Horror has historically been a rocky genre for me. I feel like I always go in with such lofty expectations—excitement! creepiness! immersion!—and yet, what I get is hardly ever that. I find myself, more often than not, yawning my way through it, and so here we are again.

I can't fault the premise. A ghost ship floating around for two decades with hundreds of souls on board, all of them dead, and no one could find this ship until now? For a space-loving gal like me, you might as well be waving catnip (spacenip?) in my face. But alas, the premise was pretty much the highlight of the whole thing, and it didn't really get better from there.

If I had to put my finger on the biggest issue here, it would have to be its overreliance on being inside the main character's head and using her ruminations and indecision and paranoia as a way to drive the story forward. Ah, you're thinking to yourself, but isn't that what domestic thrillers do? And you'd be right, except not only is this not supposed to be a domestic thriller, but I'm not a fan of that genre for the same reasons.

So I was forced to endure what I would've thought twice about picking up, had I known what it was going in. And the more time we spent in Claire's head as she waffled back and forth, second-guessing herself, reliving over and over the trauma of her childhood, the less appealing I found her. There's something about spending paragraphs and pages in her head that just made my eyes glaze over and my neck droop.

You add to that all the time spent with the crew arguing back and forth on what to do, the detailed descriptions of the spaceship they found, and their careful searching of every room on that ship, and you might as well have shot me with a tranquilizer dart. I frequently caught myself nodding off, only to rouse again to check how far into the book I was, convinced I'd almost reached the end, then being dumbfounded at the realization that I somehow wasn't even halfway in.

Also, call me crazy, but I'm a firm believer that not every story has to have a romantic subplot, and this book is the perfect example of that. The attraction between Claire and Kane was distracting and quite frankly baffling. Because what could he possibly see in her as she freaks out and waffles about? And so the precious few brain cycles I should've been using to think about the mystery surrounding the spaceship was instead being commandeered into puzzling over what's going on with these two nutters.

Between all the shenanigans in Claire's head and the equally silly shenanigans between Claire and Kane, by the time we finally get to the unraveling of the spaceship mystery, it somehow came across anticlimactic. Maybe I didn't buy into the explanation. Or maybe it just felt like it was quickly glossed over so that we can get back to more silliness. Either way, I was left unfulfilled.

Derelict spaceships is such a classic scifi horror trope, with so much potential and possibilities, that the fact that not much came of this was terribly disappointing. Readers more used to domestic thrillers may find the excessive ruminating to be on par for the course. But those hoping for predominantly scifi and horror elements will probably be hard pressed to find satisfaction here.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

A poignant and luminously hopeful tale about the joys, mistakes, and repercussions of growing up and falling in love, Sunlight Finds You took my breath away from the first page to the last.

I'm always drawn to a good coming-of-age story, especially one with a fierce female protagonist. Here we have Nora, seventeen years old, when she meets shy and clever Leonard at school. Soon the two of them are inseparable, but this was the 1950s. Social norms clash with the exhilaration of young love, and they are forced to break off their relationship. What follows is a series of decisions and actions that Nora must take, the consequences of which she will feel for the rest of her life.

I opened this book to the first page and was immediately captivated. Nora made for a compelling main character, with her strong personality, her love for her family, and the impetuousness with which she fell for Leonard and he for her. It was a tale brimming with the optimism of youth and the headiness of young love, and I couldn't help but be swept away.

There was something about the quiet and reflective prose and the fascinating characters that made me forget what I was reading was completely made up. I was so immersed in this tale, I often didn't want to stop. I wanted to inhale it in one go, to sink in and not surface for air until I had reached the very end.

It was clever to structure the narrative as a much older Nora looking back on her younger life. Not only did it add insight, but it also showed how resilient Nora was in spite of all that befell her. That resilience was a large part of the charm of this tale, with its tone of grace and buoyancy turning this story from one of sadness into one of hope and redemption.

The story seamlessly weaved in and tackled so many worthwhile topics—societal norms, family dynamics, parental expectations, class and gender differences, grief, regret, and forgiveness—all of it done with a subtle and deft hand.

Recently, I've been picking up books about women in suburbia set during this time period, only to be disappointed with the results. So many books seem unable to make up their minds about what they want to say, often walking back at the last moment what they've been trying to accomplish up to that point. I'm glad that wasn't the case here. There was no wishy washy, no attempt to walk Nora back from all that happened to her. In fact, her strength in the face of pain and adversity is the whole point of this book.

What an absolutely irresistible story this turned out to be. Everything about it was so masterfully done, I'm still dazzled and reeling in the aftermath. I can't believe this was the first I've heard of Laura Moriarty. It's clear there'll be no stopping me now from digging through the rest of her backlist.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

Meteorologists in love? Well, don't get too excited. Let's just say I would've had a better time sticking to my favorite weather blogs than whatever the heck I got here.

I have a lot of words to describe In Stormy Weather, but if I had to pick just one, it would be excessive. Everything is just so over the top—the characters, the romance, the storm chasing, the working in a male dominated field, even the spicy scenes. At some point, you have to wonder if subtlety is indeed dead or if this book was just out on a personal mission to kill it.

Where to begin? Quincy is a meteorologist in a field where literally every single other person is a guy (at least according to this book). And every time she has an interaction with them, they immediately look down on her and disparage her because she's a woman. Now, I'm a girl in STEM, so I know what it's like to be a female working in a male dominated field. But how can there not be a single male ally out there for Quincy except the love interest?

And so we start into what can only be described as slavish ass kissing on the part of Sebastian for the entire 400 pages of this book. Every time they get together, he calls her amazing and brilliant and resilient and yada yada yada. Like, I get it, girl is accomplished. But no real person talks like this unless they're aiming to be sycophant of the year.

Speaking of compliments taken too far, we also have Quincy's two BFFs. Every time the three girls are together, they first have to take turns complimenting each other on how amazing and successful they are, before we can move on. Like come on! How do these poor souls ever find the time to exchange any useful information, when they need to preface every single exchange with many platitudes of greatness?

This book was primarily written in dialogue form. It must take up at least 95% of all prose in here. But just because something has the potential to be banter doesn't mean it succeeds. The majority was so bland and, quite frankly, an obvious attempt at filler that I often caught myself losing focus and skimming, just to get to something good. You add to that the never ending reassurances between the characters on how successful and awesome and badass they all are, and you can see how this starts to feel like a slog.

Back to meteorology for a second (the main reason this book caught my eye). It is a science of predictions, so everything comes with a rate of confidence. But the way this book tells it, it's all black and white, and the only two people in the entire world who can make the right call are Quincy and Sebastian. And they do so by taking a millisecond glance at the data, followed by Sebastian goading Quincy into being a "badass bitch" and telling their discoveries to the world. As if having your lover "believe in you" is the only thing you need to be good at your job.

And don't even get me started on the spicy scenes (long to the point of cringey), page length (also long), the incessant Truth or Dare (inserted into every conversation), Quincy's credentials (having millions of followers on social media, which was brought up again and again), and the storm chasing (putting oneself and one's partner and potential rescuers' lives in danger, just to "prove" oneself). Like, have mercy!

Obviously, this book does not believe in the concept of subtlety. It has the bones of a good romance, but it was firmly buried under a tsunami of "rah rah go Quincy you're a girl" messaging that got real old real quick. And if someone's really that educated and accomplished and they still have to put their lives in imminent danger over and over again just to make themselves believe it, then probably the right place to work through that is in therapy and not through their lover and their friends complimenting them to death.

So there you have it. I probably would've had more fun just reading weather blogs, which I will go do right now.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

"Why aren’t we all just fucking dead, really? It is most troubling to me."

Ah yes, it has been a bit. But it also feels like no time at all has passed since I was last in the company of my favorite investigative duo.

There's nothing quite like picking up the second book of a promising series. Of course there's tons of excitement and anticipation, but if I were being totally honest, there's also no small amount of doubt coloring the whole thing. After all, what if I imagined my enjoyment of the first book? What if what I took for brilliance and intrigue was in fact mediocrity catching me on a good day? But have no fears here, my friends, for A Drop of Corruption was every bit as good as its predecessor.

Let's talk about the mystery first. As usual, we are immediately dropped into the thick of things. A treasury officer has disappeared, but he did so in a room where all the doors and windows are locked from the inside. Hmm, so a proper locked-room mystery? Challenge accepted!

But that was just the start, and perhaps the easiest part. Because from then on, Ana and Din follow an ever more complex web of secrets and red herrings and misdirections, all building up towards the big finale. And what a finale it was, as satisfying and inevitable as you would expect from the best mysteries.

Speaking of, if you've read enough of this genre and have thought about its inner workings, then you know what makes a good mystery—they can be as complicated and intricate as you'd want along the way, but when you get to the reveals, they must be clear and straightforward, as if you’re uttering nothing more than the unavoidable truth. And Robert Jackson Bennett has not only cracked the crux of this principle, but he is able to execute on it again and again.

The writing is as sharp and engaging as ever, with a hint of the droll wit that I've come to associate with this series and its characters. It pulled me in and kept me riveted throughout. Normally with a book, when I put it down and then picked it up again, it takes me a few pages to return to the world inside. But with this book, my mind snaps to it immediately, never wandering, never wavering as I devoured the tale within.

By the way, did we see that the series rebranded from Shadow of the Leviathan to Ana and Din Mysteries? I'm so glad. The old name felt a bit lumbering and awkward, misleading you into thinking that the books were predominantly fantasy instead of what they really are, which is mystery forward in a fantasy setting. But the new name corrects that, making it clear that this is first and foremost a mystery, with our eponymous characters at the helm, sussing out all manners of secrets and depravity across the Empire.

All that is to say, if you're a fan of mysteries and have been holding off on this series because of its fantasy element, let me give you a nudge. The mystery components in here are so well done, it would be remiss for any fan of the genre to miss it. But on the other hand, if you're already a reader of both genres and just haven't gotten to this series yet, well, what the heck are you waiting for?

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

To be honest, I thought Every Summer After did Charlie dirty. So I'm glad in One Golden Summer, he finally gets the story and the happily ever after that he deserves.

Cracking open this book and stepping back into Barry's Bay was a bit like coming home. I fell in love with this lakeside town during Sam and Percy's story, and was forlorn at the prospect of having to say goodbye. So when I heard there was a sequel, of course I jumped at it. To get the chance to visit Barry's Bay again and see Charlie's love story come to fruition seemed like a dream come true.

The progression of Alice and Charlie's relationship was surprisingly refreshing and relatable. It didn't quite fit with many of the exaggerated, well-worn romance tropes out there as is often the case with this genre. Instead, we have the simple story of boy meets girl, boy and girl are attracted to each other, but along with the intrigue also comes some reservations. And what follows is a friendship first, with benefits, that then blossoms into real love.

All the things that make a romance compelling—the yearning, the sizzle, the genuine connection—were here by the bucketful. And the things that readers usually cringe at—dramatic breakups and miscommunication—were kept to a minimum. Instead, we just have two authentic characters slowly and surely getting to know each other. And as we come to understand their reservations, they made sense and provided the necessary tension to move the story along without being too over the top.

There’s something about Carley Fortune’s writing that is instantly transportive. It's suffused with the sort of longing for the carefree days of youth that I think everyone can relate to. It's nostalgia at its purest form, a wistful affection for the lost days of summer that feels comforting and bittersweet at every turn. To read her books is to be swept away to a younger version of ourselves, one where the limitless possibilities of life still stretch out in front of us.

There is a keen awareness throughout the story of time and its forward march. Charlie's grief over the loss of his parents is a testament to that, as is Alice's bucket list for her seventeen year old self. And her work as a photographer, capturing brief moments and slices of life, was a way of trying to hold on to all that is fleeting and ephemeral. That awareness helped elevate the book to a new emotional height, one that kept me in its grips throughout.

This was a wonderful read. Fortune's nostalgia-tinted writing felt like magic. I laughed, I cried, I was swept away. This was first and foremost a romance, but it was also a love letter to Barry's Bay, a reverent nod to the golden days of summer, and a gentle reminder to live life to its fullest while we still can.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

A killer who only targets one specific address? Color me intrigued.

When it comes to thrillers, the premise matters a great deal. A good one serves as a natural jumping off point, one that gives the story room to breathe, room to grow, and ultimately, room to wrap up. The premise should encompass all the possibilities that follows, as well as allow for a progression of the narrative arc that eventually leads to a satisfying conclusion. And 138 Main very much took advantage of its terrific premise.

The format was in the vein of a police procedural, so we follow seasoned FBI agent Ben Walker and rookie Zoe Hill as they scramble to get one step ahead of the killer. Zoe, in particular, was a clever and likable main character, so her investigation made for a compelling read. As bad stuff starts to happen and we check in with victims and would-be victims living at the eponymous address, the sense of urgency and pressure really amps up.

From cover to cover, this was so much fun—it's fast paced, high stakes, lots of action, with the sort of interesting developments that kept me glued to my seat. When the buildup is so good, there's always a question about whether the story can deliver in the end, and it did so here, wrapping everything up neatly and with much satisfaction.

You can always hook me in with an intriguing premise, and they don't come any more enticing than this. If you're in the market for a book to get your adrenaline going, it's worth checking this one out. It's been coming in a bit under the radar, but it's exactly what I would want for a cinematic, high-octane thriller.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Sorry to say, but the characters in The Shampoo Effect had the emotional intelligence of slugs, so it was hard to get into a story like that.

The premise was interesting enough. Caroline goes off to Greenhead to work on her writing and falls in love with local boy Van, who then introduces her to his ragtag group of close friends. But it soon comes out that his ex is pregnant with their child, and so chaos and hilarity ensues. Or rather, I thought hilarity would ensue. But instead, I just got a lot of whatever the female equivalent of bro vibes is and the sort of drunken idiocy I haven't seen since college frat parties.

All the characters in here were really something. Clueless, self-absorbed, mean and cliquey, they really embodied the worst of growing up (or not growing up, as the case may be). We follow them as they drank and did weed and mushrooms, acting like fools and occasionally throwing in a game of truth or dare just to liven things up. But lest you think this was a story about teenagers, they're actually adults in their thirties with children of their own.

And so the stupidity continues. The problems were real, but the way they dealt with them was distinctively immature. Everyone's favorite miscommunication trope was here in spades. Why say a simple sentence to your partner when you can hold it in for years? Why speak your mind when you can just smile and swallow your anger and let resentment fester? And so these hapless people carried on, unable to discern why they were unhappy with themselves and their partners.

This is written with an ensemble cast. And while I don't necessarily mind such a structure, it is imperative that each character feels distinct and stands out on their own. Otherwise, they all just blend together and you start having trouble keeping them apart. And unfortunately, that's what happened here.

When you have so many unpleasant, emotionally stunted characters, it can make the whole thing feel off-putting. What should've been a group of friends discovering themselves and growing wiser instead turns into a shallow spree of mean girls and guys learning lessons they should've figured out a decade ago.

Speaking of mean, at one point, the story references Mean Girls (one of the sharpest satires on the school experience from the female perspective), so I have to wonder if that was the author's intention. But without the humor and insight that made the film so successful, what we have left here was just... mean girls.

So I leave this review with a selection of quotes from the book, all of them gems.

She had checked her reflection and noticed, with complete horror, a hair poking from her chin. She had tried to grab it with her fingernails, but it had been futile, and so she’d spent the entire walk trying to hide her face.

She spent two hours studiously ignoring both the soccer and the other parents while she played with her phone. She knew it was antisocial, but she had real friends.

It was how they survived parenthood and life with small children: They took turns dosing themselves with weed, mushrooms, and booze, whatever made the hard edges softer.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars