C. J. Daley

This one is sadly a DNF at 84%. I usually am really against ratings or reviews if you (me) don’t read the full story. (If you aren’t me, please gladly do whatever you want!).

I received the audio to judge for the Indie Ink Awards, so I did really want to finish it in full. The narrator, Magnus Carlssen, did do a fantastic job. I wouldn’t say it was a struggle or anything, as I enjoyed a great deal of it, but there was definitely some issues, one of which, I could not come back from.

For one, I was asked to judge LGBTQ rep. Lago, our teenage main character, is announced as gay from the start. He paints his nails and has a female best friend he plays and swims naked with (because obviously he isn’t interested in her, we’re actually TOLD this), and he has a weirdly conservative dad even though we are set in a fantasy world? Other than that set up, the gayness of the character did little more than allow for some very overly depicted sex scenes.

That’s number two. We know this is a fantasy world and that our perceptions and morals and thoughts on age simply “don’t” exist there, but come on, clearly it was written in the real world. The sad but very real truth is teens do explore and have sex, but I do not want, need, or should have any involvement—and this author very clearly chose the age of his protagonist (much of the writing reads as very young adult) and then had MULTIPLE explicit scenes. In some aching, horrifying detail. While their world is described as not wholly accepting of gay people, Lago still manages to have a really weird one night stand in the middle of no where with a full grown man? Then the final scene made me throw in the towel. A character that is described as a 9ft tall immortal being, one that has already existed for time untold, has decided it’s okay to want to have sex with the teenager and then does. The character is very much so parts Beorn and Gandalf, Hagrid and Dumbledore, a wise and knowledgeable character I quite liked at first. But then he’s like those characters only if they were actually groomers.

Number three is the story itself. While the worldbuilding is interesting with the cataclysmic past that ended the ancient times making it feel as if this could be a primitive, yet futuristic and magical earth, every opportunity taken to build is entirely an info dump. Every single time. While it did make parts of the world feel super fleshed out and real, nothing ever seemed to come of it. Part one is basically all about Lago being a child and doing work, there’s not much there and it kind of does drag. Part two is basically Lago fulfilling his entire promise from the opening of the book, seeing as the author decides to subvert expectations by just making all of the characters important to the initial quest die. Part three goes into another subverted journey, but then it just becomes all about development and training, in the style you’d almost expect from a book two in a trilogy. This goes into the third part, where I decided I’d had enough. Lago uses his magical mask, which has only come to him specifically because the author decided to kill everyone else it belonged to, and it helps him change into a kind of half man half Timberwolf that seemingly just suffices to pay off as a sort of voyeuristic furry fantasy of some kind. The use of a teen and weird sex scenes felt almost exploitative and problematic even.

Huge thanks to Flatiron Books for the physical ARC. I love the cover and colors and this was a cool one to receive.

This novel spans genres in a pretty solid and unique way. It’s deeply rooted in grief, with three of four best friends (whose names start with letters that make up The L.O.V.E. Club) dealing with the loss of the fourth. The story is shown through O, and she can’t really remember anything about what happened. That helps the author pepper in some mystery, and also allows for all the cards to not be present on the table at the start. Their love of video games, which is part of what brought them together, is exploited as they are all transported into their lost best friend, E’s, game-world. It kind of brought to mind the sequel/reboot of Jumanji, but that’s where the similarities stopped. That meshes scifi into the otherwise real-world Calendula, California, but then the levels of the video games present an almost fantasy-style layer on top of the settings the characters know from the world. This is also helped by L and V getting a bow and arrow and a sword, too. Then with the grief, and when some of the information about E comes to light, there is a tinge of horror there.

So there were some things in this that just didn’t work for me. While the bulk of this novel takes place in a video game, none of the actual descriptions of the levels felt like a video game to me. If anything, it could have been a portal fantasy and that might have been sold better. O’s gifted power is a notebook, as of course she is a writer. She is able to elicit help from L and V by writing out what they want to do, and while this may have actually been incredibly well done writing (as in an author pretending to write like a high schooler that thought they were a great writer) a lot of it was confusing and wordy, and seriously cringey. There is also a thread throughout about how much E loved flowers. While there is payoff for its inclusion in the end, as someone that doesn’t know about flowers, it felt like a chunk of this book was using descriptors that brought nothing to mind. Flower names used to enhance mentioned colors felt kind of forced and left me confused.

There were also things that continued to reel me in over and over in how well they were done. Calendula is a Chinese American suburb and the author does a great job of painting exactly what that means. The culture bled into everything around them, their intricacies and secrets, the dos and don’ts (if you will) that are (not so) quiet expectations, the challenges of thriving—or even surviving—there. It felt like a perfect glimpse into a world that wasn’t mine, and It was just enough. I’m all for the representation here as well. The layered in grief really hit for me. While the club had each other, E was truly O’s best-best friend. The kind of friendship where it’s hard to tell where one person begins and the other ends. So when she lost her, she just kind or crumbled, lost herself. I also thought it was clever to show how each girl was grieving separately, because each person carries it differently.

Then what really shone are the friendships. This author allows them to be natural, to be hectic, to be anything but cut and dry and nice and neat. They felt real, and every time they have some kind of revelation together I felt for them. The emotion described is powerful and felt almost like a tangible thing you could hold. These friends love each other. They have lost and they have grown. They may never be the same, but that’s still okay. The writing is imbued with a beautiful take on the world, even though their world is not wholly beautiful itself, and I loved the messiness. There are no even lines or comfy finishes here.

The author very kindly offered me a physical copy for review, and I’m very sorry I’m late. With my last year being what it turned out to be (a dumpster fire) I have been racing to catch up and realized I have no idea where the book was in my storage unit. So I decided to buy the audio to ensure I got to it. Scott Fleming was a great choice for narration, but did an almost Massachusetts/Boston accent (wah-rrior, dah-ughter, Coop-uh). Not at all an issue for me, I just noticed! Or imagined it…?

This one is really unique. It’s an urban/portal fantasy that at times feels wholly scifi, then it turns and feels wholly fantasy, with zero urban. The kind of story that makes you forget all about earth and high school. It blends entire galaxies away from earth, with some advanced technology that surpasses human knowledge. It features gods that make it feel ancient, but somehow it still feels rooted in the now. Through Cooper and Reed, it’s a coming of age story, an underdog story, and certainly a reluctant hero story. It blends so many things in its own original way that I feel like I can’t even summarize it.

The best friends of Cooper and Reed were spectacular. One is book smart, less confident, but certainly not without strength. The other is an athlete, confident and although bright, less focused on the future. While in some schools or circled this would be an unlikely match, their friendship formed at a young age and they didn’t let it stop them. They are opposites, like two sides of the same coin. They need each other, balance each other, and propel each other. I loved the healthy male friendship on display, and getting both of them focused on as POVs showed the reader how little jealously was there between them. Then they both succeed in unlocking/befriending the elements of air and fire called Spreeta. Little white and red creatures that I thought of as almost angry bird style little things. I imagined them as cute, but they controlled immense power. And they unlocked that power in both of the boys, as well as functionally offering a new responsibility for them, forcing maturing.

The magic system feels old and full and yet it left some things up for interpretation. Empathic objects can be bestowed to those with certain specifically strong traits. These can be any object, including weapons. But these empathic objects are just a scrape off the surface. There’s ways to learn a multitude of powers and strengths, as well as utilizing unimaginable tech. The strength unlocked by the Spreeta help the boys to find their inner power and unleash it. Their displays of strength kind of felt almost superhero to me, kind of a la Wistful Ascending by J.C.M. Berne, but with a completely different foundation. Then you throw in a twist almost a la Terminator…this one truly has it all.

I loved the mentor figures so much. One, a misunderstood, centuries-old protector, a man that fits the trope perfectly. The other, another old character, but this one stuck inside the body of a child. The two played off each other even when they weren’t together, one the wise and understanding, the other quicker to action. It was great to see the senior-year teen Cooper go toe to toe with a kid and be forced to back down over and over. The author does a great job of twisting tropes in ways that feel fresh and familiar at the same time.

For the first time in a long time honestly, I had zero idea where a book was going to go. It was an awfully nice change.

Book 3 of the Malitu trilogy and I have been so happy to be part of this ARC team.

Let me borrow from my review of the first book two years later and say: WOW, that is how you write an ending! The climax is just so incredibly epic and beautiful and dark at the same time. Threads that were weaved throughout the entire story coming together to make a beautiful little sweater of gut-punching, heartbreaking action and tension. I am blown away. —two books and a prequel novella later and this couldn’t be more true. I suppose that together they make a full jumpsuit of gut-punching emotional damage. Dulin pulls threads from his debut all the way until the bittersweet end of this one. Character development three books in the making finally comes together, blossoming as each character becomes their fully realized selves. Kaylo grows from an angry, shadow of a man to the caring, loving protector of Tayen. Finally capable of putting aside his regrets, his fears, and his desire for retribution. Tayen goes from a fearful ball of anger, from a consequences-be-damned and no-matter-the-cost revenge seeker, to understanding patience and the need to see the bigger picture. And I absolutely love how much her story mirrors his past, and I can’t say enough on how well the author has crafted this father-figure and daughter duo.

And then to quote myself reviewing book 2: As I did with the first (and now second), I’d again liken this to The Last of Us. Tayen is bereaved of all those in her life, she’s jaded, and she wants revenge. So when she finally lets someone in, Kaylo, she has such a hard time accepting his mistakes. Much like older Ellie and Joel. That is where the similarities end of course, as Dulin has offered us a rich world with lore, magic, culture. —I would go even further and say that Tayen has a similar revelation as Ellie in the end of Part II in this. Revenge will not bring the relief she seeks, nor will it ever make her whole. That doesn’t mean that she can’t make a difference though, that she can’t fight for what’s right.

Also from 2: of course the darker enthocentlrism, war, colonialism, and racism. I love the deep message of the story, and I really appreciate that you can also just read and enjoy it as a fantasy, too. —I also think these are quite deftly handled. When using or borrowing (or perhaps more truthful to these: highlighting) other cultures and peoples, it can be super hard to tow that invisible fine line of appropriation. I think the author’s boosting of others, including the works of others telling own-voice stories, has lended itself to him telling a story that feels wholly authentic. This is a fantasy jam packed with historical implications. Some of the not-so-small nods are messages that each and every person could do with some self reflection on.

Now when it comes to book 3 on its own, there was an incredibly tall order for it to hold up to the others. So does it? In my opinion, yes, absolutely. There are some areas where the pacing slowed for me, but even then, I was as engaged in Kaylo’s story as Tayen was. Therefore, while it may have stuck out in the back of my mind, I didn’t actually find myself consciously noticing or being bothered. Plus I expected a big action finish I think, and in that way I was maybe appeased with waiting. I do really feel like the author was successful here. Three books of weaving threads is a lot of work, and to end a book that feels satisfying is a triumph. I don’t think I’ve read many others that juggle so many side characters in a way that makes them all feel necessary. Sadly, that makes each and every loss hit like a brick to the face.

I do think there is enough emotional damage done here that a court may order reparations. I reeled myself in from messaging the author after finishing but that’s the sign of a well done ending.

Thanks to NetGalley, St. Martin’s Press, and Macmillan Audio for the audiobook arc. Shoutout to the continued CJ supremacy from my fellows. Jenn Lee did a solid job with the audio, really nailing the submissive tone as well as the more solid-ground surety from later in the novel.

I’ve got to be honest, I found myself slipping during a slow day at work and was actually reading some reviews. That’s something I never do. I had already started it, so I guess I was just curious. For whatever reason, probably some Goodreads algorithm, some of the mid-negative reviews were toward the top. People claiming it wasn’t a horror, that it didn’t deliver…and I found this interesting (interesting enough to include in a review—even though the overall vibe of the book is not at all negative FYI) because it really didn’t match up with my experience. Sometimes when you aren’t getting along with a story you check the reviews and see people felt the same and it clicks. This was not that.

When Sadie finds out she’s pregnant, she knows there’s no way in hell she’s raising her child and newborn with an abusive partner. It’s the kick in the butt she’s needed to flee. Through mild planning that’s more shove-what-we-can-in-a-suitcase, she and her daughter end up outside the L’Arpin

Hotel on Erie Lake. As we can expect from a setup like this, a desperate job interview leads to new work and a place to lay low for a while. But as Sadie cleans the hotel (while an unsuspecting elderly live-in watches her daughter) she begins to question things at every turn. From seeing someone struggling in the pool, to a tentacled nuisance in the shower, things continue to get more and more odd and no one seems to be taking her seriously.

I felt that the novel really nailed the submissive personality. The abused person’s need to apologize and explain away. To accept things you’d never accept otherwise. The continuous self-sabotaging thoughts and self blame. As a person with anxiety, the train of thought felt familiar in a way, and I think the author really sold it as a layer in the novel that made each experience of Sadie’s more complex. Does she do, think, and accept things that may appear repetitive or even annoying? Absolutely. But that being engrained as her ‘normal’ is pivotal to her story. And I love a good story that can hit home on how horrific normal life and humans can be.

From there, this does have an almost cosmic twist to its horror. It reminded me of The Sundowner’s Dance in the sense that the climax also functions as a creature feature. And while your opinion on the ending is yours to feel however you’d like, this is where I really disagreed with those reviews I read. The audiobook I received was around 10 hours. The climax itself was over an hour long. For me that certainly delivers. I didn’t think it was short or underwhelming. It could have upped the gore for me, but I don’t think that was what the author was going for.

A creeping, slithering slow burn of a cosmic horror.

Thanks to NetGalley, Tor Nightfire, and Macmillan Audio for the audiobook arc. I loved Nestlings, so I was excited to get into more from the author. Helen Laser was a solid choice for narration, and she embodied the main character well.

I went into this one completely blind. I didn’t read the blurb and even avoided seeing my fellow reviewers star ratings (let alone dodging reviews). The opening gripped me from the jump. A struggling actress just starting out turned late night waitress reminded me of Mary Jane in the second Spider-man movie. It differs from there as Jess is forced to deal with what comes her way by herself. A late night argument between neighbors and a strange naked man, a violent attack, a scared little boy, and an across country chase. Jess simply followed her instincts by saving him, but she might just live to regret it.

Of course with the cover and the first attack, I really thought I was buckling up for a werewolf novel. In a sense, it is, but then again, it also really isn’t. When I made it to the part in the hotel, where Kiddo is left alone watching tv, I was so surprised by the curveball the author threw that I actually thought it just might not be for me and maybe I needed to DNF. It bordered on goofy to me, and of course I truly had no idea what the hell was going on. But if you know me at all, you know I don’t usually DNF anything, and I’m once again glad I didn’t. Once you understand what’s happening, it all clicks into place.

This is a unique novel, and it’s certainly multilayered. It’s a child’s nightmare, it’s a family drama, it’s a body horror, it’s a reflection of what people see us as when we let our anger win, it’s a commentary on government testing even. Although the author didn’t focus much time on it, the testing on the boy’s father carried notes of Stranger Things—the boy almost becoming Eleven to my mind. The banter between Jess and the boy, and how it slowly turned to trust and familiarity, was really well done. And then of course with any adult and child on the run I always think of The Last of Us, and while this is drastically different, you’re still delivered a story that pulls at all the heartstrings by the end.

If you had the ability to believe something was true, and then make it so for the world, what would you do? World peace? End world hunger? World domination? Unlimited money, success, fire power? Even if you had the best intentions ever, could you really fix what’s been broken—especially when all of your fears, your shortcomings, become true as soon as you believe? I thought it was incredibly well done that at every turn, Jess continued to lose people. Anyone close. And even in her grief, nothing was truly the boy’s fault. While the implications are heavy, there’s such a well built note of hope by the end. It’s complex and confusing, but I suppose I chose to believe it was there. This one is definitely a thinker.

I won a copy of this by sharing a picture of myself and my cat Ellie…what better way to be introduced to an author.

This novelette packs an immense punch for how short it is. It’s almost inconceivably well written. Concise editing making every words’ placement reach its ultimate impact. With some well placed and cool commas, this one really stands out.

Two lone survivors of a battle take part in an incredible standoff when they come across each other in the mud and viscera. One fights for the chance to see his son again, and the other fights for his freedom and a chance at a family. They’re both exhausted, weaponless (several times over), and frantically trying to stay alive to see their dreams come to fruition.

I’m impressed at how descriptive this was. It’s not overbearing, it didn’t hinder the pacing, and yet it felt like being smacked onto the aftermath of a battle. Bodies—both human and horse alike—blood, limbs, excrement and decay. I even imagined the smell—(the filthy puddles?!). This felt like a historic level of representation.

The battle is gripping, with pacing that will shred your face off. The banter is enjoyable, as if two opposing soldiers could ever be friendly. And the most surprising of all, the story’s heart will hit you where it hurts with so much emotional damage you’ll be left checking yourself for blade wounds. While you may be able to see the twist coming in this story, it’s so deftly handled you won’t care. What an enjoyable, quick read.