Elle

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Datura Books, from whom I received an ARC of Negative Girl.

I really liked the distinct neo-noir style of writing in this crime thriller. Every other chapter switches between the first-person POV of Martin and his assistant Valerie, and I like a good dual POV story, but these two characters are so alike that they don’t each feel like their own person. Their voices are too similar and I often found myself glancing back or checking the last page for a clue as to whose chapter I was reading.

Everyone in the book is either in a band, used to be in a band, plays an instrument, and/or is super into music, which is cool, but Martin and Valerie both talk about music and name drop a lot of bands and songs to the point that it felt like a bit too much.

The plot was a little predictable but enjoyable, and I loved the relationship between Martin and Valerie. As mentioned before, they’re very alike so they ultimately have a lot in common, including similar toxic situations with old friends. Their friendship, however, was lovely even when it was rocky. It was nice to read a book with a purely platonic male/female best friendship, where they loved and took care of each other but there were no underlying sexual motivations or tension.

I didn’t love Mr. Caesar in Mortal Follies but I was still happy for the chance to get to know him as the main character Confounding Oaths. Unfortunately I’m still not his biggest fan, but even he openly admits to being a shit, so perhaps I have the right idea.

Mr. Caesar isn’t the only carryover from Mortal Follies. Several characters from the first book make an appearance, including my favorite: Miss Bickle. She’s just as ridiculous as ever, with the added bonus of having become an author of Jane Austen fanfic. Alexis Hall—excuse me, the fairy hobgoblin narrator—seems to only tell queer stories, which I both love and respect, but it really is a shame that Miss Bickle is decidedly straight because I’d really love to be told a story in which she is the main character. Fingers crossed she’s a part of the queer community after all!

As for the story, I liked that it wasn’t strictly about Mr. Caesar saving his sister Mary, but also about Mary herself. She has a full-fledged character arc that is extremely relatable and reads a bit like a fairytale. Meanwhile, unlike Mortal Follies, Mr. Caesar’s romantic relationship with the captain isn’t front and center as much as it is in the background. Saving Mary is more important and all the crazy magical hijinks are distracting. I think it works for this book because I really liked Mary and for me personally, the romance between Mr. Caesar and Captain James wasn’t as captivating as the romance in the first book.

And so, my favorite hobgoblin narrator once again did a fantastic job of observing a great story, being 100% reliable, and making me laugh. I truly can’t believe Oberon hasn’t forgiven him yet, but I’m selfishly glad because he all but promised he has more stories for us and if he were to return to Oberon’s court, he would no longer have need to publish any more books.

Confounding Oaths could probably be read as a standalone, but there are enough characters from and callbacks to Mortal Follies that I highly suggest reading it first. It’s also a fantastic book, so it’s worth it!

I’d like to thank NetGalley and Random House / Del Ray from whom I received an ARC of Confounding Oaths.

I didn’t love Mr. Caesar in Mortal Follies but I was still happy for the chance to get to know him as the main character Confounding Oaths. Unfortunately I’m still not his biggest fan, but even he openly admits to being a shit, so perhaps I have the right idea.

Mr. Caesar isn’t the only carryover from Mortal Follies. Several characters from the first book make an appearance, including my favorite: Miss Bickle. She’s just as ridiculous as ever, with the added bonus of having become an author of Jane Austen fanfic. Alexis Hall—excuse me, the fairy hobgoblin narrator—seems to only tell queer stories, which I both love and respect, but it really is a shame that Miss Bickle is decidedly straight because I’d really love to be told a story in which she is the main character.

As for the story, I liked that it wasn’t strictly about Mr. Caesar saving his sister Mary, but also about Mary herself. She has a full-fledged character arc that is extremely relatable and reads a bit like a fairytale. Meanwhile, unlike Mortal Follies, Mr. Caesar’s romantic relationship with the captain isn’t front and center as much as it is in the background. Saving Mary is more important and all the crazy magical hijinks are distracting. I think it works for this book because I really liked Mary and for me personally, the romance between Mr. Caesar and Captain James wasn’t as captivating as the romance in the first book.

And so, my favorite hobgoblin narrator once again did a fantastic job of observing a great story, being 100% reliable, and making me laugh. I truly can’t believe Oberon hasn’t forgiven him yet, but I’m selfishly glad because he all but promised he has more stories for us and if he were to return to Oberon’s court, he would no longer have need to publish any more books.

Confounding Oaths could probably be read as a standalone, but there are enough characters from and callbacks to Mortal Follies that I highly suggest reading it first. It’s also a fantastic book, so it’s worth it!

I’d like to thank NetGalley and Random House / Del Ray from whom I received an ARC of Confounding Oaths.

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Hachette Audio, from whom I received an ALC of Long Live Evil.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first but once I gave in and embraced the camp, I had a really good time with Long Live Evil. I love the concept of the book and the idea that entering a story can change its plot. It’s a lot like the idea that if you travel to the past, you can’t change a single thing or the future will veer wildly off track. Rae’s presence in the book and the decisions she made changed the future of every character, and it was a lot of fun to see if those changes were for better or worse.

This is Sarah Rees Brennan’s first adult novel but the writing and especially Rae’s dialogue read to me like YA. I actually struggled to like Rae very much. At first I thought it was because of her childish dialogue and obsession with her new body’s boobs, and while that didn’t help, I think my main issue was that her insistence that none of the characters were real made it hard for me to care about anything, including her. By reminding so many times that no one was real, she was also reminding me that she isn’t real. She was telling me not to care for her either, and I decided to go ahead and listen.

Despite Rae’s best efforts, I found most characters interesting and each had a lot of depth. My favorite character, Key, is one of the first that Rae meets when she wakes up in the world of this story and he’s fascinating. I’m not much for book boyfriends but I might make an exception for Key.

I listened to the audiobook, narrated by Moira Quirk. That’s right, Mo from Nickelodeon GUTS narrated this audiobook. God, I’ve always wanted a piece of The Crag. Anyway, sometimes it seemed like she was reading parts of conversations too quickly, faster than the person speaking would actually say them, but for the most part I enjoyed her narration and I think she did the voices of the many characters very well.

Despite the few issues I had, Long Live Evil was ultimately a satisfying read. The ending left me wanting more so I’ll definitely be reading the next book!

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Hachette Audio, from whom I received an ALC of Long Live Evil.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first but once I gave in and embraced the camp, I had a really good time with Long Live Evil. I love the concept of the book and the idea that entering a story can change its plot. It’s a lot like the idea that if you travel to the past, you can’t change a single thing or the future will veer wildly off track. Rae’s presence in the book and the decisions she made changed the future of every character, and it was a lot of fun to see if those changes were for better or worse.

This is Sarah Rees Brennan’s first adult novel but the writing and especially Rae’s dialogue read to me like YA. I actually struggled to like Rae very much. At first I thought it was because of her childish dialogue and obsession with her new body’s boobs, and while that didn’t help, I think my main issue was that her insistence that none of the characters were real made it hard for me to care about anything, including her. By reminding so many times that no one was real, she was also reminding me that she isn’t real. She was telling me not to care for her either, and I decided to go ahead and listen.

Despite Rae’s best efforts, I found most characters interesting and each had a lot of depth. My favorite character, Key, is one of the first that Rae meets when she wakes up in the world of this story and he’s fascinating. I’m not much for book boyfriends but I might make an exception for Key.

I listened to the audiobook, narrated by Moira Quirk. That’s right, Mo from Nickelodeon GUTS narrated this audiobook. God, I’ve always wanted a piece of The Crag. Anyway, sometimes it seemed like she was reading parts of conversations too quickly, faster than the person speaking would actually say them, but for the most part I enjoyed her narration and I think she did the voices of the many characters very well.

Despite the few issues I had, Long Live Evil was ultimately a satisfying read. The ending left me wanting more so I’ll definitely be reading the next book!

I love retellings of and new takes on fairy tales, myths, etc., so Stone Blind was an easy choice for me. I was especially excited to read this one because although I’m somewhat familiar with greek mythology, I’ve never read much about Medusa beyond the standard stuff.

The description of Stone Blind is extremely Medusa-heavy, so I went into it thinking most of it was going to be all about Medusa. Her origins, life, how she was cursed, and Perseus and his quest. And that story was there, but it also kind of felt like Medusa was just in the background for a lot of the book. There wasn’t as much of a “Medusa is the Main Character” feeling as I expected and I do feel disappointed about that.

The story of Medusa and Perseus is there, but the book is also about all of these women and maybe more I can’t remember because I already returned the book to the library:

Metis, ex-wife of Zeus

Hera, wife of Zeus

Athene, daughter of Zeus

Amphitrite, wife of Poseidon

Stheno, one of Medusa’s sisters

Euryale, the other of Medusa’s sisters

Phorcys, mother of the three gorgons

Danae, mother of Perseus

Cassiope, queen of Ethiopia

Andromeda, princess of Ethiopia

Natalie Haynes tells their stories just as much as she tells the story of Medusa and Perseus if not more.

Because of that, Stone Blind feels a little all over the place. Each chapter follows a different character and there are <i>a lot</i> of characters. But for all jumping around, everything ended up coming together and making sense in the end.

Speaking of all these characters, it’s a little difficult to keep track of everyone at first. I think partly because it jumps around so much but also because there are so many people that Haynes had to include a list of some (not all) of them with descriptions of who they are in the front of the book. But surprisingly, it wasn’t actually as bad as I thought it would be, and each character is brought to life perfectly. Medusa and her sisters are instantly lovable, Athene is amazing, Zeus is a cranky mofo which is exactly how I always imagined he’d be, Perseus is… Perseus.

There are a lot of powerful women in Stone Blind and we get to see a lot of the sometimes inspiring, sometimes frustrating ways each one of them used that power. A blurb on the back of the book from Glamour (UK) says that it is “A fierce feminist exploration of female rage…” and, yes. This exploration is not subtle or gentle. It’s funny, it’s witty, it’s in-your-face, and I like that.

PS great ending A+

I feel genuinely sorry for anyone who skips prologues and happens to read Mortal Follies. The book’s prologue provides an important introduction to our narrator, a hobgoblin who has been cast from Oberon’s court. Not only is he an amazing storyteller, worthy of Oberon’s forgiveness, but he’s extremely funny, and I was already laughing before chapter one began.

The way the Mortal Follies was written—excuse me, told by a hobgoblin, it reads a bit like an Austen novel but with magic. There are curses, old gods, sacrifices, witches, and there may or may not be kelpies.

The narrator wasn’t the only reason Mortal Follies was funny. I was laughing the whole way through, at the narration, the hijinks of the characters and the situations they found themselves in, and, well, Miss Bickle. Miss Mitchelmore’s best friend, Lysistrata Bickle, is an absolute delight and I will fight anyone who tries to harm a hair on her head. She’s a great friend and though she’s more than a bit naive, she’s quirky in all the best ways. She needs her own book about her adventures. I can’t decide if I wanted a friend like Miss Bickle, or I wanted to be a friend like Miss Bickle. The answer is both. I want both.

One of my favorite bits of the book was Miss Mitchelmore’s character arc. The ways in which she changes from the beginning of the story, when she’s a prim and proper young lady of high society who finds that she’s been cursed, to the end of the story when, well, she’s in love with a woman and shit is seriously going down… it’s impressive.

I loved that the story was told by this hobgoblin, who added in his own thoughts and opinions as events unfolded. By doing that, he became a character in his own right, and I really enjoyed getting to know him. I look forward to hearing his next story, Confounding Oaths (which, let’s be real, I’m going to start reading as soon as I’m done writing this 😂).

What if the famous underground railroad wasn’t just a series of underground tunnels, but an actual underground railroad, with stations and trains on tracks? Colson Whitehead answers that question in The Underground Railroad.

Cora is a victim of or at least a witness to every possible atrocity committed against her fellow slaves on the Randall plantation where she grew up and it’s absolutely heartbreaking. Colson is not afraid to slap his readers in the face with very real details of America’s terrible history and it’s very hard to read. I was already crying by the end of the first part, which is 8 pages long.

Although it elicited a lot of emotion from me, the writing itself is very matter-of-fact and unemotional, which felt a little jarring at first, but soon came to feel like a nod to how powerless Cora and the other slaves were. Every horrible thing that happened was just a fact of life, and they had to remove themselves from it without dwelling on it or allowing themselves to feel those painful emotions. Even after her escape, Cora often felt powerless, unable to be herself, unable to embrace any of her true emotions. I think the writing reflected that perfectly.

However, there were some jumps in time here and there that were really confusing for me as there was a severe lack of cohesive transition between flashbacks and the now. Sometimes it was a couple weeks ago, sometimes it was right now, sometimes it was suddenly a month later, and I often had no idea which it was until I read quite a bit and figured it out for myself.

I loved Cora and I loved the premise, but the erratic timeline and the incredibly abrupt ending unfortunately hindered my overall enjoyment of the book. The ending is really the thing that messed with me the most. I can’t figure out why it ended so suddenly!

Still, I’d recommend The Underground Railroad to basically everyone ever. It’s an important story that highlights a part of American history that too many people ignore but shouldn’t be forgotten, and it is absolutely worth the read.

I discovered a love of Cozy Sci-Fi/Fantasy in March when I read another indie with my little chaotic readalong group (The Crossing by Laurie Janey). I’ve been passively looking for another book in that genre since then and was excited to find this one. It’s very cozy, but also very heartfelt and emotional.

Our main character, August, lives a lonely, unsatisfying life, and when she decides to make some changes, we get to come along for the ride. I instantly connected with August and it was a joy to see her making connections of her own. Her issues with her mother reminded me of my own issues with my father and I may have shed some tears as she reflected on their relationship. Yeah, I definitely shed some tears. Luscombe’s letter to the reader at the end of the book made me cry again, btw. I was kind of a mess there at the end. But a good mess.

I like to highlight lines in a book that I resonate with so deeply I could have written them myself, or they feel like they were written to or about me, and I was highlighting this one all over the place. So many things spoke to me in a way many books do not and it felt really good, like being given a hug by someone who truly understands how I feel.

If you’re anyone, you should give this book a read. But if you’re feeling or have ever felt burned out, stuck, or unseen, you might find a bit of yourself in August and especially enjoy Moon Soul.

When I was about a quarter of the way through Scythe, I was telling my boyfriend about it and he said “If the Thunderhead (the AI that knows all and has solved all of humanity’s problems, thus allowing them to live in a utopia) is all-knowing and capable of so much, why can it solve every problem except over-population? It doesn’t make sense.” And that was it. Before he asked the question, I was perfectly willing to accept that Scythes were necessary, but after? I couldn’t make sense of it. Why couldn’t the Thunderhead solve over-population? It solved world hunger. It solved death! I know that without the Scythes, there wouldn’t have been a book, so I moved on (mostly), but I thought about it every once in a while as I read and I do wish there was a better explanation for their existence.

Anyway… I liked the main characters, though I feel Citra didn’t have as much development as Rowan. They both struggled with being Scythe apprentices, but Rowan dealt with a lot more strife and moral dilemmas. I found his sections more interesting and exciting, and going through all of that with him made me like him more. Side characters were interesting as well, and even the “villains” weren’t necessarily villains depending on who you are and what you believe.

I loved the way the Scythes each had their own method of gleaning people. It made for some interesting thought about how I would glean if I was a Scythe. I found it funny that in a utopia without government, they still ended up with the untouchable Scythes, who made their own rules and felt very much like a corrupt government, furthering the idea that corruption is inescapable.

I wasn’t expecting the book to be as twisty as it was, maybe because it had quite the slow start and didn’t get into twists until pretty late in the book, but they were fun and exciting. I love the way it ended, I think it was perfect and it made me really excited for the next book. I expect Thunderhead (the title of the next book) to be more fast-paced because I think Shusterman had to take some time setting up the series and explaining how the world works with Scythe, which slowed it down a bit. We’ll see!

I’d like to thank both Netgalley and Tor Books, from whom I received an ARC of A Sorceress Comes to Call. These opinions are my own.

If you’re familiar with the story of The Goose Girl from the Brothers Grimm, you might recognize a name here, or a plot device there, but A Sorceress Comes to Call is very much a story of Kingfisher’s own design and it is absolutely brilliant. It’s intense, dark, and heart-wrenching, and Cordelia, the lonely and naive 14-year-old girl at the center of the story, was so easy to fall in love with.

But Cordelia isn’t the only star of the show. While trying to win the affection of a rich man, Cordelia’s mother, Evangeline, sees one of my favorite characters, Penelope, as competition. Penelope isn’t a traditional beauty, but everyone is mesmerized by her anyway because of her inner-beauty and confidence. It’s a stark contrast to the toxic and narcissistic behavior of Cordelia’s beautiful mother, Evangeline, who despises Penelope. I loved that Evangeline felt threatened by Penelope and witnessing how her fear evolved and twisted.

Towards the end of the book, when everything comes to a head, there’s some action that I found a bit confusing. The description of what was going on wasn’t good enough for me personally. In the end, I understood as much as the characters did, but I was a bit disappointed that I couldn’t get a grasp on what was happening as it happened. It’s fully possible this is because of my inability to picture things, but obviously I can’t be sure.

There are so many plot points I wish I could comment on but I can’t do so without spoiling things! There are some twisty bits and some crazy parts and also there’s this one part where… ahhhh! Just read this book!

I’ve read plenty of books about hauntings, and some of them involved children, but to actually read one from the child’s point of view is absolutely next level. Adults being haunted can make their own decisions but 8-year-old Bela was not only at the mercy of the haunting, she was at the mercy of her parents and whatever decisions they made. As a child, she’s completely powerless. Remembering and sitting with that feeling while reading made Incidents Around the House so much scarier for me.

Of all the books I’ve read that were written from the perspective of a child (but meant for an older audience) a couple have worked, but most haven’t. This one is definitely the most well done of them all.

Malerman does an amazing job of making the reader truly feel like they’re being told a story by a little girl. The writing is a little disjointed, but not distractingly so. When she uses a word a typical 8 year old may not know, Bela explains that Mommy or Daddo taught it to her. When we need more adult information, it’s told through a memory Bela has, or a conversation some adults have in front of her. Bela never knows more than she should or feels way too smart for her age, but her narration does still serve as a great reminder that kids can pick up on things and are smarter than most people give them credit for.

I think Incidents Around the House is the best of the horror I’ve read this year. It’s super unique and certainly among my favorites!

I’ve read plenty of books about hauntings, and some of them involved children, but to actually read one from the child’s point of view is absolutely next level. Adults being haunted can make their own decisions but 8-year-old Bela was not only at the mercy of the haunting, she was at the mercy of her parents and whatever they were doing. As a child, she’s completely powerless. Remembering and sitting with that feeling while reading made this Incidents Around the House so much scarier for me.

Of all the books I’ve read that were written from the perspective of a child (but meant for an older audience) a couple have worked, but most haven’t. This one is definitely the most well done of them all.

Malerman does an amazing job of making the reader truly feel like they’re being told a story by a little girl. The writing is a little disjointed, but not distractingly so. When she uses a word a typical 8 year old may not know, Bela explains that Mommy or Daddo taught it to her. When we need more adult information, it’s told through a memory Bela has, or a conversation some adults have in front of her. Bela never knows more than she should or feels way too smart for her age, but her narration does still serve as a great reminder that kids can pick up on things and are smarter than most people give them credit for.

I think Incidents Around the House is the best of the horror I’ve read this year. It’s super unique and certainly among my favorites!

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Levine Querido, from whom I received an ARC of Markless. These opinions are my own.

I don’t read a lot of young adult books (they can be a little hit or miss for me), but sometimes I read a blurb and I don’t care if I’m the target audience or not – I’m definitely reading that book. I felt that way with Markless and I’m glad I gave it a chance because I enjoyed it quite a bit!

I don’t read a lot of fantasy with major romance plots (Romantasy? Is this romantasy?) but I do love the enemies to lovers trope and when it’s sapphic? Yes please! I also really like what Malburi did with the soulmates trope in Markless. I admit I haven’t read a whole lot of romance with the soulmates trope, so I’m not sure if what was done here is common or not, but I thought it was nice that it explored the idea that choosing your own soulmate is always a possibility.

The main character, Ruti, was so well-written. Not only did I love her, but I could easily feel whatever emotion she was feeling. If she was confused, so was I. Whether she was upbeat or distressed, I was too. The evolution of her relationship with Princess Dekala felt very natural, which I appreciated. Speaking of Dekala, she was… an enigma, but an intriguing one. My favorite thing about her was that she was so hard to pin down. Sometimes it was frustrating, but hey, I was only frustrated when Ruti was frustrated, so it was perfect!

I did feel that the magic system was a little confusing. As soon as I thought I had a decent understanding of it, something new was introduced that threw me for a loop. I don’t think I ever quite understood the limits of the world’s magic.

My only other issue was that towards the end of the book, there was a part that felt to me like the oft frowned upon “and then I woke up” moment used in some media. It wasn’t that, but it gave me a similar feeling, and I was disappointed. But the ending itself was great. It made up for some of that disappointment and left me feeling happy with the book overall.

I like to explore all the different versions of the vampire trope and Liz Kerin gave us a really cool one in Night’s Edge. Mia’s mom Izzy isn’t exactly a vampire though, she’s a sara. Exploring the similarities and differences between saras and vampires and learning about Saratov Syndrome was really cool, but I didn’t expect all the heartbreak that came with everything else.

Izzy became a sara when Mia was just 10 years old, which left Mia beyond traumatized, but she had no time to deal with it as she was immediately thrust into adulthood long before her time. My heart absolutely ached for Mia, and for my own younger self, as I deeply related to her severe parentification. I felt so much anger on Mia’s behalf every time she had to make a sacrifice, keep another secret, hold herself back, pretend everything was okay. Man… yeah… this book gave me a lot of feelings and they were definitely not about the things I was expecting 😅 I can’t wait to dive into the sequel and feel the feelings that one gives me.

I listened to the audiobook, narrated by actor Chase Sui Wonders. I didn’t know it was Wonders until after I finished the book but I thought it was pretty cool. I really liked her in HBO’s Genera+ion. She did an excellent job, the narration was full of emotion. I’d recommend the audio over other formats for sure. But… the book is on Kindle Unlimited!

I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of multiverses and the infinite ways things could have been different depending upon not only my choices but the choices of others and the various circumstances of my life. I’ll Miss Myself explores that idea in a fresh and incredibly interesting way that had me absolutely hooked from the first paragraph.

While there were some bits that made me laugh, this story is a serious one. Shaw’s struggle with depression and the way he hid it from himself (and his selves) was really relatable. I must have highlighted the majority of this short story for how much I resonated with it. A lot of it really spoke to me and it was an excellent reminder that I’m never alone, even if I only have myself.

I can’t say I’m surprised by how much I enjoyed this one after reading Someone You Can Build A Nest In (it’s one of my absolute favorite books), but now that I’ve read more by John Wiswell, I can say he’s on my list of favorite authors.

I’d like to thank both NetGalley and Datura Books, from whom I received an ARC of Honeycomb for review.

I’ve been on a bit of a fantasy kick lately, but when I saw the blurb for Honeycomb, I knew I had to read it ASAP. It was such a fun, fast-paced thriller, one one disturbing enough be horror too, or at least border on it.

I spent the first half of my time with it doing some detective work, trying to figure out if the six drug trial participants had been lied to by the doctor running experiment, if the drug was working as intended, wondering how far the doctor would truly let things go, hoping Amanda could find someone to trust, you know, normal stuff. But the second half of my time with the book was basically just me thinking “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!”

I appreciated that while the story centered on Amanda and her experience, we were also given glimpses into both the points of view and pasts of the other five participants of the drug trial. I liked that Claude, Arthur, Wish, Sherry, and Justin were all deeper than just nobody side-characters put there to give Amanda a hard time. I also found it really interesting how each of them responded to the drug trial in their own way. I thought their behavior would more or less be identical and I’m convinced the differences made the whole book even better.

It must be said, though I can’t explain: Honeycomb is the perfect name for the drug (and this book). Once you read it, you’ll know why!

I’ve discovered some incredible books and authors through Netgalley but I had no idea when I requested an ALC of The West Passage, a dark fantasy novel with a somewhat cryptic blurb, from Netgalley and Macmillan Audio that I’d found The One, but I have. I’ve found my favorite book of all time.

In The West Passage, we follow Kew and Pell on their individual journeys as they do what they feel is necessary to save their home from a terrible beast. But the story isn’t just about Kew and Pell, it’s about the massive sprawling palace grounds in which they live and travel through, a world with deep lore and rich history, some of which is too long-forgotten by its inhabitants. While on their journeys through this dangerous world, Kew and Pell meet plenty of interesting and quirky characters, and though the book is pretty dark, it reminded me a lot of both Alice in Wonderland and The Phantom Tollbooth. I got whimsical vibes and felt sort of nostalgic for those stories when listening to this one.

I was constantly impressed by Jared Pechaček’s immersive world building, beautifully descriptive writing, and immense creativity. His writing made me feel like he has actually been there and is simply describing everything for us, like he’s a historian of the palace. As if it didn’t come from his mind and it exists somewhere and he’s just telling us about it. Pechaček has written a textbook, and I listened to the audio but now I want a copy to highlight, make flashcards to study, memorize and learn the entirely too interesting history of this world as if it’s a real place.

I took my time listening to The West Passage on audiobook over the last week because there has never been a book I’ve wanted to savor more fully than this one. When I listen to audiobook, I always do other things, but I just sat and listened this time. I had to and wanted to focus on The West Passage because I felt like I was participating in this book, this event, and I didn’t want to participate in anything else. Though I did start out feeling as if the physical or ebook version might be a better choice, Steve West’s narration made me feel like I was a child being read a bit of a grand fantasy before bed, and I loved it. There are many, many characters in this story and West was able to change his voice wonderfully for each one. I especially liked the voices he did in a scene where there were 8 different frogs. If I can tell 8 frogs apart, that’s a damn good narrator.

If you cannot tell, I am absolutely obsessed with this book. It’s my Holy Grail. It’s my precious. Want to be sucked into a world that feels as though it will continue to live and breathe even after you turn the last page? This is the one.

Key Lime Sky’s blend of sci-fi, mystery, and autistic representation truly made for a compelling and refreshing read. This is my favorite kind of sci-fi, soft and cozy rather than hard, easy to get into and understand. And the importance of acceptance, understanding, and self-discovery are beautifully woven throughout a story that is honestly kind of alarming at times (it is about an alien invasion, after all)!

Denver is both autistic and nonbinary (xe goes by any pronouns but mentions that xe prefers xe/xem [which I don’t see in books very often!] so I’ll use those – I’ve never used them before and I looked it up but please forgive any mistakes and feel free to correct me). Xe is such a well-crafted character. I love xyr sense of humor and I can only dream of being as good at writing reviews as xe is. Xyr autism isn’t the most important part of xem, but it’s an important aspect of Denver’s life, so it’s a big part of the book. Al Hess is autistic himself, so I know and appreciate that Denver’s autistic traits are portrayed with both accuracy and sensitivity.

As for the plot itself: hell. yeah. I love a good alien invasion and Al Hess did a fantastic job setting the scene for unique story with a resolution I absolutely did not see coming. Alien invasions are serious business and it could be quite tense at times, so the different kind of tension we get from Denver and Ezra’s budding romantic relationship is extra welcome. I also liked that Denver isn’t the only one to struggle with acceptance, as Ezra and the other townspeople also have pasts and insecurities they have to work through.

I knew I’d like Key Lime Sky when I read the blurb, but I loved it even more than I expected I would and I was really happy to read a good book with an autistic character that feels realistic, instead of just a caricature, as it’s essential to have more stories like this that showcase diverse experiences in an appropriate way and promote empathy and understanding. Just a little advice though: when you read this book, make sure you have some pie handy, because Denver is going to make you want some.