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