To be fair, I think this is a fine, maybe even great read within the popular cozy fantasy genre. But am I that big of a fan of the genre to begin with? I'm not sure, and The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches didn't do anything to change my mind.

But let's start with the good stuff. First of all, this book isn't without its charms. In fact, as Mika embarks on her adventures at Nowhere House and meets all the loveable side characters, I thought the writing and dialogue were both snappy enough—if a bit cutesy wootsy—to give the book that necessary oomph to carry it through. But then the more I read, the more the book started to succumb to the usual things that plague a cozy read.

The issues probably all stem from the fact that everything is very low stakes, pretty much the de facto benchmark for cozy fiction. Every problem will always be neatly resolved, everyone will always get their happily ever after. So with nothing really on the line, I had a lot of trouble keeping my focus on the story, and my attention kept drifting away.

Since it's all very low stakes, the majority of conflicts that did exist felt very forced. The issues were by and large interpersonal in nature, and the characters were forced to behave in ever more melodramatic ways in order to keep them going. The initial snappy dialogue slowly but surely was replaced by ever more precious and saccharine lines, and I couldn't keep my eyes from rolling around.

The other thing that really stood out here was the book's excessive use of f-bombs. Lest you think I'm a prude, let me reassure you. I don't have a problem with swearing in books, and I myself happily partake in real life (something that has landed me in hot water with my toddler on more than one occasion). But here it was used so much—my kindle count came back at 47!—that it jarred me out of the cozy atmosphere constantly.

While we're on the topic of jarring, was the steamy scene even necessary? (Now I'm really starting to sound like a prude.) I'm all for spice, but this one didn't really gel with rest of the cutesy vibes. The characters' personalities came off as decidedly young and twee, so it was odd to all of a sudden read about them having sex. But hey, don't mind me over here. Perhaps this is a common thing in cozy fiction and I just haven't read enough of them.

Sigh. I think I speak for a lot of readers when I say it's very hard to resist the lure of cozy fantasy. After all, who wouldn't want to be cozy, unless you're mean-spirited and curmudgeonly in your soul (of which I am not). So every time a cozy pops up, I feel compelled to dive into it with the greatest of expectations (and lots of blankets and teas). And inevitably, I am disappointed.

Obviously, if you're a diehard fan of cozy fantasy and you haven't been living under a rock, chances are good you've already heard about and read and loved this book. But what about the folks who don't normally consume the genre? Should they go and pick this up? I'm sorry to say that in this case, my answer is no.

Readaroo Rating: 3.5 stars

Choo choo! Bet you won't be thinking about toy trains the same way after reading this.

When it comes to thrillers, I'm always on the lookout for a few things—a premise with a good hook, execution that really brings the story to life, characters with tons of depth, and the sort of immersiveness that'll turn hundreds of pages into a one-sit read. And this book had it all, my friends.

Annie has been through a tough year. Between losing her husband to a car accident and suffering a career tragedy, she could really use a change of pace. So when the opportunity comes up to move to a small town outside the city for the summer with her son Charlie, she jumps at it. Charlie soon finds a train set in the locked shed out back, and lo and behold, odd things start happening.

First of all, I have to mention how comforting and nostalgic the vibes in here were. The story takes place in the early 2000s, before smart phones and screens were ubiquitous, so kids and adults hung out with each other and played with their physical toys (imagine that). You add in the bikes and jigsaw puzzles and of course the eponymous train sets, and surely every reader would be transported to that time.

From the very first moment I opened this book, I was immediately and decidedly sucked into the tale. Some books, it feels like you have to work so hard for a long time just to get to the point where you can feel like you're into it, but no such hard work needed here. I slipped seamlessly into this world and was thoroughly riveted.

When you compare the style of this book to a lot of modern thrillers, the two honestly feel so different, they might as well be completely separate genres. Modern thrillers tend to favor short chapters, with characters acting as crazy as possible, and an endless parade of outlandish twists and turns, all in the hopes of bamboozling you into a dopamine daze so you won't notice the lack of good writing and a good story. Thankfully, we don't have any of that here.

The attention to character development and longer chapters means I have time to really sink my teeth into this dark and entertaining story. This is a dual point of view and timeline, but it doesn't feel we're being yanked back and forth because each portion has many pages and chapters to breathe and develop before we have to switch our focus to another.

On the whole, I'm not a huge horror reader, but when I want horror, this is exactly the type I enjoy. It's dark, but not so scary that it will keep me up at night peering into every shadow and corner. The darkness merely adds to the entertainment of the whole thing, making it feel even more delightful and unputdownable.

I totally recommend this if you're in the mood for some (dare I say) cozy and old school horror/thriller, kind of in the vibe of Stephen King from back in the day. And bonus points if you're craving some early 2000s nostalgia and you're reading this during the spooky season.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

You are the first delivery of human pioneers to Mars. There is no going back. . . . You must continue.

Let me first pause and take a deep breath, because what the heck did I just read? I'm always looking for that perfect Mars exploration story—you know, the one where astronauts land on the red planet and strange things start to happen—and wow, did this deliver. I feel like I've been walloped, again and again, and I loved every second of it.

I was drawn to this book initially because the blurb mentioned locked-room mystery set on Mars, and of course, I tripped all over myself trying to get my grabby hands on it. But to call this a mystery is to sell the story short. It is that, but also so much more.

We slip seamlessly into the mind of Dana Gold as she comes out of deep sleep, one of three astronauts aboard the vessel that's about to delivery them onto Mars. Bots have been sent ahead to build the habitat that will be their forever home and to welcome them onto this desolate planet. But they've lost communications with the bots, and that's only the beginning of their troubles.

This tale grabbed me immediately. The science fiction component is so interesting and unique. The worldbuilding isn't centered around technology, but rather, there's a lot of humanity woven into it. The bots are made by humans and are therefore in our likeness, even if their makers didn't intend for that to happen. And so the evolution and the interaction of the bots is a fascinating and crucial focal point of the story.

But if you're not usually a reader of science fiction, don't let the setting scare you away. The backdrop of Mars is simply the starting point from which this story can take off. It isn't about Mars or space or robots. It's about humans and what we would do when pushed to the limit.

The horror element comes on slowly. We see Gold's thoughts and emotions as things start to go wrong. The horror isn't in the physical, but rather the psychological. There is a lot of exploration about where horror comes from, if it is within us humans and we manifest it in ourselves and the things we build, or if it comes from outside sources, both the known and the unknown. It gave me the chills, and I found it to be absolutely fascinating.

Because this is a novella, there is an economy to the writing that makes every moment count. We don't get mired in unnecessary explanations, we don't get stuck in overly emotional ruminations. We go from scene to scene, each one so propulsive, so tautly suspended, it felt like I was holding my breath the whole time.

I honestly haven't been this excited about a sci-fi and horror blend in a long time. The only thing is, after reading this, I'm definitely giving up my dreams of becoming an astronaut and ever going to Mars.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

What’s a girl to do when the only constant presence during the last millennium of her life has been a guy who’s contractually mandated to murder her?

What was it like before Ali Hazelwood came into my life? Well, for one thing, my cheeks didn't hurt so much from all that smiling and laughing, I'll tell you that.

As you'd expect, Hot for Slayer was pretty much a hoot from beginning to end. It was easy to fall into Aethelthryth's world, trying to carve out a life for herself by drinking sustainable scumbag blood and staying away from any vampire slayers. But when a slayer shows up with no memory of their rivalry, what's a vampire to do but invite the cutie over to do sudoku puzzles together and nurse him back to health?

In order for a novella to be successful, it all comes down to the characters. You have to plumb enough depth into them that they feel real and fleshed out, but you're obviously constrained by page count. And Ali Hazelwood totally gets it right with Aethelthryth and Lazlo. They're so sweet and kind and smart, you can't help but adore them.

In addition the characters, there were so many little touches that made this not just a fun read, but a memorable one. The writing was sharp, the dialogue snappy, and the situations authentic and hilarious. There were even little nods to vampire lore, which definitely added to the whole atmosphere.

Sometimes with a full-length romance, it can feel like the conflicts drag out unnecessarily, making it feel long and convoluted. And so to read a novella is quite refreshing. Every scene counts and there are no unnecessary misunderstandings or conflicts just to pad out the pages.

All in all, this was such a cute and delightful way to spend an hour or two. Thank you, Ali Hazelwood, for yet again delivering on the fun.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

I mean, if weird stuff starts happening in your house, the right thing to do isn’t to make your guests leave. It’s to get the heck out of there yourself, you know what I'm saying?

So this was an interesting read for me. It was both more and less than what I was expecting it to be, so let me try to get all my thoughts down here.

First, I honestly thought this would be more scary than it turned out to be. People were saying this was one of the most terrifying books they've ever read, it was nightmare inducing, they had the living daylights scared out of them, yada yada yada. So I psyched myself up (which honestly took more than a year because I'm a big scaredy cat when it comes to horror) and braced myself every which way. And then, nada.

I wasn't scared. I felt as cool as a cucumber throughout the entire read. I don't know, you guys. Maybe I'm not a scaredy cat and am actually a stone cold reader? Or maybe this story wasn't that scary. At most, I would say it was mildly spooky/creepy, but that's from the vibes more than anything plot related.

For me, scariness doesn't come from water dripping, mislaid furniture, and random doors opening and closing. There's nothing inherently scary about those things. I think those elements would work better for me in a movie (which I see is in this book's future) because they would engage more of my senses, but on the pages, I'm mostly just like, okaay?

I do wonder if my fear (or lack thereof) was also being trounced by my overwhelming annoyance at the main character. Eve is the epitome of people-pleasing and unable to stand up for herself, so she's constantly doing things that she doesn't want to do and shouldn't do. You add in all the hems and haws and bad decisions, and it was just really painful. I kept shouting at her in my head to be strong and smart, but no such luck. To be fair though, if she were, we probably wouldn't have a story at all.

Now, let's talk about how open-ended this book is. I think as a reader, you're probably going to fall into two camps. Either you enjoyed the whole thing so much that you don't really mind there's no sufficient explanation or even conclusion to this, or it would very much annoy the heck out of you. For me, I was quite taken aback by how little was explained.

Again, here, I think this would've worked better for me in a movie. In fact, we've seen this a lot with horror film franchises, where the unnamed malevolent force comes back again and again, terrorizing yet another set of unsuspecting characters in each new installment, with no real wrap up or clarifications given at the end. But on paper, it just feels incomplete. Books don't generally follow that style, so I can't help but want more.

Still, even with all my grousing, this managed to entertain me. The concepts in here are compelling and they're put together in clever ways. The writing style is engaging and the story certainly goes by quickly.

All in all, I think if you're a fan of the genre, this should at least scratch the itch even if it doesn't blow any socks off. I would just set expectations correctly going in about exactly how terrifying it is and how much explanation you're going to get, and that would be not too much on both fronts.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

People say the poor love to dream, but that isn't quite right. Dreaming is the privilege of the moneyed, and the world has all kinds of ways to protect their dreams.

What a quietly fascinating read Women, Seated turned out to be, and I was riveted from the first page to the last.

I don't see a lot of contemporary Chinese novels making their way out of China. So when I heard Riverhead had hired a new Mandarin-speaking editor committed towards that goal, and this was the first such book to be translated and published under that effort, of course my interests were instantly peaked.

This story is told through the eyes of the nanny Yu Ling. She works for this wealthy and powerful family, looking after their son. But when things start to go wrong for the family, where does that leave her and the child she looks after?

This felt like such an interesting exploration of class and gender. At first, it seems like the focus is solely on wealth and privilege. Yu Ling is envious of the family and the madam that she works for. They hold all this power and all this money. If only she could get some from them, she too would be set. But then as the story unfolds, she starts to realize that maybe she (poor as can be) and the madam (wealthy as can be) both dance to the tune of the men around them.

I feel like the messages in this book are so subtle, they're not at all in your face. If you were to read the story at surface level, there doesn't seem much there. But underneath, there are so many layers, it's quite compelling.

Going in, I wasn't sure how much of this story I would find relevant only to life in modern China versus being applicable everywhere. But I was happy to see that my concerns were unfounded. Yu Ling's struggles with her place in the family and in the world are as pertinent in the East as here in the West.

I'm looking at the low rating for this book, and I'm a little bit surprised. I wonder if it's partly due to the miscategorization of this story. The blurb, with all of its references to "secrets" and "life-changing choices," seems to imply this is more suspenseful and plot-driven than it really is. In fact, I would say the plot doesn't much matter here at all. This is really all about the characters.

So if you're in the mood for a quiet, reflective, character-driven story, this is well worth a look. As for me, I can't wait to see what other Chinese literature Riverhead brings over.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

I have to be honest, this is a case where the story on the pages just wasn't as interesting as the premise would lead you to believe.

Dorothy wakes up in 1954 on a transport bus bound for Hanover State Psychiatric Hospital. She has no memory of who she is, but the one thing she does know is that she isn’t Dorothy. She has visions of a future where she’s someone named Bix sent back to 1954 on a mission to save the world. But the longer she's held at Hanover, the more she is forced into believing she is Dorothy. So which version in her mind is real—Dorothy or Bix?

That’s a cool premise, right? There's so much potential here, so many different ways this story could've unfolded that's both brilliant and riveting. But unfortunately, none of those things happened and what we end up with is surprisingly banal.

One of the major problems here is that we spend too long in Dorothy's head as she's subjected to endless psychiatric treatments while trying to puzzle out the question of whether she’s really from the future. Now, this would've been more interesting to us readers if we shared the same puzzle, but we don't. We know she's from the future because otherwise, what kind of pointless nonstory would this be? She'd just be a mental patient making everything up, which could be a story, but not this one because this one's billed as sci-fi. So it’s clear to us what's going on right from the beginning even if it’s not clear to Dorothy, but we still have to stick around for 200 pages while she figures it out.

But that's fine. I'm not against a long setup if it means the payoff is spectacular. But here again, it was inexplicably disappointing. Instead of choosing to flesh out the sci-fi and speculative elements of this book (the whole reason I'm reading this), we choose to focus on one action scene after another—of running, crouching, hiding, dodging—interspersed with the sort of no show all tell infodump that makes me want to abandon reading as a hobby.

Tabula Rasa, Reckoner, Reclamation, The Guest, New Covenant—it all certainly sounds impressive, I'll give you that. But just because you name some simple concepts with important sounding words doesn’t make it any more compelling, and that’s never been more true than here. While the terms might sound fancy, I can’t help but feel that they’re thinly veiled disguises for just how poorly sketched out the future really is.

Then there is Dorothy, secret agent extraordinaire, except she keeps messing things up during crucial moments. She needs to slowly walk across the field to avoid attention? Oh no, she panics and breaks into a run and everyone notices. She has the key and just needs to get to the door and escape? Oh no, she accidentally screams and alerts everyone. She has to read a secret message on a piece of paper and then destroy it? Oh no, she leaves it face up across the room for all to see. Like, come on! What kind of dumb fuckery is that.

But it wasn't that bad, if you can believe it. Even with my long list of complaints, this somehow managed to remain a three-star read until almost the very end. At that point, we are hit with the most lazy non-ending I have ever come across. One of the final lines of this book is Dorothy asking herself:

Will I be able to pull it off? . . . Don't know.

And that's the end, ladies and gentlemen. Like what the heck! Where is the payoff, the resolution, the closure? I'm having a hard time believing this isn't some sort of joke, but no, it's all written there in black and white, clear as day. So yeah, I'm going to have to deduct a star for that.

It took me a bit, but towards the end, I finally figured out what was so off about this story. It's constructed like the pilot of a tv series. Each scene is there for maximum tension, all the while not actually giving you much nor moving the plot forward. It tries to stretch the thinnest of plotlines into the most number of episodes, and it even ends on a cliffhanger just to entice you back. No, thank you.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

She would figure it out. Because it was impossible that there was no solution. People had babies all the time and somehow managed it.

When a book is described as "wholly original," I admit it makes me a little bit hesitant. What does that mean? Is it original because it contains the sort of fun heretofore unseen, or is it original because no one was crazy enough to have put such ideas to paper before? Then you throw in a premise that includes OnlyFans and pro wrestling, and well really, what the heck are we even talking about here?

But I've been in a reading slump for months now and needed something to shake me out. So I reached for Margo's Got Money Troubles not expecting much, and boy oh boy, did it deliver in every single way.

Right off the bat, I was captivated. The first thing I noticed was the writing, how sharp and persuasive and just gosh darn funny it was. I'm trying to think of the last book that made me chuckle so hard, and I'm coming up empty. All that humor in here was the perfect medium through which more serious topics could be tackled and explored without coming across preachy or righteous.

And this book did not shy away from serious topics—teenage motherhood, love affair with a teacher, pornography, selling one's body, addiction, and of course, how to make money and a life for yourself and your baby when you have no viable skills. But everything was done with such a subtle hand and delightful tone that you hardly realize you're reading something profound when you're having so much fun.

The characters in here were sketched with such acute clarity, it's hard to not take them for real. Margo is exactly the sort of sweet, smart, and spirited character I can love and cheer for. Yes, bad things happened to her, but she doesn't let that get her down. In fact, every side character in here is their own version of loveable, and it makes reading this story even more of a delight from beginning to end.

Honestly, this was such an exuberant and feelgood story, one I didn't even know I needed. Looking back on it, I'm still not sure I could properly describe it or put it in a box, just because I've never read anything quite like it before. But I do know it was a hell of an entertaining and insightful read. If you're like me and have been hesitating on this book, just go pick it up.

P.S. How is it I've never heard of Rufi Thorpe until now? All her books are going straight onto my TBR.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

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

Cheering on a killer has never been this much fun!

Lottie Jones wants to give up the serial killer life. In fact, she's already retired and her days of murder and mayhem are decidedly behind her. But when a journalist arrives at her doorstep and starts poking around, what choice does she have? But soon enough, her life is spinning out of control, and this might just be the thing that finally gets her caught.

Yep, you read that correctly. We're following the story of a serial killer, and she is as formidable as she is elderly. In addition to all the worries of growing old and feeble and trying to figure out how to live her sunset years, Lottie must also contend with her murderous past being dredged up. That should be enough to put anyone into a tizzy, but not Lottie. She remains as cool as a cucumber, just taking care of her business.

