Siege and Storm by Leigh Bardugo is the second book in The Shadow and Bone trilogy. In this installment, Alina and Mal are both struggling with the weight of Alina’s growing powers. Alina decides to return to Ravka to help stop the Darkling, and though Mal begrudgingly agrees to join her, he’s unsure of his place in her new life. As Alina learns to harness her powers and take on the role of a leader, Mal is left questioning where, or if, he fits into her future. To make matters worse, Alina fears that in order to defeat the Darkling, she may lose herself in the process.
I absolutely love this trilogy and can't wait to see how it concludes in the final book. Alina is a fantastic main character. Despite wielding immense power, she remains flawed and insecure, which makes her incredibly relatable. Her internal struggles and the weight of her decisions make her a more authentic hero—nothing comes easy for her, and that’s what I appreciate most. I also enjoyed the introduction of three new characters in this book. They added much-needed dynamics to the story, and I found them more likable than some of the returning Grisha characters.
My only complaint is that I wish Alina didn’t love Mal quite as much. While I understand his motivations in this book, I still find him a bit frustrating. I would have liked to see Alina explore other romantic interests more seriously, and for Mal to work harder to win her affection back. This is more of a personal preference, but I feel that Alina, with her growth, deserves to be loved for who she is now, not just for who she was.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater by Kurt Vonnegut is, like all of his works, an imaginative frenzy with profound themes that remain relevant today. The story delves into social class warfare, the importance of kindness, the burnout that often accompanies social service, and how our family histories shape our present situations.
This is only the second book by Kurt Vonnegut that I’ve read. Compared to Cat’s Cradle, I found this one to be more chaotic. The narrative primarily focuses on Eliot Rosewater but frequently veers off into tangents involving various side characters connected to the Rosewater family. At times, I’ll admit, these tangents felt superfluous, and I struggled to stay engaged with them. However, there were moments of clarity where I understood how these seemingly disconnected events came together to convey a deeper message.
In general, I think Vonnegut’s writing style is a matter of personal preference. You either enjoy the chaotic storytelling where you have to take your hands off the steering wheel and let the journey unfold, or you don’t. His themes can also feel heavy-handed at times. Nonetheless, I think the fact that his books address social issues that are still being discussed today—60 years later—is a testament to their lasting relevance.
Side note: I’ve learned that the book was adapted into a musical, which seems to have been quite successful. I’m really intrigued by how this was accomplished.
Thank you NetGalley and Kokila for providing the DRC for review. All opinions are my own.
The Last Tiger by Julia and Brad Riew is a historical fiction novel with a twist of fantasy, reimagining the love story of the authors’ grandparents. Set in the Tiger Colonies, currently under the oppressive rule of the Dragon Kingdom, the story alternates between the perspectives of Seung and Eunji—two adolescents from vastly different backgrounds. Seung, born into poverty, strives to improve his family’s fate, while Eunji, privileged but trapped in her own gilded cage, yearns for freedom. Their paths cross at a Tiger Slaying Ceremony, where a pact and an undeniable spark of attraction set them on a path to liberate themselves and potentially their homeland.
The narrative is infused with a palpable sense of love and respect for its characters and setting. Both Seung and Eunji are fully realized characters with distinct personalities and independent story arcs, making their dual perspectives two parallel narratives that occasionally intersect. This approach strengthens the story’s emotional depth and builds a stronger connection with the reader. The environmental storytelling stands out, as the world-building elements are seamlessly woven into the plot, and the fantasy elements never overwhelm the narrative.
However, while the storytelling is tight with engaging pacing, it also leaves some gaps. There were moments when I wished for more exploration, particularly of Eunji’s family dynamics and the impact of her actions on them. Similarly, the resistance movement, which feels like a crucial part of the backdrop, could have been developed further. This is a story aimed at a younger audience, which explains its sharp focus on Seung and Eunji’s journey. Still, it feels like there’s untapped potential here. The book could easily have been expanded into a trilogy, given the complexity of the characters and the world they inhabit. I found myself wanting more—more depth, more exploration, more time with these characters and their world.
Thank you to NetGalley and Saga Press for providing the DRC for review. All opinions are my own.
The Secret Market of the Dead by Giovanni De Feo is a magical tale about a young girl named Oriana, who has been touched by the Night. She dreams of following in her father’s footsteps to become a smith and inherit the family forge. However, society and her family deem this dream unbecoming, as women are expected to marry and bear children. In this world, Night and dreams are dangerous realms where sacrifices must be made to bring dreams to life. As Oriana navigates society’s expectations and the ever-increasing pull of the Night, will she be able to achieve her dreams, or will she become one herself?
“But that was also why she loved the Night, for not everything had to be explained, and so not everything was.” This quote from The Secret Market of the Dead perfectly encapsulates the experience of reading this story. Giovanni De Feo’s writing is remarkably beautiful. He weaves words together in a way that creates a hazy, dreamlike world that is both captivating and haunting. The characters and their surroundings feel as though they could have been lifted from a Guillermo del Toro film. The plot is intricate, touching on the dynamics between the dreams we have for ourselves and the dreams our parents have for us. Oriana is a protagonist we can all relate to—striving to achieve a dream while the world seems to conspire against her. The best parts of the book are when the focus is solely on her and her journey.
However, as the quote suggests, much of this book remains unexplained, and while I am generally okay with ambiguity, I found myself feeling lost for much of the story. There are numerous characters and creatures to keep track of, and I struggled to remember who was who or what they looked like. I do believe this is intentional—dreams rarely make sense, so why should the dreamworld follow logical rules? Still, there were sections of the book where I found myself glazing over, especially when the focus shifted to the backstory and history of the dreamworld and its key figures. This might be a nitpick, but there’s also an instance where Oriana’s twin brother’s name changes midway through the story, which only added to my overall confusion.
Despite these issues, I’ve found myself reflecting on this book long after finishing it. It’s a layered and complex story, and its ethereal nature makes it difficult to review. If you're up for the challenge, I would highly recommend it.
Lumberjanes: To The Max Edition, Vol. 1, written by Noelle Stevenson and Grace Ellis, with art by Brooke Allen, is an absolute joy to read. Set at a girls’ sleepover camp, the story follows best friends Jo, April, Mal, Molly, Ripley, and their cabin leader Jen as they embark on a whirlwind adventure filled with mazes, anagram puzzles, capture the flag, battling foxes, mysterious objects, sibling rivalries, and even yetis. Armed with intelligence, strength, badge-winning skills, and, of course, the power of friendship, they’re ready to conquer it all.
I wasn’t prepared for the sense of nostalgia and excitement Lumberjanes stirred in me. It made me want to revisit my Girl Scout days or gather my closest friends for some camping and outdoor fun. The series moves at a relentless pace, and I really appreciated how there’s no downtime. While each issue initially appears to be a stand-alone adventure, by the end, everything ties together seamlessly, leaving plenty of threads to pull on in future stories. I also thought it was clever how each issue connects to a camp badge. Not only do these badges add depth to the narrative, but they also subtly reveal the strengths and weaknesses of the characters.
As much as I enjoyed the fast pace, it did have a downside— the characters didn’t feel as fully developed as I hoped. I often found myself confusing Jo and Mal, and though I connected more with April, Ripley, and Jen, I was never able to fully grasp the personalities of all the girls. From the back matter of this volume, it seems the creators weren’t sure how the series would be received. This likely influenced their decision to focus on telling a complete, short story, just in case the series was canceled. My hope is that future volumes will give these characters more room to grow and allow us to better understand them.
Brooke Allen’s art is a perfect match for the story. She captures the joy and fun of the girls' adventures, while also conveying the danger and excitement in a way that keeps the stakes high. Maarta Laiho’s colors are a huge part of that balance. The story often relies on the characters’ facial expressions and the background details to convey emotions, and Laiho’s colors really bring those moments to life. Each character stands out clearly with distinct features and outfits, which makes them easily identifiable. For example, you can instantly tell that Jen is the responsible leader just by looking at her neat, professional clothing. In contrast, Ripley’s playful, disheveled appearance reflects her easily distracted nature.
I also want to highlight Aubrey Aiese’s lettering, which adds an extra layer of expression to the dialogue. The way she varies the size and thickness of the letters within thought bubbles helps convey the characters’ excitement or fear. You can practically hear the voices of the characters, thanks to how the letters are stylized.
Overall, Lumberjanes is an outstanding collaboration between all involved. Without the contribution of each of these talented women, the final product wouldn’t have the same energy and charm.
In Rhapsodic, the first book in The Bargainer series, we follow Callypso Lillis—Callie for short—who, at the age of sixteen, makes a life-altering mistake. The siren inside her is beginning to emerge, and one fateful night, she defends herself against her abusive stepfather. With nowhere to turn and no one to call, she calls upon The Bargainer, a dangerous Fae known for granting favors at a steep price—one he can collect at any time.
Once Callie receives her first favor, she finds herself unable to stop asking for more, despite knowing the cost. Seven years later, and with many favors granted, The Bargainer returns to collect what he’s owed, leaving Callie to wonder why he disappeared seven years ago, what he truly wants from her, and whether he’s—surprisingly—flirting with her. As they work together to solve a mystery plaguing his kingdom, Callie realizes that what she once thought was a simple crush might not have been so trivial after all.
Right from the start, I should note that this book features an age gap romance. The narrative alternates between Callie's initial meeting with The Bargainer and their present-day interactions. As many reviewers have pointed out, this can feel a little strange, but I personally didn’t find it problematic. Their relationship is primarily built on friendship, with The Bargainer helping Callie process her trauma. That said, in the present-day storyline, I found some of their conversations about the past cringeworthy. I wish certain elements of their relationship felt more natural and centered around growth rather than destiny.
One of the strongest aspects of the book is its world-building. I loved the concept of characters having alternate personas that represent their basic human instincts. Callie, for instance, must control her siren side to prevent it from harming others. I also found Callie to be a compelling character. Her pain, her sense of being an outcast, and her longing to be seen as "normal" resonated with me.
Despite the age gap, it was the slow-burn romance between Callie and The Bargainer that kept me hooked. The way their relationship evolved felt believable, and the anticipation of when they’d finally get together made it hard to put this book down.
That said, this book felt a bit like fast food: quick and satisfying in the moment, but not something I’d return to again or crave more of. As a reader, I wanted more depth—both in the world and with the side characters. The ending, in particular, left me feeling unsatisfied. I found myself thinking, You don’t need a man to fix you! It felt like the resolution leaned a little too heavily on a romantic fix rather than Callie finding her own strength.
Overall, I’d recommend this book as a quick, light read—more of a snack before diving into something with a bit more substance. While it offers a fun, slow-burn romance, it doesn't quite dig deep enough to make me want to continue the series.