Review: Born of Scourge, by S. Jean

Legends say when the skies grow dark and scourge starves the land, a star will fall in order to save humanity. Only when the star is sacrificed at the end of their journey will light return. It's a cycle—one humanity refuses to break because stars are plentiful and their sacrifices easier than learning the true nature of the scourge. When Sol finally falls, it's not because of humanity. It's because he's had enough of watching his brethren be sacrificed. He has one goal: end humanity and end the cycle.
Unfortunately, he has to pretend he cares before humans get wise. It doesn't matter how soft the princess who catches him is—Celena will be dead by the time his journey ends. Nor how kind his assigned companions are—the outgoing Mira with her ballads, the brave Nebora with her axe, and the hero Loren with his soft voice and friendly smile. For centuries, humanity has lied and their kindness is a ruse to bring about Sol's own destruction at the end of his tale. He will not be fooled.

"Humanity never learned." 

S. Jean's Born of Scourge is an achillean novella that starts out cozy but ends up grandly developing themes of predestination versus free will, turning dark in some ways but still filled with so much hope. The simple storytelling works well with what is for all intents and purposes a fairytale, but some characters are extremely one-dimensional and it can be difficult to connect with them. The main character is of course exempt, and he undergoes a real hero journey over the course of the book, learning about humans and having touching friendships. His sweet love story with Loren develops organically, taking the story towards a satisfying end.

The worldbuilding is complex and interesting; the concept of an incarnated star has been explored before, but it's rare enough to feel fresh, and the background tied to the inner workings of the world is unique. How that is developed in certain sections of the book feels a bit like a D&D campaign, but it stands well enough on its own.

Born of Scourge is a sweet parable.

✨ 3.5 stars

 

 

 

Review: Metal from Heaven, by August Clarke

Ichorite is progress. More durable and malleable than steel, ichorite is the lifeblood of a dawning industrial revolution. Yann I. Chauncey owns the sole means of manufacturing this valuable metal, but his workers are on strike. They demand Chauncey research the hallucinatory illness befalling them. Marney Honeycutt, a lustertouched child worker, stands proud at the picket line with her best friend and family. That’s when Chauncey sends in the guns. Only Marney survives the massacre. She vows bloody vengeance.
A decade later, Marney is the nation’s most notorious highwayman, and Chauncey’s daughter seeks an opportune marriage. Marney’s rage and the ghosts of her past will drive her to masquerade as an aristocrat, outmaneuver powerful suitors, and win the heart of his daughter, so Marney can finally corner Chauncey and satisfy her need for revenge. But war ferments in the north, and deeper grudges are surfacing.

"Unalone toward dawn we go."

August Clarke's Metal from Heaven is a genre-bending sapphic epic that defies expectation with its bold use of second person narration, a prose that feels like wading through molasses, and a rich, tight worldbuilding. It deftly explores issues of class struggle and anti-capitalism and what price we are willing to pay to have a revolution.

This is absolutely not a love story but a tragedy, and yet it brims with hope and with a visceral sensuality and with longing devotion that borders on feverish obsession, as main character Marney makes a martyred beacon of her dead best friend. This is also absolutely a novel about butch culture, and the all-female cast is a glorious exploration of masculinity and femininity and all the flavors-in-between, and the intersection of class and queerness, with a very clever distinction between working-class and noble lesbians. Marney is unapologetic in her desires, and pursues many women, although only one has her bleeding heart.

The worldbuilding is rich and complex and almost incomprehensible at times, with a great number of places and cultures and complicated politics governing their alliances, and to complicate matters further, many religions. The crux of the matter, the conflict at the heart of the novel, is the usage and mining conditions of a magical metal that causes unnatural consequences on child laborers and creates a condition of chronic illness on many such children, Marney included; this allows the author to also make a vivid depiction of chronic illness, something that is rare enough in speculative fiction.

The prose is a glorious fever dream of ambitious narrative choices, featuring nonlinear storytelling and long paragraphs that lovingly describe women and hallucinations and sex, and a dizzying muddling of I and you and we. It's also hysterically funny at the most unexpected times.

Metal from Heaven is a modern masterpiece.

✨ 5 stars

 

 

Snippet: Finding Echoes, by Foz Meadows

Snow Kidama speaks to ghosts amongst the local gangs of Charybdis Precinct, isolated from the rest of New Arcadia by the city’s ancient walls. But when his old lover, Gem—a man he thought dead—shows up in need of his services, Snow is forced to reevaluate everything. Snow and Gem must navigate not only a city on the edge of collapse, but also their feelings for each other.

“Some plants thrive best when fed on blood and bone, and perhaps change is too.”

Foz Meadows' Finding Echoes is a perfectly self-contained novella, with complex worldbuilding and top-notch characterization developing over the course of a very short story. It explores with a deft hand themes of oppression and addiction, while also finding time for a bit of queer romance. Told in first person POV, this packed novella follows a lonely and wounded figure as he reckons with his past and with a threat to society, while navigating his power of being able to talk to the dead and confronting the gut-punch of a sudden revelation. I got the feeling that this might become a series of standalone novellas, not necessarily about the same characters.

✨ 4 stars

 

👥🦴 So you want to read about achillean men who speak with the dead?

Check out my reviews of Katherine Addison's novels! 

Snippet: The Bloodless Princes, by Charlotte Bond

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

“Justice is like iron.”

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

✨ 3.5 stars

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

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

"Hatred was the fear people let themselves enjoy."

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

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

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

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

✨ 4 stars

Review: Mal, by Perla Zul

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

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

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

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

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

Mal is a delightful retelling.

✨ 4 stars

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

Snippet: Until the Last Petal Falls, by Viano Oniomoh

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

“Choose to live.”

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

✨ 3 stars

Review: Time's Agent, by Brenda Peynado

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

"Without time, everything is beautiful."

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

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

Time's Agent is a small gem.

✨ 4 stars

Review: Legend of the White Snake, by Sher Lee

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

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

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

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

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

Legend of the White Snake is a lovely read.

✨ 3.5 stars

Snippet: When Among Crows, by Veronica Roth

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

“Magic is crooked, and so are we.”

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

✨ 4.5 stars

Review: Lucy Undying, by Kiersten White

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucy Undying is a sumptuous retelling.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Lost Story, by Meg Shaffer

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Lost Story is a wondrous tale.

✨ 4 stars

Review: Peregrine Seas, by R.C. Ballad

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

"The art of negotation."

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

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

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

Peregrine Seas is perfect for a relaxing read.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: The Last Hour Between Worlds, by Melissa Caruso

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✨ 4.5 stars

Snippet: The Wizard and the Welshman, by Laura Rayndrop

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

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

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

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: Countess, by Suzan Palumbo

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

"Success or perish."

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

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

Countess is an ambitious experiment.

✨ 3.5 stars

Review: Don't Let the Forest In, by C.G. Drews

High school senior Andrew Perrault finds refuge in the twisted fairytales that he writes for the only person who can ground him to reality—Thomas Rye, the boy with perpetually ink-stained hands and hair like autumn leaves. And with his twin sister, Dove, inexplicably keeping him at a cold distance upon their return to Wickwood Academy, Andrew finds himself leaning on his friend even more.
But something strange is going on with Thomas. His abusive parents have mysteriously vanished, and he arrives at school with blood on his sleeve. Thomas won’t say a word about it, and shuts down whenever Andrew tries to ask him questions. Stranger still, Thomas is haunted by something, and he seems to have lost interest in his artwork—whimsically macabre sketches of the monsters from Andrew’s wicked stories.

"We let our love for each other cut us to the bloody core."

C.G. Drews' Don't let the Forest In is an excellent YA horror story about loneliness, grief, and rage. The only POV, an asexual boy struggling with bullies and with his growing feelings for his roomate, has to face a sudden supernatural threat that might have even come from himself. His codependent relationship with his roomate, an angry boy abused by his parents, and the similarly codependent relationship with his twin sister, the only one who believes in him, are explored beautifully, creating a tangle of emotions and a marvelous exploration of asexuality.

Growing parallel to this is the exploration of the bone-chilling threat coming to their isolated prestigious school, turning the surrounding forest into a place of untold horrors. The body horror imagery is quite strong, and so is the constant sense of something being utterly wrong. Things come to a head in the moving finale, where the readers realize all the pieces were there all along for them to fix the puzzle. I'm not ashamed to say I didn't figure out the twist until it was spelled out, but it was exhilarating to return to the previous pages and find the clues in plain sight.

More enterprising readers might figure it out sooner, but it shouldn't take from the overall enjoyment of this little gem. At its core, it's a story about the extent of what we would do for the people we love, and whether that's even right or wrong. The answer isn't so simple.

The prose is exquisite, very lyrical and also explicit in its horrific descriptions. The novel features illustrations and short fairy tales that are the very same that are described in the book, as the main characters are respectively an artist and a writer, and the role of their works is quite interactive.

Don't let the Forest In is a quiet marvel.

✨ 4 stars

Review: The Lotus Empire, by Tasha Suri

Malini has claimed her rightful throne as the empress of Parijatdvipa, just as the nameless gods prophesied. Now, in order to gain the support of the priesthood who remain loyal to the fallen emperor, she must consider a terrible Claim her throne and burn in order to seal her legacy—or find another willing to take her place on the pyre. Priya has survived the deathless waters and now their magic runs in her veins. But a mysterious yaksa with flowering eyes and a mouth of thorns lies beneath the waters. The yaksa promises protection for Ahiranya. But in exchange, she needs a sacrifice. And she's chosen Priya as the one to offer it.
Two women once entwined by fate now stand against each other. But when an ancient enemy rises to threaten their world, Priya and Malini will find themselves fighting together once more – to prevent their kingdoms, and their futures, from burning to ash.

"To swim through rage and grief and rise, alive, on the other side."

Tasha Suri's The Lotus Empire is the heart-wrenching conclusion to the spectacular Burning Kingdoms trilogy, expertly weaving a tale of loss, solitude, revenge, and grief. No thread is left unacknowledged, everything accounted for, in this tragedy about love and duty and sacrifice, a masterful story with a bittersweet ending.

We begin as the last book ended, with our lovers separated by war and a bitter betrayal, but still aching for one another, on the edge between love and hate. Malini has to navigate her Court while waging a war against the supernatural threat of the Yaksa and attempting to survive the fanatical clergy calling for her burning; Priya has to contend with the monsters wearing loved ones’ faces, and with the great empire bent on destroying and assimilating her people. Still in dreams they return to each other, their bond too strong and, perhaps, the key to the end of the war.

Amidst the odd POV characters, the POVs of Bhumika and Rao shine with their journeys, to self-love and peace respectively, as they face the circumstances that left them reeling in the previous book. Both of their storylines reach satisfying conclusions.

The worldbuilding expands to new neighboring kingdoms, new people, and an exploration of the Yaksa and of the goddesses of Malini's people. Not every question is answered, and there's a sense of unfinished business, but the powerful moments leading to the end more than make up for it.

The Lotus Empire is the stunning conclusion to a great trilogy.

✨ 5 stars

Review: The Shabti, by Megaera C. Lorenz

Can you flimflam a ghost? It’s 1934. Former medium Dashiel Quicke travels the country debunking spiritualism and false mediums while struggling to stay ahead of his ex-business partner and lover who wants him back at any cost. During a demonstration at a college campus, Dashiel meets Hermann Goschalk, an Egyptologist who’s convinced that he has a genuine haunted artifact on his hands. Certain there is a rational explanation for whatever is going on with Hermann’s relics, Dashiel would rather skip town, but soon finds himself falling for Hermann. He agrees to take a look after all and learns that something is haunting Hermann’s office indeed. Faced with a real ghost Dashiel is terrified, but when the haunting takes a dangerous turn, he must use the tools of the shady trade he left behind to communicate with this otherworldly spirit before his past closes in.

"Are you actually suggesting that we try to flim-flam a ghost?"

Megaera C. Lorenz's The Shabti is an atmospheric ghost story set in the Thirties, featuring two protagonists in their forties while they try to solve a mystery and they helplessly fall in love. The only POV, a former swindler with a conscience, gets increasingly attached to an impossibly kind Egyptologist plagued by an infestation problem, and the resulting closed door romance is a sweet affair that warms the heart.

The supernatural threat stems from a possessed figurine, the eponymous shabti, and dealing with it results in very suggestive pages, especially during the scenes set in dark places. Another far more human threat comes from Dashiel's jilted lover and former associate, grounding the narration when needed.

The attention to detail shown in the descriptions of Egyptology of the time, also shows in the usage of appropriate language for that time period, featuring old-timey turns of phrase that make the reading experience a delight. The author also takes their time exploring the world of fake spiritualism with a firm hand, but the chaotic ending doesn't really stick the landing.

The Shabti is a fun adventure for ghost story lovers.

✨ 3.5 stars