I have to say, I was pretty much instantly taken with Lottie. She's interesting and appealing though a bit prickly, and if not for her odd predilections, she could easily pass for a favorite aunt or grandma. I felt compelled to cheer for her, even as she is forced to commit ever more heinous acts to cover for her original ones. I wanted her to succeed, to come out on top, no matter how many people she had to maim to get there, and I definitely give kudos to the author for having achieved such a compelling narrative.

The jaunty vibes in here helped offset what could've been a fairly dark read. Rather than being overly horrific and gritty, this tale had all the hallmarks of a fun and compulsive one. The fact that Lottie is a septuagenarian certainly adds to her appeal, and I appreciated all the carefully added details about what it means to grow old and frail.

Morally gray characters—never mind serial killers—can be a bit hit or miss. It's a fine line to walk between acknowledging the character's reprehensible behavior while also making the reader sympathetic to them and their plight. And when you factor in all the other usual components that go into making a story, it can start to feel like quite the balancing act. But no worries here, because this book somehow got it all just right.

It's been a while since I've read anything by Samantha Downing, but I remember antihero main characters being her signature. In the past, her books have been a bit of a mixed result for me, mainly due to my inability to connect with the main characters. But with this one, I finally feel like every component of the story and all that Downing was trying to accomplish have come to fruition, and it was a resounding success from beginning to end.

My brain is screaming at me to stop this nonsense and retire for good. And I’m trying. I swear I am.

I don't think I've ever read another quite like this gem of a tale, and I don't think you have either. It's definitely worth a gander if you're in a murderous mood and are wanting something unique to satisfy the craving.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

There was a time back in the day when I couldn't get enough of space adventures. I remember being in college, going to the library with every intention of studying for a final, then promptly picking up a Mars exploration/first contact novel sitting right there in my line of sight. Needless to say, I got not a lick of studying done that day, but I did have a wildly entertaining time.

So picking up The Last Astronaut was a no-brainer for me. Here comes an unusual object, heading directly our way. Is it an asteroid? A comet? But no, lo and behold, it's alien technology. Our only course of action is to send up some astronauts to meet and greet this object and hopefully convince the aliens not to annihilate us.

This has all the bones of a rip-roaring space adventure. The premise is fascinating, the action nonstop, and the stakes could not be higher. David Wellington's plot-driven writing style pairs well with this sort of tale, and before long, I'm sucked into the narrative.

I loved all the developments in here, especially when it came to the aliens. Even being quite familiar with this genre going in, I still feel like there were a lot of surprises in store for me. Everything came together seamlessly and with so much satisfaction, I have to give kudos to the author for having thought it all up.

But story's pacing was quite uneven, and it almost did me in a few times. Yes, there were many exciting moments, but they were often sandwiched between many excruciatingly slow and plodding ones. Each of the "excursions," in particular, felt like thousands of pages long. There were moments when I thought I'd read a hundred pages, only for the page count to tell me it was more like ten.

I feel like this was a case where the story, in its effort to immerse the reader and convince us that everything was indeed real, spent too much time on every minutiae of detail and not enough time on the truly revelatory moments. As a result, the exciting bits passed by in the blink of an eye, while the tedious ones (of walking, climbing, crawling, running) seemed to go on and on.

With regards to the characters, I'll say this — if Earth were really under attack from aliens, I'm not sure this group of astronauts and government officials would be the ones I'd want to save us all. They were not the brightest bulbs in the shed, and a lot of the issues that arose came directly from their collective poor planning and inability to communicate.

Still, I can't deny that this story had its moments of fun and excitement. I would recommend it, but maybe only to a select audience. If you're an avid fan of first contact stories, this is well worth a spot on your TBR. If not, then you can probably safely skip this.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

Well, boo. This was not at all the story I thought I was signing up to read.

Looking at the blurb, it'd have you thinking this was some sort of romantic suspense. Here comes newlyweds Sam and Annie, moving to the suburbs, where Sam opens his own therapy practice with an almost exclusively female clientele. When one such patient turns out to want more than just doctor/patient privileges, that's when things start to go awry.

I'm all for a fun and sexy time, so I settled in and got ready to sink my teeth into this titillating tale. And initially, it was exactly what I wanted. Sam and Annie were both dynamic characters who leaped off the pages, and there were even some femme fatale vibes that added to the whole delicious atmosphere.

But then we reach a turning point early in the story, and it kind of went downhill from there. Without giving anything away, I'll say what started as one story quickly morphed into something completely different, and that different was exactly the sort of thing I don't enjoy. All the fun and all the sexy were sucked out of the story, and all that was left was the uncomfortable.

I pick up thrillers because I want to have a good time. Yes, I know there is murder and mayhem within, but I want to be entertained while reading whatever crazy shenanigans is going on. But if the story chooses to focus too much on the gore or the grit or the trauma, then it can become too unpleasant to still be enjoyable. And that's what happened here.

My other big issue is that all the reveals happened fairly early on. Then we are forced to sit through the entire latter half the book while it spells out in long form essentially what is already obvious to the reader. By that point, the story can only go one way, and I read through the last 150 pages just to be sure that indeed, it went that way.

Those two things put together made the second half of the book a complete snoozefest for me. My attention kept wandering, partly because I know nothing interesting will happen and partly because what's on the pages was just unpleasant to read.

I feel like this was such a bait and switch. I was promised fun and sexy, and instead I cringed my way through so much of it. I'm puzzled by all the love for this book, but it just goes to show that two readers can read the exact same thing and come away with completely different experiences. So don't let me dissuade you from giving it a try.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

I'll say this—I never have cause to complain about the mystery components in Holly Jackson's stories. It's the other parts that has me feeling more iffy.

But first things first, I just can't get over the cleverness of this premise. Jet is attacked and left for dead, but she miraculously survives though she only has seven days left before her resulting brain aneurysm will rupture and kill her. She wants to use her last days to figure out who killed her. Along with her childhood best friend and sidekick, Billy, they go around sticking their noses where they don't belong, trying to suss out her killer before it's too late.

Holly Jackson's mysteries always feel a little retro à la Nancy Drew, and Not Quite Dead Yet falls right into that camp. There are clues, secrets, red herrings, and surprises galore, and of course I gobbled it all up. At a time when other authors of the genre can't be bothered to put any real clues into their mysteries and rely more on wacky twists to drive their stories along, reading Holly Jackson's is a breath of fresh air.

