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

Review: The Phoenix Keeper, by S.A. MacLean

As head phoenix keeper at a world-renowned zoo for magical creatures, Aila's childhood dream of conserving critically endangered firebirds seems closer than ever. There's just one glaring caveat: her zoo's breeding program hasn't functioned for a decade. When a tragic phoenix heist sabotages the flagship initiative at a neighbouring zoo, Aila must prove her derelict facilities are fit to take the reins. But saving an entire species from extinction requires more than stellar animal handling skills. Carnivorous water horses, tempestuous thunderhawks, mischievous dragons... Aila has no problem wrangling beasts. Inspiring zoo patrons? That's another story. Mustering the courage to ask for help from the hotshot griffin keeper at the zoo's most popular exhibit? Virtually impossible.
Especially when the hotshot griffin keeper in question just so happens to be her arch-rival from college: Luciana, an annoyingly brooding and even more annoyingly insufferable know-it-all with the grace of a goblin and the face of a goddess who's convinced that Aila's beloved phoenix would serve their cause better as an active performer rather than as a passive conservation exhibit.

"Let her prove she could be worth something."

S.A. MacLean's The Phoenix Keeper is a cozy fantasy novel about bisexual zoekeeper Aila and her struggle with anxiety and with the zoo program that's trying to save a Phoenix species from extinction. It's a low-stakes story, sweet and slow-paced, taking its time to describe the daily life at the zoo and the steps taken to bring the program back to life, while chronicling her journey to become a more functional person. It's marketed as a sapphic romantasy, but while the romance is lovely, it's not focussed on and it's more of a subplot.

The tension between Aila and her love interest crackles as Aila has to first navigate a blooming relationship with another zookeeper, a man who on the surface looks perfect for her. But looks can be deceiving, and when Aila lets herself see people for who they truly are, she might reach a different conclusion than she thought.

Throughout the book, she's helped by her best friend, whose friendship has to overcome a few hurdles. Aila is a self-centered protagonist, trapped inside her anxiety that makes her not quite so insightful, but as she slowly comes out of her shell, she becomes more mindful. Her love interest is a more well-rounded character than her, showing hidden depths behind a cool demeanor.

The worldbuilding isn't too elaborate, but it works. The world looks mostly like our own, with the notable exception of magical fauna that's preserved in zoos. The book excels in describing these habitats and enclosures with a lush and colorful prose, showing a zookeper's life with the joy and enthusiasm of a child's visit, building on that nostalgia to really pluck at the heartstrings.

The Phoenix Keeper is a quiet story of self-realization.

✨ 3.5 stars

Snippet: Under the Dragon Moon, by Mawce Hanlin

Mael Nguyen doesn’t believe in fate, but he does believe in magic. His entire life revolves around the study of the arcane—spells and rituals, potions and illusions. As far as Mael is concerned, all he needs is a book in one hand and magic in the other. Anything outside of his bookshop, hidden away in the streets of New Orleans, isn’t worth his attention. But when a strange human stumbles into his life and hires him for a job, bringing along his blinding smile and curious magic, Mael finds that Fate is just as dangerous as Magic.
Leo Greyson refuses to believe in fate, but he desperately wishes to believe in magic. As a small time rockstar, full time radio host, Leo has never been one to shy away from experience and adventure. He’s always lived his life on the edge—always moving, never standing still. But when his twin sister is murdered, and he gains custody of her strangely magical daughter, that constant motion comes to a screeching halt. Instead, he is launched into an entirely new world hidden right beneath his nose, and Leo finds himself wondering if Fate really does exist, and if she’s led him right where he needs to be.

“He kissed like a hurricane.”

Mawce Hanlin's Under the Dragon Moon is a sweet romantasy with great character work and a mysterious background plot that promises to take center stage in the next installments of the series. In this first book the focus is on a magical mystery and on the establishment of the main characters’ relationship, motivations, past, and their relationship with friends and family, other than laying the foundation of a pretty complex worldbuilding, with sidhe, Courts, pacts, dragons, and a magic that builds on magical patrons. The politics and lore of this scintillating debut of an urban fantasy are pretty layered, and the prose is fantastic: lyrical at times, at times funny, always very respectful of the many triggering aspects, and littered with references to pop culture. There are quite a few explicit sex scenes.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Lowest Healer and the Highest Mage, by Hiyodori

In a country where mages have all the power and healers supposedly only exist to support them, Clematis—a talented healer—is despised for her past attempts to defy the mageocracy. In her early thirties, she’s already on year seven of a life sentence for treason. But when the most powerful mage in the nation suddenly loses all her magic, the government wants unconventional Clematis to help get it back.
The mage is a tall, distant woman called Wist, and Clematis knows her all too well. They used to be classmates. Best friends. Perhaps more. Wist is also the person who reported Clematis for leaking state secrets. She’s the reason Clematis spent the last seven years in prison. Clematis wants revenge for her betrayal, but she wants freedom even more. She’s got thirty days to recover Wist’s magic: miss the deadline, and she’ll be shunted back to prison for the rest of her life. Yet attempting to resurrect Wist’s lost magic will force her to face the real reason why Wist betrayed her—and to face her unresolved, unspoken feelings for the mage who stabbed her in the back and walked away.

"I never forgot the sound of you calling for me. Not for a second."

Hiyodori's The Lowest Healer and the Highest Mage is a sci-fi/fantasy hybrid that combines a compelling protagonist and sole POV character with a surprising plot that keeps you on your toes as it slowly unveils the background of the characters and their history. Clematis and Wist navigate the consequences of an old betrayal that put them at odds with each other, while trying to solve a problem that might prove to be fatal for their world.

Clematis is a delight, caustic and angry and incredibly competent. Her old friend Wist is remote and mysterious and she has secrets which will change everything Clematis thinks she knows. Their relationship, in the present and the snippets of the past, is a compelling one, and so is the way they learn to trust each other again. The supporting cast does its job, with two very fleshed-out and interesting characters in the form of a friend Clematis made more recently, and a Healer that Wist trusts to treat her.

The snippets of world-building paint a vivid picture, albeit a fragmented one, that I hope to see explored more in the other books of the series. The contrast and politics of the usage and abuse of magic, with Healers as glorified batteries for Mages that, at least in the nation where the characters live, have no system in place to check their treatment of Healers, makes for an interesting conflict.

The Lowest Healer and the Highest Mage is a captivating novella.

✨ 4 stars

Snippet: Empire of the Feast, by Bendi Barrett

We awaken with Riverson, 32nd ruler of the Stag Empire, as he attempts to govern without the memories of his previous lives. To survive the ever-sharpening gears of war, he will need to mend the political schisms threatening to tear his empire apart while maintaining the erotic rituals holding off the eldritch horror known only as the Rapacious.

“We will eat the stars and drench the darkness in ecstasy.”

Bendi Berrett's Empire of the Feast is a sci-fi novella with a touch of magic, compact and luxurious. In less than a hundred pages, the author paints the delicate balance of an intergalactic empire held together against an eldritch foe only thanks to the power surges created by a never-ending orgy. Despite the particular subject, the book isn't too explicit, and follows the efforts of the newly resurrected Emperor attempting to regain his footing and stop a coup, having been brought back memoryless and with a different gender. This delightfully queer page-turner of a novella packs a complex journey that resolves in less than a day; it only stumbles in the Epilogue, where it tries to tie too neat a bow to the detriment of a perfect roller-coaster.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Bedlam Stacks, by Natasha Pulley

In 1859, ex–East India Company smuggler Merrick Tremayne is trapped at home in Cornwall with an injury that almost cost him his leg. When the India Office recruits him for an expedition to fetch quinine--essential for the treatment of malaria--from deep within Peru, he knows it's a terrible idea; nearly every able-bodied expeditionary who's made the attempt has died, and he can barely walk. But Merrick is eager to escape the strange events plaguing his family's crumbling estate, so he sets off, against his better judgment, for the edge of the Amazon.
There he meets Raphael, a priest around whom the villagers spin unsettling stories of impossible disappearances, cursed woods, and living stone. Merrick must separate truth from fairy tale, and gradually he realizes that Raphael is the key to a legacy left by generations of Tremayne explorers before him, one which will prove more valuable than quinine, and far more dangerous.

"He wasn't crude work but the ruin of something fine."

Natasha Pulley's The Bedlam Stacks is an atmospheric story set in Chile and filled with magical realism, full of wonder. We follow Merrick, a disabled character, as he has to join an expedition he would have rather abandoned because of his new disability. In the liminal space of a town his grandfather used to visit once, he will find Raphael, a mysterious man who seems to be ailed by a strange condition.

The prose as always with Pulley, was spectacular, so very simple and yet complex and magical. It's a slow reveal of a novel, a quiet treasure that one should savor. The magical elements come together slowly, revealing the magic behind the ordinary and beyond the objective European mind, unveiling a wholly different way of thinking.

I appreciated how Merrick was written, exploring his disability and his struggles in a very believable way, and I loved what we got to see of Raphael. Their feelings are never made explicit, but this is undoubtedly a love story, one that has a bittersweet ending. Like other Pulley characters, they are flawed and sometimes nasty, but always so very human. And fans of the Watchmaker of Filigree Street will find an incredible cameo and appreciate even more a beloved character.

The magical realism aspects were very intriguing, especially once the veil is lifted and things are revealed to be much more than they seem at first glance. The other characters feel a bit empty, with only the physician having a little depth.

The Bedlam Stacks is a quiet marvel.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Emperor and the Endless Palace, by Justinian Huang

In the year 4 BCE, an ambitious courtier is called upon to seduce the young emperor—but quickly discovers they are both ruled by blood, sex and intrigue. In 1740, a lonely innkeeper agrees to help a mysterious visitor procure a rare medicine, only to unleash an otherworldly terror instead. And in present-day Los Angeles, a college student meets a beautiful stranger and cannot shake the feeling they’ve met before.
Across these seemingly unrelated timelines woven together only by the twists and turns of fate, two men are reborn, lifetime after lifetime. Within the treacherous walls of an ancient palace and the boundless forests of the Asian wilderness to the heart-pounding cement floors of underground rave scenes, our lovers are inexplicably drawn to each other, constantly tested by the worlds around them. As their many lives intertwine, they begin to realize the power of their undying love—a power that transcends time itself…but one that might consume them both.

"Just because something is true, doesn't mean it is good."

Justinian Huang's The Emperor and the Endless Palace is inexplicably marketed as a romantasy, but it's more than that and it's not that at all. It is romantic, in the truest sense of the word, but it's not a romance: it's a story about love and lust, obsession and revenge. We follow three apparently unrelated storylines, ranging from the distant past in Imperial China to the present, but realize very quickly how these storylines are related. One could say that it's obvious, since it's right there on the blurb, but the way the story is told makes the beauty of it, and it surprises with a few well-placed twists that stun and confound and yet, seem inevitable.

Everything moves like clockwork, every lingering question is answered. The author paints with deft strokes the life at Court of an ambitious clerk, the life of a restless innkeeper in the woods, the life of a present-day gay man coming to terms with his orientation; and the characters breathe to life, with all their contradictions. The reveal of the tangled web of lust and love, of the way the circle of reincarnation drives the characters' lives, is done beautifully.

The prose really is incredible. The narration is vivid, and quite explicit, with unforgettable imagery. There are quite a few sex scenes, and each is described with metaphors suited to the time, which I found very clever. There's quite a few quotes from ancient poetry, and the author seamlessly works in folk tales and real history to make a grand tale of unbridled passions and toxic behavior.

The story presents some triggering scenes of sexual assault.

The Emperor and the Endless Palace is a gorgeous cautionary tale.

✨ 5 stars

Review: The Watchmaker of Filigree Street, by Natasha Pulley

1883. Thaniel Steepleton returns home to his tiny London apartment to find a gold pocket watch on his pillow. Six months later, the mysterious timepiece saves his life, drawing him away from a blast that destroys Scotland Yard. At last, he goes in search of its maker, Keita Mori, a kind, lonely immigrant from Japan. Although Mori seems harmless, a chain of unexplainable events soon suggests he must be hiding something. When Grace Carrow, an Oxford physicist, unwittingly interferes, Thaniel is torn between opposing loyalties.

"Being solitary isn't a disease that needs a cure".

Natasha Pulley's The Watchmaker of Filigree Street is a delightful debut. I'm slowly but surely reading every book by this author and bemoaning the fact that she slipped under my radar for so long. This book is a breath of fresh air, a whimsical historical novel with touches of magical realism and a fantastic cast. The author isn't afraid to write complex characters, people of dubious morality, even unlikable.

The main narrator, Thaniel, is thrown into a mystery; in the course of trying to solve it, he finds the elusive watchmaker who could be more sinister than one sees at first glance. Thaniel is fascinated, and strikes up a deep friendship that might evolve into something more, with striking moments of tenderness and references to the homophobic laws of the time. Thaniel is fiercely loyal, and his synesthesia makes for a lovely excuse to really delve into some gorgeous prose, while also being a plot point that helps him.

The watchmaker Mori, as we get to know him, especially thanks to a few flashbacks to his past (never through his eyes, always through someone else's POV) is an intriguing figure that slowly reveals itself, and still at the end of the novel we're left with so many questions about him.His gift is terrifying, not only for those around him (and I had to understand the female character's fears, Grace with her scientific mind, trapped in the role the times force her to take if she wants to still follow her studies), but also for himself, as it makes him remember and forget to a frightening degree.

The glimpses of history, the focus on Japan, and the mechanical wonders created by Mori, made for a gorgeous story. The resolution was a bit rushed, especially a chapter that explained things going on behind the scenes, and the aether seems more of a gimmick than a plot point, but the mystery was solved like clockwork.

The Watchmaker of Filigree Street is a quiet marvel.

✨ 4 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* A Marvellous Light, by Freya Marske

for: visions, magical England

Review: The Knowing, by Emma Hinds

Whilst working as a living canvas for an abusive tattoo artist, Flora meets Minnie, an enigmatic circus performer who offers her love and refuge in an opulent townhouse, home to the menacing Mr Chester Merton. Flora earns her keep reading tarot cards for his guests whilst struggling to harness her gift, the Knowing - an ability to summon the dead. Caught in a dark love triangle between Minnie and Chester, Flora begins to unravel the secrets inside their house. Then at her first public séance, Flora hears the spirit of a murdered boy prostitute and exposes his killer, setting off a train of events which put her life at risk.

"We are all ghosts".

Emma Hinds' The Knowing is a dark atmospheric piece about abuse and recovery, with a number of chilling scenes. The true horror, as in the best books, comes not from the supernatural elements (Flora has the ability to see and be possessed by ghosts) but from the abuse and harsh threatment of women during the Nineteenth Century.

This book doesn't hold its punches, tackling dark themes like incest, rape, forced abortion, and pedophilia. Flora was taken in by an abusive man when she was very young, and so was Minnie, a past circus performer with dwarfism. The two of them are quickly drawn to each other, but their own relationship isn't devoid of red flags. The so-called "love triangle" in the blurb is less that and more of an "abuse triangle", with Flora and Minnie seeking comfort in each other. The complex tangled web of their intersecting lives makes for a poignant reflection on abuse and the lies we tell ourselves in order to survive.

The supernatural part is handled well and it's appropriately harrowing, with ghosts that are victims of violent crimes and bent on revenge. I appreciated the focus on the card reading, another facet of Flora's Knowing, one she can teach others as well; her healing seems to settle in one such scene.

With this kind of setting I wasn't certainly expecting an HEA ending, but while a sudden tragedy strikes in the second half of the book, things end up looking up, in a way.

The Knowing is a gritty debut.

✨ 3.5 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* Wild and Wicked Things, by Francesca May

for: flawed characters, abuse

Review: Every Exquisite Thing, by Laura Steven

Penny Paxton is the daughter of an icon. Her supermodel mother has legions of adoring fans around the world, and Penny is ready to begin her journey to international adoration, starting with joining the elite Dorian Drama School. When Penny’s new mentor offers her an opportunity she cannot refuse, to have a portrait painted by a mysterious artist who can grant immortal beauty to all his subjects, Penny happily follows in the footsteps of Dorian’s most glittering alumni, knowing that stardom is sure to soon be hers. But when her trusted mentor is found murdered, Penny realises she’s made a terrible mistake – a sinister someone is using the uncanny portraits to kill off the subjects one by one. As more perfectly beautiful students start to fall, Penny knows her time is running out . . . A seductive and searing exploration of beauty, identity, and what the pursuit of perfection can truly cost.

"Girls don't want beauty. Girls want power. And sometimes beauty is the closest substitute".

Laura Steven's Every Exquisite Thing is a YA feminist and sapphic retelling of The Portrait of Dorian Gray, with elements from the classic being woven in an interesting way. Without getting too much into spoiler territory, the link isn't as tenuous as one may think at first. The book comes with a much appreciated note at the beginning, detailing the book's trigger warnings.

The narration in first person serves the novel well, highlighting the main character's growing unease with the very real threat to her life and with the supernatural happenings around her. We get to feel her helplessness and see her struggle with anorexia in a way that is disconcerting and unnerving.

The book delves deep into the themes of beauty, control, and identity, aided by a prose that is stunning in its simplicity. The execution is lacking in some parts, especially in the second half, but the book makes up for it with its heart; perhaps the revelations towards the end might have been foreshadowed better.

Queer longing permeates the pages, with the tension between the two leads coming to an end in a frenzied scene that works all the better because the ending softens the edges and makes this novel a very real journey of self-discovery that can only end with healing. But while the main trio, and the relationship they shared, is well-developed, the other two recurring characters in Penny's set of friends end up being criminally underdeveloped. The adults, on the other hand, are written better, especially the tragic figure of Penny's mother.

Every Exquisite Thing is a book that helps young women.

✨ 4 stars

📚📚📚 IF YOU LOVE THIS, YOU MIGHT LIKE:

* I Feed Her to the Beast and the Beast Is Me, by Jamison Shea

for: deals, sacrifice