The second book in a stunning series, The Girl in the Tower is the chance to step back into the magical world of medieval Russia and reunite once again with one of my favorite literary heroines of all time.

What a joy it is to come face to face with Vasya. She is the embodiment of everything I adore in a female protagonist—clever, brave, strong of mind and spirit. We'd previously left off with her being forced to flee her village after saving her people from evil and being branded a witch in return. Now she intends to find freedom and adventure dressed as a boy for safety. But of course trouble finds her almost immediately.

And so we're off. Unlike the first book, which very much took its time to build out the atmosphere and the lore, this book didn't need such luxury. It took a few chapters to set the scene, and then we go right to the action. There is mystery and intrigue aplenty, with evil, villainy, and danger around every corner. And Vasya is right in the thick of things, never able to catch her breath once it gets going.

Watching Vasya grow and grapple here, as she matures into who she is meant to be, is a large part of this story's appeal. She's still the same feisty and courageous girl we've always known, but with age and experience comes confidence. There is so much adversity around her, yet she does not falter under its weight. In fact, she blossoms. When it comes to heroines you can cheer for, it doesn't get much better than this.

Katherine Arden has matured as a storyteller. Her lyrical, earthy passages bring this world into sharp relief, and her nuanced portrayal of Vasya's dilemmas and complicated relationships with those around her are the real emotional core of this book. Every time Morozko or Solovey enter the scene, they steal it with their quiet affection and steadfast loyalty to Vasya. In particular, the relationship between Morozko and Vasya is captivating, especially in the vast gulf of all that is unsaid and unrealized between them.

Which brings us to the romance. This series came out before the whole romantasy frenzy, before it had seemingly cannibalized the entire fantasy genre. And wow, was it a different world back then. Whereas now it often feels like fantasy must first and foremost be smut (and an excessive amount at that), back then the romance wasn't so in your face. It was more subtle, and as a result, more compelling. We feel so much yearning between Vasya and Morozko, yet the writing remained restrained and controlled. Every time these two characters were together, I couldn't help but want more (instead of cringing at the excess and hoping for less). And that's the way it should be.

There's something utterly enchanting about this series. Every moment feels like a dream, like a fairy tale of the most extraordinary caliber. To open its pages is to fall headlong into its magic, and I happily do so again and again.

Readaroo Rating: 4.5 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!

"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

"Everyone believes their own cause is noble."

"Then may everyone do what they must to win."

Epic, beautiful, devastating—I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that The Poet Empress might just be the best historical fantasy I've ever read. And it's possible my heart may never recover.

It feels like I've been waiting all my life for this story. When you're raised on Chinese mythology, imperial dramas, and Zhang Yimou films, it's only natural to want more and better. And before anyone points me to Romance of the Three Kingdoms, I confess I craved something a little more contemporary (and a little less intimidating). So of course along comes Shen Tao to deliver everything I've ever wanted, right in her debut.

From the first page, I knew this was going to be something special. The writing is so sharp and vivid, it immediately drew me in to Wei and her plight. To be hungry and poor is her destiny and the destiny of everyone in her village. So when the opportunity arises to be concubine to the crown prince himself, what could Wei do but reach for it with both hands. She understands that to gain anything, she must first suffer. And so starts her journey into the scheming, treacherous Inner Court of the Azalea House.

So long as I was never hungry again, they could do to me anything they pleased.

What follows is a tale brimming with so much strength and resilience, and so much hope. I love strong female characters, and Wei is exactly that personified. She faces so much hardship, yet through sheer determination and cleverness, she overcomes it again and again. To cheer for Wei is to cheer for all the stories out there about little girls conquering insurmountable odds to bring nations and dynasties to their knees, and I'm so there for that.

I think one of the things that makes this story so riveting is that there is so much on the line. There is danger and death around every corner, and Shen Tao doesn't shy away from bringing the darker elements onto the pages. I often complain about low stakes ruining a story, so it's thrilling to read a book where the stakes are so high and the cost of failure so unthinkable that my heart was in my throat the whole time.

But Wei isn't perfect. In fact, no character in here is. And the exploration and revelation of every hero and every villain's good and evil is one of the most interesting aspects in this story. There are no good paths on the road to victory, only agonizing choices, so to lose bits and pieces of one's heart and soul is but a foregone conclusion. And this nuanced and complex characterization is at the center of this immersive tale's appeal.

It's also worth mentioning that this is a standalone, which I am a huge fan of. At a time when the fantasy genre tends to embrace ever longer series, it's refreshing to come across a book where the entire universe and narrative arc is kept to less than 400 pages. It means that the writing must be sharper, the plot tighter, and the resolutions more swift and satisfying. That's not to say I would mind if Tao ever decides to add to this story with a sequel, but it isn't necessary because everything is already wholly contained.

When it comes to fantasy, the one thing that makes me a little hesitant to go in is always the worldbuilding. You're just never sure what you're going to get. Will you slip right in seamlessly, or will you be spending hundreds of pages mired in the weeds before anything interesting even begins? Well, no fears here, my friends. We slip right in to a world where the rules of magic and poetry rein, but it feels as effortless as if it were our own.

But in order to enjoy this book, you do need to go in with the right expectations. First and foremost, there are parts of this story that are extremely dark. When you think about it, you can't have a tale about war and famine and suffering through the eyes of a concubine without it veering in that direction. There is abuse in all of its forms, and while it isn't gratuitous, it is present on the pages. For the right reader at the right time, that suffering adds to the authenticity and emotional resonance of the tale, but it isn't for every audience.

Secondly, in a publishing world where romantasy is the genre de rigueur and every conceivable story is implied to be one, this isn't it. This isn’t some sort of slow burn enemies to lovers, if you only waited long enough; this is enemies period. There is no romance in here whatsoever, only historical fantasy. All you readers who enjoy your fantasy with a big heaping pile of romance, you have been warned.

Sometimes I feel like what I think I want as a reader and what I actually want are two completely different things. I think I want cozy and easy, to just float on a bubble of happiness through a book. But what I actually want is to be put through the wringer, to step all over broken glass, and to feel my heart ripped out and broken and made anew. After all, what is the point of living if not to feel, what is the point of reading if not to be swept away on a tide of emotions so intense, it makes real life pale in comparison?

And so The Poet Empress achieves all that and more, coming in and completely trampling my heart and mangling my emotions. I have no doubt this fierce, lush, breathtaking story will stay with me for a long, long time.

"What is the point of suffering if we have nothing to gain?"

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

I wonder what price I would pay, for that same freedom.

A dynamic entry into the Greek mythology retelling space, I, Medusa takes a villain in the traditional lore and turns her into the hero of her own story.

I adore mythology retellings. But for some reason in recent years, I’ve been tiring of them. Maybe I’ve read too many. Or maybe all the interesting ideas have been written and there's nothing new left. Whatever the reason, it's surprising and thrilling to come across a tale and a character that makes me remember why I fell in love with the genre in the first place.

The story kicks off, and I'm immediately enthralled. We follow Medusa as she yearns to leave the island of her home. She wants to see what's out there, to explore and have adventures. But instead, she is a mortal woman amongst immortal beings, and her parents' sole expectation of her is a favorable marriage to burnish the family name.

In prose equally arresting and foreboding, Ayana Gray draws the reader in, and we are left with the distinct feeling that all will not go well for Medusa. After all, every Greek mythology is pretty much a tragedy, and I don't think it's a spoiler to say that Medusa's will be as well.

But then, as the book continues, it starts to get a little bogged down with an issue common among this genre. When you think about it, you can approach a mythology retelling in two ways—by centering the tale on an event or on a character. If you go with an event, you have more freedom to focus on the choosiest bits, though at the expense of some character development. But if you pick a character, while you get the advantage of sketching them in sharp relief, you must more or less tell their whole life story, and some parts just aren't as interesting as others.

And so the middle of Medusa's tale sagged a bit from this exact phenomenon. We've moved on from the exciting introduction to our heroine and her bid to leave her childhood home. And we haven't yet gotten to the pivotal moment when she would become the legendary monster of so much fame and infamy. Instead, she's just living her life day to day, trying to make it as an acolyte in Athena's temple.

My other issue with this story is that certain sections come across a bit too obvious and modern in its lessons. This is a clearly a female rage story, but some of the dialogue are a bit too aware of this fact and apply a contemporary language in its examination of misogyny. That doesn't really match the ancient tone of the story and as a result, it pulled me out for a bit.

But small quibbles aside, this is such an interesting take on an often maligned character. Medusa is more than just the monster and myth she ends up being, and this story does her justice, bring all of her beauty and complexity and duality to life.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

I don't read much fanfiction these days. In fact, it's been more than two decades since I've last indulged. But I still remember vividly the joy of finding stories that bring to life characters and worlds I thought had reached their conclusion and of which nothing more was forthcoming. The chance to experience everything one last time and to have it develop new multitudes never before seen is a thrill beyond compare. And Manacled totally delivered, surpassing even my wildest expectations.

I went into this not expecting much. I'd previously never read any Harry Potter fanfiction. In fact, until this story crossed my awareness, I'm not even sure I'd ever contemplated their existence. And it's certainly never crossed my mind that Hermione and Draco could be a pairing. So the emotional force with which this story hit me really took me by surprise.

I loved that this story made Hermione front and center. As a bookish gal myself, I couldn't help but love Hermione in the original series. And if I were being honest, I think the one thing I found lacking there was that it didn't feel dark enough to me. Yes, bad things happened, but by and large, everything worked out for everyone. So this story took my favorite character and moved it in a direction I'd been secretly longing for.

And make no mistake, this was dark. When you think about what being on the front lines of any war, let alone a war with magical capabilities, would mean and what sort of sacrifices would be required of everyone, I feel like this book captured it. Probably every trigger warning you can think of is in here, so please tread carefully.

But the darkness didn't snuff out the readability and addictive nature of this story. Even though this was such a long read, I absolutely inhaled it. It had the sort of immersiveness that made the imaginary world within feel so real, the actual world outside dimmed in comparison. I thought about the story constantly, perpetually waiting for next moment I could forsake my responsibilities just to read a few more pages.

I was left in awe. This was so well plotted and so well written, taking not just what already existed in the series, but also adding to the lore and fleshing it out to such a degree, I don't think I will ever look at the original series the same way again.

My only complaint is that this is a bit too long, especially towards the end. The epilogue went on and on for what seemed like hundreds of pages, spelling out in excessive detail how everything turned out for everyone. It even included scenes decades later of children growing up, which was ridiculous in the original series and is still so in this one. But since this is fanfiction, I understand the appeal. If the goal is to revisit a beloved world one last time, then some wallowing is to be expected.

Fanfiction has always been a bit looked down upon, as if being the original creator of a lore somehow equates to being the best and only storyteller of it. But I scoff at such a notion and this story proves why. Fanfiction can help elevate the canon they are based upon to more lofty and imaginative heights, and I'm all for that.

I can see why this story got an offer to be traditionally published (with all the Harry Potter elements removed and reworked, of course), and I'm definitely adding Alchemised to my TBR. I'm going to wait a bit until this version isn't so fresh in my mind, and then I'll dive into this tale again from a fresh perspective.

Readaroo Rating: 4.5 ⭐

I can't resist fairy tale retellings. All those beautiful princesses, all their tragic misfortunes, and of course all the furry creature companions. What's not to like? And since Snow White is at the top of my list, there's no way I was going to pass this up.

And right away, I thought we were off to an auspicious start. We meet Healer Anja—your typical smart, independent, poison drinker. Her research has saved quite a few folks from certain death, and she would like to continue to do so in peace and quiet. But the king arrives at her door with a unusual request, and soon she's swept away on a secret mission to save his daughter Snow.

The premise sounds fascinating, so I settled in and eagerly awaited the moment when we would get past the setup and the tale would really take off. And I waited. And then I waited some more. You can see where I'm going with this. It wasn't until a hundred pages in that Anja even arrives at the palace to start her investigations.

So herein lies my biggest issue with this story. The pace was so sluggish and leisurely, it was hard to keep my attention. There was a lot of filler, including tons of details about every animal god and the history of every poison/antidote known to this world. But it's all made up and completely irrelevant to the storyline, so who cares?

Anja also started to grate on my nerves. She is both a fretter and a foot-in-the-mouther, and let me tell you, the combination was not pleasant. We are privy to her every thought—however middling, hesitant, and bumbling it may be—as well as her entire trial and error process in figuring out Snow's problem. I'm sorry, but I just don't need that level of detail.

And yet, even after all that thinking out loud, Anja was still somehow really slow on the uptake. Everything had to be completely spelled out in order for her to understand what was going on. I mean, I don't expect every main character to be super clever, but I also can't be hundreds of pages ahead of them.

And the real kicker is, even after all that, I didn't really understand what happened at the very end. Everything had been wrapped up, and then the story tosses in one final twist. It wasn't a very good one since I had seen coming from two hundred pages prior, but no matter, I can look past that. What I cannot look past was the explanation that accompanied it, for it made absolutely no sense.

Served in the tale's typical hemming and hawing style, every additional hesitating statement moved me further and further from clarity, until I had no idea what was going on anymore. It was like the author had completely forgotten the story she had written and all the rules she had made up for the universe, and just served up some random tidbits because they sounded good.

Not gonna lie, this was kind of a disappointment. I've heard nothing but great things about T. Kingfisher, and this being my first by the author, I thought it would serve as the gateway to a whole feast of fantasies heretofore unexplored. Instead, I'm left wondering if maybe this author isn't really for me.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

Welp, that was a huge disappointment. When you talk about the distance between expectations and reality, Babel was about as far apart as you can get.

But before I get into that, let me start with a disclaimer. As you can see, I did not like this book. In fact, I'm hard pressed to come up with even one thing I enjoyed in here. But I'm decidedly in the minority, and many readers clearly loved this. If that's you and you thought this was the best thing you've ever read and would happily spend the rest of your life reading this over and over, that's totally cool. But uh, it's probably best not to read my review.

Seriously. There is a giant rant incoming, so last chance to turn back. You've been warned.

Right on, then. Let me start with my main issue here. This is clearly a tale built around the author's linguistics education and her desire to expound at length about colonialism, slavery, and racism. And I don't necessarily have a problem with that, but if you're going to go on and on about anything, there had better be some depth to it. But all I got was some regurgitation of fairly surface level stuff. And on top of that, where is even the story?

We spend hundreds of pages on Robin's linguistics and language education, during which time the author seems to have forgotten she's writing fiction and not actually a textbook. Sure, it was interesting to read about these topics initially, but when it goes on and on for hundreds of pages in the droning fashion of an actual grad-level textbook, I start to lose my patience.

Where is the insight? Where are the new and interesting ideas that would grab me and make me rethink my views on languages and by proxy, the entire world? Instead, all we get here are lots of words and what they mean and how they translate into various languages, and how there isn't a direct translation between them and so we're forced to lose a bit of meaning during the process. Like, okaaay? Do I look like I live under a rock and need this spelled out across hundreds of pages in order to grasp such a simple concept?

Then there's the puzzling factor of the footnotes. There were so many of them (at least one per page), but they weren't there to elucidate the story as you would expect. Rather, they were there to dwell on irrelevant and quite frankly boring linguistics and translation asides, contexts, and histories. Their inclusion does nothing for the already plodding pace, and I honestly can't wrap my head around why they were included in the first place.

I get that R.F. Kuang is clearly very knowledgeable about these subjects and wants to convince us that the universe she has created, and in particular, Babel, is real. And of course every storyteller faces the dilemma of how much detail to include in a bid of authenticity versus narrative pacing and flow. But Kuang, faced with this choice, always erred on the side of including everything. No detail is too small, no random linguistic tidbit too obscure, to have made it in here. As a result, I'm entirely convinced that Robin & co. are studying linguistics and languages, but since I'm not actually trying to get a PhD in these subjects, it really doesn't make for a scintillating read.

But if it were just wading through some dull passages to eventually arrive at a fascinating story, I wouldn't be so upset. Instead, we never get to the good part. This book starts and ends with the message that colonialism, racism, and slavery are all very, very bad. And while I wholeheartedly agree with that, there is nothing else of substance beyond that sentiment.

Every character, every plot development, every dialogue is in service to this message. The characters were all flat, one-dimensional representations of their respective races, with no potential for redemption or ability to rise beyond their skin color. It's odd that for a story supposedly against racism, the author employed such broad stereotypes for all of its characters.

Every plot development was clearly a way to manipulate the situation to showcase this message some more. And even the dialogues were nothing more than thinly veiled disguises, consisting of one character playing dumb so that the other character could lecture them some more (and us readers in turn) on the badness of these beliefs.

You know, there's something to be said for subtlety. My favorite books are always the ones where the author trusts the readers enough to follow along and to come to their own conclusions. Alas, that's not what happened here. Here, this book seems absolutely terrified that its readers are very dumb, so it resorts to the sort of simplistic, repetitive, heavy handed badgering usually reserved for toddlers and Communist propaganda.

But even after all this, hundreds of pages on linguistics and languages and translations, not to mention the endless discussions on colonialism, racism, and slavery, I still feel like I learned nothing new. Everything in this book is so surface level, so unimaginative, trite, and utterly predictable, that it feels like I read nothing at all.

The irony is, even with this plethora of material, I still felt somewhat fuzzy around the worldbuilding. The most interesting part of this book, how the silver relates to the languages, seems very vague and glossed over. Which means that at the end of the day, I just didn't buy into this world. And for a fantasy, that's pretty much a complete and utter flop.

Maybe if I wasn't an enthusiastic fantasy reader who craved compelling plot, rich worldbuilding, and nuanced characters, but instead was just looking for some basic ideas, then I probably would've found this story acceptable. Or better yet, if I wasn't sure how to feel about colonialism, racism, and slavery (good or bad, who can say?), then the rudimentary thoughts presented here would've enlightened my views. But as it is, this didn't do anything for me and will probably go down as my biggest disappointment of the year.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

Here I was, thinking I was getting an epic tale inspired by Norse mythology. Instead, what I got was a bunch of horny, unwashed Vikings rubbing up against each other while going on pointless quests.

To be fair, A Fate Inked in Blood didn't start out badly. In fact, our initial introduction to Freya had me thinking she was my favorite type of female protagonist—strong and competent. The mystery surrounding her powers definitely added a level of intrigue. And her and Bjorn's flirty first meeting was charming, if a bit overdone for a fantasy. I thought I'd hit the jackpot, for here was another contender to scratch my romantasy itch.

But alas, as the story progressed, the shine started to wear off.

First there was Freya, protector of her mother and brother. She'd scream, cry, vomit anytime anyone even hinted at a threat to them. When not engaged in such theatrics, she'd lust after Bjorn. Every single thought and sentence Freya uttered—and there were a lot because this was written from her perspective—was in service to those two things. And that's pretty much her entire personality.

Then there was the plot. It meandered along happily, lacking that strong cohesive narrative that propels a story forward. At times, I thought I was reading Lord of the Rings fanfiction, first traversing stairs inside a mountain, then fighting the undead, then trekking up a treacherous snow-covered mountain. But none of it really contributed to the overarching narrative. Any of these scenes could've been cut out and we'd have the exact same story.

And then we come to the romance. In your face as it was, it somehow didn't do it for me. Every time we're in the middle of some crucial/mortally dangerous scene, there was Freya, fantasizing about ravishing Bjorn. We're pulled out of the action constantly to read about the slickness between her thighs and the throbbing of her core. My eyes could not have rolled any harder.

But it wasn't just that the romantic scenes felt jarring and out of place. It was also how incredibly dirty and smelly the participants were, which we're reminded of time and time again. Call me weird, but I don't want to read about vomit and pig shit and stinky sweat in the same scene as sexy time. That brings a whole new dimension to the phrase "getting dirty," and I'm sorry to say that I'm into cleanliness.

Usually as a story goes along, I get more and more into it. The characters grow on me, the plot pulls me along, and before I know it, I'm fully immersed in the world. But not here. Here, the characters were devoid of personality, the plot fairly directionless, and the only thing of note is the cringey, inappropriately-placed romantic scenes.

I know what my problem is. I have this habit of going out and acquiring subsequent books in a series before I've even touched the first book, hence jinxing the whole thing. And of course every time I do this, I end up not enjoying the first book. And so this duology follows the same pattern. On the plus side, I can now clear out two precious spots on my bookshelf in one go, so yay for a twofer.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

Well hello there, my new favorite series! Delighted to make your acquaintance!

But first, before we go on, a little confession. I'd like to think of myself as an equal opportunity book lover. Much as a parent would find it hard to name a favorite child, I would be similarly discomfited at having to point to a favorite genre. And yet, if you were to really press me, I would have to admit—but only after much hemming and hawing—that it's probably the murder mystery that has my heart. It was my first book love way back when, and even after all these decades, I could never really forget that feeling.

So any time I crack open a mystery, I'm instantly a kid again, waiting for the intoxicating rush of sinking my teeth into the enigma of it all and being thoroughly swept away. But in order for it to really count, the story must first and foremost be a proper murder mystery. It must have clues, it must have red herrings, and it must have suspicious characters. And of course, at the helm of it all, it must have the all-important clever sleuth or two, there to uncover all the secrets.

And that's exactly what I got here. The Tainted Cup delivers all the goods on its murder mystery, and it does so while also seamlessly fleshing out a whole new fantasy universe. To say I'm impressed doesn't even begin to capture it. It's entirely possible that the kid in me fainted in excitement.

From the very first page, I could feel this story sink its claws into me. We are dropped into the thick of things immediately (there's a murder!), and it only gets better from there. There were so many layers to this compelling and confounding mystery, and I couldn't help but don my thinking cap and armchair detect the whole way through.

It's clear the characters take inspiration from Sherlock Holmes. And while that can be a bit of a hit or miss for me, I'm happy to report that I totally loved it here. Din and Ana both contain the quirkiness of their inspiration but none of their annoyances, and I found them endearing almost from the get-go.

The fantasy world here is a reader's dream, so imaginative and interesting yet so easy to slip into. At times, I almost forgot it's a completely different universe, so vividly was it painted. It's not easy to blend multiple genres together so effortlessly, and I'm always in awe when it happens. And while I wouldn't say you have to enjoy fantasy to read this book, you do have to be a fan of murder mysteries to really appreciate it.

Suffice to say, I am obsessed. It's not often a mystery completely captures me, and to hear that this is the first book of a series is the best news ever. I suspect I'll be gobbling up the next book posthaste.

P.S. The hardcover edition I got didn't come with a dust jacket. Instead, the cover was printed directly onto the book itself, and I'm so on board with that it's not even funny. I actually harbor a low-grade resentment for dust jackets. They're always getting crinkled and mangled while I'm reading and carrying them about, so I absolutely adore this naked book aesthetic.

Readaroo Rating 5 stars!

"You get the world you're willing to fight for."

Ah. We've now come to the exhilarating conclusion of The Crimson Moth duology, and let me tell you, my friends, it does not disappoint.

We start off soon after the end of the first book, and it's as if I've never left. Everything I loved is back—the characters, the enemies-to-lovers romance, the unbelievably high stakes and the even bloodier conflicts. And just like its predecessor, Rebel Witch was unputdownable from the first page to the last, and I couldn't have been more thrilled with how it all went down.

One of the things that impressed me the most about this series is the ease in which one can just slip into this world and its magic system. When it comes to reading fantasy, there is nothing worse than onerous or confusing worldbuilding, all happening at the expense of the reader's ability to be fully immersed. So I'm always delighted when I open the first page of any book, and I'm immediately sucked in.

I have to talk about the enemies-to-lovers here. It's a trope lots of books try, but hardly any get right. That's because it's hard to come up with a reasonable premise in which two people who hate each other could not only grow to love each other, but would actually have the time and opportunity to do so. Enter this duology and its searing romance, taking that trope and totally hitting it out of the park.

Romantasies can really run the gamut in terms of how much fantasy versus romance they each have. Some are predominantly fantasy with just a smidge of romance and some have lots of romance with nary a whiff of fantasy. This duology really strikes the perfect balance between the two. Both are crucial to the story, but neither overshadow the other. As a result, I do feel like you have to be able to enjoy some romance in order to appreciate this series, though maybe you don't necessarily have to be a huge fan of fantasy, if that makes sense.

Also, let's not beat around the bushes here. It's clear a big reason why this was such a riveting read is that it's two books and we're done. I hope it's not blasphemous to say in a genre and era dominated by ever longer multi-book series, but I like them succinct. It's not always better to have more books, especially when there isn't more content. So it's refreshing to come across standalones and duologies that get to the point, where every scene matters and the narrative is motivated to move forward at a snappy rate.

The one thing to note (and I thought the same about the first book) is that this very much feels like an adult story even though it is marketed as YA. The themes in here are undeniably mature, including scenes of violence, torture, death, blood, and sex. Honestly, there are plenty of adult books tamer than this. So watch out if your young 'uns want to read this, is what I'm saying.

It's hard not to get caught up in the story here. Every component, while not super unique, comes together and clicks so well, you're just swept away into the world of witches and the New Republic. I think if you're looking for a fun romantasy, you can't reasonably ask for more than this.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Gideon would come for her, and when he did, Rune would be ready.

Okay, this would have to be the most enjoyable witchy story I've read in quite some time.

Rune Winters is a witch, but no one can find out. For in the New Republic, to admit to being a witch is tantamount to treason, punishable by having your throat slit and strung up to bleed out in the public square. Rune watched her beloved grandmother die this way, and she can't stand by and do nothing while others suffer the same fate . But she's going up against the Blood Guard, an elite group of soldiers bent on purging witches. And their captain, Gideon Sharpe, is the most lethal of all. In order to save others of her kind, she'll have no choice but to seduce him and gain his confidence.

When we're talking about enemies-to-lovers (in my opinion, one of the most interesting tropes out there), I often feel like the enemy part isn't taken very seriously. In place of real enemies, you're more likely to come across weak rivals or even snarky acquaintances, who are then forced to interact in ever more outlandish ways in order to satisfy the "enemy" trope. So you can imagine my surprise and delight when Rune and Gideon turned out to be actual enemies, with good reason to hate each other and want each other dead. Well then, let the games begin, shall we?

I love it when a story grabs you right off the bat, and Heartless Hunter does just that. There's no awkward worldbuilding, no confusing backstories. Right from the first page, we're sucked into the thick of things and it doesn't stop from there. The magical system is clear and easy to understand so we can focus on the good stuff, and that's what's happening between Rune and Gideon.

The witch and the witch hunter must engage in a cat and mouse game in which each is trying to outmaneuver the other. Both are committed to their cause and believe it's worth fighting to the death for. To mess up is to face deadly consequences, so the stakes could not be higher. You then sprinkle in a bit of attraction between the two, and how could I not be riveted?

But I don't want to overemphasize the romance part because I think that undersells the story and it isn't the main reason why I found it so interesting. It's the matching of the wits and how the two enemies must always stay one step ahead of the other. In particular, I loved Rune's character and how she approached the obstacles in her way. She's smart and courageous in face of overwhelming odds, and she's exactly the sort of heroine I get excited about.

The only thing I'm a little surprised by is that this is marketed as young adult. The violence, the themes, and the sexual content all seem pretty on par with any adult fantasy I've ever read, and it even has one spicy scene. The only young adult part of it is the age of the characters, so just be aware if that concerns you.

I wouldn't say this story treads new ground, but what it does, it does supremely well. It was such a fun and entertaining read from beginning to end, and I can't wait to get to the sequel.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars