Review: Honor and Heresy, by Max Francis

 

Roy Dawnseve cares more for philosophy than battle. But, in a society that shuns literature in favour of their ongoing war, Roy must face a difficult choice: brave the front lines or investigate the identity of their foes in the Orphic Basilica, an ancient, abandoned library. When Roy chooses to unravel the mystery, it soon becomes clear that the Orphic Basilica isn’t without its own horrors. Strange voices echo down the halls, ghosts roam the bookshelves, and those who stepped foot in the library have either emerged insane or were driven to their own demise.
Roy’s partner in the investigation is Percival Atherton, a manipulative, enigmatic and distractingly charming scholar who has no qualms about belittling Roy. As a fierce snowstorm isolates them from civilisation, Roy and Percival must grapple with their tormented pasts, an unexpected romance, and an age-old conspiracy whose secrets are certain to wipe Northgard from history.

​“​Better it be my nightmare than a whole country's.”

Max Francis' Honor and Heresy is an achillean dark academia novel set in a fantasy world where scholars are put to death. The intriguing premise doesn't live up to its promise, and we're put in a claustrophobic setting, an enormous library, where our two main characters have to do research about a nebulous threat. The novel is mostly about the research, and while the snippets we get of this world's body of work are tantalising, the focus narrows down to the narrator's trauma.

There wasn't a good balance between plot, worldbuilding, and the character's inner life, and what we get is a strange concoction whose abrupt and truncated ending makes no sense at all and falls absolutely flat. Which is a shame, because the bare bones of the novel are really good. 

Honor and Heresy is a missed opportunity.

✨ 3.5 stars

 

Review: The Fox and the Devil, by Kiersten White

 

Anneke has a complicated relationship with her father, Abraham Van Helsing—doctor, scientist, and madman devoted to studying vampires—up until the night she comes home to find him murdered, with a surreally beautiful woman looming over his body. A woman who leaves no trace behind, other than the dreams and nightmares that plague Anneke every night. Spurred by her desire for vengeance and armed with the latest in forensic and investigatory techniques, Anneke puts together a team of detectives to catch her mysterious serial killer. Because her father isn’t the only inexplicably dead body. There’s a trail of victims across Europe and Anneke is certain they’re all connected.
But during the years spent relentlessly hunting the killer, Anneke keeps some crucial evidence to herself: infuriatingly coy letters, addressed only to Anneke, occasionally soaked in blood, and always signed Diavola. Devil. The obsession is mutual, and all the more dangerous for it. The closer Anneke gets to her devil, though, the less sense the world makes. Maybe her father wasn’t a madman, after all. Diavola might be something much worse than a serial killer . . . and much harder to destroy. Because as Anneke unearths more of Diavola’s tragic past, she suspects there’s still a heart somewhere in that undead body. A heart that beats for Anneke alone.

​“Every contact leaves a trace.”

Kiersten White's The Fox and the Devil is a horror mystery filled with sapphic yearning. Much like the author's previous novel Lucy Undying (HERE you can find my review), it takes inspiration from Dracula, although at a much smaller level, only pulling out the character of Van Helsing as a starting point. Here we follow his daughter Anneke as she contends with the fact that monster are indeed real, and we follow her investigation across Europe as she hunts a hunter, a horrific serial killer. Having Dracula in mind meant that I had my own preconceptions about what was happening behind the scenes, and it was delightful to be proven wrong.

White instead writes something that is only marginally about vampires, and more about yearning and obsession and finding something to live for again. Despite her inner turmoil, Anneke is a competent character, a sharp detective, and together with her coterie of friends she solves impossible murders. Diavola is a great foil, and once we get to know her better, a fascinating character. The progression of their relationship, from foes to something more, is slow and quiet, keeping in line with the times.

The writing is simpler than White's previous novel, where she experimented with different formats with stunning results, but this is a quieter story. The author did a lot of research about the society and historical figures of the Nineteenth Century, and it shows. 

The Fox and the Devil is an excellent book.

✨ 4 stars

 

Review: The Gentleman and his Vowsmith, by Rebecca Ide

 

Lord Nicholas Monterris, the last remaining heir of a crumbling ducal house, must marry to save his family from complete decline. His father chooses Lady Leaf Serral, eldest daughter of his greatest rival, at which point Nic is sure it can’t get any worse. Until he learns the head negotiator is to be Dashiell sa Vare, an old flame he has neither forgiven nor forgotten, a man their rigid class structure forbids him to love.
Locked in the mouldering grandeur of Monterris Court (a house more haunting manifestation of dynastic ambition and ancestral guilt than home), the first dead body is troubling. The second, a warning that someone doesn’t want the contract to go ahead. But while Nic and his wife-to-be team up to banter their way through a secret murder investigation, it’s Dashiell he can’t stop thinking about. What would be worse? To love and have to let go, or to wholly deny the yearning of one’s heart forever?

​“​Too well did he know the feeling of love where no​ love ought to live.”

Rebecca Ide's The Gentleman and his Vowsmith is an achillean romantasy murder mystery with a lot of moving pieces that unfortunately don't work quite so well with each other. The plot, while simple, is all over the place, with the late addition of some twists and turns that don't make much sense. The worldbuilding is again very simple, and while the concept of the binding contracts and the illusion magic is intriguing, it's not developed enough.

On the other hand, the romance is sweet and mired with conflict new and old, and there's a delightful secondary character taking on much of the space and undertaking a compelling arc, a young woman possibly on the asexual spectrum.

The Gentleman and his Vowsmith is a nice romance.

✨ 3.5 stars

 

Review: This Vicious Hunger, by Francesca May

 

Thora Grieve finds herself destitute and an outcast after the sudden death of her husband only a few weeks into their marriage, but a glimmer of hope arrives when a family friend offers her spot at a university to study botany under a famed professor. Once at the university Thora becomes entranced by a mysterious young woman, Olea, who emerges each night to tend to the plants in the professor's private garden.
Thora soon discovers that a mysterious illness prevents Olea from leaving the garden. Hungry for connection, Thora befriends Olea through the garden gate and their relationship quickly and intensely blossoms. The visceral connection between Thora and Olea unlocks an obsessive desire in Thora as she throws herself into finding a cure for Olea's ailment. But is this really love or is it merely lustful intoxication? Thora's finally found the freedom to pursue her deepest desires, but at what cost?

"Nobody liked to be reminded of the proximity of grief; least of all the young and beautiful." 

Francesca May's This Vicious Hunger is a sapphic gothic horror novel about grief and finding one’s place as a woman in a world where women can do very little, and about overcoming abuse. The themes are very strong and the writing beautifully lyrical, but the plot is all over the place while slowly ambling, and the characters are a bit cardboard, with the sole exception of the narrator. 

The worldbuilding is confusing, using Latin and some imagery that makes it seem like it's a historical novel, but some other things point towards a secondary world. That being so unclear pulls the reader out.

The most intriguing part is certainly the focus on plants and a form of vampirism, but the abrupt end and the lack of closure doesn't do it any favors.

This Vicious Hunger doesn't hold up to its premise.

✨ 3 stars

 

ARC Review: Heaven's Graveyard, by Grace Curtis

Cod became an archaeologist to chase the ghost of her hero, Aleya Ana-Ulai. History may have written Aleya off as a myth, but Cod is determined to prove she existed, even if it means sifting through relics for the rest of her life. Then a message arrives summoning her home. Cod's former teacher has found something monumental: the ruins of an enchanted city, slumbering beneath the soil.
This could be the breakthrough they've always dreamed of. But with war brewing, rival powers circling, and ancient magics stirring underfoot, their discovery soon becomes far more trouble than it's worth. Even Cod starts to wonder if some things are better left buried.

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

Grace Curtis's Heaven's Graveyard is a fantastical murder mystery set some two thousand years after Idolfire, the author's first foray into fantasy. This one's more of a science fantasy mix as we see a world that completely forgot its magical roots and developed similarly enough to ours. Idolfire is referenced heavily, but the novel works well enough on its own, giving tantalizing hints that prompt the reader to go back to it, wondering how much of what is referenced is true and how much is fiction.

The book offers fascinating insights into archeology and the pull of ancient history as we follow Coda, a young academic on a mission to prove that her favorite piece of folklore is a real story. The novel kicks off when she gets called back to her hometown and she's forced to start an investigation, confront her own tumultuous past, and see her troublesome ex-girlfriend again. In the background, whispers of a war between countries don't really reach us, as the worldbuilding relies somewhat on knowledge of the previous novel. The story careens towards a high-stakes final confrontation and wraps up everything nicely.

But at its core, the book is about Coda's inner journey from a person who flees from conflict and has trouble with making connections in her everyday life. She reads as neurodivergent in some ways, and the book doesn't magically fix her, but it gives her the tools to better live.

Heaven's Graveyard is a lovely read.

✨ 4 stars

 

 

ARC Review: Princeweaver, by Elian J. Morgan

Born with forbidden, nature-infused magic in an occupied land, anxious apothecary Meilyr survives by keeping his head down. Until he ends up engaged to invading prince Osian in order to save his brother’s life. Now, he is in a deadly game of cat-and-mouse to hide his true self.
When nobles in Osian's court are gruesomely murdered by the same magic that flows through his veins, Meilyr realises someone is seeking revenge for his homeland. As suspicion towards him grows, he and the prince work together to uncover the killer, or risk losing the crown - or their lives. Between court politics, unwieldy magic and a murderer on the loose, Meilyr must keep his wits about him. Especially as his feelings for Osian grow deeper with every passing day...

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

Elian J. Morgan's Princeweaver is an achillean murder mystery inspired by Welsh folklore and filled with yearning, also offering a stern condemnation of colonialism and showing the toll it takes on the land and its people. It perfectly sets the pieces for what promises to be a gorgeous series, but readers should be warned that the ending is quite abrupt and heart-wrenching, leading to the ferocious need to immediately get to the next book.

The slow burn between Meilyr and Osian is exquisite and acutely slow, a perfect counter to the terrifying and quite horrific murder spree happening around them. Meilyr is a sympathetic protagonist, torn between his secret past and the loyalty to his wrecked land, and the love he starts to bear for the very representative of the kingdom that destroyed his home. For his part, Osian is keenly aware of the wrongs of his royal family, and it shows both in his politics and in the tender respect he gives Meilyr, every interaction between them laden with care and attention. It's rare, refreshing, and beautiful to see so much attention given to consent, even for the smallest gestures, and each moment truly is swoon-worthy. There seems to be demisexual representation, too, which is lovely to see.

The rich worldbuilding ensnares the reader, seamlessly weaving elements of folklore into the narrative. The countryside of the Welsh-inspired conquered nation is rarely explored, most of the action set in the keep, but the old magic and the incredible resilience of its people seep through, especially with the focus on the banned language and on the persecution of magical individuals. The focus on herbology is also very interesting, and the magical system derived from it is clearly described.

This being a mystery, it offers clues that a more savvy reader may catch quickly on; I was personally taken aback, having been working on a completely different theory, but the signs were there, ready to lead to a stunning showstopper of an ending.

Princeweaver is a gorgeous first installment.

✨ 5 stars

 

Snippet: Songs for Ghosts, by Clara Kumagai

 

Seventeen-year-old Adam has just broken up with his boyfriend Evan and is not looking forward to the excruciating awkwardness at school for the rest of term or a whole summer stuck at home with his dad, stepmom and baby brother, Benji.
But then Adam discovers a diary in some boxes in the attic and is quickly enthralled by their poignant story. They were written by a young woman living in Nagasaki in 1911. Adam is enraptured by her life and loves, becoming totally absorbed in her story. And then he starts to be haunted by her ghostly presence...

Clara Kumagai's Songs for Ghosts is a lovely YA exploration of grief, war, and self-discovery, equal parts chilling ghost story, retelling of the orientalist classic Madama Butterfly, and history lesson. Through the dual narrative - in the modern day, a biracial gay teen finds the diary of a young woman living in Nagasaki at the start of the century - we explore issues of consent, war crimes, and the intricacies of family. The tragic protagonist of Puccini's opera is given depth, a rich inner life, and a somewhat gentler fate that also ends up emboding the very fabric of Japan's tragedy. Her section is filled with old tales and references, effortlessly drawing from Japan's history and folklore. Adam's section mirrors and compliments hers well, though his problems may seem smaller in comparison; throughout the narrative loom very real ghostly presences. The soft ending brings a sense of closure.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: The Chimes, by Anna Smaill

 

In the absence of both memory and writing is music. In a world where the past is a mystery, each new day feels the same as the last, and before is blasphemy, all appears lost. But Simon Wythern, a young man who arrives in London seeking the truth about what really happened to his parents, discovers he has a gift that could change all of this forever.

“Some memories tell us about who we are.”

Anna Smaill's The Chimes is a dystopian YA set in an imagined London where the written word has been forbidden and destroyed and memories don't survive the night. It's a very atmospheric piece of writing, a bit longer than a novella, a love letter to the power of music and the importance of memories. The beautiful first half gives way to a more fast-paced second half as the revolution strikes and young orphan Simon falls in love with a freedom fighter. It's a lovely queer tale from a time (merely a decade ago) when it was still difficult to find anything like it for queer youth.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Last Soul Among Wolves, by Melissa Caruso

 

All Kembral Thorne wants is to finish her maternity leave in peace. But when her best friend asks for help, she can’t say no, even if it means a visit to a run-down mansion on an isolated island for a will reading. She arrives to find an unexpected reunion of her childhood friends—plus her once-rival, now-girlfriend Rika Nonesuch, there on a mysterious job. Then the will is read, and everything goes sideways.
Eight potential heirs, half of them Kem’s oldest friends. Three cursed relics. The rules: one by one, the heirs will die. The prize for the lone survivor: A wish. And wishes are always bad business. To save their friends, Kem and Rika must race against the clock and descend into other realities once more. But the mansion is full of old secrets and new schemes, and soon the game becomes far more dangerous—and more personal—than they could have imagined.

"It's my human life that has shaped me."

Melissa Caruso's The Last Soul Among Wolves does suffer from the middle book syndrome, taking the excellent premise and characters and concocting a fun adventure that doesn't develop much of either. The sole narrator, Kembral, is settling into her relationship with Rika when a new problem arises and it's another race to a solution over the course of a few days. The formula is the same, but while the first book had a fresh new take on timeloops, this magical whoddunit with a taste of Agatha Christie is a bit all over the place.

The actual case is appropriately eerie, especially when we once again get to explore the levels and its rules and to see the Empyreans in action. One in particular is delightfully creepy, and her actions and goals make sense given the inner rules. In this, the worldbuilding doesn't disappoint.

The character work however loses some of its brilliance. The huge supporting cast was well-balanced in the first book, but here the game is given away way too early. The main problem however is the main couple. Rika and Kembral have a sweet relationship, still learning how to balance their work and being together, but a huge moment of broken trust is treated like a plot beat and, in my opinion, not really resolved or rather a bit thrown under the carpet.

The Last Soul Among Wolves is an entertaining book.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: A Treachery of Swans, by A.B. Poranek

 

Raised by a sorcerer, Odile has spent years preparing for the heist of a lifetime. It’s perfectly simple. Impersonate a princess, infiltrate the palace, steal the king's enchanted crown and restore magic to the kingdom. 
But when the King is unexpectedly murdered, she’s forced to recruit the help of Marie d'Odette, the real princess, and the two begin to unravel a web of lies and deceit that leaves Odile uncertain of who to trust. Soon though Odile must decide – her mission or the girl she’s falling for?

"Power comes with a price, but it also comes with promise."

A.B. Poranek's A Treachery of Swans is a sapphic YA retelling of Swan Lake, a fanciful murder mystery with a gothic feel. I would have been obsessed with this as a young girl, but the writing and intended audience is a bit juvenile. Still, it's a compelling journey for an adult reader. Narrated entirely from the point of view of Odile, foil and antagonist from the ballet, this novel gives her some much needed depth and gives a fresh new perspective to Tchaikovsky's story, using bits and pieces from the many versions of the ballet. The author has done their research, and it shows, but the story doesn't match completely the tragic vibes of the ballet.

In a world where golden-blooded people are shunned for their affinity with a magic whose misuse has thrown the kingdom into chaos, Odile does everything her father tells her in order to restore magic and thus find her own place. A witty actress and a vicious thief, Odile once struck a friendship with her mark Marie d'Odette, and it's her now that she has to impersonate to deceive and marry the prince, but she finds herself drawn into a conspiracy where nothing is as it seems at first. Her relationship with Odette, who appears rarely in the first half of the novel, grows from the roots of what they once were for each other, from a moment that still fills Odile with shame. Their slow-burn romance is sweet. In a book where everyone just aches to belong, Odette is her perfect counterpart, warm and kind and wounded, but also made of steel. The character work in this is superb, especially Odile's slow realization of her own worth and her reckoning with an abusive parental figure.

The decision to have a French-inspired court and terms works, lending to the dreamy, soft atmosphere, reading like a court tale from Seventeenth Century France. There's a hint of the Phantom of the Opera, too, in the lake and the masked villain - which also comes from Tchaikovsky, of course, as the imagery of the owl. The fantasy aspects blend well, weaving a tale of revenge, magic, and a journey of self-acceptance. The explosive ending is followed by an abrupt epilogue that is still enough athmospheric to work, but it takes away a bit of the brilliance.

The supporting cast does the work. Odile's father, of course, is a grandiose antagonist, while the Dauphin gets some more depth too, adding to the bare bones of Tchaikovsky's Prince Siegfried. There's also a hint of an achillean relationship, which adds to the tension somewhat, but it's woefully underdeveloped. Odile's brother is a welcome addition.

A Treachery of Swans is the Swan Lake sapphic retelling I've been waiting for two decades.

✨ 4 stars

 

😈👩🏻 So you want to read a sapphic villain retelling?

Here's my review of Heather Walter's Misrule  

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

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

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

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: Sargassa, by Sophie Burnham

Selah Kleios is twenty-two years old and suddenly one of the most important women in the empires. The role of Imperial Historian is her birthright, something she’s been preparing for since birth—but she was supposed to have more time to learn the role from her father, the previous Historian. In the wake of her father’s sudden and shocking assassination, Selah finds herself custodian of more than just the Imperial Archives, the towering central library that safeguards all collective knowledge of the Roman Imperium and its client empires. There’s also the question of the two puzzling classified items her father left in her care—an ancient atlas filled with landscapes that don’t exist, and a carved piece of stone that seems to do nothing at all.
Soon, though, it becomes clear that the Iveroa Stone is more than just a slab of rock. With the reappearance of an old lost love who’s been blackmailed into stealing it for an unknown entity, Selah finds herself in a race to uncover the mysteries the Stone holds. But she isn’t the only one with an interest in it—she’ll have to contend with the deputy chief of police, an undercover spy, and her own beloved half brother along the way. What begins as an act of atonement and devotion ultimately pulls her into the crosshairs of deep state conspiracy, the stirrings of an underground independence movement, and questions that threaten to shake the foundational legitimacy of Roma Sargassa’s past, present, and future.

"She will always choose change."

Sophie Burnham's Sargassa is an incredible alt-history novel, set in a world where the Roman Empire never fell and injustice runs rampant. When Selah's father dies, she has to fill his shoes pretty quickly and take his place as Historian, a hereditary job that's meant to be like a custodian of ancient knowledge. But the world she has to move in, a world where indentured servitude was never stopped, forces her to come to terms with some very harsh truths.

This is a multi-POV epic that also follows her slave-adjacent half-brother, a nonbinary rebel, a righteous cop, and an idealistic thief. Their characters meet and play off of each other beautifully, even the racist misogynist of a cop who's tragically in the wrong place at the wrong time. The luring corruption of the city functions as a backdrop to this delightful mystery as a millennia-old lie unfurls into the light and battle-lines are drawn.

The setting is perfect, with fantastic pieces of worldbuilding, little things you can really trace to the actual Roman Empire. At the end of the book is a helpful compendium explaining how this colony came to be, and the revelations only enrich the experience. You get the sense, early on, that not everything is as it seems, and it's fun to follow the clues clearly left for the reader.

Between the themes of systemic violence and slavery, there wouldn't seem to be much time for love stories, but two delicate queer romances unfold organically, following the course of the novel to its incredible conclusion. In particular, the sapphic love story featuring Selah has the strongest foundation, and a strong development.

Sargassa is the fantastic first book of a series that promises to be explosive.

✨ 4.5 stars

Snippet: The Brides of High Hill, by Nghi Vo

The Cleric Chih accompanies a beautiful young bride to her wedding to the aging ruler of a crumbling estate situated at the crossroads of dead empires. The bride's party is welcomed with elaborate courtesies and extravagant banquets, but between the frightened servants and the cryptic warnings of the lord's mad son, they quickly realize that something is haunting the shadowed halls.
As Chih and the bride-to-be explore empty rooms and desolate courtyards, they are drawn into the mystery of what became of Lord Guo's previous wives and the dark history of Do Cao itself. But as the wedding night draws to its close, Chih will learn at their peril that not all monsters are to be found in the shadows; some monsters hide in plain sight.

“Fear serves, when nothing else is left.”

Nghi Vo's The Brides of High Hill is another great installment in the Singing Hill Cycle, a story about the many faces monsters can wear, about lies and deception. It becomes clear very quickly that this is a version of Bluebeard, but then the story takes an abrupt turn, careening towards a plot twist that leaves you reeling. The ending was a bit rushed for my taste, making this installment a bit weaker than the other books in the series, but it's still an incredible story, and Vo's prose is excellent as always. This is also the first novella when Cleric Chih seems to be attracted to someone.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: The Fireborne Blade, by Charlotte Bond

Maddileh is a knight. There aren’t many women in her line of work, and it often feels like the sneering and contempt from her peers is harder to stomach than the actual dragon slaying. But she’s a knight, and made of sterner stuff.
A minor infraction forces her to redeem her honor in the most dramatic way possible, she must retrieve the fabled Fireborne Blade from its keeper, legendary dragon the White Lady, or die trying. If history tells us anything, it's that “die trying” is where to wager your coin.

"What will be written about us by those who come after?"

Charlotte Bond's The Fireborne Blade is a fantasy novella about a bisexual knight who's dealing with mysoginy in her line of work, and pursuing a dragon. The narration in this sense is very straightforward, with a classic story about dragon-hunting. This novella excels in creating interesting lore for dragons while maintaning a haunting atmosphere, but the tension is broken by the chapters set in the past and by chapters detailing dragon-hunting and other knights' dealings.

The novella builds up a plot twist organically, but stumbles when it comes to the actual delivery, and the final part feels rushed. The ending is invigorating, though, and the interest for the second and final novella in the series gets certainly piqued. Meanwhile, the queer aspect is more of an undercurrent, although one certainly picks up a certain tension between the knight and the sorceress-in-training fighting against mysoginy in her own field.

The Fireborne Blade is a packed adventure.

✨ 3.5 stars