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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

But then when the anger fades, the sadness comes right back again the same as ever.

Oh my word! Anne Tyler, where have you been all my life?

On the surface, this seems like such a simple story. We follow Gail Baines on the eve of her daughter's wedding, where everything is set to go off without a hitch. So then why does Gail feel somewhat disappointed that she wasn't invited to the bridal spa day, whatever that is? On top of that, she has just found out that she might be losing her job at age sixty-one. And then Gail's ex-husband shows up at her house with a cat in tow, and it really is starting to feel like more than she bargained for.

What a understated, yet poignant little novella this turned out to be. While not much happens on the surface, it feels so sharp and observant underneath. Every scene is one lifted out of everyday life, but infused with so much meaning and emotion and humor. And together, they constitute a glimpse into a life well-lived but also one full of human follies.

Maybe one reason this works so well is that the author chose to keep it short. It's a novella, so the story doesn't go on longer than there is content for. It's as long as it needs to be, and then it's wrapped up. So every scene in here feels like it was put there with meaning and impact.

I loved the messages in here, that every life and every relationship can be joyful but also quietly messy. And that as we grow older, we needn't always remain exactly the same, that there is room and opportunity for change and second chances and discovery and rediscovery. And while such a message and delivery is not nearly as dramatic as most thrillers would have you believe is necessary, the quiet drama in here hits so much harder than those over the top ones ever could.

I cannot believe Anne Tyler has written twenty-five novels, and this is only my first by her. I feel like I have been looking for writing like this for a long time. Even though I am late to the party, I'm glad to have finally arrived. And now I've got her long backlist to keep me busy.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

You even hint at a Beauty and the Beast retelling, and of course I'm there. But not only did this not satisfy my dark fairy tale heart, it didn't even make for a decent story.

Birdie is a single mother to a young girl, and she knows life is tough. She's scraping by working at a bar in Alaska, but all she wants is freedom. When she meets Arthur, it doesn't take long before she realizes he could be the answer to her prayers. She and her daughter move out soon after to live with him in the wilderness. But there is another side to Arthur that Birdie can't acknowledge, and just maybe it's the most dangerous thing of all.

Let's start with the romance. I'll tell you what, romance books catch so much flack for instalove and they've got nothing on what happened here. From the moment Birdie meets Arthur, she incessantly tries to engage with him. After a few awkward, mostly one-sided conversations—you know, cause Arthur's (spoiler: a bear) so he doesn't talk much—Birdie decides that she must really like the guy. So she invites herself and her daughter to live with him at his cabin in the remote wilderness. Hmm, after such an auspicious start, I'm sure nothing bad can happen.

Of course, sex and instalove go hand in hand, so there's Birdie constantly trying to have sex with Arthur. After he runs away from her a few times, they finally succeed, only for the session to be described as if she's having sex with (spoiler: a bear), complete with lots of pawing and biting. The whole thing came off as a bit creepy, not gonna lie. By this point, I'm starting to get a sense that maybe this story isn't going to be all that I was hoping for.

But it isn't just Birdie and Arthur's romance I found icky. I also couldn't stand Birdie as a person. Every issue in this story stemmed from her poor decision making and lack of common sense. She was so self-centered and negligent in parenting, she often left her young child by herself without any warning or provisions. We kept having to read about how poor Emaleen was left stranded by herself yet again, cold and hungry and worried that her mother ran off without her. By the third time, I was pretty much fed up.

Every time I think the story couldn't get any more outlandish or offensive, there is yet another development that has my jaw dropping in shock. The only way this could've worked would be as horror or satire, but unfortunately it's not. It's as earnest literary fiction as they come.

The writing matches the dreary landscape, full of dull paragraphs about the Alaskan wilderness and dialogues that lacked even an ounce of spark. There were many moments I was just skim-reading, hoping desperately for something to catch my attention.

It's such a shame because there were a few scenes of true insightfulness in here, but they were completely overshadowed by the bizarre story. At one point, Birdie was pondering her desire not to miss a single moment with her child versus her need for independence to be her own person. That constant tug and pull of motherhood resonated with me so much, I wanted to cry. Another poignant scene had Warren and Emaleen sitting side by side, finding common ground with each other while taking the moment to appreciate the natural world.

But those two scenes were it. The rest of the story was so bizarre and appalling, I'm at a loss. I kept waiting for it to turn around, to redeem itself, but it only got worse and worse.

What was the author hoping to accomplish here? What was the point of all this? That there is no redemption for anyone? That animals lack humanity and don't deserve second chances? I really don't know. All I know is that this didn't satisfy my fairy tale itch—or even just the itch for a good coherent story. I hated almost every moment of it and am glad to be done.

Readaroo Rating: 1 star

Phew. There was a lot I enjoyed in this story, but also a lot that was a bit too much.

Let's start with the good stuff. The ice dancing! It was fascinating to get a glimpse into this well known, if lesser burnished stepsibling of the figure skating discipline. The competitions, the practice, the sacrifices, the years and years of hard work just for one glorious moment that will live on forever or a mediocre one soon to be forgotten, are all things I can get behind.

I'm loving this recent trend in books of following a fictional athlete, movie star, or musician on their path to superstardom, offering a behind-the-scenes look into their meteoric rise as well as their shocking fall from glory, often using a mixed media format to make the whole thing feel as authentic as possible. Layne Fargo must have done tremendous research into ice dancing to achieve this level of detail, and it makes for a riveting read, one that's hard to look away from.

I thought the first half of the book was about as exciting as they come. I was totally invested in Kat and Heath's journey from kids who loved skating to world-class champions on the international stage. I'm never going to say no to stories about starting from nothing and—through sheer determination and grit, hard work and sacrifices—end up achieving all their hopes and dreams. Those tales will always be special to me.

But even in the first half, I was starting to get an inkling of the things to come that would annoy me. Kat and Heath gave off tragic, melodramatic vibes in pretty much every scene they're in together; the interpersonal relationships of almost all the characters in here whiffed of toxic; and eye-rolling obstacles would pop up right before every major competition, preventing anyone from ever getting the coveted gold medal.

So imagine that, but dialed up even more, and we have now arrived at the second half of this book. Every small quibble I had in the first half was magnified, with more drama, more heartbreak, more miscommunication, more more more. I tell you, my fairly simple drama-free heart couldn't take such overload.

I have to wonder, how did the author come up with so many different yet equally unpleasant characters and manage to squeeze them all into the same story? Their selfishness and interpersonal theatrics led to conflicts popping up left and right, often to lamentable results. And what I loved from the first half, the ice dancing, was forced to take a backseat.

But that isn't the crux of the issue. Where this really went off the rails for me was its confusion over exactly what type of story it was trying to be. Was this meant to be a realistic sports docudrama or an over-the-top psychological thriller? For one is meant to depict things so realistic that we forget what we're reading is fiction, while the other requires us to suspend our disbelief in order to ingest as much craziness as we can.

And so this story tries to straddle both, expecting the reader to suspend disbelief while also expecting us to take everything we read as gospel. And that just didn't work for me. The lead up to the climax, in particular, was so eye-popping looney, I totally lost my ability to buy into this story.

My thoughts are decidedly in the minority here, so don't let me dissuade you. I think if you're looking for a salacious bonanza and you're able to buy into it no matter how wacky the tale gets, this is a good one for you. I guarantee you won't be able to put it down.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars