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wardenred's reviews
802 reviews
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
They had been given to Singing Hills at the age of two. They didn’t remember a time when they hadn’t been asked to see and to remember, to recite back with accuracy and to ask for the truth in whatever form it came in. Along with the food they ate, they took in the knowledge of how important their work was.
This book certainly retains a lot of the charm of the previous two in the series. However, I'm sad to say it left me somewhat less engrossed. Perhaps even—*gasp*—a little detached. I appreciate how the author once again found a new way to play with the story-within-a-story structure and explore the nature of storytelling. However, in this case, I feel like the selected narrative devices and methods didn't fit the confines of a novella. With the narrative being less focused, it begged for some room to breathe, and 100 pages just can't deliver much of that. There were definitely parts of the book that I adored, the ones where the special essence of the Riverlands came to the forefront, and I would have so loved to spend more time journey through this region and getting to know the tapestry of stories it's made of. The lack of it feels almost like a missed opportunity.
On the other hand, it was lovely to see more of Chih and to witness them coming more into their own as an actual character and not just the one who records others' stories. I really liked seeing them contemplate the concepts the narrative is made of, question things that appeared unquestionable before, come to their own conclusion. And Almost Brilliant, the best bird, is back again here, too! Somehow, their interactions with Chih here were even more compelling to me than in the first novella. I also adore how the setting continues to be so vibrant and rich and layered. No matter how I felt about the plot in this book, I continue loving the series and am looking forward to further explorations of storyteling in the next installments.
Graphic: Death
Moderate: Animal death, Violence, Blood, and Abandonment
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
"I think our ex-boyfriend might be a psychopath, you know.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!”
I somehow didn't realize this was a YA book going in. I'm sure I knew it at some point back when I bought it, but my brain refused to retain this information. So I was a tiny bit disappointed at first to be faced with all the late-teens messiness... up until I got a few chapters in and, wow, yay! Late-teens messiness! Excellently well-done and so dramatic and just what a reality show book should be! Honestly, I just loved it so much. Even though I do still feel that the whole "second chance romance! the one that got away!" premise of the reality show in the middle of it all makes little sense when most of the characters are 18-ish. Like, how does a guy that age already have that many exes for the producers to pick and choose from? Wouldn't it overall make more sense to create this type of show with people in their mid-twenties and beyond who already have some histories and baggage? Really, the premise is shaky when you think about it too hard, and yet the execution was so entertaining it got me to suspend my disbelief.
Even though this book has a Swiftie title, the songs that played in the back of mind as I read were definitely Olivia Rodrigo's (mostly Vampire and Deja Vu, if you're curious). Considering that the teen celebrity drama that inspired the book's idea, according to Sophei Gonzales's post about it on Goodreads, was the Olivia-Sabrina-Joshua triangle, I'd say it speaks well of the author's ability to capture the vibes.
A lot of the plot here hinges on various miscommunications, and normally, I'm wary of the trope, but here, it just works so well. Not really in the "all of their reasons to miscommunicate make rational sense" way, but more like, "half the time they'll all being so messy and petty and overdramatic, and yeah, I can see how that's exactly the point." Interestingly enough, somehow most of the characters work through it all toward sharing a bunch of genuine, empathetic moments, and those ended up blending surprisingly well with the drama. I really liked how, in spite of the whole premise being "show business pits girls against girls for the sake of entertainment," these girls all found their own ways to bond and grow and be so much more than accessories to the guy in the middle of it all. I was particularly proud of Kim's choices revealed very very late in the book.
The romance itself was pretty cute with some serious moments. I liked how Maya's issues overlapped with Skye's and how their relationship got them to inspect and evaluate a bunch of their choices. I also liked how easy to tell apart their voices were in the early part of the book. Unfortunately, that was something that didn't quite last through the entire book. In some ways, it made sense they would pick up some turns of phrase and such from each other while spending time in such close quarters. But it felt more like an overall blending of two previously distinct voices, and I guess I would have liked a bit more editing to prevent that.
Graphic: Emotional abuse, Infidelity, Misogyny, Sexism, and Alcohol
Moderate: Abandonment
Minor: Biphobia
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Apparently magic was as inherently fiddly as Latin grammar, and required the same sort of attention to detail even when constructing what Courcey described as a minor object imbuement.
I had such high hopes for this book, but for the most part, it just kind of left me confused. I think it's because of certain structural choices, especially in the beginning. There's this prologue (I don't care it's called Chapter 1 when it is, for all intents and purposes, a prologue) that introduces a character in a stressful, emotionally charged, obviously high-stakes situation, provides a glimpse of his personal history, and makes the reader wonder what happens next. Then it ends, and we get to meet the actual leads in a situation that is a lot more mundane, sort of awkward, and involves lots and lots of telling about the magic system. And apparently the character from the yes-that's-a-prologue is basically just a plot device to build a mystery around. Though of course the mystery is now undermined by the information given away in the definitely-a-prologue-whatever-you-call-it.
Honestly, I feel this beginning did the story a huge disservice. It also kind of undermined Robin and Edwin, the actual protagonists, for a while there. At least for me. Instead of just, you know, meeting them on the page and getting to know them and becoming invested, I felt let down by their presence because they weren't really offering me what the beginning of the book teased. And the structural problems didn't fully stop there, they just became less glaring. But honestly, the balance between the romance and the mystery was rather off at times, and the relationship felt kind of oddly paced, as if the author really, really wanted to rush the slow burn but stopped herself from doing so for some reason. Or, well, that was the vibe for me.
I did really enjoy the worldbuilding, especially the magic system. It's intricate and fascinating and has some great depth. The main characters, once I got over that "let down" feeling, were really fun to follow. I empathized with Robin a lot, and Edwin had some beautiful moments. I overall enjoyed how the "opposites attract" trope was handled here. The journey had its pacing-related hiccups, but the ending still felt well-earned. And the external plot also delivered its share of interesting moments. It was just that, sadly, I had to constantly make an effort to stay in the loop, and I attribute it mainly to the book's structural flaws overlapping with my usual "fix it" attitude. I loved the idea of it, I just kept thinking about ways to tweak the execution.
Graphic: Bullying, Misogyny, and Sexual content
Moderate: Homophobia
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
It wasn’t that she didn’t like people. It was only that she liked books more. They didn’t fuss or judge or mock or reject. They invited you in, fluffed up the pillows on the couch, offered you tea and toast, and shared their hearts with no expectation that you’d do anything more than absorb what they had to give.
I'm not sure why it took me so long to get through this book. Every time I picked it up, I really enjoyed it, but the moment I got distracted, I put it away so thoroughly it took me days to come back for another few chapters. I guess for the most part that was just some discrepancy between the story and my mental state, because really, this is a super nice cozy fantasy. Pretty much everything I expect from the genre: books, cooking, picturesque setting, a close-knit community, and a semi-distant threat of actual big real world problems that provides a looming shadow over the quaint sweetness, turning it from an unrelatable utopia into a reminder that we can carve out these islands of peace and hope even in the dark\ times.
I really enjoyed the more whimsical elements of the worldbuilding: the anxious living plant friend, the winged cats, the merhorses. The magic system was pretty fun, and Kiela's attempts to nail the spellwork resulted in some nearly laugh-out-loud moments for me. Oh, and Kiela herself was a great protagonist. I've seen reviews calling her stuff like "purposefully unlikable at first, but gets better," and that kind of breaks my heart, because come onnnn. How is she all that unlikable? She's just a socially awkward bookworm who doesn't know how to do this people thing! It takes her some time, as well as trial and error, to be brave enough to commit to it! There's nothing wrong with not knowing how to people, especially when you're also dealing with, you know, your whole life having burned around you. :(
All that said, the book wasn't entirely without faults for me. There was a point around the middle when the story kind of started meandering, as if the narrative itself wasn't sure of its direction. And then there's this weird thing about the romantic plotline (which I otherwise really liked). How does Kiela not remember Larran? She wasn't *that* young when her parents took her away from the island. Idk, this detail just kept bugging me throughout the story, even when it was no longer being mentioned.
But, yeah. All in all, this was great, and I might even reread it one day when I'm either less anxious all the time or experience a different vibe of anxiety that lets me get more in tune with cozy reads like this.
Graphic: Grief and Fire/Fire injury
Moderate: Child abuse, Domestic abuse, Death of parent, and War
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? It's complicated
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.5
He glided through life with effortless confidence and a bottomless appetite for crushing his enemies.
This book sounded like something I was practically doomed to love, but alas, it didn’t quite work out between us. Mostly because it was so full of unlikable people who, with one single exception, committed the crime of also being thoroughly unentertaining. Like, seriously, reading about bad people doing bad things for bad reasons is a special sort of drug, but they must be compelling. They must be three-dimensional. They must be, in some ways that make me question too much about myself, relatable. Or at the very least, they should be fun.
Here, we’ve got an oddly small, claustrophobic political full of people who don’t give a damn about any of the causes they supposedly champion, and they’re all so, so boring. Like, completely flat. I suppose Lennie has her moments, a couple of times, but those are also the times when she’s very openly used as a plot device and the entertainment comes from what she does, not who she is. It is highly unclear why she does it. Beyond the fact that she probably wants power, but why, to what end, with which nuances? Inquiring minds shall never know.
The one actually interesting unlikable character here is Thom, the MC, and he’s the one who fully carried the first half of the novel for me. He’s just a complete sociopathic bastard with so many layers of coldness, ruthlessness, callousness and fake charm to him, and I just wanted to dig into those layers and see if there might be something like a heart buried beneath them. I kind of hated him throughout, but he was really fun to hate. And amidst it all, he had some surprisingly positive moments, too, like his totally chill reaction to his bi awakening.
Clay, on his part, was rather blah, especially during the first half of the book. He’s probably one of the better people in this whole menagerie, but his brand of “clueless dork“ charm was a miss for me, and I couldn’t begin to feel invested in his chapters. That changed around the middle of the story when the guys started spending more time alone in his apartment and he started gaining some depth. That’s coincidentally when I began slowly buying into the romance and sensing some of the chemistry that was supposedly oh so evident to everyone but the leads. I guess in the end I didn’t mind seeing them reach their HEA but I also wasn’t particularly rooting for them. When the HEA came, I might have actually got a bit distracted by counting the plot holes and hanging plot threads…
Moderate: Bullying
3.75
Why wouldn’t you have Mark arrested? I mean, it makes sense why you wouldn’t. But how would you articulate your reasons?
This was a difficult book for me to get through for many reasons, not least of them being, of course, the subject matter. The premise is this: the author sits down to talk to a former friend who sexually assaulted her when they were younger. The execution involves a lot of meandering in circles, questioning the same things over and over, and, in a rather meta way, meditating on the process of writing this very book. It often felt like reading a highly personal diary, especially what with the short, often disjointed chapters and the lack of proper punctuation in dialogue.
On one hand, I feel this is such an important and relatable exploration of a sensitive subject matter. There are these awful things that can happen to you, and you’re expected to feel a certain way about them, but reality can be way more complex and nuanced, and it can take a lot of soul-searching and courage to call things what you are, to admit your own feelings, to begin to figure out how to cope. On the other hand, I felt increasingly uncomfortable as I read by how close the author kept coming to… idk, almost taking the perpetrator’s side? She sets out to talk to him because she wants to understand the reasons behind his crime, but it keeps feeling like she’s searching for excuses instead. All those transcripts of their conversations were often difficult for me to read because of how apologetic and oh-so-grateful for his agreement to talk to her she was, and how she kept being so reassuring and basically trying to shield the guy from too much guilt and shame.
It did help that she approached it with a lot of self-awareness, including interactions with her loved ones calling her out on it. But at the same time, when she just kept doing the same thing, I had to kind of wonder, whose side was she on? Why not her own? And like, I don’t want to discard the fact that stuff like this can be a valid part of processing a fraught, complex, messy, painful situation. Trying to shoulder the responsibility for something another person did to you is often a way to assume control. But it was just a thing that happened over and over, that apologetic gratitude extended toward someone she’s still having nightmares about, that kept making me so incredibly frustrated.
Graphic: Rape, Grief, and Death of parent
Moderate: Mental illness
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
You know those movies where a serial killer locks people in a room with a trap that’s about go grind them into pâté? This is that meets Narnia, right?
This was kind of an acquired taste for me. At the beginning, I kind of really liked the idea but found it hard to vibe with the execution. Everything was super rushed—less actual storytelling, more “wink wink, nudge nudge, you’re certainly familiar with premises and tropes like this, so here are some broad strokes to get you going.“ The main cast went through three different designs each in a matter of pages (teenagers in the flashback, forty-somethings in the present, heroes in the fantasy world). It was honestly pretty confusing.
I’m glad I stuck with it past this initial jumble though, because once I got better oriented, the story sucked me right in. The grimdark setting built in-universe on teenage power fantasies and bits and pieces of zeitgeist feels more videogame than tabletop, and the character development remains sparse, but there are a lot of small clever things here that I enjoyed. Such as Ash’s genre-savviness and the increasingly hard choices the party had to make. Also, the art style here is really striking and creates a dark, oppressive atmosphere that perfectly matches the story. All in all, I’m quite likely to pick up more volumes.
Graphic: Body horror, Death, Gore, Blood, and War
Moderate: Animal death
Minor: Addiction
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.25
No one could have imagined what the Empress did. No one will be able to imagine the next terrible thing that happens.
This trilogy as a whole was sure a wild ride, and I’m going to miss Ghadid and the deserts and cities around it. As far as this book specifically goes, it’s so hard to talk about it because it wraps up so much from all over the series. And in terms of plotting and worldbuilding it does it so exceptionally well! It truly completes the story in all the ways that matter. As a series conclusion, it’s definitely a five-star read, but at the same time, I just can’t rate it as high as the previous one. Because while it has all the elements to wrap up the overarching story, the way they’re put together is not exactly smooth.
I really appreciate how K.A. Doore gives each of the protagonists such a unique voice and outlook. Illi is completely unlike Thana and Amastan, and it took me a bit to get used to seeing this world through her eyes. She’s definitely a strong character, well-suited for telling this part of the story. But at the same time, I just couldn’t stop comparing her with Thana, because I’ve read their books so close together and because Illi goes through a bunch of very similar story beats, like leaving the city with a caravan or working closely with Heru. And while the way Illi tackles all these things is completely inline with her personality and arc and it wouldn’t make sense for her to be just like Thana, I just loved how Thana had this chemistry with everyone and was constantly conflicted and tended to keep me on the edge of my seat wondering what she’d choose after all.
In contrast, Illi’s arc is fairly predictable. A minor character in the previous book, she was the one who stayed in Ghadid back then while Thana went off adventuring, and so she was among those who bore the brunt of the Big Awful Thing That Changed Everything, the thing that Thana hardly had the time to start processing amidst her book’s events. Now, years later, she has strong (and fairly well-portrayed) PTSD after those events and that forces her to retreat into her shell and be prickly and careful with her affection for other people. And her arc is all about learning that you shouldn’t let fear stop you from loving and living, and that healing is easier when you can lean on others and let them lean on you. Which, cool, great message, except it gets kinda preachy in how it’s delivered and, predictably, makes it harder to put the character into situations where they would have genuine interactions with others and help those others wrap up their own arcs. Which I think was part of the lack of smoothness about the book.
Overall, though, the big plot was quite plainly fantastically resolved. Hetu continued to grumpily entertain every time he showed up. The further expansion of the setting was marvelous. Amastan and Yutif did meet again, and it was nothing like I imagined and everything I could wish for. Every time Thana and Mo appeared on the page together, no matter what dark shit was happening around them, I wanted to squee. Canthem was a great new character to meet. I loved how good they were for Illi, they’re overall the sort of character I’d love to be friends with, and past a bit of awkwardness at their introduction, I felt this was great nonbinary rep.
Definitely going to recommend the series to all fantasy lovers hungry for rich worldbuilding, queernorm settings, and big, diverse casts with plenty of character growth.
Graphic: Body horror, Gore, Mental illness, Self harm, Violence, Blood, Grief, and Murder
Moderate: Ableism
Minor: Confinement and Slavery
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
Wow! I really enjoyed the first book in this series, but this one? This one is where it’s at. Such a stunning and exciting example of everything I love about the fantasy genre. Not a hint of the dreaded middle book syndrome here, just lots of plot development, expanded worldbuilding, and truly fantastic characters.
Where The Perfect Assassin was a contained, city-based mystery, this book takes its characters beyond Ghadid and introduces us to the wider world and the bigger challenges. What starts as an attempt to finish a tricky assassination contract turns into a dark, messy, high-stakes journey through the desert with a visit to the heart of the Empire that wants to absorb Ghadid, and also necromancy, possession, political plotting, and immortality-seeking villains. The way new layers get constantly added to the whole situation is glorious. The plot unravels with so many twists and turns, and the last 4-5 chapters in particular are *such* a wild ride, like, I couldn’t look away from the page for a moment, the whole thing’s just. Asdfghjkl.
Thana turned out to be a super compelling protagonist, torn between her desire to live up to her legendary mother’s legacy and to break out of that legacy’s shadow. She has a great arc, and I love how resourceful, smart, and flawed she is. Also, she’s the type of character who has some sort of chemistry pretty much with everyone else, and that makes all the interactions so exciting. Her easy partnership with Amastan that was just ever so slightly tinged with jealousy, her slow-burn romantic dynamic with Mo, the whole convoluted thing with Heru. Speaking of Heru, he’s SUCH an amazing character! I started off really disliking him and wishing Thana all the luck in her original goal to murder him. Then the more page time he got, the more entertaining he became, and by the end I had to admit I’ve fallen in love with this snarky nerd who might be kinda evil, but it’s for science.
It was also so fun to meet Amastan again, but this time seeing him in the side character position. I loved witnessing his continued growth and development, and his characterization in the previous book was so strong that I feel like I’ve had no trouble guessing at how he must have been internalizing this one’s events, what’s been going through his head, etc. Honestly, the characterization in this series just really is great. As great as the worldbuilding.
In other words: this was incredible, can’t wait to pick up the final part of the trilogy, and also, I want a zombie camel.
Graphic: Death, Gore, Self harm, Blood, Murder, and Injury/Injury detail
Moderate: Animal death, Slavery, and Fire/Fire injury
Minor: Death of parent
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.75
Wretched places, villages.
Such a delightful and slightly bittersweet read with wintry vibes. I absolutely fell in love with the characters. The protagonists especially, but really, the cast is full of flawed and lovable individuals—some perhaps less lovable than others, and yet all equally compelling. Seriously, this tiny post-WW2 village enchanted me in the darkest way. Everyone here is so broken, and yet life goes on. Well, for everyone who doesn’t end up murdered, that is.
Speaking of the murders, I have to admit the mystery felt a tad confusing in how it was laid out. It’s possible that it’s on me because honestly, I was more invested in all the people and relationships than in figuring out the killer’s identity. But perhaps it’s also because the author’s understandable attempts to obfuscate the truth and keep the reader guessing were a tad awkward at times. Regardless, I enjoyed how the investigation shook up the community, and when the reveal came, it was the kind of surprise that made perfect sense and I actually really liked the who and the why.
The romance part is beautifully done. I just absolutely adored how James and Leo’s personal arcs intersected and what came of it. James is a village doctor, a good, honest, kind man dealing with PTSD from the war and constantly convincing himself that everything is fine, all the people around him are perfectly nice and normal, and nothing nefarious ever goes on anywhere. These affirmations begin to lose plausibility fast when a murder happens in the community, though. Meanwhile, Leo is a spy tasked with looking into said murder. Where James consciously lies to himself about the world, Leo lies to the world about himself. His existence is a kaleidoscope of fake identities and fictional stories, and he doesn’t even know at this point who he is underneath all that. Except when he gets a tiny bit stuck in Wychcomb St. Mary and starts interacting with the locals—particularly with James, but not just him—he starts stumbling upon the reality behind his own masks.
It was really great to see these two go from the initial clash to growing intimacy, and to witness how their developing relationship forced them to challenge and adjust their coping mechanisms. In big part thanks to James, Leo dug deeper underneath his masks and started trying to be honest with someone else. In big part thanks to Leo, James stopped turning away from the question of, “How do I live in a world where people are capable of doing awful things to each other?“ and started seeking an answer. The book ends with a HFN rather than a HEA, both in terms of the romance and their personal journeys, but hey, that’s why I’m definitely going to pick up the sequel.
I also really, really liked how the whole theme of secrets and lies permeated the entire village. No character left behind. At least one skeleton in every closet. Glorious. Also, for an m/m romance this book has so many awesome female characters! Fifteen-year-old Wendy with her quick mind, the elderly ladies from Little Briars, Mary Griffiths with her secrets and her truths—I love them all.
Graphic: Death, Medical content, and Murder
Moderate: War