"Why aren’t we all just fucking dead, really? It is most troubling to me."

Ah yes, it has been a bit. But it also feels like no time at all has passed since I was last in the company of my favorite investigative duo.

There's nothing quite like picking up the second book of a promising series. Of course there's tons of excitement and anticipation, but if I were being totally honest, there's also no small amount of doubt coloring the whole thing. After all, what if I imagined my enjoyment of the first book? What if what I took for brilliance and intrigue was in fact mediocrity catching me on a good day? But have no fears here, my friends, for A Drop of Corruption was every bit as good as its predecessor.

Let's talk about the mystery first. As usual, we are immediately dropped into the thick of things. A treasury officer has disappeared, but he did so in a room where all the doors and windows are locked from the inside. Hmm, so a proper locked-room mystery? Challenge accepted!

But that was just the start, and perhaps the easiest part. Because from then on, Ana and Din follow an ever more complex web of secrets and red herrings and misdirections, all building up towards the big finale. And what a finale it was, as satisfying and inevitable as you would expect from the best mysteries.

Speaking of, if you've read enough of this genre and have thought about its inner workings, then you know what makes a good mystery—they can be as complicated and intricate as you'd want along the way, but when you get to the reveals, they must be clear and straightforward, as if you’re uttering nothing more than the unavoidable truth. And Robert Jackson Bennett has not only cracked the crux of this principle, but he is able to execute on it again and again.

The writing is as sharp and engaging as ever, with a hint of the droll wit that I've come to associate with this series and its characters. It pulled me in and kept me riveted throughout. Normally with a book, when I put it down and then picked it up again, it takes me a few pages to return to the world inside. But with this book, my mind snaps to it immediately, never wandering, never wavering as I devoured the tale within.

By the way, did we see that the series rebranded from Shadow of the Leviathan to Ana and Din Mysteries? I'm so glad. The old name felt a bit lumbering and awkward, misleading you into thinking that the books were predominantly fantasy instead of what they really are, which is mystery forward in a fantasy setting. But the new name corrects that, making it clear that this is first and foremost a mystery, with our eponymous characters at the helm, sussing out all manners of secrets and depravity across the Empire.

All that is to say, if you're a fan of mysteries and have been holding off on this series because of its fantasy element, let me give you a nudge. The mystery components in here are so well done, it would be remiss for any fan of the genre to miss it. But on the other hand, if you're already a reader of both genres and just haven't gotten to this series yet, well, what the heck are you waiting for?

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

"Blood is one thing. The sight is another. But courage—that is rarest of all, Vasilisa Petrovna."

A dark, lush, achingly beautiful tale set against the coldest winters of a bygone Russia, The Bear and the Nightingale swept me away with its unforgettable characters and lyrical prose, and in the process, completely captivated my heart.

There's no feeling like picking up the first book of a fantasy series, especially one rooted in mythology and folklore. I know I will be transported to a land and time far away, full of magic and monsters and of course, the forces of good and evil fighting it out over the soul of mankind. And such was the story here, though it surpassed all my expectations.

The setting of medieval Russia and the coming of age of a girl who must cast off the chains of womanhood to achieve greatness made this feel like a tale both old and new. Our heroine Vasilisa is the heart of this story. She is so strong and fierce and courageous, even in the face of unimaginable obstacles. Following her journey and cheering her on as she stands between her home and the evil monsters bent on destroying it was an absolute delight.

The prose was sublime, and I say that as someone who's not normally fussy about such things. I'd happily take some ugly writing in exchange for a fantastic plot. But thankfully, no such tradeoff was needed here. Every line felt carefully crafted, bringing the story to life with a vividness that was not to be denied. I frequently found myself lingering, rereading sentences and passages much too beautiful to savor only once.

Often, fantasy can come across as a bit juvenile, especially if they feature a protagonist in their teens or early twenties, making the whole thing feel more YA than adult. But the author managed to sidestep that quagmire here, sketching Vasilisa with such elegant restraint and only glancing at the sort of romantic and melodramatic notions that frequently drag down other narratives in similar situations.

Two quick words of caution. One, the book very much sticks to the authentic Russian naming and nicknaming system, so the same character was often called different things by different people. This led to some confusion the first time I read it, but on reread, I had no problems. I think the different names threw me off the first time, but if you're aware going in, hopefully you'll be able to figure them out via context with minimal issues.

Two, this has a bit of a slow start. It isn't one of those stories that roars into action from the get-go. In fact, a lot of its charm lays in its gradual development as we immerse ourselves in the atmosphere and the land and its people. It isn't until a third of the way in that the action moves to the forefront and the plot really starts to reveal itself.

I am in awe of this story, all the more so because it is Katherine Arden's debut. Now that it's whet my appetite, there's no way I can stop. I want more of its wintery magic and the fierce heroine within who defies all odds. It's a good thing this isn't a standalone, and there are still two more books to come to satisfy my cravings.

"Tell us of the frost-demon, the winter-king Karachun. He is abroad tonight, and angry at the thaw."

Readaroo Rating: 4.5 stars

"Everyone believes their own cause is noble."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating: 4.5 ⭐

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating 5 stars!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

Can you really fill 500 pages with nothing but posturing and dithering, and call it a book? Apparently you can.

What the heck happened here? Was Rebecca Yarros kidnapped and an imposter wrote this book? Did she crack under the pressure and had to ChatGPT it? Because this doesn't resemble at all the series I've come to know and love, and I'm left pretty speechless (well, not so speechless that I can't rant).

Let's start by asking the most crucial question of all: did anything of consequence actually happen in this book? And the answer is unfortunately no. No plot was furthered, no stakes were raised. In fact, the end of the book is where I thought it would begin, so you can imagine my bewilderment at all the pages in between.

So what were these hundreds of pages filled with? Endless scenes of Violet and Xaden declaring how much they love each other (yeah, we get it) while throwing a fit at anyone who dare disagree (wah wah), interspersed with political intrigue that didn't amount to anything (who are these randos?) and quests that didn't amount to anything either (who even cares).

Where is the tension of the first book? Where are the jaw-dropping reveals of the second? But what the third book lacks from the first two, it amply made up by being inexplicably confusing. There were so many needless characters and locations mentioned, none of which really mattered. I kept flipping back and forth to the map, trying and failing to discern what it is I'm meant to take away from those moments.

Every scene in the first book felt essential and memorable, and the same could be said for the second book (minus the ones related to Violet and Xaden's mind-numbing conflicts). And yet, I come to a close on the third book and can hardly point to even one thing in here that stood out. Honestly, I barely remember what happened because nothing actually did.

And in place of real developments, we get non-reveals disguised under intentionally obscure writing. Instead of calling something or someone by its name, we get treated to vague pronouns like "it", "he", and "she", only for the subject to be divulged many pages later once the reader is good and befuddled. And each time this happened, it was treated like a reveal, as if we readers are too dumb to notice we've been had.

Violet and Xaden's interactions border on insufferable in here. What made their relationship compelling in the first book was the intrigue of enemies-to-lovers. That quickly started wearing thin in the second book, and by the time we get to this one, all the shine had fallen off. The trope is over and done with two books ago, so why is Yarros still harping on it? After all, there's a reason why lovers-who-can't-stand-to-be-apart isn't a trope, and it's because no one wants to read that whiny crap.

Just to cement how far this has deviated from the series I love, we only need to look at the end of this book. What I expected was to be wowed by a supremely shocking development on the fantasy side, something to tide me over for the next however many years it will take Yarros to write the next book. Instead, we get a trivial update on Violet and Xaden's relationship, presented as if it's the sort of epiphany that will keep me coming back for book 4. No, thanks.

At one point while trudging through this, I started to doubt myself and my love for the series, wondering if I'd imagined the whole thing and was just caught up in the hype. Then in a moment of confusion, I went to look something up in the first book and was immediately and thoroughly sucked in, only managing to tear myself away two hours later. Reading them side by side, the difference in the quality and immersiveness of the two books is stark and dispiriting. And when I would rather reread a book I'd already read in the series than the shiny new installment, you know something is terribly wrong.

Which brings us to the question of why does this book even exist in the first place. Did Yarros think this was an essential tale that needed to be told, but it somehow went off the rails during the writing process? Did she take inspiration from Peter Jackson and The Hobbit and try to squeeze as many books as possible out of the smallest amount of content? Or did she get talked into a five-parter by her publishing team against her better judgement? Whatever the reason, I can't help but think this book is such a poor showing, surely many of her readers will not continue from here.

It isn't just that this book is filler. It's that it's such trite, garbled, confused filler as to make me lose confidence in the author and her ability to deliver the rest of the series. This book not only reeks of confusion for the reader, but it also seems like Yarros herself is confused too, as if even she doesn't know where her series is going. And that is disheartening indeed.

When I first started this series, I went in with some trepidation. Rebecca Yarros comes from a romance background, so I thought there was a chance she wouldn't be able to balance fantasy and romance in the same story. I was afraid that she would prioritize the romance to the detriment of the fantasy, and three books in, my worst fears are realized. Maybe her original fanbase is thrilled by this book, but as a reader who got hooked on Fourth Wing primarily because of its fantasy badassery—dragons, signets, heroes and heroines, you name it—this book doesn't deliver any of what I wanted.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

Did we all read the same book? Because this was... not good.

In general, I feel like fantasy is a genre I can rely on. Give me an interesting premise, a half-decent execution, some badass heroes and heroines, and I'm pleased as punch. And yet, here comes One Dark Window, making me rethink my entire love for this genre. Because I'm hard pressed to point to even one thing that I truly enjoyed in here.

Let's start with our characters. Wow, were they dumb. Elspeth could barely do anything without first being told, whether it's to be quiet or to run. She and her merry band of allies make one misstep after another, including rushing into battles they shouldn't and distracting each other during crucial moments. I have a hard time believing these characters could even function, let alone save the kingdom.

Neither were they likable, especially our heroine. Elspeth is about the weakest protagonist to have ever graced a fantasy. She gets so easily offended at everything, hates every person she sees, and is constantly tearing up from hurt feelings. Boo hoo. She also seems unable to eat, losing her appetite at every meal, poor thing. But perhaps I'm too quick to judge, and what I attribute to her unlikable personality is simply because she is hangry?

The supporting characters aren't much better, and together, there is this feeling that it's a group of idiots just trampling around getting themselves into trouble. But not to worry, because the villains aren't any smarter either. At one point, one of our good guys gets into an argument with one of the bad guys, and—no joke, you guys—the argument was decided by glaring. Like the one who glared harder and longer was the victor and the other was forced to lower his gaze in shame.

Or another of my favorite scenes—one of our villains forces our merry band to play a game where everyone is compelled by magic to tell the truth, and each can have a turn asking a question of every other person. Ah, I could feel the tension in the air, for here's the moment when the truth will be revealed. And then comes the questions—who wants to marry who, who is better looking, who loves who. I tell you, I shriveled up and died a little on the inside.

The worldbuilding feels both so detailed that you suffer from information overload (why so many cards and characters?), but also not sharp enough that you really feel immersed in the universe. The way information is parsed out, one teeny tiny bit at a time, is to maximize the reveals later on, so you're often confused for no good reason in the meantime. And when the reveals finally do happen, they weren't even that surprising.

Of course, this wouldn't be a romantasy without the requisite romance and the one in here is about as bland as they come. Why were Elspeth and Ravyn attracted to each other? The book certainly doesn't make it clear. And not only that, but when they do finally come together, there is quite the ick factor because of The Nightmare in her head, watching the whole thing. Eww!

You know the scene that really cemented my disillusionment with this book though? When a character was cold (not magically cold, mind you, just cold from being outside for too long), and one of our idiots used a Scythe card to warm them up. Never mind that using magic costs the wielder irreparable damage. That I can look overlook. What I can't overlook is that the Scythe card doesn't work that way. It changes someone's emotions, not what they actually are (as the book had already explained at length). So instead of actually warming up the poor dope, they just made them think they feel warmer.

I have to draw the line somewhere, and when the magic system is written so wishy washy and without sharpness that even the author got herself confused, that's when I finally realized this book isn't going to cut it

Now, if you're wondering if you should give this a go, I suggest you read the version that everyone else read and definitely not the one that I did. Good luck.

Readaroo Rating: 2 stars

Can a cozy fantasy be too cozy? Unfortunately, the answer here is yes.

When I think of a cozy fantasy, what I want is to be swept away in a story that's warm and comforting, but also compelling. And that last part is perhaps especially important since it can often be hard to achieve the right balance in this cozy genre. Because no matter how seemingly low stakes a tale may be, there must still be some depth and things of importance on the line. And for me, The Teller of Small Fortunes just never quite got there.

It pains me to say that my mind wandered constantly. The story failed to grab me, not in the beginning, nor in the middle, and not even eventually in the end when we get to the most exciting scenes. It lacked that all-important tension throughout, without which nothing really propelled the story forward.

It doesn't help that we had no permanent setting. Instead, Tao and her friends go from one town to the next. Each chapter brings a new location, so it felt like a string of short stories instead of one cohesive whole. Even though there were a few overarching goals for the merry band of travelers, they somehow felt very diluted and lacked the weight necessary to hold the story together.

Even the dialogue felt very low stakes, with no actual conflicts or surprises at play. As you enter each conversation, it's clear where it's going, and indeed it goes there. The way the characters talk to each other doesn't hold the authenticity of real, distinct people. Instead, it feels like an approximation of what dialogue should be, but cozified so that everyone talks the same and it achieves the warm fuzzy feeling without any of the give and take of real conversation.

And when we finally reach the end, that felt like a letdown too. All the overarching conflicts were instantly resolved, without any pushback or depth or even the slightest unexpectedness. It just felt so insubstantial after the whole journey.

Maybe it's me and this style of cozy isn't to my taste. A friend read this and greatly enjoyed it, as did the majority of readers for this book. So take my thoughts with a grain of salt and don't let me dissuade you, especially if you're a fan of this cozy genre.

Readaroo Rating: 2.5 stars

I feared both men and spirits now. I had no allies, only enemies on all sides.

A magnificent retelling, The Night Ends with Fire isn't the Mulan legend of your Disney youth, that's for sure.

Meilin has grown up under the thumb of her oppressive father all her life. Soon he plans to sell her for her dowry to another violent man who will treat her the same. When war comes to the Three Kingdoms, Meilin seizes her chance and enlists in the army as a man. But as she gains skills and confidence and the power of a spirit, she begins to wonder if her duplicity will hold and how far she's really willing to go to secure her freedom.

Let me just gush for a second here. I had such an amazing time with this story. It's exactly the sort I adore, with a badass heroine and a high stakes conflict where everything is on the line. There is no easy victory, only hard choices, and every character is some shade of morally gray.

I feel like Disney's Mulan was a bit too goody two-shoes (as is typical of Disney), so I'm really glad this book turned that on its head. Meilin certainly isn't good through and through. Instead, she must balance her desire for freedom and power with her duty to her kingdom and her love for her family. There was a rawness and courage to Meilin that makes it easy to like her and relate to her, even if I didn't always understand or agree with her decisions.

In fact, it's not just Meilin's character that's interesting and complex. It's almost every character in this book. Their moral ambiguity is a large part of why they come across as real and interesting. There is no straightforward path when it comes to war, no high road to take on the way to victory. There is only bloodshed and sacrifice and death, and this tale certainly doesn't shy away from that.

The writing in here is evocative and easy to fall into. I feel like I was sucked in from the very first page. To me, there is no higher compliment and no greater quality in a book than immersiveness, and this story has it in spades. I wanted to gobbled it up but also savor it slowly so that I didn't reach the end too soon.

This is categorized as romantasy, and I would say it's mostly fantasy with just a bit of romance sprinkled in, exactly how I like it. The fantasy world is vivid and easy to grasp without a lot of complex worldbuilding. And the light romance should appeal to readers who aren't big fans of it or don't care for lots of explicit scenes.

One interesting thing to note are the names in here. When you translate names between different languages, you have the choice of going phonetically or contextually. Phonetically is generally considered more authentic, but you lose the meaning behind the names. Here, the author chose to do a mix of both. While at first it was a little odd to have names in pinyin like "Meilin" next to "Sky" and "Sparrow", I did grow to appreciate that it gave context where otherwise there would be none and helped to distinguish the characters for an English-speaking audience.

Same could also be said for including some Chinese phrases mixed in in an English book. When the meaning is unclear, the author often put the pinyin and the English side-by-side, so that really the phrase is duplicated. I can see the purists getting up in arms over it, claiming that it's sufficient just to include the pinyin and leave it at that. So what if the audience it's intended for doesn't understand? But that's just silly. While I'm all for authenticity, I'm happy with the balance the author struck so that no one has to miss out.

What an exhilarating tale this turned out to be. I originally picked it up because the luminous cover and pretty sprayed edges totally captured my attention, and I wasn't about to pass up a Mulan retelling. While judging a book by its cover doesn't always pay off, it certainly did in this case.

My only regret is reaching the end and realizing this isn't a standalone. Now starts the long wait for the sequel.

Readaroo Rating; 5 stars!

In theory, I love Greek mythology. Who isn't drawn towards stories of bravery and tragedy, all wrapped up in strong characters and epic battles? But in reality, I'm starting to flag a bit with the recent ones I've read, and I'm trying to put my finger on exactly why.

Going in, I didn't know anything about Atalanta and was surprised to learn that she was a part of the Argonauts on their quest for the Golden Fleece. It's always interesting to experience a well-known tale through the eyes of a different character, and Atalanta offers an undoubtedly compelling perspective, especially being the only female in the group.

But the quest for the Golden Fleece is just a part of Atalanta, though arguably its most exciting part. It's prepended by her being left in the forest as a baby and growing up into the huntress that she is, and postpended by what feels like a long wrap-up in which she figures out what to do with her life. And these two bookends just didn't quite capture my attention the same way, especially the former.

To be honest, even the quest for the Golden Fleece somehow wasn't as epic as I thought it would be. At one point in the story, Atalanta even mentions that it feels like she was just a spectator on the sidelines, watching Madea help Jason take the Golden Fleece by witchcraft rather than through a fair fight.

And maybe herein lies the problem. By and large, the women of Greek mythology have always felt a bit like supporting characters, there to bolster the men's stories. So to take one woman, especially when it's a lesser-known one without a lot of content, and make a whole book's worth out of her may be stretching it. No matter how great of a writer Jennifer Saint is, she is still at the mercy of the source material and can only embellish so much.

Don't get me wrong, I found Atalanta's story to be interesting. But it was so mild compared to the grand vision I had in my head of what a heroine in Greek mythology should be. I wanted more for Atalanta, more adventures and more epicness. But as it stands, her story probably would've worked better for me as a novella or even as a series of vignettes rather than as a full-length book.

Still, I'm a sucker for feminist retellings, and since Jennifer Saint has positioned her books as exactly that for the unsung heroines of Greek mythology, I'll continue to read whatever she writes, even if I end up wanting more than what I'm given.

Readaroo Rating: 3 stars

I don't know what's wrong with me. Obviously, I enjoyed this. I really did. But I can't help feeling disappointed that I didn't love it as thoroughly as I thought I would.

On the surface, this should've been a 5-star read for me. When you put together things like adopted human daughter of a vampire king, a legendary tournament where only one can survive, and a forbidden attraction between two contestants—one human and one vampire—it all sounds so good. If ever there was something right up my alley, this would be it. So what's my problem? Honestly, I'm still trying to figure that out.

I think part of the issue for me was that there was so much fighting and not enough characterization. The tournament has five parts and we are treated to detailed descriptions of every play-by-play, along with countless wounds and gashes and blood galore. In fact, the sheer amount of injuries in here is quite eyebrow raising considering we only follow a few characters. And since everyone heals quickly and gets injured again immediately, I soon lost track of it all.

I also found Oraya to be rather one-dimensional. I'm all for my female characters to be badass, but what is her personality other than fight first and talk later? Sure, she is distrusting and stab happy, but that doesn't paint a picture of a real person to me. And she keeps mentioning how vampires don't have a sense of humor, but it's hard for me to see her sense of humor when she just keeps stabbing everyone.

Not really connecting with Oraya made it hard for me to see what Raihn saw in her, which in turn made it hard for me to understand the romance in here. It seems like Oraya disliked Raihn for a long time, and then all of a sudden, she likes him. And Raihn was attracted to her for no reason I could discern other than she keeps stabbing him.

Each of these complaints, while small on their own, just added to the feeling that the whole thing wasn't really gelling together for me. Whenever I read a story, I want that immersive experience, and this is especially true for fantasy. It's a chance to escape the real world and wholly commit myself to another. So it's always a bit disappointing when I don't get that, and it feels like I'm just reading words on a page, however good they may be.

And make no mistake, this is a well-written fantasy with a lot of potential and a lot of depth. There is a rich world here (and I realized halfway through there is a glossary to help me keep it all straight). And the book did eventually grab me, with the last hundred pages being so full of revelations and surprises, I think my mouth was hanging open the whole time. It finally became as exciting and riveting as I'd hoped for.

Still, I can't help but wish the whole book had been more like the finale. Maybe my expectations were just too high here. I wanted to be enthralled and captivated and completely riveted from beginning to end. Instead, I was merely entertained for the majority. I kept waiting for the moment when the story would grab me and not let go, and that didn't really happen until the very end.

Readaroo Rating: 3.5 stars

She was safe for another moment, one more moment, and all of life was only moments, after all.

No matter how many books I've read, coming across that perfect story never gets old. And this one's about as amazing and magical as they come.

Spinning Silver is a tale of brave maidens and fearsome villains set against the cold, harsh, brutal winters of the kingdom of Lithvas. I'm not sure what I was expecting going in, but it certainly wasn't this. It felt like I was a kid again, reading a fairy tale of good versus evil and being swept away in all that magic.

Nothing makes me love a book more than a strong female character, and this book has three! Our heroines are clever, courageous, and spirited. Each has been dealt a crappy hand in life, but they don't let that get them down. Instead of waiting for a man to save them, they use ingenuity and hard work to turn their circumstances around, saving themselves and everyone around them. You guys, I swooned!

From the very first page, this book grabbed me and didn't let go. I was riveted. Not only was the story charming and mesmerizing, but the writing was too. There was an exquisiteness to it that perfectly suited this rich tapestry of a tale.

Nowadays, it feels like no one does standalone fantasies anymore. Every fantasy must be a series, and the more books the better. But there's something to be said about a whole tale and a whole universe encompassed entirely in just one book. The worldbuilding is tighter, the pacing brisk, and the fluff trimmed to nonexistent. There's a sense of urgency here that propels the story forward, and the reader along with it.

Because it feels a bit trimmed down, not every scene is spelled out in excruciating detail when it's already clear what's going on. And I love that. Just like the fairy tales of old, it's up to the reader's imagination to fill in between the lines and behind the scenes. It harkens back to my youth when imagination was such a big part of my life. And it leaves me wanting more instead of hoping for less.

Usually it's better to go into a book blind, but in this case, the one thing you should know is that while this story is told in first person, the actual narrator switches between several different characters and it's unmarked. If you're aware of that, it's fairly easy to catch on to the change. The first time I read this, I wasn't, and it made for a bit of brief confusion.

When I think of the ideal fantasy, what I want is for it to be epic and accessible at the same time. And that's this story. The scale feels immense and stunning, but you also fall into the story easily. And the end result is a thoroughly fun and exhilarating experience, one which I adored every moment of.

Readaroo Rating: 5 stars!

This was a pick for my Book of the Month box. Get your first book for $5 here.

I think this happens to all of us readers. You buy a book you're super excited for, bring it home, put it on your shelf, and there it sits collecting dust for many years. You never seem to find the exact right moment to read it, especially when new and exciting releases keep dazzling you. I confess that's what happened here.

So what held me back from The Ten Thousand Doors of January for so long? Honestly, it was the effusive praise of this book. When it's described as "unbearably beautiful" and "a gorgeous, aching love letter to stories," it makes me shy away. I hear those words and think of flowery, descriptive prose and hardly anything interesting to keep me reading. Ouch.

But I'm so glad I finally took the plunge because I ended up not only finding this beautiful, but also riveting. The story itself has a dreamlike quality to it. It reads like a fairytale all grown up, steeped with magic and wonder. And the rich and beautiful prose perfectly complements it, giving a voice to that imaginative and fanciful journey.

The last two-thirds of the book was absolutely amazing. I couldn't tear through it fast enough. You would've had to pry me away with a crowbar, that's how riveting it was. It felt like I was pulled along on a grand adventure with many unexpected surprises, filled with wonderful characters I could love and cheer for.

But I have to be honest, I found the initial hundred pages to be boring as all heck. The story was slow to start, with hardly anything happening or so it seemed because I didn't know where it was going. Instead, it was mostly January talking about Doors with a capital D and Yule Ian pontificating on the mythology and practicality of entryways. I understand the author was trying to make the story seem real, so January's rambling and the pedantic tone of the inner story all contributed to that. But it sure made it a grueling slog.

In fact, I was so certain I was going to get rid of the book after finishing that I let my baby play with it, so the cover and pages are all bent. And I'd messaged one of my friends who'd read the book saying, "Omg does 10k doors get interesting? Is the story within story just as boring? I’m dying. What possessed me to buy this book?"

Obviously, I've never been so glad to be proven wrong. When I think of books with dull starts that I've pushed through, there's only ever been a handful that I ended up loving. It's so rare to be rewarded, and I'm glad this was the case here. In fact, I suspect this is one of those stories that gets even better on a reread, and I can't wait.

I guess what I'm saying with all this is that if you've held back from reading this book because you have the same fear as me, or you've started and found it dull, maybe give it a chance? Perhaps you would end up loving it like I did and finding the magic within. It certainly is worth the try when the end result could be so amazing.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars

"Remember it's only the body that's fragile. You are unbreakable."

Ahh, that was pretty awesome. I'm going to need a moment to process all this.

Many moments later...

Right, onto my thoughts.

Allow me a second to gush here. I love it when a book knows what it's there to do, and that is to entertain the reader. It isn't there to be slow or boring or god forbid, pretentious (shudders). Rather, its goal is to squeeze every ounce of joy and delight out of the pages, and that's what this series does best.

Cracking open the first page, I was sucked right back into the world of Navarre and Violet Sorrengail. It's as if I've never left it. Everything I loved from the first book is here—nonstop action, characters I could root for, snarky dragons, and sizzling romance. I couldn't turn the pages fast enough.

The only thing I didn't love was our main couple having squabbles for half the book over reasons I couldn't make heads or tails of. I get that Rebecca Yarros has to inject some sort of strife between them to keep things interesting, but I was just confused. But if it's that or hundreds of pages of lovey-dovey mush, I guess I'll take confounding couple problems any day.

I always have a sliver of trepidation going into book 2 of a series. What if my enjoyment of the first book was a fluke, a figment of my imagination? Or that the author somehow found the magical formula once, but can't reproduce it again? Or worse, that there's no interesting story left to tell? But I needn't worry because Iron Flame contains all the magic of its predecessor.

I will say though, going in, the length at more than 600 pages was a bit daunting. But once I started, it didn't even matter. I was riveted throughout. It felt like every single page served a purpose—except for the aforementioned confounding couple problems—building momentum and eventually hurtling towards a stunning conclusion. Honestly, if there were another 600 pages, I'd happily gobble those up too.

Before this book, I admit I was a bit puzzled that there could be five books in this series, like how much more is there to this story? But seeing the way Yarros has built out the universe and the war in this book, and especially that ending, I get now how there could be so much more to this. And I'm glad. I'm not sure I'm ready to say goodbye to Navarre any time soon, so I'm happy there are still a few more books to come. I just hope the wait isn't too long.

Readaroo Rating: 4 stars