What is it all the kids say nowadays? No notes, so good! Just kidding though, cause I have lots of notes.

So this is Alex Finlay doing what he does best. Everything I love about his thrillers is here—the characters, the mystery, the writing, not to mention the sheer intensity. I was drawn in from the very first page, and from there on out, I was holding my breath and turning the pages as fast as I could until I reached the very end.

To follow two characters as they try to figure out their own individual mysteries is an intriguing setup. Jules survived the May Day Killer, but is he coming back for her? And Quinn, fresh out of juvi, must find out who murdered his mother. Their two storylines weave back and forth, drawing closer and closer in the way that mysteries must, until everything ultimately collides into a satisfying conclusion.

We really get to know Jules and Quinn throughout this story. Some thrillers can come across a bit random because the characters feel interchangeable, but not here. Here, the dual points of view serve to sear these characters into our minds, and their growth and triumph is at the heart of this story's appeal.

When it comes to thrillers, I feel like I'm always complaining about how there's so much filler. Often, for large swaths of the narrative, nothing is happening, yet we follow character after character as they wallow and ruminate and jump at the shadows. So it's quite a breath of fresh air to get one where every chapter, every scene brings something urgent to the table.

A large reason for this is due to the book's unusual structure. Its timeline takes place exclusively on May 1st, year after year. We start in 1992, and then we jump to the same day the following year, and on it goes. And because there is so much time in between not covered, so much left unsaid within the pages, it necessitates a tighter narrative that strips away all the fluff and filler, automatically amping up the tension and making it unputdownable.

My only quibble is that the mystery component—and maybe it's more my fault than the story's—is too obvious. Normally when I read a mystery, I may start to get an inkling of what's going on, and by the end, I've gotten some things right and some things wrong. But in this case, I called it all and I did it with a large portion of the story still left. It doesn't take away substantially from my enjoyment of the whole thing, but I did wish for a eureka moment that never really materialized, at least for me.

Quibble aside, I had a lot of fun with this one. I loved Alex Finlay's first two books, heard his next few were a bit middling so I skipped, and here we are now. If you haven't read any Alex Finlay, you can't start with a better one. And if you've been holding off like I have, well, come on over cause he's back.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Advertised as both a mystery and a romance, This Story Might Save Your Life somehow managed to fail me on both counts. The mystery was mediocre, the romance was icky, and the fervent adulation this book's been receiving has me scratching my head in confusion.

Let's take this one at a time. First, the mystery. Talk about much ado over nothing. You'd think with two people missing, there'll be juicy tidbits and surprising twists galore. But instead, we're literally sifting through clues like "xyz" and "ayyy" and acting like they're the smoking gun—I'm not even kidding. And this Benny guy, for a podcaster, can't even converse. His way of figuring things out was to badger everyone he knows and put his foot in his mouth over and over again.

The writing was very much in the way of a lot of domestic thrillers, aiming to be as opaque as possible in order to ratchet up the tension. So instead of just spitting it out, we get a lot of references to "the incident" and "you-know-who" just to add to the murkiness. But the thing is, having a story that is artificially ambiguous isn't the same as having an actually suspenseful mystery, and my brain was not fooled.

Then we get to the culmination, and I had a bit of a shocker, though not from surprise or delight. Let's just say, when you're reading a mystery, you never ever want the resolution to be a deus ex machina. And then, to really cement the lunacy, the wrap up proceeded to spell out in long, confusing, tortuous detail the entire ridiculous series of events that led to Joy's disappearance.

Now, onto the romance. I don't have a problem in general with infidelity in a story. In fact, I enjoy reading about it because I think real life is messy and complicated. But I do have a problem when emotional infidelity is presented as some sort of great love story, and that's what happened here. Joy and Benny were both married to other people, and they met and married those people after they met and fell in love with each other. So what exactly was their excuse other than sheer stupidity?

There was also the additional hook of a podcast, which Joy and Benny helm to the tune of millions of dollars and listeners. Yet, every time we peek at their content, it was nothing more than inane chatter and insipid flirting. I cringed so hard.

Usually, when I read a book that's not for me, I can still see why others would enjoy it. But in this case, I'm just baffled. What do you all see that I'm not seeing? Every component in here was so middling and uninspired, it makes every other book I've read in the genre look skillful by comparison. So yeah, I'm going to be here puzzling over this for quite a while.

I stare at the Batchelder-tile fireplace, the one Joy mistakenly called a “bachelor” fireplace until Xander corrected her in his singsongy accent.

P.S. Looking back, I should've stopped when I came to this line. Because with a straight face, it implies that not only are there three people in the world who know and care what a Batchelder-tile fireplace is without working in fireplace restoration, but they're all somehow in relationships with each other. And that's exactly the level of ridiculousness this story operates under.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

It's hard to deny that Five is conceptually interesting. But unfortunately, its execution ended up feeling more gimmicky than anything else.

We follow five characters as they converge upon the training station. In a few minutes, one of them will die. Who will it be? The omniscient narrator guides the reader along until we get to that pivotal moment and all is revealed.

Let's start with the characters. When you have a story like this with an ensemble cast, where five lives intersect and change over a brief period of time, it all comes down to the characters. And the ones in here are not really what I expected. They each come with a shtick—the narcissist, the addict, the psychopath, the child psychopath, and the one that only interacts with dead people. If that all sounds a bit over the top, well, it really was.

Instead of being well-rounded individuals with some flaws, the five people in here were all taken to the extreme. Whatever their problem is, it defines every bit of who they are. There is no subtlety, there is no humanity. And when everyone is so exaggerated, it can be hard to connect and empathize with them.

Did I care what happened to these characters? No. Was I curious who would die? Not really. Because to lose one unlikable character is pretty much the same as losing another, so it was all one big shrug for me.

The other major issue is the writing. I'm sorry to say, but I found it kind of obnoxious, especially the longer it went on. The author very much chose to lean into the omniscience of the narrator, to the point that they actually came across as an insufferable know-it-all.

Review everyone’s positions. Consider what they might do next. Consider what you know that they do not, and will not, until it happens, until the train that is headed toward them is unable to stop in time.

I understand this is trying to break the fourth wall, but result was just unappealing. Instead of showing the reader and letting us figure things out for themselves, we are told what to think and how to feel every step of the way.

Life and death happen regardless of what you think, or guess, or put in your online review, or dream of, or work for, or choose, or want. Or deserve.

Yikes! This sort of grating, repetitive, and overexplanatory prose was everywhere, breaking into pivotal scenes and dispensing platitudes like they might actually be rare nuggets of wisdom.

I get it. This was supposed to be some sort of revolutionary, never before seen style of prose and storytelling. But maybe, just maybe, there is a reason no one in the past has attempted this type of narrative. And it's because instead of coming across as compelling, it's just off-putting.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

"Blood is one thing. The sight is another. But courage—that is rarest of all, Vasilisa Petrovna."

A dark, lush, achingly beautiful tale set against the coldest winters of a bygone Russia, The Bear and the Nightingale swept me away with its unforgettable characters and lyrical prose, and in the process, completely captivated my heart.

There's no feeling like picking up the first book of a fantasy series, especially one rooted in mythology and folklore. I know I will be transported to a land and time far away, full of magic and monsters and of course, the forces of good and evil fighting it out over the soul of mankind. And such was the story here, though it surpassed all my expectations.

The setting of medieval Russia and the coming of age of a girl who must cast off the chains of womanhood to achieve greatness made this feel like a tale both old and new. Our heroine Vasilisa is the heart of this story. She is so strong and fierce and courageous, even in the face of unimaginable obstacles. Following her journey and cheering her on as she stands between her home and the evil monsters bent on destroying it was an absolute delight.

The prose was sublime, and I say that as someone who's not normally fussy about such things. I'd happily take some ugly writing in exchange for a fantastic plot. But thankfully, no such tradeoff was needed here. Every line felt carefully crafted, bringing the story to life with a vividness that was not to be denied. I frequently found myself lingering, rereading sentences and passages much too beautiful to savor only once.

Often, fantasy can come across as a bit juvenile, especially if they feature a protagonist in their teens or early twenties, making the whole thing feel more YA than adult. But the author managed to sidestep that quagmire here, sketching Vasilisa with such elegant restraint and only glancing at the sort of romantic and melodramatic notions that frequently drag down other narratives in similar situations.

Two quick words of caution. One, the book very much sticks to the authentic Russian naming and nicknaming system, so the same character was often called different things by different people. This led to some confusion the first time I read it, but on reread, I had no problems. I think the different names threw me off the first time, but if you're aware going in, hopefully you'll be able to figure them out via context with minimal issues.

Two, this has a bit of a slow start. It isn't one of those stories that roars into action from the get-go. In fact, a lot of its charm lays in its gradual development as we immerse ourselves in the atmosphere and the land and its people. It isn't until a third of the way in that the action moves to the forefront and the plot really starts to reveal itself.

I am in awe of this story, all the more so because it is Katherine Arden's debut. Now that it's whet my appetite, there's no way I can stop. I want more of its wintery magic and the fierce heroine within who defies all odds. It's a good thing this isn't a standalone, and there are still two more books to come to satisfy my cravings.

"Tell us of the frost-demon, the winter-king Karachun. He is abroad tonight, and angry at the thaw."

Readaroo Rating: 4.5 stars

How many odd and nefariously-utilized floorplans can there possibly be out there? Well, according to Uketsu and Strange Buildings, there's at least 11.

But first, let me take moment to shake off the goosebumps. That was intense, and I mean that in the best way possible. Reading Uketsu is always an experience. Once I start, I don't want to stop. I'm always thoroughly enthralled until I reach the very last page, and this was no different.

To understand Uketsu's appeal, you first have to understand what his stories are. Under the giant umbrella of the mystery/thriller genre, they fall onto the mystery side, specifically those that involve puzzles and fair play. As such, the clues are always there and the reader need only be clever enough to figure it all out alongside our protagonist. Now obviously, that did not happen to me and I succeeded in solving not a single iota of anything, but that's where all the fun and appeal lies.

And while I wouldn't go so far as to put Uketsu's books into any sort of horror category, his mysteries definitely feel tinged with chilling and macabre vibes. There is a tension and dissonance throughout that sets the overall tone, and it works to keep me on my toes.

Now, this goes without saying, but you do have to suspend a fair bit of disbelief to enjoy this story. In real life, have you ever come across even a single architectural anomaly that points to crimes and secrets? I don't think so. But the main character in here, after the success of his previous book Strange Houses, had so many people send in their own such house issues that he was able to pick out 11 and turn them into a story. Like, come on. So yes, a healthy suspension of disbelief is a must.

Speaking of that, I find it interesting that Uketsu has bestowed upon his main character the honor of being the writer of his books. I don't see this plot device often, but the few times I have, it blurs the line between fiction and nonfiction. And when it comes to mysteries, the more real and authentic it might seem, the more unputdownable it is.

Needless to say, I was absolutely riveted. The beginning, as each of the odd floorplans was introduced, felt more like a collection of short stories. But then as we went on and the disparate vignettes started to intertwine, the complexity and the addictiveness ratcheted up, until we reached the culmination of everything. And what a culmination it was. My suspension of disbelief skills was thoroughly tested, but I enjoyed every moment of it.

This is the sort of mystery that feels like it might be best read twice back-to-back. Because by the time everything comes together, there are so many elements and characters and floorplans at play, it can be hard to keep them all straight. The book did try to do some recapping, which was helpful, but I suspect if I read it again while everything was still fresh, I'd probably see the story from a whole new perspective.

A quick word of caution—be sure to check the trigger warnings if you're a sensitive reader. There are definitely some dark elements in this story.

Uketsu's mysteries are always so unique and such a celebration of the puzzle within, I can't help but be captivated. There's a part of me that has always clung to my childhood dream of being a detective when I grow up, and reading these books and hunting for clues in the pictures within, I feel like maybe I still can be.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars