On the one hand, I did have some fun with this one. But on the other hand, shouldn't these characters be in therapy instead of a romcom?

Let me preface this by saying that my opinion here is decidedly in the minority. I see so much love for this book, so I'm inclined to think this is probably a me-problem and not a book-problem. I'm getting to that cynical old age when I should stop reading romances about silly young 'uns and move onto more serious novels about geriatric leads.

But since you're still here, I might as well tell you my thoughts.

First, the good. The premise of this book is a lot of fun, about a romance author all romanced-out and pretending for her readers. There is a lot of trope awareness within the pages, so it almost feels a bit meta as you're reading it. I also thought the banter was top notch, and it definitely had me chuckling along.

But then, the not so good. I feel like this book took every possible minor issue that the characters could have had and laid it on so thick, it robbed any semblance of reality from the story. Find out your favorite romance author doesn't believe in happily ever after? Cancel her. Caring for an ill loved one? Why not make it almost Munchausen by proxy. Love someone but can't physically be in the same location? Don't even consider long distance, just call it quits and wallow in self-pity.

It's hard to take a story seriously when it's so over the top on everything. I understand that to have a story at all, there needs to be conflicts and resolutions. And yes, sometimes one has to stretch the conflicts a bit in order to have a story last the requisite 300 pages to be called a book. But this one went so hard to town with just about everything, it started to feel vaguely farcical.

And this nuttiness extended to the characters too. At the center is Margot, the most beautiful and successful female lead ever, yet so full of self-doubt that she needs constant reassurance from everyone around her, which she manifests as rudeness and brattiness and borderline harassment.

"No, Forrest, you listen. You gave me every indication that you were interested. I thought maybe we could have a little fun in this godforsaken place, but since that's obviously not something you're capable of, I'm happy to find it somewhere else."

Yikes, talk about a red flag! Then there is Forrest, yet another one of those doormat male leads, existing solely to fall in love with and bolster up our female lead, no matter how poorly she behaves. I cringed so hard in embarrassment for them both, my cheeks were permanently pink while reading this.

And the cherry on top? They were both caring for ill loved ones, but to a degree that was so extreme, these said loved ones had to formulate complicated plans to extricate themselves from this unwelcome, excessive style of smothering and guilt/self-conflagration. My eyes rolleth out of my head, my friends.

At its core, in order for me to buy into a romance, I have to believe that people can fall in love with the main characters, and it just didn't happen here. It's one thing to suspend disbelief, and I'm happy to do so for pretty much every book I read. But the way Margot and Forrest were written, they were just a step too far beyond disbelief for me.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating 5 stars!

My first Freida McFadden! And while I wasn't as enamored with The Housemaid as most readers were, I did find it decently entertaining.

To start, I can totally see why people talk about this book as being bingeworthy. It has all the hallmarks of a one-sit read, with short chapters, lots of dialogue, and dramatic developments one after another so you can't look away. There's this perpetual feeling that you can read just one more page, and before you know it, you've read the whole book.

But that isn't to say this is the most original story ever. There were definitely moments as I was reading this that I had the strongest sense of déjà vu, as if I've read the same exact thing somewhere else before. The book cheerfully employs several common thriller elements, and while there is nothing wrong with that, it does make it feel like the story had no real surprises, especially if you've read a lot of thrillers like I have.

One thing I found interesting—and I'm not sure if this was done on purpose—was the humor. On the one hand, the story seemed extremely earnest throughout, with every character and every point of view being serious in the way that thrillers always are. But on the other hand, there were moments when everything was so over the top that it felt like the author must be leaning into it, having a bit of fun at the reader and the story, all in one go.

A lot of reviews mention the bad writing, and I feel like that's a little bit unfair. It isn't that the writing here is bad so much as it is very simplistic. Let me put it this way—my two-year-old was curious about what mama was reading, so I obliged by reading a random passage to him. And he was riveted. He wouldn't let me stop. He even chose this book as his bedtime story three nights in a row! His favorite parts were the discussions about things being clean/dirty, the stormy weather, and the scene with the garbage truck. So there you go, if my toddler can follow along just fine, I think that tells you something.

Was this story entertaining? Yes. But it also left me feeling vaguely unsatisfied, having fulfilled none of my reading cravings. It's the sort of story I was into while reading it, but as soon as I put it down, I had no real desire to pick it back up again. I didn't really care about the characters, I could see where the story was going from a mile away, and reading through it felt like spelling out in long form something I already knew.

The thing is, there is a marked difference between a book keeping your attention because you just happen to have it open versus one you would actively seek out to read. And unfortunately for me, this was too much the former and not enough of the latter.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

I have an urgent need to fix this, but I don't know how.

Hmm let's think about this now. Hey, I know! How about you just tell the truth?

Ah yes, the dreaded miscommunication trope. You dress it up with some slump-inducing descriptive prose, make every character act as weird and paranoid as possible, throw in some instalove, and you have Wild Dark Shore.

But before I really get into it, I just want to say that my opinion here is decidedly in the minority. I see nothing but love for this book, so please take my thoughts with a grain of salt (har har).

When I think of literary fiction, what I'm looking for above all else is convincing characters. I want ones that feel authentic, poignant, and really force me to think about the human condition. I'm not looking for one-dimensional, loony, paranoid characters I could easily find in the most eye-rolling of thrillers. But that's exactly what I got here.

None of the characters' actions that drove the mystery part of this story made any sense. Every bad thing that happened in here can be traced back to the two main characters not talking about one essential topic. Instead, we get a lot of jumpy paranoia between the two of them that magically morphs into... instalust? Okay sure, you got me. I, too, often find myself unable to stop wanting to jump the bones of someone I suspect is trying to kill me.

But it's more than that. I really couldn't connect with any of the characters at all. I didn't like how dismissive Rowan was of her husband and his views, all the while complaining that he couldn't see her side. I didn't like how the book portrayed Hank or mental illness. I didn't like how Dominic reads like a male character written by a female author. None of them really rang true, and it was hard for me to overcome that deficit.

The topic of climate change is a big part of this story and while I appreciate Charlotte McConaghy tackling such an important issue, I feel like it was awkwardly done and lacked subtlety. It often came across as if the author was trying to club me on the head with it, going so far as to include nonfiction passages of nature spoken through the voice of a nine-year-old. To say it felt inauthentic and took me out of the story is an understatement. I wish the author had gone for a more subtle approach, trusting that the reader will follow her, instead of hammering her messages into my head over and over again.

I do feel like the story started to shape into something with emotional resonance towards the last third of the book, and the scene with the whale and her baby was particularly well-done. But then as we progress towards the denouement, we again lost subtlety in favor hamfistedness in the form of a certain development near the end. It felt unnecessary to the story, as if it was put there simply for emotional manipulation, to tug on the heartstrings and wring as much emotion from the reader as possible.

I don't know what else to say other than I feel extremely disappointed with my reading experience. I think this is a case where my expectations just weren't in line with reality. What I wanted was a character-driven mystery with elements of climate change that would really bring something new to the table and leave me with food for thought. What I got instead was some mishmash of eye-rolling domestic thriller and dull descriptive prose, two things sure to put me into a slump.

But hey, what do I know? Like I said, everyone else is loving this, so don't let my grouchiness dissuade you from giving it a try.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

I did not know how it was possible to keep missing them when they were right here.

A striking, poignant tale about loving and longing, A Curse for the Homesick didn't just sweep me away. It left me aching for a place I've never been and people I've never met.

Tess has lived in Stenland all her life. When she was twelve during skeld season, her mom accidentally killed Soren's parents by turning them to stone. For that and many other reasons, Tess wants to leave Stenland and never come back, so she knows falling in love with Soren is not in her cards. But try as they might, they are inexplicably drawn to each other. Soon they must decide what they are willing to risk to be together and what they are willing to give up to stay away.

From the first page, this lyrical tale drew me in. There was a unique quality to the writing that made it both deeply moving and eminently readable. To turn the pages of this book is to step into another world, one almost like ours but with some slight differences. And those differences underpin the crux of this emotive tale.

Usually with coming of age or love stories, the young protagonists always manage to annoy me at one point or another—if not whole way through—with their immaturity and endless drama, but not so here. I could relate as much to Tess's certainty that she couldn't stay as to Soren's belief that he cannot leave his homeland. Their anguish felt genuine and poignant, ringing true on all fronts.

I have to give props to the way magical realism is handled in here. We never get stuck in overly convoluted explanations, never mired in the weeds of the how's and the why's. The magical realism is simply the tool to explore whether it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, and it does so to perfection.

The setting and the characters in here are all so vivid, it was hard to remember at times that this place and these characters aren't actually real. I found myself mulling over Stenland and its skeld curse, wondering if I could pinpoint the exact location on a map if I were to look it up.

About the lyrical writing, I feel like I have to say something so potential readers don't get scared away. Because let's be honest, to call a narrative lyrical can be a good thing and a bad thing. It's good because who doesn't love beautiful writing? But it also brings to mind slow moving and excessively descriptive prose, there to exhaust even the most enthusiastic of readers. Thankfully, there's no such fears here. There is a sharpness to the writing and a wittiness to the dialogue that infuses every page with a sparkle and urgency, and we never lose the momentum of a well-paced story.

I can't remember the last time a book managed to achieve so much—beautiful writing, witty banter, a compelling plot, characters with so much depth and emotions—all in one narrative. And it does so with a poignancy so visceral, it's guaranteed to stay with you long after the story is done.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars