I love Ali Hazelwood, I really do. But her recent tendency towards the meek and emotionally immature female main character has me throwing my hands up in exasperation.

This has been a slow, steady decline. Hazelwood has always been a fan of the miscommunication trope (or no communications at all, as the case may be), and it's the one overarching conflict in all of her books. But to make this trope into a scenario in which hundreds of pages could be written to keep two seemingly compatible people apart, one or the other must suffer from an inability to say what's on their mind. And so here we go again in Deep End.

This book had so much potential. Instead of the usual STEM participants that we've come to expect, we have collegiate athletes who also happen to take their education seriously. Now, as a STEM girl myself, I'm all for scholastic excellence, so to have both that and athletic achievement was almost too much for my nerdy heart to take. But the keyword here is "almost" because it started to go off the rails pretty much immediately.

Scarlett is a diver who harbors a secret inclination for BDSM-style sex. She also suffers from mental block and leftover trauma (the reasons behind the aforementioned inability to communicate). In swoops Lukas, a hot swimmer who just happens to harbor her same sexual inclinations. Only problem? He's the ex of her best friend.

On paper, the premise sounds fine. But even a cursory glance would have you come to the realization that the main conflict for the couple (her friend/his ex) is a thin one at best. How long could this self-inflicted martyrdom on behalf of her friend—who encouraged them to get together in the first place—go on for Scarlett? Well, the book clocks in at almost 450 pages, and you really start to feel it as it goes on.

By the time we get to the final culminating conflict, the wheels have really come off. Scarlett, in all of her meekness, could only watch in horror and victimhood as her friend, whom she has lied to and gaslit the whole way, finally called her up on it. But since Scarlett is the main character and could do no wrong, her friend was the one who eventually had to shoulder the blame and come crawling back to apologize.

You know, in psychology, there is this concept of nice versus kind. Nice is the superficial construct of always saying polite pleasantries and what the other person wants to hear, all in service of getting them to like you. But kindness is a deeper, more empathetic understanding of how to help the other person in the long run, even if it means they might not like you as much in the short term. Scarlett is all former, but the book is written such that it makes her seem like the latter, and I found the whole thing insufferable.

I don't blame the characters, obviously, since it's the authors who make them that way. And I don't even really blame the authors. I get that romance as a genre has always been looked down upon and to be taken seriously, writers feel that they must lean ever more into the conflicts and the trauma and the flawed characters in order to get there. But at some point, you've plumbed the depth of the scenario, and there is just no way to dig any deeper without going so over the top that you're just taking away from the story and the characters.

Also, a big deal is made about the BDSM exploration in this story, with the author even including a note to warn readers at the beginning. But it was so tame that I'm not sure I would've even noticed if the book had not made a huge deal of it. As it stands, the spicy scenes were steamy enough, but they also contain the sort of odd, inadvertently funny quirks that pepper Hazelwood's sex scenes (swallowing a whole boob in another book, constantly tear licking in this one).

And don't even get me started on how all the guys in this story seemed to lust after Scarlett, even though she's devoid of personality and can barely utter a complete sentence around them without a lot of hemming and hawing. Does it remind you of a certain book that rhymes with Twimight? Hmm, maybe that's just me.

All this complaining and yet I keep coming back to Ali Hazelwood. Her writing just grabs me, and no one does banter quite like her. So when we weren't stuck inside Scarlett's head and her back-and-forth about how she has no friends and no one could like her and how scary every male is and how she can't possibly let her best friend know about her feelings, I actually had fun. But it was just so few and far in between, and the rest so exhausting, that it sucked all the energy out the book.

Am I going to keep reading Ali Hazelwood? I don't know. The issue seems to lie in her full-length novels where she has the page count to really go to town on her female main characters, while her novellas remain as fun as they've always been. So there, I guess I've just answered my own question.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

I like twists and turns as much as the next thriller-loving gal. I mean, who wouldn't want to be surprised and stunned and stupefied to within an inch of their life? But in order for the twists to deliver, they have to make sense within the story and its characters. And unfortunately, that didn't really happen here.

Initially, Anatomy of an Alibi seemed off to a good start. We are introduced to Camille and Aubrey, one trying to get out of her marriage and the other impersonating her to give her the alibi she needs to achieve her goal. But then as the story progressed and the twists started piling on, it became ever more convoluted and absurd, and before I knew it, I was tuning out.

The problem is that the story lacked believable and fleshed out characters to anchor all the mayhem. Everyone in here came across as flat and nondescript, there to further the plot along but not much else. When every character is bland and everything they do and say is generic, it's hard to get into the story.

And the sheer number of characters was bewildering. As more and more of them were introduced, I could feel my eyebrows migrating towards my hairline. By the time Aubrey's four roommates came into the picture, each of whom was clearly put there to serve a very specific purpose, I just couldn't take it seriously anymore.

I kept waiting for the moment when I would buy into the story and really care—about the characters, about the plotlines, about the twists—but it just never happened. I'm pretty sure if I had quit the story midway and never found out the conclusion, I wouldn't even have shrugged. When everything is random and all the characters interchangeable, what does it really matter what happens to one when it could've easily happened to another?

And if I'm being honest, I wasn't wild about the writing either. I noticed it in First Lie Wins (Ashley Elston's adult debut), but the superior story there covered for that deficiency. Here, it was on full display. The author favors present tense, which can add a sense of immediacy to the tale, but with the downside that it can also make the writing feel simplistic and forced.

I went into this with high expectations. Ashley Elston's previous book was a standout thriller that delivered both a unique storyline and all the thrills. So to have this one fall short is particularly disappointing.

That all sounds super negative, but it wasn't that bad of a read. It certainly goes by fast enough if you're looking to wile away a few hours. But it prioritizes its twists over everything else, and at the end of the day, it's just hard to come away feeling satisfied with a story like that.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

Mercury brought us into the skies, Apollo took us to the Moon. But what about Gemini, the important but often overlooked middle child? Hardly anyone remembers the achievements and dangers of its two-year, twelve-mission program that paved the way for all that followed. Gemini: Stepping Stone to the Moon hopes to right that wrong.

Immediately from the prologue, this book had me hooked. We open onto the spacewalk of Gemini 9 which had come perilously close to fatal. From there, we step back in time to the beginning of NASA and to President Kennedy's pledge to put a man on the Moon before the end of the decade. It was a gutsy and ambitious pledge, but once made, NASA took it as a promise and proceeded to run with it.

This book covers every Mercury and every Gemini mission, and it's fascinating stuff. Every crewed outing (six for Mercury, ten for Gemini) carried enormous risks for the astronauts and contained objectives that must be met in order to move the program closer to its boots-on-the-Moon promise. And in almost every single mission, something went wrong. The combination of quick thinking, ingenuity, and plain luck that kept everyone safe made for a thrilling tale.

Kluger's a terrific writer. His style is very zippy and engaging, so it pairs well with nonfiction, really bringing history to life and keeping the reader riveted. He's faithful to the technical stuff, but he also understands that this story isn't just about that. The human parts are just as important, and he is able to bring to life all the key players and every astronaut that made the Gemini achievements possible.

Kluger also has an eye towards humor, and when you have bureaucracy, posturing on the national and international stage, and good old human folly all mixed in together, there is sure to be some unintended funny moments. The space race with Russia was particularly predisposed to being droll, even if inadvertently so, and Kluger's take on it added a lot of zing to the whole thing.

When it comes to nonfiction, one of the most important factors is whether there is enough content to fill out a book, and that's a resounding yes over here. In fact, it's quite a task to distill a dozen missions and the history leading up to them down to just 300 pages, so Kluger is able to pick and choose the most interesting bits, and as a result, every page of this book comes across with urgency and insight.

What an exhilarating read, especially at this moment in history when the Artemis program looks to be on the verge of bringing us to the lunar surface once more. What is old shall be new again, and so we're right back on the stepping stones to the Moon.

If you're a space buff like me, or just a nonfiction fan in general, I don't think you'll regret picking this up and learning all about Gemini, And in case you're wondering, the correct pronunciation is "gem-min-ee" according to NASA.

Readaroo Rating: 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!

Oh Emma, you delightful, spirited creature! You are so well-meaning and so certain of your cleverness, yet horribly misguided. What results is nothing short of a comedy of errors.

This is my third Jane Austen, and I have a confession to make. Before I started reading her, I thought people from back in the day had no sense of humor. You only need to pick up any of the often recommended classics (all long, dull, droning on and on about rather tedious topics) to come to the same conclusion. So discovering Jane Austen has been quite the breath of fresh air and continuous source of enjoyment for me.

But first, a little bit of a rocky start. It's hard to go into a classic completely blind, especially one so famous and oft-adapted. So when I opened the pages of Emma, I already knew that one of the decisive movies of my childhood, Clueless, was based off of it. And so it is that my love for Clueless and my complete familiarity with the script made the initial chapters of this book a little more plodding than it should've been.

My brain couldn't help but compare the two. It constantly kept a running tally of every character, every scene, and every plot development I came across, happily mapping them to their corresponding one in the film while I begged it to stop. It was enormously distracting, to say the least.

But by and by, the book won me over and my brain quieted. I would say about a third of the way in, after Volume 1, was when I really started to get into and enjoy the book. The characters came alive, and Emma's smug and self-congratulatory meddling, all to unintended consequences, brought so many smiles and chuckles my way.

But it isn't just silly nonsense, one after another. If it were, this would've quickly deteriorated into slapstick comedy or artificial fluff. What makes this tale so scintillating is that Emma possesses self-awareness. She walks away from each experience with some much needed understanding and contrition, and that is what ultimately makes her such a likable and relatable heroine.

Jane Austen really has a way with words. Her writing is quite dialogue-heavy and she spends a lot of back and forth on each topic, way more than I see in contemporary writing. Yet her witticism not only prevents the scene from becoming stale and repetitive, but rather makes each additional sentence shine with ever more insight.

Let's talk about the romance. I mean, there's a reason why many consider Jane Austen to have laid the foundation to the Regency romance genre. Here, we have what must be the OG friends-to-lovers, and I'm all for that. The slow burn, especially as it starts to crystalize in Volume 3, was swoon-worthy and oh so satisfying. Add to that the grumpy/sunshine vibes and the eventual emotional reveal, and I confess I shed some tears.

This is a story where it gets better and better as it goes on. At first, Emma's folly produces some less than ideal results, but really no harm no foul. All is forgiven, especially from her perspective. But then as time goes on, the consequences and misunderstandings start piling up, and eventually all of Emma's chickens come home to roost. That, plus the slow burn romance, all add up to a thoroughly riveting and immensely gratifying arc and conclusion to the story.

I'm solidly in my Jane Austen era now, and I totally get why she still has such a fervent fanbase this many centuries after her stories were first written. While much has changed in our lives since the 18th century, much still remains the same. And her characters, her stories, her astute observations all seem destined to remain as timeless now as they did when they were first created.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

In just two books, Uketsu has established himself as one of the most innovative mystery writers in recent memory.

Diving into one of his books is a bit like jumping into freefall. You can never quite anticipate it and you never know where you're going to land. But the journey, short and brief though it may be, is sure to delight and exhilarate.

And so Strange Houses is just like that. We open into a discussion about the blueprint of a house. At first glace, it looks to be a lovely and charming home, but when you peer a little closer, certain features don't really make sense. Then the more you look, the more it seems the house is hiding something dark and maybe even a bit sinister.

I totally inhaled this. Once I started, I couldn't put it down. Everyone talks about one-sit reads like we've all got unlimited, uninterrupted time at our fingertips. But with this book, you can actually read it in one go. I think I got through it in just under three hours, which is totally doable, if not in one continuous chunk, then at least over the course of a day.

What can I say, there's just something really fun about hunting for clues in pictures. Like, I know I'm an adult now and I should only be reading serious literature with words in it, but come on, who doesn't love pictures in their books? It totally harkens back to the carefree childhood days of Where's Waldo? and Hidden Objects.

I enjoyed the first half of the book more than the second. The first half focused on the blueprints and the architecture of the houses, and it was really fun to follow along as the characters discussed and deciphered the meaning behind unusual features, coming to conclusions I should've seen, but somehow didn't.

The second half got a bit convoluted. There were so many characters, I had to flip back and forth a few times to make sure I got everything and everyone straight. And the explanations and reveals really tested my suspension of disbelief skills, possibly to a level heretofore unseen.

I'm looking at the ratings for this book, and I totally understand why they're a bit lower. But for me, I really didn't mind the wackiness. I already had to suspend my disbelief to read Uketsu in the first place. After all, no real person would hide sinister clues in pictures nor build houses in this way. So to even buy into the author's premise was already a leap, and I was happy to follow thereafter to wherever he took me.

I cut my teeth in mysteries with Agatha Christie, and while the two of them have very different styles, Uketsu and Christie both fully embraced the spirit of the genre. At its heart, a mystery is meant to be a puzzle, one where we the readers must don our detective caps, try to solve it for ourselves, and when we inevitably fail, marvel at the way it all comes together.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

I'm disappointed I didn't enjoy The Mad Wife more. The blurb and all the glowing reviews had me believing this was a certain type of story, but it turned out to be something else entirely.

I originally picked this up thinking it was a careful exploration of what it meant to be a woman, a wife, and a mother in the 1950s (and how that might still apply to today). And the thing is, the book does start out that way. We meet Lulu, housewife extraordinaire—or at least she's trying to be with one young kid and another on the way. She lives in the Stepford-esque neighborhood of Greenwood, where all the wives stick to a very rigid schedule of cleaning and cooking to meet the "perfect housewife" standard.

But then, as the story progressed, it started to get wonky. Lulu didn't communicate, not with her husband, not with her friends, not with her family. Every time someone asked if she was all right, she said she was good and great and absolutely. But then she would get upset that they didn't read her mind or understand her. Yep, that's the sound of me sighing my way through this in exasperation.

There was also the storyline with the neighbors who moved in across the street. Lulu spends so much mental energy lamenting how others judged her for her appearance and her inability to present as the perfect housewife, yet she turned right around and judged Bitsy back, constantly making jabs to her face and behind her back. Am I supposed to be sympathetic to that? I really don't know.

It's one thing if us reader can't see where a story is going and we're taken by surprise and delight when it all comes together in the end. But it's another altogether if the author doesn't know where the story is going either. And that's the distinct feeling I got here. And so the tale ambled on, seemingly without direction or intention.

But I hung on, thinking there was some grand reveal or lesson at the end that would make all my bewilderment worth it. But when it finally unfolded, I was more puzzled than ever. What was the point of this story? If felt like the author spent the majority of time walking us down a very specific path, and then she spent the last part of the book walking it all back.

[View spoiler below]

Even the tone of the story was inconsistent and wishy-washy, contributing to the confusion I felt. It started out as dark humor very much in the vein of The Stepford Wives, with those checklists and Lulu's molded food. But then slowly and surely, the humor was dropped and all that was left was the dark. And it was very dark, make no mistake, so check your trigger warnings carefully if you're sensitive to that.

This felt so much like a bait and switch to me. I picked it up hoping for a complex look into being a wife and a mother. But by the end of the book, I wasn't sure what the heck I was reading anymore, though it certainly wasn't that.

But hey, I'm in the minority here. I see nothing but glowing reviews for this book, so don't let me dissuade you. I suspect this is a case where the story just didn't match the reader, and that happens from time to time.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

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[Spoiler] This book is about how tough it is to be a wife and a mother in the 1950s. But no, actually, she had depression and psychosis stemming from the loss of her baby. This is about how unsupportive husbands were towards their wives. But no, actually, her husband supported her fine and it was all in her head. This is about how she had a mental breakdown from the stresses of her unfulfilling domestic life. Ah, but no again, actually she just had lupus. Like what is even going on in here?