It was so much fun to armchair detect, mulling over all the clues, spotting the red herrings, and seeing what I could figure out all on my own. And Jet's childhood best friend/sidekick Billy makes for the perfect Bess/George to Jet's Nancy, and their smidgen of romance was minor enough so as to not distract. Of course if you're a mystery enthusiast, you'll probably see most of it coming from a mile away, but that doesn't make it any less enjoyable.

But what does make it less enjoyable is the writing style. This is Jackson's adult debut (after a few YA books, including the famous A Good Girl's Guide to Murder), and well, it doesn't really feel any more adult than her previous books. Jet is supposedly 27 years old, yet if you took ten years off her age, you could conceivably have the exact same story. She and every single character in here reads either like a sullen teenager or is sketched through the eyes of one.

I've seen this happen before. Authors start out writing YA, then as they and their readers mature, they make the jump to adult fiction, with the hope that their fanbase will follow and grow with them. But the problem is that some authors have trouble making this jump. Either they've gotten so used to writing YA style that they don't quite know how to do adult, or they themselves are not yet mature enough to be able to pull off that voice. Either way, it's a clumsy first attempt, and that's what happened here.

The other issue could be the format. The A Good Girl's Guide to Murder series was mixed media, as if you're reading a dossier of an actual investigation, and it was superbly done. This here though is just regular prose, and it felt considerably less successful. Jackson's reliance on dialogues and extremely short paragraphs (sometimes as short as a sentence fragment) makes it chaotic and at times difficult to follow. It took me three separate tries just to get through the initial chapter, in which we are inexplicably introduced to every single character in the book, all in one go.

Back to the mystery for a second. I know I said I have nothing to complain about, but there is one thing that left me unsatisfied. The main mystery wrapped up just fine, but there were multiple side mysteries that popped up along the way (as is oft the case with books of this genre), some of them quite serious in their own right. And though we find out whodunit in each case, there was no real reckoning for the perpetrators of those crimes within the tale. I found the attitude to just shrug and move on decidedly odd.

Okay, one more thing since I'm laying it all out there. I always get a little weirded out if there is disdain towards animals or children in the pages of a book (and not as a way to forward the plot or the characters). And while the pet in this book was treated with reverence, the attitude towards the baby was such obvious scorn while serving no real purpose, I can only imagine it's the author's own leaking onto the pages. Every time this happened, I was jerked out of the story because it was so jarring and unnecessary, and I really wish editing had caught it.

So now I'm at this awkward spot where I'm not sure where I stand with Holly Jackson. I adored the first two books of her A Good Girl's Guide to Murder series and wholeheartedly recommend them to anyone in need of some modern day Nancy Drew. But it seems with her latest books, she's veering in a direction with her style that doesn't really jibe with my preferences. Time will tell, but for now, maybe I just need to contend myself with rereads of her old books rather than venture more into her new ones.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

Not that I would've expected any less from Ali Hazelwood, but Check & Mate was absolutely the adorable and delightful romcom I needed.

Mallory used to love playing chess, but she hasn't played a single game in four years. So when she accidentally faces the #1 ranked player in the world and completely annihilates him, she's rightfully shocked. But it's one thing to stumble into a one-time win, it's another thing altogether to actually commit to playing the game. So what if she can't get Nolan out of her head and he wants a rematch? Mallory has disavowed chess, and she has no intention of changing her mind.

What can I say here that I haven't said about Ali Hazelwood a thousand times before? I read her books for the banter, the snark, and the puns, and she delivers every single time. I feel like I always have a permanent smile affixed to my face, just grinning like an idiot, every time I pick up one of her stories. And let me tell you, I'm not above having a good time.

Instead of being the usual STEM representatives, this time our characters are chess players. Now I know next to nothing about the game, but that didn't stop me from fully connecting with the characters and clapping and cheering for their successes. In particular, Mallory was an easy heroine to root for, and I was so there for her.

In terms of conflicts, I was happy to see that Hazelwood didn't rely on her default miscommunication trope like usual. Instead, Mallory was knocking on the doors of martyrdom, and while that did cause my eyes to roll a few times, the story moved along speedily enough that I didn't end up suffering any permanent eye damage.

Since this is YA, my biggest concern going in was whether this would feel too young to me. But that totally ended up being a nonissue. The story reads just like any other Hazelwood, but with the spicy scenes removed. It even contained the obligatory main character who wasn't into sex until they met "the one," a staple of Hazelwood's at this point. But if your concern is coming from the other direction (i.e. should I let my teen read this?), well that's a different conversation altogether.

It's so nice to have an author you can rely on anytime you're slumping and in need of a frothy, fun, but never frivolous read. And so Ali Hazelwood delivers again, just when I need her the most.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

I've got to hand it to Liane Moriarty. Apples Never Fall has got to be one of the most scintillating family dramas I've ever read.

Joy Delaney, beloved wife and mother of four, has disappeared. Her adult children are rightfully aghast, but they're reluctant to report her missing. They know the prime suspect will be their father, and to be honest, they're not quite sure of his innocence. When the police starts asking questions, it quickly becomes clear everyone in the family has stories to tell and secrets to hide. But how long can they hold out before all is laid bare?

First and foremost, this is a story about dysfunctional families, and I just love me a good one of those. Every member of the Delaney family is distinct and compelling, and when you throw in the game of tennis, sibling rivalries, the mother's disappearance, and that decidedly strange interloper to their family home, the tale gets interesting real quick.

I can't get over the premise. It's such a fascinating dilemma, and I couldn't stop myself from chewing it over. What would I do in this situation—would I side with my father or against him if I suspected he murdered my mother? I love a good moral quandary, and this story perfectly captured the nuances that such a predicament would bring to a family.

What I've always adored about Moriarty's writing is her sharp and astute observations about people and their flaws. She has this ability to peel back the layers of family relationships and what it means to be human, and to expose everything beautiful and ugly within, all the while injecting just the right amount of humor. This book hit upon tender subjects familiar to everyone, yet instead of making me cry, it made me laugh.

Needless to say, I found the whole thing to be utterly riveting. The characters were memorable, the dialogue snappy, and the strife felt all too real. I devoured it in just a few days. And while the mystery wasn't the core of this book, there were still plenty of revelations along the way to keep me on my toes.

If I had one quibble, it would have to be the ending. I'm not a fan of when a story is clearly wrapped up, and then the author goes on to continue some more, often to its detriment. And that's kind of what happened here. The last few chapters really weren't necessary, and including them caused the story to veer off course and end on a slight odd note. But that's a minor complaint, and I could very well ignore that last bit in my head (which I've already done) in favor of the rest of the story.

If you're considering this, do keep one thing in mind—to properly enjoy it, you have to have the right mindset. This isn't a mystery/thriller and you would be sorely disappointed if you went in expecting that. In fact, this isn't even its milder domestic suspense cousin. This is straight up a dysfunctional family drama, and Joy's disappearance is simply a plot device used to drive the narrative forward.

I feel like when Liane Moriarty writes what she knows best, there's almost nothing better. And this tale of the dysfunctional Delaney family certainly turned out to be quite the startling and dazzling gem.

Readaroo Rating: 4.5 stars

But these were the Storms.

Yes, so you remind me every other paragraph. But I'm going to need a little more than that to sustain my interests.

DNF - What is happening to my summer reading? I feel like I keep picking up books, then DNFing them. This one had so much potential, and yet the pages are filled with, well, nothing but filler. The dialogue was bland, the plot seemed nonexistent, and the siblings can all be interchanged with one another.

The thing is, name dropping and bad storm analogies do not constitute a story. My bar isn't that high. Whatever is on the pages just has to be slightly more interesting than what I've conjured up in my mind from skimming the blurb. And this did not, sadly, pass that low bar.

It reads like I've accidentally eavesdropped on a boring conversation where all the interesting bits have been cut out and the most tedious and obvious parts dwelled and expanded upon.

Maybe it's my old age, but I'm running out of time and no longer have patience for books with basic dialogue and no plot. So, onto the next.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

If Evelyn Hugo put Taylor Jenkins Reid on the map, then surely Daisy Jones is the one that cements her dominance over the expansive landscape of fictional memoirs.

When you think about, what is the difference between fiction and nonfiction? Well, that's an easy question. One is real and the other is made up. Okay, but how do you differentiate between them while you're actually in the midst of a story? Ah, and herein lies the crux of what makes TJR's stories so special.

Told via interview transcripts, Daisy Jones & The Six chronicles the rise of the eponymous band that came to define rock 'n' roll in the late 1970s, as well as the troubles that subsequently led to the band splitting up seemingly overnight and never playing together again. The thing is though, this band and their entire story is fictional, but it sure doesn't feel like it.

The narrative is raw and evocative, filled with sweet, complicated characters I can't help but cheer for. There's complexity and nuance in the way TJR captures the relationships between the band members, each flawed in their own way with their individual personalities, quirks, and baggage.

Every character in here, every interaction, every thought and emotion, even the lyrics and the technical factors that go into making a band, all come together to heighten the sensation that what we're reading is real. The amount of details in here is staggering, and I applaud the author for having done so much meticulous research to build out her fictional world. The result is as authentic and gripping as the real deal.

I was captivated. I fell head first into this band and this world, and I had trouble resurfacing. There's this reader's high that you only get in the most immersive of reads—where the real world fades out and the one on the pages sharpens until it takes over your mind—and I got it here. I absolutely inhaled this whole thing, and I didn't stop, couldn't stop, until it was all done.

Going in, a lot has been made of the story's interview format; some love it, some hate it. I wasn't sure where I would fall. But of course I needn't have worried. I was hooked right from the start. It reads like an intimate first person account, allowing us to see right into the hearts and minds of every character. We lived every moment with them, feeling every emotion as if it were our own.

I will say, rock and roll is not my preferred music genre, so I was definitely a bit taken aback by how deeply invested I was in this story. I wasn't alive during the 1970s, and it would be multiple decades after that that I even began to notice American music. But that's TJR for you. She has this way of making me care deeply about things which I know nothing about and quite frankly have never given a farthing of thought to before.

Perhaps my only small quibble is that this felt almost too real. And just like real life, not everything was wrapped up in a neat bow, not everyone got the happily ever after that they deserved. In fact, no one got everything, just like real life and maybe that left me feeling a bit wistful and yearning, but for what, I don't really know.

I think to say to an author, I loved your story so much I wish it were real and I'm sad it's not and I don't want it to end, is about the highest compliment I can give. So I pay that highest compliment to TJR here. This story really showcases the range of her skills and abilities. She isn't just a writer of generic women's fiction. She can take any topic and build out a convincing, technically rich world around it, and make us see it as real. That's so impressive, and I cannot wait to see what she tackles next.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

DNF - I don't know, you guys. I see so much love for this book, but it's not grabbing me at all.

First off, the story is so weird. There's interesting weird, like I haven't seen this before but please tell me more cause I'm intrigued. And then there's just plain weird and vaguely repulsive, so please, don't tell me anymore. And this one definitely fell squarely in the latter.

The characters were all so unlikable, but none more so than Honor. So to tell the story from her perspective was especially grating. Then when the narration switched to what is effectively third-person omniscient, it became even more strange and awkward.

The writing didn't flow naturally. It felt like the author was constantly trying put little jabs into every scene she could, making fun of people, parents, consumerism, etc. But it didn't come across funny at all. Like, was I supposed to laugh or find insight in the jabs? It was so strange and jarring.

And that flippant and stilted tone was really at odds with what should've been an emotional tale. The topics and themes in here are ones that usually would've had me blubbering, yet I felt nothing at all. I don't care what happens to any of these characters, which is always a bad sign.

Every time I went to pick up this book, I dreaded it. I held on for a few days, but it's not getting any better. Supposedly there are all these surprises and secrets coming up, but if they're anything like the first chapter, I don't really care to find out. So that's that.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

I adore this series, and A Conspiracy in Belgravia is another fun one to add to the collection. But that adoration does come with some caveats.

First, the good stuff. I love strong female characters, and this series has it in spades. Charlotte Holmes is as clever and intrepid as ever, readily going about her day sussing out secrets left and right without ever missing a beat. It's so refreshing to follow a heroine who, when faced with adversity, is so confident in her abilities that she just uses her wits to get through any and all situations.

The repartee in here is delightful—Victorian, witty, a touch prudish—and I would often find myself lingering, rereading parts just to savor it some more. And I would be remiss if I didn't mention the sizzle between Charlotte and Lord Ingram. Their unrequited love was so sharp and visceral without ever being directly referenced that I had no choice but to swoon.

But I have to be honest. For a mystery series, the mysteries themselves are perhaps its one weakness. There are a few too many characters and subplots, a bit too much complexity in the way of the twists and turns, for this to really be easy to follow along with. And the denouement, in which everything is revealed, doesn't feel so much shocking as vaguely confusing, leaving me wondering where it all came from. Certainly I did not see the twists coming, but I'm not clear how Charlotte was able to either.

Another quibble I have is that not all the points of view were equally riveting. Charlotte, with the force of her personality, steals the show, so whenever we turn away from her to let Inspector Treadles or Livia have a turn, my attention waned. Thankfully, those sections were short, but they did slow the pace a bit for me overall.

But those really are small quibbles, and they don't unduly impact my enjoyment. The characters, their relationships with each other, the nonstop banter in the dialogue, all make this such a charming and interesting read. I hope the too-complex mysteries will get ironed out as the series matures or as we get more familiar with the characters and events at play.

Oh, one more thing to note if you're considering this. The question always comes up if one should read a series in order, and the answer here is a resounding yes! Even though each book has a self-contained mystery, there is so much backstory and character development and relationships throughout the series that to read it out of order would just be a big pile of confusion. And I do speak from personal experience, having done just that on my first go-around and lived to regret it until I finally completed my reread in the correct order.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

This is it, my moment of reckoning, and in some ways I long for it.

If characters make or break a story, then it's easy to see why Broken Country has stolen so many hearts.

I didn't really know what to expect going in. When a book is labeled as both a love story and a thriller, with promises of secrets and love triangles and death, it can easily go off the rails in the hands of the wrong author. It can slip into a soap opera, with drama for drama's sake and emotions for emotion's sake. But thank goodness that didn't happen here.

The writing was filled with so much nuance and skill, to fall into the world within was but a foregone conclusion. It took me a few chapters to really get settled, but once I did, I was fully immersed. Every scene felt vividly portrayed, every character sketched in sharp relief. It was as if I was really there, soaring with every joy and suffering through every pain.

I can't get over these characters. To say they were likable would perhaps be a step too far, but I did connect with each and every one of them. I could see bits and pieces of myself laid bare on the pages, in the precipice of the characters' decisions and in the overwhelming emotions that drove them there. They rang so true and touched me so deeply, I'm still reeling in the aftermath.

I have to take a moment to emphasis just how immersive this story was. Sometimes it feels like that's all I talk about, but that's because for me, it's just about the most important quality in a story. There's nothing worse than reading something that isn't grabbing me, while my mind checks out and tallies up chores I have to do and bills I have to pay. So when I come across a truly immersive story, I get pretty darn excited.

The narrative unfolds as a triple timeline. We spend the majority of time in the past and in the leadup to the shooting, and only a little bit of time on the trial. Looking back on it, I can see why the author chose to tell the story the way she did, and it was as effective as it was riveting.

A big deal always gets made about twists and turns whenever we're talking about a mystery, so I just want to set expectations correctly. I think if you're a mystery/thriller enthusiastic, you probably won't be that surprised here (and I wasn't). But on the other hand, if you don't read a lot of the genre, then perhaps there will be a few unexpected developments throughout. But no matter which way you land, it doesn't take away from the enjoyment of this story.

Phew, that's a lot of praise, and hopefully it hasn't scared you off, if you know what I mean. There is a certain category of books out there that seems to attract effusive compliments from readers and award-giving committees alike, but when you try to read it for yourself, they somehow come across as dull as dishwater. Or even worse, they're trauma porn out to batter your emotions simply for better ratings. But that's not this book. This book is as compulsive and unputdownable as they come, and I dare you not to read it in one go.

I think this book set out to achieve the unachievable—to be a love story and a mystery/thriller, a character driven study while being fast-paced, quiet and moving and yet still an utter delight to read—and it somehow managed to achieve them all. What a feat.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

I hate to say it, but this isn't sci-fi. It's more of a mystery/thriller and an overly sappy one at that. And I guess I just wasn't in the mood for such a thing.

The premise is certainly enticing. Four strangers travel to the past to revisit the day their lives changed forever. They were only supposed to be there for an hour, but soon find themselves trapped for days and days. And when their paths start to cross, they realize maybe they aren't the strangers they thought they were.

No complaints from me about the way this story kicked off. I found the initial chapters with the four different characters to be riveting, and I settled in, thinking I was well on my way to a unique and fascinating read. But then as the characters' lives began to intersect, I started to get the feeling that maybe this isn't the mind blowing speculative fiction I thought it was going to be.

The problem is that we start near the end of the timeline, so we already know most of what happens, if not the how. Then we jump three years into the past and slowly fill everything in. This structure makes it so that by about halfway through the book, all the pieces are in place and we have a pretty solid idea of how it will all play out. After that, there are no more surprises. From then on, the book proceeds to spell out in long form what is already obvious.

I don't have to have surprise after surprise in the books I'm reading, but to remove all elements of the unknown does mean a book would have to work extra hard to keep my attention. And unfortunately, this one didn't quite succeed.

It doesn't help that I can't seem to connect with these characters. No matter how difficult and complex their problems—and they had some gnarly ones for sure—every single one of them was resolved neatly and with much emotional fanfare. Every single character got their moment of enlightenment, and that one scene, one conversation was all it took for them to be happy and fulfilled.

Maybe I'm a cold hearted reader, but I just don't buy it. There is no way real people would behave like that. It's ludicrous to think that no matter what losses we suffer, be it our children or our limbs, that we would only need to hug it out before resuming our normal lives. And these pivotal scenes were often padded with so much saccharine mush to up the emotional ante that I had a lot of trouble keeping my focus.

What happened to finding out more about the time traveling tech or the glitch that stranded these travelers in the first place? It was such a disappointment to come to the end of this book and realize that those questions would never be answered. Clearly, the time traveling was just a way for the author to tell her story in a slightly different, nonlinear way and once that was done, the plot device could be tossed aside and forgotten.

Sometimes when a book isn't what I'm expecting, I can still adjust and end up enjoying it. But in this case, there just wasn't enough of what I wanted and too much of what I didn't want for that to happen.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

Well, fuck me. This was about the most lackluster astronaut book I've ever read.

You have to understand, I'm a huge space nerd. I've read countless books on NASA, space exploration, astronauts, the shuttle program; you name it, I've read it. In fact, if we were to stack rank random topics, all my top spots would be taken up by everything space. So when I heard one of my favorite authors was writing a book about one of my favorite topics, I about fainted.

But right off the bat, I could tell something was off. We open with the most climactic, pivotal scene of the story. It should've grabbed me with the force of a thousand suns, but it didn't. It somehow was both too detailed and also not enough, throwing what seemed like twenty new characters at me in the span of two pages while lacking the technical details that would've convinced me we really were in the midst of a space mission. It left me feeling more confused than anything else.

Since this is a dual timeline, we then proceed to alternate between this climactic scene and the seven years leading up to it as Joan becomes a full-fledged astronaut. And while I did enjoy Joan's journey of finding herself and growing through her relationships, I can't help but feel that something was lacking here too. There was so little time spent on her actual astronaut training and so much time spent on her personal life, that it felt like I was reading generic women's lit instead of the singular, exciting story I was promised.

I zoned out constantly. There were so many characters (all introduced around the same time and none of whom stood out) that I had trouble keeping everyone straight in my head. And what should've been the exciting, technical, space portions of the book were replaced by seemingly endless discussions about constellations (my love for space does not extend to star configurations, it seems) and pseudo-philosophical chitchats about the meaning of life. I was worn down.

But even the lack of an astronaut story aside, this still had the feeling of being aggressively bland while also being overly emotional. Every scene in this book—from the contents of the pivotal scene, to the intercutting of it throughout the book, to Joan's relationships with Vanessa and Frances, to all the meaning of life chats—felt like it was set up for maximum emotional hit, almost superficially so. And while I'm not opposed to being emotionally manipulated, this book did it so openly and so obviously that I can't help but cry foul.

Looking back, I should've known my expectations were too high and I was bound for disappointment. It says right there on the cover that this is "a love story" after all. But the heart wants what it wants, and mine wanted an astronaut story, damn it.

In my defense though, what was I supposed to think? Andy Weir blurbed for this book, for crying out loud! And after Carrie Soto, in which TJR managed to take the complex, technical game of tennis and make it absolutely mesmerizing to us plebs who know nothing about the game, I thought she could write anything. After all, Carrie Soto was amazing because TJR didn't shy away from including all of its technical intricacies, not in spite of it.

So of course I thought lightning would strike twice, and TJR would do so again here. I thought I would get the perfect symbiosis of astronaut and woman, technical and emotional, science and love. But instead, the astronaut part of the story was so watered down that it felt almost like an afterthought and we'd have pretty much the same story if Joan had chosen some other career.

Clearly, I wasn't the right audience for this book. My thoughts are decidedly in the minority, and I'm pretty sure my issues here are exactly why so many other readers loved it. So don't let me dissuade you. But do set your expectations correctly before going in—this is a love story, not an astronaut story.

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

Helen Hoang has a real knack for taking a fairly fluffy genre and elevating it to something more.

It starts with the characters. Every single one of her characters feels so genuine and so sharp that they just jump off the pages, and Esme and Khai are no different. They each have their own problems, yet they remain so inherently kind and sweet throughout that I can't help but adore them.

Esme, in particular, resonated with me so much. She's an immigrant in a foreign land trying to make a better life for herself and her family. She doesn't know what to do a lot of the time, but she does know hard work will pay off and she doesn't shy away from it. She's fierce and determined, and even when things aren't going well, she doesn't give up. She's exactly the kind of female character I can look up to and cheer for.

And Esme and Khai's scenes together were so sweet and sizzling. This is a slow burn romance, so don't expect anything to happen too quickly. Instead, the respect and affection and trust slowly builds up between them, and it's so satisfying to see.

Hoang continues to win with her neurodivergent rep. Khai's character is so thoughtfully and lovingly constructed, you can't help but feel she must've drawn from personal experience and put a bit of herself in him.

But reader beware, for this story isn't all light and fun. In fact, there are some serious topics being tackled here, including the loss of a loved one and unresolved grief. So please tread carefully if you're sensitive to that.

This was such an easy story to fall into. The writing feels effortless, and the way the story unfolds so easily and organically, you're just pulled along for the ride. I totally inhaled it. I'm absolutely loving Helen Hoang's sweet and steamy romances, and I can't wait for more.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Calling all mystery fans! Here's one you're not going to want to miss.

Can a mystery be laid out such that all the clues you need to solve it are in a few drawings? Sure, if it's simple. But what about an intricate, multi-part, multi-crime mystery? Well, here comes Strange Pictures to show us exactly how it's done.

On the surface, this seems like a straightforward concept. We're presented with a series of drawings and seemingly unrelated mysteries. The drawings contain clues, which allow deductions to be made and secrets to be unearthed, until the entire mystery of this story is completely unraveled.

And yet, beneath the surface is this fascinating and surprisingly complex puzzle. It's my favorite type of mystery, where everything you need to solve it exists right before your eyes. The drawings contain all the necessary clues, so I happily donned my detective hat and proceeded to stare really hard at all of them.

But it's not just the mechanics of the mystery that had me impressed. It was also the way the author captured the psychology and emotions behind the crimes. The quiet understatedness of the writing puts the current of unease squarely at the center of attention, and the result is about as compelling as they come.

Needless to say, I was utterly riveted. I feel like I could've easily read this in one sitting if I had the chance. As it was, I gobbled it up as fast as I could, and my mind is still reeling from the way it all came together.

The only thing that held me back from picking this up sooner was the horror aspect. A big deal has been made about how spine-tingling it is, and I'm not afraid to admit I'm a big wimp. You throw in some eerie sketches, and I wasn't sure I could do it. But thankfully, it was all good. I didn't find it scary, only a bit sinister and macabre.

Mystery has got to be the genre I read more than any other. I feel like at this point, I've seen it all and heard it all, and nothing really surprises me anymore. So when a book comes along that amazes me not only with its story but also how it's told, I tend to get pretty darn excited.

And this book certainly did. Don't miss it.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars