discovers that the Raven's Tower holds a secret. Its foundations conceal a dark history that has been waiting to reveal itself...and to set in motion a chain of events that could destroy Iraden forever.

“Perhaps, long or short, it mattered how one spent that time.”

Ann Leckie's The Raven Tower is an excellent standalone Hamlet-inspired novel with a twist about manipulative and manipulated gods. It features fascinating mythology and magic system, and a beautiful usage of the second person narration. The narrator is a delight, going on with patience about the past and the present and the power of language and stories, and about finally caring for someone. The novel explores themes of imperialism, power, and personal identity, the latter especially through the eyes of the ostensible main character, a transgender man named Eolo, whose gender is not what the story is about, but rather his gender is an important part of his identity that informs his decision-making and emotions and his relationships with several other characters. This books is a gem that I, for one, certainly intend to reread, as I read it upon publication.

✨ 5 stars

Review: Mal, by Perla Zul

Once upon a time, Mal was a spinster who could weave magic into his thread. Hired by the royal family, he met the young prince and the two became inseparable. But when the two attempted to save the kingdom, Mal was the only one to pay the price. He wakes up from a hundred year sleep with a body made of thorns and roses, his prince having never returned for him. Now, when that same kingdom he saved doesn't invite him to celebrate the birth of the princess, Mal brings his own gift...

"In the same way you'd love a flower, love yourself with that same power."

Perla Zul's Mal is a delightful novella retelling of The Sleeping Beauty, with a twist: Mal himself was victim of a sleeping curse, and as such bestows the same gift to the baby princess descended from the king of the realm he tried to save. He'll need to learn to let go of regret and resentment, and to love himself. As the hundred years of the princess' curse go by, we witness him grow and find friendship and love.

The novella has a strong fairy tale feel; the time jumps and the leaps of logic, which are very hit-or-miss in more straighforward stories, here work because of the dream-like quality of the narration. It really reads like an old story, sweet and magical. This effect also comes from the writing decision to have almost all dialogue rhyme, which is absolutely delightful, but it might not be for everyone. I know I loved it so much that I was grinning everytime a character spoke.

The characters' development is mostly off-screen, but again, given the strong fairy-tale feel that the author is going for, this works. The cast is a delight, with seven fairies who take Mal under their wings, and the fantastic character of the princess, and the prince destined to wake her up. We know how the original story goes, but we might be surprised by the fresh take of this retelling and by the narrative, circular direction.

Mal is a delightful retelling.

✨ 4 stars

ARC Review: Angel Eye, by Madeleine Nakamura

When a healer begins murdering hospital patients, Professor Adrien Desfourneaux discovers that the threat is far closer to him than he could have imagined.
Still recovering from a recent institutionalization and unable to trust his own mind or magic, Adrien is drawn into the witch hunt as suspicion falls upon those closest to him. The city’s inquisitors and witchfinders are losing control, the magicians are growing more and more resentful, and the scars from Adrien’s last brush with disaster refuse to fade. To put an end to the innocent deaths, to keep his dearest friends, and to prove himself worthy of a potential new romance, Adrien is forced to confront his own blind spots before he’s fatally ensnared by the angel of death’s machinations.

Thank you to Netgalley for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Madeleine Nakamura's Angel Eye is the gut-wrenching sequel to the excellent 2023 debut Cursebreakers (HERE you can read my review). It's a fast paced, tightly woven thriller, and the first half is absolutely anxiety-inducing and heart-breaking. The themes from the first novel are further explored, giving a nuanced read on addiction, mental illness, and hypersexuality, while also teeming with overwhelming kindness and understanding for battered protagonist Adrien, who just can't seem to catch a break. In this book, his support system grows exponentially, and it's a joy to read amidst the tears.

All the characters from the first novel get their moments to shine, their relationship to Adrien front and center, but it's the new characters that really sell this book and make this a perfect sequel, building on the already strong foundations and creating a perfect gem. Adrien's new keeper is an incredibly intense figure, sharp and terrifying and bigger than life; and his new love interest is just what he needs, sweet and loyal and utterly unafraid, their relationship growing organically and beautifully. There are othere addictions to the cast, all absolutely delightful.

The worldbuilding was really the only thing that I thought had some small problems in the first novel, and here the issues are corrected thanks to a more narrowed focus on the city and its politics. We also lose a bit of the focused academic setting, but it works because it allows for a more thorough exploration.

This book adds on the mental anguish from the first one by adding physical and mental torture, gaslighting, and attempted rape; as such, one might want to proceed with caution, but it's a rewarding read.

Angel Eye is an excellent sequel.

✨ 5 stars

ARC Review: A Body Not Her Own, by Eileen Farren

The women of Nora are dying. Hunted, for over two hundred years, by an immortal man seeking to kill the Goddess Eos and her reincarnations. As the current reincarnation, Enid's death was predicted. Being brought back to life wasn't. Caught between the weight of her past lives and her second chance, Enid finds herself tasked with the impossible: kill the Immortal Man and end his violent hundred-year streak before countless more women are slain.
To ensure her survival, she is assigned a bodyguard—the flirty and infuriating Elven woman named Locke—to guard her on her journey and see her assignment through to the end. An ancient rage is simmering under the surface of her skin, demanding blood. Death. Vengeance. Enid only has to stay alive long enough to satiate it.

Thank you to Netgalley for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Eileen Farren's A Body Not Her Own is is a sweet and simple romantasy set in a modern-ish world with magic, where gods are real and they can be killed and reincarnated. The focus is of course on the romance between the main character Enid and her bodyguard Locke, but there's some attempts at a bigger worldbuilding. The world feels like a generic fantasy world, not very developed, but the premise of the book is intriguing enough.

The relationship between Enid and Locke grows organically, from a heated one-night-stand to a love that defies all. The two of them have an easy banter that's fun to witness, but there's also drama and more serious moments. I love the bodyguard trope, and the book does not disappoint in that regard, with many istances where Enid has to be protected. But she's not a helpless damsel in distress, on the contrary she can defend herself. Locke on the other hand is the typical grizzled warrior who thinks she cannot have what she wants, and it's fun to see her lower her walls.

The supporting cast is big and varied, and from a specific moment forward we also have a few new povs, which was unexpected and a welcome change. A good number of characters are necromancers, which brings some novelty to the narration.

A Body Not Her Own is a nice debut.

✨ 3 stars

Review: No Gods for Drowning, by Hailey Piper

The old gods have fled, and the monsters they had kept at bay for centuries now threaten to drown the city of Valentine, hunting mankind as in ancient times. In the midst of the chaos, a serial killer has begun ritually sacrificing victims, their bodies strewn throughout the city. Lilac Antonis wants to stop the impending destruction of her city by summoning her mother, a blood god—even if she has to slit a few throats to do it. But evading her lover Arcadia and her friends means sneaking, lying, and even spilling the blood of people she loves. Alex and Cecil of Ace Investigations have been tasked with hunting down the killer, but as they close in—not knowing they're hunting their close friend Lilac—the detectives realize the gods may not have left willingly.
As flooding drags this city of cars and neon screaming into the jaws of sea demons and Arcadia struggles to save the people as captain of the evacuation team, Lilac’s ritual killings at last bear fruit, only to reveal her as a small piece in a larger plan. The gods’ protection costs far more than anyone has ever known, and Alex and Cecil are running out of time to discover the true culprit behind the gods’ disappearance before an ancient divine murder plot destroys them all.

"Sometimes, love's not enough, and good intentions die in the street."

Hailey Piper's No Gods for Drowning is a perfectly contained standalone set in a holy land abandoned by its gods. Now scattered cities are haunted by the threat of mythical sea figures who kill and vanish people, and by the sea moving inland to reclaim what was once an archipelago. In this oppressive climate, Lilac's decision to try and summon a god makes perfect sense, even though the necessary rituals amount to plain murder. This book plays a lot with the idea of morality and the dichotomy of right and wrong, showing there's no easy answer when faced with certain death.

The book contains multiple POVs. We follow Lilac, her lover who's an ex-soldier who couldn't follow terrible orders, and a duo of investigators from out of town. Lilac's relationship with Arcadia is already established, thus providing a good source of angst when the plot is revealed, but it's the friction with the detectives, one of them a friend to Lilac and the other to Arcadia, that makes for the bulk of the conflict, especially in the second half. Duty - with a dash of PTSD - and motherhood are also central themes.

The worldbuilding isn't especially original, but it's clear and well-developed, and it shines when the gods finally make an appearance. Twists and turns keep the readers on the edge of their seat, while the book turns from noir to an exploration of existential dread and what it means to be human and to be in a community, wrapping up with a finale that's devastating in its simplicity. Empathy, in the end, is what can save us.

No Gods for Drowning is a remarkable novel.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Tainted Cup, by Robert Jackson Bennet

In Daretana’s most opulent mansion, a high Imperial officer lies dead — killed, to all appearances, when a tree spontaneously erupted from his body. Even in this canton at the borders of the Empire, where contagions abound and the blood of the Leviathans works strange magical changes, it’s a death at once terrifying and impossible. Called in to investigate this mystery is Ana Dolabra, an investigator whose reputation for brilliance is matched only by her eccentricities.
At her side is her new assistant, Dinios Kol. Din is an engraver, magically altered to possess a perfect memory. His job is to observe and report, and act as his superior’s eyes and ears--quite literally, in this case, as among Ana’s quirks are her insistence on wearing a blindfold at all times, and her refusal to step outside the walls of her home. Din is most perplexed by Ana’s ravenous appetite for information and her mind’s frenzied leaps—not to mention her cheerful disregard for propriety and the apparent joy she takes in scandalizing her young counterpart. Yet as the case unfolds and Ana makes one startling deduction after the next, he finds it hard to deny that she is, indeed, the Empire’s greatest detective.

"Civilization is often a task that is only barely managed."

Robert Jackson Bennet's The Tainted Cup is an excellent murder mystery wrapped in the beautiful package of an immaculate worldbuilding, featuring an autistic investigator and her dyslexic assistant, who is our only narrator. This Watsonian figure is thus often as clueless as we are to the investigator's sharp deductions, and it's a delight to be there for the ride, desperately trying to keep up.

This really feels like much more of a mystery novel than a fantasy story, but I have an inkling that there will be a larger plot to unravel about the world. In this first book, the world is more in the background, but we are immersed in it with deft, precise, and small strokes. This is a world where people are artificially augmented in order to cover various tasks, where an empire built walls in order to protect the population from giant creatures called leviathans whose arrival by sea is heralded by earthquakes. This vividly painted world is teeming with contagions that scare the population, while the government is in a power struggle with powerful families. The books thus touches upon themes of classism and social injustice, and it's certain to delve more on them in the rest of the trilogy.

The interactions between Din and Ana are naturally an highlight of the book, with Din's inexperience playing well against Ana's greatness. He's not one to be intimidated, though, and he ends up being of great help thanks to his general stubborness. The rest of the cast is very vibrant, with many support characters who all feel very distinct and have their own development, following the big revelations coming from the investigation. There's even time for the sweet first steps of an achillean relationship between Din and another character, but it's not a focus.

The Tainted Cup is a great first installment.

✨ 4.5 stars

Review: But Not Too Bold, by Hache Pueyo

The old keeper of the keys is dead, and the creature who ate her is the volatile Lady of the Capricious House⁠―Anatema, an enormous humanoid spider with a taste for laudanum and human brides. Dália, the old keeper’s protégée, must take up her duties, locking and unlocking the little drawers in which Anatema keeps her memories. And if she can unravel the crime that led to her predecessor's death, Dália might just be able to survive long enough to grow into her new role.
But there’s a gaping hole in Dália’s plan that she refuses to see: Anatema cannot resist a beautiful woman, and she eventually devours every single bride that crosses her path.

"I hate being seen."

Hache Pueyo's But Not Too Bold is a Mexican novella leaning heavily on the weird side, with an ephemeral mystery plot that's more there to push the story along. The narrative follows Keeper of the Keys Dália as she investigates a theft under orders of her employer Anatema, a spider eldritch being who lives as a recluse on the third story of an isolated mansion filled with devoted servants. Anatema is appropriately terrifying, the detailed descriptions of her appearance a nightmare not only for arachnophobes.

This is a short story about learning to be seen. It's not just the eldritch being who needs to learn that and to trust her servants and her wives with her appearance, but also Dália, with her reluctance to be anything other than a servant with no aspirations and desires. Slowly, she finds herself willing to take risks and accept and embrace her desires - in short, being bold. The sweet ending perfectly encapsulates the titular motto.

But Not Too Bold is a short delight.

✨ 3.5 stars

Snippet: Until the Last Petal Falls, by Viano Oniomoh

When Eru was eleven years old, he met an unforgettable boy.Only a few weeks after, he forgot all about that boy. Ten years later, after his parents’ sudden deaths, all Eru wants is to find a way out of the village he was supposed to leave behind, and escape the abuse of his grieving grandmother. When he receives a summons from Able Mummy, the wife of the High Chief, it seems all of his prayers have been answered.
Able Mummy needs his help. But she and the High Chief have a secret. Once Eru uncovers the truth, he finds that the fate of the village, and that of the boy he’d been made to forget, could lie solely in his hands.

“Choose to live.”

Viano Oniomoh's Until the Last Petal Falls is a sweet queerplatonic retelling of Beauty and the Beast set in present-day Nigeria, a cozy novella featuring Nigerian folklore, many pop culture references, and a lovely exploration of the blossoming bond between two young men who are both aroace. The book races through their relationship, making it difficult to really care about them, especially with many developments being off-screen. It's still a sweet read, a perfect palate cleanser.

✨ 3 stars

Review: Time's Agent, by Brenda Peynado

Since humanity discovered the existence of pocket worlds, academics have embarked on exploratory missions as agents for the Institute for the Scientific and Humanistic Study of Portal Worlds to study this new technology and harness the potential of a seemingly limitless horizon. Archeologist Raquel and her biologist wife Marlena once dreamed the pocket worlds held the key to solving the universe’s mysteries.
Now, forty years in the future, Raquel is a disgraced ex-agent, pocket worlds are controlled by corporations squeezing every penny out of all colonizable space and time, and Marlena now lives in a pocket universe Raquel wears around her neck in which time passes faster than on Earth, and no longer speaks to her. Standing in the ruins of her dream and her calling, Raquel seizes one last chance to redeem herself, to her wife and her own failed ideals and confront what it means to save something―or someone―from time.

"Without time, everything is beautiful."

Brenda Peynado's Time's Agent is a sci-fi novella about time and grief, an alt-history take on the disappearence of the Taino people in what today is the Dominican Republic. Set in a world teeming with hidden entrances to pocket worlds, it deals with capitalism and colonialism and it's vibrant with fascinating concepts and a lush prose that really sells the imagery.

At its heart, it's a quiet story about how to deal with loss, especially the death of a child, and how it can tear a marriage apart. The main character, a sapphic woman in her thirties, has to deal with this loss alone for a portion of the book, as her wife needs time and space and solitude. The two plots end up mixing well into a delicate but heart-wrenching epilogue.

Time's Agent is a small gem.

✨ 4 stars

Review: Legend of the White Snake, by Sher Lee

When Prince Xian was a boy, a white snake bit his mother and condemned her to a slow, painful death. The only known cure is an elusive spirit pearl—or an antidote created from the rare white snake itself. Desperate and determined, Xian travels to the city of Changle, where an oracle predicted he would find and capture a white snake. In Changle, Xian encounters an enigmatic but beautiful stable boy named Zhen. The two are immediately drawn to each other, but Zhen soon realizes that he is the white snake Xian is hunting. As their feelings grow deeper, will the truth about Zhen’s identity tear them apart?

"Destiny is an excuse people give not to fight for what they really want in life."

Sher Lee's Legend of the White Snake is an achillean YA retelling of a chinese story about a snake spirit who can take a human form. It's a fresh retelling, keeping some beats of the original story while giving it its own spin. The relationship between the snake and the prince feels very much like insta-love, but it works in the context of it being a retelling, and the two main characters face enough development that that doesn't feel like a problem.

At first the characters feel a bit mono-dimensional, but they are given time to breathe and are explored more. Filial love is explored, and so is piety. The final third, with its twists and turns, felt very fast, but not too much.

This novel is very precise in describing a multitude of cultural aspects, from how to walk in and out of a temple to the different ways of dressing. It feels like a tame introduction to more famous and definitely more explicit danmei novels, which isn't inherently a bad thing.

Legend of the White Snake is a lovely read.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: Ice Upon a Pier, by Ladz

Ruta Pawlak is one of the most successful contract killers Pier-Upon-Pier City has ever seen. Convicted of five murders that landed her multiple life sentences, her kill count allegedly sits between fifteen and two hundred people. Some were just for practice, others for revenge, and others she executed for money to keep her potentially world-record setting reading collection going.
For the first time, a biographer sits down with the legendary killer to hear her story in her own words. Get the details on her relationship with her depraved bosses and her eclectic arsenal of murder weapons from ice magic to poison to even the sun itself. From her impoverished upbringing to her introduction to the Syndicates to her bizarre affair with fellow killer Frieda Masters to Ruta’s eventual downfall, this account goes beyond headlines and court proceedings, weaving a story of love, family, survival, and murder.

"My warped sense of morality embarrasses me."

Ladz's Ice Upon a Pier is a sparse novella chronicling the life of a sapphic contract killer with ice powers. The narration jumps from past to present as she recounts her first kills, her romance with a fellow assassin, and how she eventually ended up in prison. She's unapologetic in her stories, with a caustic tone that works well, and ends up being very sympathetic, given her backstory and her self-imposed rules.

The worldbuilding is truly minimal, but this is a nice palate cleanser, a story with a noir feel and an Interview with the Vampire vibe. Coincidentally, vampires do exist in this world where crime syndicates make war on one another, and one makes an appearance. One gets the feeling that a sequel could be in the works, but the story is perfectly self-contained.

Ice Upon a Pier is a compact novella.

✨ 3.5 stars

Snippet: When Among Crows, by Veronica Roth

On Kupala Night, Dymitr arrives in Chicago’s monstrous, magical underworld with a perilous mission: pick the mythical fern flower and offer it to a cursed creature in exchange for help finding the legendary witch Baba Jaga. Ala is a fear-eating zmora afflicted with a bloodline curse that’s slowly killing her. She's just desperate enough to say yes to Dymitr, even if she doesn’t know his motives.
Over the course of one night, Ala and Dymitr risk life and limb in search of Baba Jaga, and begin to build a tentative friendship. . . but when Ala finds out what Dymitr is hiding, it could destroy them both.

“Magic is crooked, and so are we.”

Veronica Roth's When Among Crows is an excellent novella about grief, regret, and redemption. With a few deft strokes and a masterful economy of words, it paints a complete story with fascinating protagonists and explores a well-described world teeming with creatures from Slavik folklore. Chicago comes to life and so do banshees and stryga and zmory. The queer development was a welcome surprise, an ephemeral attraction growing into acceptance and love.

✨ 4.5 stars

Review: Lucy Undying, by Kiersten White

Her name was written in the pages of someone else's story: Lucy Westenra was one of Dracula's first victims. But her death was only the beginning. Lucy rose from the grave a vampire, and has spent her immortal life trying to escape from Dracula's clutches--and trying to discover who she really is and what she truly wants. Her undead life takes an unexpected turn when, in twenty-first-century London, she meets another woman who is also yearning to break free from her past. Iris’s family has built a health empire based on a sinister secret, and they’ll do anything to stay in power.
Lucy has long believed she would never love again. But she finds herself compelled by the charming Iris, while Iris is mesmerized by the confident and glamorous Lucy. But their intense connection and blossoming love is threatened by forces from without. Iris's mother won't let go of her without a fight, and Lucy's past still has fangs: Dracula is on the prowl again. Lucy Westenra has been a tragically murdered teen, a lonesome adventurer, and a fearsome hunter, but happiness always eluded her. Can she find the strength to destroy Dracula once and for all, or will her heart once again be her undoing?

"We're mausoleums, holding the girls we were with tenderness, and love, and strength."

Kiersten White's Lucy Undying is a sapphic and feminist retelling of Dracula, told through the perspective of Lucy Westenra and spanning one hundred and fifty years. There are two timelines; one set in the present, where a young woman escaping a cult finds young Lucy's diary, detailing her version of the Dracula novel, and the other detailing the years after the end of the Dracula novel, with Lucy searching for meaning, for Dracula, and for herself. The two storylines converge into a soft sapphic romance and an explosive ending where a conspiracy is unearthed and dealt with.

This is a novel about sapphic yearning, finding your true self, forgiving yourself, and the struggle against patriarchy. It's also a radical retelling of some core aspects of the original novel, and staunch fans of the book might not appreciate those changes, but they work in the context of this story, and make for an interesting perspective. The way these changes are tied to the present storyline works well enough, turning the book into a kind of thriller.

The final third of the book loses the balance of the first two thirds a little, as the cult storyline takes precedence and a new PoV is added in the form of short glimpses into the mind of a predator. Almost like in Dracula, the author plays a lot with different kinds of narrative styles, employing first person narration, second person, letters and texts, a third person section, and bits that read a little like Anne Rice's Interview with the Vampire. This might feel chaotic at first, but it's handled deftly enough.

The book shines with the vividly painted vampires Dracula created over the years, especially three figures that return again and again in Lucy's tale, and gives justice and agency to Lucy, painting the tragedy of being a young woman trapped by societal rules. Her journey is really the focal point of the novel, while also portraying the trappings of modern day cult-like organizations.

Lucy Undying is a sumptuous retelling.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Lost Story, by Meg Shaffer

As boys, best friends Jeremy Cox and Rafe Howell went missing in a vast West Virginia state forest, only to mysteriously reappear six months later with no explanation for where they’d gone or how they’d survived. Fifteen years after their miraculous homecoming, Rafe is a reclusive artist who still bears scars inside and out but has no memory of what happened during those months. Meanwhile, Jeremy has become a famed missing persons’ investigator. With his uncanny abilities, he is the one person who can help vet tech Emilie Wendell find her sister, who vanished in the very same forest as Rafe and Jeremy.
Jeremy alone knows the fantastical truth about the disappearances, for while the rest of the world was searching for them, the two missing boys were in a magical realm filled with impossible beauty and terrible danger. He believes it is there that they will find Emilie’s sister. However, Jeremy has kept Rafe in the dark since their return for his own inscrutable reasons. But the time for burying secrets comes to an end as the quest for Emilie’s sister begins. The former lost boys must confront their shared past, no matter how traumatic the memories.

"You kill an artist, you kill all their unmade art too. Why don't people think about that before they hurt each other?"

Meg Shaffer's The Lost Story is a delightfully quirky and profound fairy tale about loss, found family, and forgiveness. This portal fantasy pulls no punches, crafting a story that doesn't shy away from harsher realities but instead, it builds on them. This isn't the first book to reflect on the conventions of the subgenre, nonetheless it does it well, and is in fact very moving in parts. The story follows equally the three main characters in a third person PoV that allows to delve into their stories as they search for Emilie's missing sister and for the truth about their own old disappearance; meanwhile, old feelings arise between Rafe and Jeremy, unveiling the delicate story of a friendship that can move mountains.

Their relationship is fascinating, complex, and very moving, showing how much love can survive anything. Now in their thirties, they're estranged, but fall back together with the easy simplicity of souls that know one another very well. The first third of the book deals with the mundanity of our world and Jeremy trying to get back Rafe's trust, just enough that he can join him and Emilie in their journey to find her sister. It's a necessary introduction, as we begin to see the depth of Jeremy's love and glimpse flashes of Rafe's trauma too. In the backdrop of the whimsical realm they're brought to, we see them grow closer together and reignite their friendship as the book careens towards a gruesome confrontation with the ghost of Rafe's past.

Emilie doesn't get much focus, but what we see is enough to make her a lovable addition. Queen Skya is another great character, a queen in her own right and a woman with a secret past, allowing the book to explore more the themes of escapism and abuse. This is really a lovely story about finding joy and peace and overcoming one's fears.

The prose is a bit of a hit and miss, its lyrical moments and profound musings interwoven with bits of dialogue that aim to be fresh and funny and filled with pop culture references. The narrator also takes the reins every once in a few chapters to directly address the reader, which might not be everyone's cup of tea.

The Lost Story is a wondrous tale.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Sun and the Void, by Gabriela Romero Lacruz

Reina is desperate. Stuck on the edges of society, Reina's only hope lies in an invitation from a grandmother she's never met. But the journey to her is dangerous, and prayer can't always avert disaster. Attacked by creatures that stalk the mountains, Reina is on the verge of death until her grandmother, a dark sorceress, intervenes. Now dependent on the Dona's magic for her life, Reina will do anything to earn-and keep-her favor. Even the bidding of an ancient god who whispers to her at night.
Eva Kesare is unwanted. Illegitimate and of mixed heritage, Eva is her family's shame. She tries to be the perfect daughter, but Eva is hiding a secret: magic calls to her. Eva knows she should fight the temptation. Magic is the sign of the dark god, and using it is punishable by death. Yet it's hard to ignore power when it has always been denied you. Eva is walking a dangerous path, one that gets stranger every day. And in the end, she'll become something she never imagined.

"Sometimes the garden path lined by rosebushes could lead to a thicket of thorns."

Gabriela Romero Lacruz's The Sun and the Void is the first book in a fantasy duology inspired by Venezuelan folklore, exploring themes of racism and twisted family dynamics well. The two PoV characters go each on a journey from passivity to taking agency and making choices. They’re not perfect characters, in fact they might infuriate some readers, but the author treats them seriously.

With her plot about being complicit in a sacrificial ritual, Reina is an unlikable protagonist who nevertheless is done very well, and following her journey of realization is very satisfying. Bound to the family that saved her, she latches onto the kinder members, willing to do everything that's asked of her, but the choices she makes at some turns are her saving grace. Eva is similarly trapped by her own blood relatives who despise the manner of her birth, and finally takes matters into her hands to carve her own path and save herself. As their paths cross, they're both changed by the experience, and their choices will prove to be explosive.

The supporting cast holds up well. Reina's grandmother shines with all her complexities, making her a well-rounded antagonist, and so does Celeste, a complicated character with a holier-than-thou attitude. The biggest surprises are Maior, graduating from background character to something more, and Javier, violent character with surprising depths. The interpersonal relationships between all these characters range from well-explored to barely scraping the surface, making some of the final beats inexplicable. Reina's relationship to Maior in particular suffers from this.

The worldbuilding is complex and intriguing, with an interesting magical system and races that are seen as other and dangerous. Our two main characters suffer from systemic racism, in a world where religious colonialism changed the attitude of the conquered land. There's political upheaval and a fight for their rights, but it's rather in the background, except in a big moment that should feel momentous but leads to absolutely nothing. Queerness isn't well-accepted either, and one could argue the need for recognition and the resentment towards who can pass are important themes of the book. Reina's infatuation with Celeste suffers from the ostracism in this world, and possibly we'll see in the next book the consequences of her beginning a relationship with a woman.

The pacing is the main problem of the novel, especially between the first and the second part of the book; the prose is at times evocative and at others a bit nonsensical.

The Sun and the Void is a promising debut with an interesting premise.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: Peregrine Seas, by R.C. Ballad

Prince Peregrine couldn’t be happier to be kidnapped by pirates. Peregrine wasn’t cut out for the restrictive life of a nobleman – he's hungry for adventure, prone to duelling, and his family refuse to believe he's any kind of man at all. Despite his royal origins, he has more in common with the outcasts and rebels aboard the Cygnus that anyone onshore.He just needs to convince the captain of that before his ransom's paid.
Captain Alastar Macdara knows better than to trust an English prince. He has his hands full keeping his ragged crew together, and the last thing he needs is to be burdened with some foppish dandy—however charming. This particular hostage is more trouble than Alastar planned used to getting his own way, as stubborn as Alastar and not afraid to tell him when he’s wrong. But Alastar knows a thing or two about being an outcast, and his honourable streak refuses to let him send Peregrine back to a life of misery. The ransom might be off, but that doesn’t mean Peregrine is part of the crew.

"The art of negotation."

R.C. Ballad's Peregrine Seas is a fun and quick pirate story featuring a sorta-merman pirate captain and a kidnapped prince who's more than willing to leave his kingdom. Set in our world, this fast-paced novel tells a delicate and funny story about found family, belonging, and making the most of your situation.

The love story between captain and prince develops fairly quickly, born from attraction at first, but it gets interesting beats towards the end. The real gem of this book however is the colorful crew, some of them with intriguing secrets, and the sea serpents and krakens the crew have to face.

The book draws clear inspiration from Our Flag Means Death, and in fact one could definitely depict most of the cast while reading. The tone is the same too, making for a heartfelt tribute.

Peregrine Seas is perfect for a relaxing read.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: The Last Hour Between Worlds, by Melissa Caruso

Kembral Thorne is spending a few hours away from her newborn, and she's determined to enjoy the party no matter what. But when the guests start dropping dead, Kem has no choice but to get to work. She's a member of the Guild of Hounds, after all, and she can't help picking up the scent of trouble. She's not the only one. Her professional and personal nemesis, notorious burglar Rika Nonesuch, is on the prowl.
They quickly identify what's causing the mayhem: a mysterious grandfather clock that sends them down an Echo every time it chimes. In each strange new layer of reality, time resets and a sinister figure appears to perform a blood-soaked ritual. As Kem and Rika fall into increasingly macabre versions of their city, they'll need to rely on their wits - and each other - to unravel the secret of the clock and save their city.

"Your life was always worth something, you insufferable fool."

Melissa Caruso's The Last Hour Between Worlds is an excellent magical mystery with a Groundhog Day twist, immaculate world-building, and a compelling relationship developing in a matter of hours. This first volume in a trilogy that promises to be explosive sets the scene for a story with clear stakes and memorable characters.

The main character and sole PoV, Kembral, is a great protagonist. On leave after giving birth to her daughter, she's quick to action and set on doing the right thing, even if it might mean not seeing her infant child again. She's a competent protagonist without being overpowered, even if she does have a special skill that sets her aside from the rest of her colleagues, but it's a learned skill, and she's not the only one to have it. Her dynamics with rival Guild member Rika are a delight, their shared past the real meat of the story, and Rika's an equally compelling character with secrets of her own. Their verbal sparring is fun and the way they set to work together a marvel.

This isn't a romantasy, the central mystery means they're on a clock, and the book balances that out pretty well. The supporting cast does a lot of heavy lifting, a number of colorful and interesting characters, each with their own voice and their own complex relationships. I especially loved the fiery swordswoman and her sibling, and I can't wait to see them explored more.

The worldbuilding is precise while not being overwhelming. It doesn't hand-feed the reader, but rather it allows to glean everything from context in a clear and concise manner. The Echoes, parallel universes of sorts, were especially interesting with their slighter differences the deeper one goes, and the Empyreans - functionally demigods - were appropriately eerie. The inner workings were clear if one is familiar with Faerie and fairy deals, spinning a familiar environment for the reader while doing something new with it. The Prime world had a lot of interesting dynamics and politics, too, which I can't wait to read more about.

The Last Hour Between Worlds is a delightful introduction to a new world.

✨ 4.5 stars

Snippet: The Wizard and the Welshman, by Laura Rayndrop

London, December 1886. A woman is gruesomely murdered, a mysterious organ missing from her cracked-open chest. Investigating the case, Kensington’s top inspector, Hal Hawthorne, quickly discovers that the victim wasn't human—and neither is her killer. When he saves the captivating wizard November from becoming the next target, Hal is thrust into a world of nightmarish creatures and dark magic. But the deeper Hal becomes entangled in the case, the more he comes to believe that November isn’t just a wizard with mind-bending powers, but also holds the key to unraveling the web of dark magic and murder.
Can Hal solve the case and protect November, or will the murderer claim him and destroy Hal’s life forever? And what will Hal have to sacrifice to stop the killings and save the man he’s come to love?

“Every person who entered a crime scene took something from it.”

Laura Rayndrop's The Wizard and the Welshman is a cozy way to start the new year, a romantasy mystery featuring a no-nonsense cop with a painful past, a male sex worker with a secret, and a chaotic world-building. The mystery at the heart of the story is a series of gruesome murders; to solve the case, the cop will have to tangle himself with a magical underworld he had no idea existed. The story is pretty simple in its beats, but simple is good sometimes. The worldbuilding is where it falls flat, with a plethora of magical beings all lumped together and no clear worldbuilding. This is balanced by a heartfelt exploration of child trauma and homophobia, culminating in a precious moment at the end. This book is the first in a trilogy.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: Countess, by Suzan Palumbo

Virika Sameroo lives in colonized space under the Æerbot Empire, much like her ancestors before her in the British West Indies. After years of working hard to rise through the ranks of the empire’s merchant marine, she’s finally become first lieutenant on an interstellar cargo vessel.
When her captain dies under suspicious circumstances, Virika is arrested for murder and charged with treason despite her lifelong loyalty to the empire. Her conviction and subsequent imprisonment set her on a path to justice, determined to take down the evil empire that wronged her, all while the fate of her people hangs in the balance.

"Success or perish."

Suzan Palumbo's Countess is a Caribbean sci-fi retelling of The Count of Montecristo, an anti-colonial novella that takes the beloved character of Edmond Dantes and makes him a queer immigrant woman on a quest for revenge. Set in an inter-galactic Empire, the book follows the classic's plot pretty closely, giving it its own spin and exploring well the themes of homophobia, racism and colonialism.

The low page number doesn't do the story any favors, picking up speed and summarily summarising plot points that should have been given time to breathe. This is especially true in the second half, where the main character barrels through scene after scene after finding a crew of rebels. The heightened finale, though heart-breaking, doesn't fully work because we didn't have the time to truly appreciate the characters.

Countess is an ambitious experiment.

✨ 3.5 stars