wardenred's reviews
842 reviews

This book is basically the epitome of the hurt/comfort trope, and it’s done really well at that. The hurt and the comfort aspects are fairly balanced and tightly interwoven, so I would recommend paying close attention to the trigger warnings. This is very much a story of an abuse survivor confronting the demons of his past before taking a step into the future, and nothing about his experience is downplayed. Which, in fact, was my favorite part of the book, even if so many scenes genuinely hurt to read. In a kinda cathartic way, though, because of how isncerely and respectfully the painful things were depicted.

In general, the book takes the common tropes of the omegaverse genre that are most commonly used for titillation and quite thoroughly interrogates the psychological and social implications between them. There are lots of parallels to draw with the real world here, especially in terms of the way law systems treat society’s most vulnerable members, often perpetuating cycles of abuse. And at the same time, the overall tone somehow remains so focused on hope and healing. I loved the dynamic between Braden and Coll from start to finish, and I loved them both as characters. I also adored all the descriptions of the Australian wildlife that served as the backdrop, and how both characters interacted with it: Braden through his photography, Coll through his sheer love for the woods and his job as a forest guardian.

One thing that I can maybe complain about is that the structure was a bit… idk, sloppy? Like, the way certain plot beats were placed felt distinctly off. I attribute it to the fact that the author is more used to writing forever serials where different structural conventions come into play compared to the shorter, self-contained novel format. This didn’t spoil the enjoyment of the story for me at all, though!

For such a short novel, there’s a stunning amount of fascinating worldbuilding here. So many details that kept me engrossed throughout: magical artifacts, the gods’ involvement, nature turning against people, the politics, the backstory behind it all. Every aspect of this world is super intriguing even in itself, and together they form a whole that’s just chef’s kiss. I’d absolutely love to read more stories set in this world. I’d love to play in a TTRPG campaign set there. I just want more of it!

The story itself, however, felt a bit rushed, or rather, just oddly paced. The beginning unfolded slowly, at least in terms of the book’s overall length, and then things started moving faster and faster, especially where the romance was concerned. There were multiple instances when it felt like the characters jumped to conclusions instead of actually thinking, or their feelings changed in the blink of an eye without much build-up. As a result, it was difficult for me to connect with their budding relationship, even though this blend of enemies to lovers and arranged marriage is a mixture after my own heart. 

I really liked Skye, the protagonist, and the ethical dilemmas he was facing throughout the story. At the beginning, he is presented as a genuinely good man asked to do a bad thing for good reasons, but those reasons get more and more muddled as he leaves his home and learns more about the world around him. It was so interesting to follow him being affected by all the secrets, lies, and half-truths coming to life, although there were points where I wished some of these things were inspected deeper—there were parts that definitely felt rushed. Perhaps the story needed a bit more room to breathe so that the gorgeous worldbuilding and the plot could be better balanced. Overall, though, it was really enjoyable—and did I mention I want more from this setting? Because I so do.

I was really looking forward to this book because it sounded like it might have one of my favorite characte dynamics. Enemies/rivals to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, wet cat/golden retriever—what's not to love? And yes, the book does indeed keep this promise, but something about the execution fell a bit flat to me. I liked both leads, their relationship developed as I would expect in terms of the above-mentioned tropes, but I just failed to see much chemistry. That's the problem with "opposites attract" stories: there's that line where "they're so different, they can compliment each other really well" can turn into "they're so different, they're better off apart," and where it lies depends as much on the reader as on the book itself. Unfortunately, in this case for me the characters ended up too different in some of the core aspects of their personalities for me to ship them.

I did, however, very much like them as separate characters. Both Henry and Theo are really well-developed and come alive on the page. I loved the supporting characters around them, too, and all the webs of relationships that have shaped them: their relationships with their families, coaches, to an extent their respective federations and fans. I emapthized with Henry's anxiety and cheered on Theo's commitment to establishing borders with his mother. Really, I like them both so much! I just could take or leave them together.

The best thing about the book for me is how well-research it is. Must be written by a fellow figure skating fan, yay! I wish people making skating movies and tv shows took half of the effort to make sure all the technicalities about the various moves, training process, competitions etc rang true. The only problem was with the Grand Prix assignments, as for both guys to share the same event one of them had to have finished last year's Worlds outside of the podium, which... doesn't seem like a thing that has happened? But I guess I can handwave just this one thing.

I listened to this one as an audiobook, and honestly, its only downside as a bedtime story was that the banter constantly made me giggle. It is, apparently, hard to fall asleep while giggling. Who knew? Seriously, I'm now putting Emily Henry right up there with Talia Hibbert as one of my favorite banter-oriented romance writers. The witty dialogue is my favorite part of the book.

In terms of... let's call it emotional temperature I feel like the fun, heart-warming aspects of the book were well-balanced with the heavier, more dramatic ones: January's grief and complex emotions about her father, Gus's abandonment issues, all those research conversations with former cult members. In terms of plot structure, however, I think there were parts where the narrative meandered as it tried to encompass all the arcs and small plotlines. All the big stuff got properly developed and wrapped up, but there were definitely parts of the story that left me with a nagging "okay, but I still have questions about X / couldn't Y have been explored slightly more?" feeling.

Tbh I feel this story could have benefitted from being dual POV. Perhaps some parts of it could have been better delivered through Gus's part, and besides, I really wish I could get to know Gus better. I wanted to actually *see* his arc, his emotional struggles, the way he was caught between the pain of his divorce and the joy of falling for January. As it was, I didn't really got a feel for his personality, only for his charisma and for the way January perceived him—but what if she was wrong about things? I don't know, there's this weird aftertaste of mistrust, lol. Also, I would have liked to see more of his writing process. Show me this man trying to pen a romcom, don't just tell me he's doing it!

With January on the other hand, I definitely feel like I've got to know her plenty and I enjoyed her arc a lot, especially all the parts that had to do with her parents and how their relationship shaped her. I liked the balance she found between focusing on the good in the world and acknowledging that some things aren't as clear-cut and simple as she's been trying to believe.

All in all, this is an excellent, witty, sometimes cheesy love story with Hallmark vibes. Any flaws it has, for me, are easily compensated by the amount of joy it contains.

This was definitely one of the weirder books I've read lately! I feel like it's the kind of novel that is more about shape and vibes than story, and it's rather interesting at that. The prose was simply enchanting; it pulled me in even when little was happening. I was fascinated by the use of first person plural POV—it's always "we," the field hockey team being the real main character. There are definitely downsides to this, such as never getting to delve deep enough into each specific girl's mind to really get to know her, but at the same time, it definitely made managing all the numerous characters easier and created a cool effect that was both intimate and cinematic. 

The premise itself is super cool: a field hockey team of high school girls in the 1980s resorts to witchcraft to start winning games. Or do they? All the witchy parts are deliberately ambiguous and surreal. Maybe there's really magic happening here, or maybe it's just a thing the girls choose to believe—because they're growing up so close to Salem, because it gives them the excuse to do shit they find liberating, because why the hell not. It's not really about witchcraft, anyway, it's about girlhood. It just so happens that the two have a lot in common.

I've made a bunch of notes about the book's structure and highlighted plenty of quotes, and I'm pretty sure I'l lb e thinking about this one for some days or weeks to come. The vibes really stuck with me. My one complaint is, I wish there was a little more in the way of actual plot.

From the blurb, the cover, and a couple of reviews, I except a cross between Pretty Little Liars and Abigail Haas's YA thrillers, served with dark academia vibes. Unfortunately, I'll have to look for something else to satisfy those cravings. 

My main problem with the book is that there's so much build up to the stuff that's supposed to be the meat of the story and all of it takes so long that by the time we get there, it's nearly impossible not to lose interest already. Especially since there's not a single compelling character in sight to latch onto: everyone is bland, boring, and stereotypical. And then when the build-up supposedly pays off, things get even worse, because those reveals highly count as anything paying off. The mystery is transparent to the point of embarrassment. The killer may have as well just introduced themself in the first chapter or something. And the whole deal around the insular clique/secret society in the middle of the private school is just... eh. There's all that tension in the beginning with the MC not wanting her brother to join because then he'd know about the awful things her group's done and the dramatic suspense around the tests newbies have to go through. And then when it's finally explained, it's a bunch of embarrassing stuff drunk teenagers come up with at parties when one of them chooses dare. Humiliating and stupid for sure, but damn, not what you expect to read about when the build up to it hints at unspeakable crimes!

Speaking of Jill's relationship with her brother, I guess this was the one thing that kept me reading. I wasn't a fan of either of the characters, but there was some real feeling there, now and then—a welcome change from the flatness of everything around it.

I've been on a messy YA drama books kick lately, and this is a great addition to the list. I was drawn in by the "friends to enemies to lovers" trope that I adore wholeheartedly, and while it wasn't exactly what I've imagined, I enjoyed the rendition. There's such a complex tangle of emotions between the characters and such a layered history to their relationship despite their young age, it was a delight to dig into. Both of them also felt very realistic, with pretty much exactly the amount of poop jokes and bottling up feelings you'd expect from a couple of teenage boys. And I also really enjoyed the side plot with Ridley, the MC's best friend: she clearly meant well in some aspects, despite her approach very much lacking nuance, and was incredibly shitty and controlling in others, and the way Holc treated her also fluctuated between "pretty bad" and "very reasonable," and it was so easy to lean into the toxic mess of it all, but they somehow got to a place that gave me hope their friendship might eventually persevere.

I enjoyed the discussion of the limitations fame places on a person, and generally the show biz-related parts. The name-dropping and pop-culture references that grounded the story in the specific period were fun. That kind of stuff really dates the story, but I feel like this book kind of benefits from focusing on, "this is how certain things were in the early 2020s specifically" in terms of things like the biz's and especially the public's perception of queer artists in particular. Also, it was just fun somehow to see some of the artists and songs from my own playlists namedropped on the page.

One of my favorite storylines included Holc's relationship with his father: how rocky it was in certain places, but how solid the foundation of it was underneath. The scenes Holc had with his dad's employees were also pretty awesome, between all the fun construction/carpentry details and the bonds he had with these people. I'm just sad that the number of these interactions dwindled down and lost depth as the book progressed in a way that felt low-key artificial: like the author really wanted Holc to come to some revelations on his own, so suddenly he was apart from all the adult influences in his life who could have been there for him. Also, that resulted in the "college vs apprenticeship" subplot being just. Completely dropped. Why.

Oh, and another thing I want to complain about is how Holc's "it's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me" epiphany came too late in the story. I wanted to see some pay off from those revelations, the process of him mending what he's broken and not just the fact of it. I really, really want to know what exactly happened between the final chapter and the epilogue. Actually, it's not even just about Holc and his relationship with Chance, I want to know what drove Chance to make that one certain decision at the end. Kind of almost feels like the story ended too early and is missing a few chapters before the epilogue.

All in all, the fun I had reading definitely outweighs my complaints, but the book does have significant structural issues in the latter half. 

I really enjoyed Never Ever Getting Back Together by Sophie Gonzales earlier this month, and it kind of made me crave more teenage messiness. So when I was looking through the unread books on my ereader and spotted this one by the same author, I felt compelled to crack it open. It didn't 100% scratch the itch because the characters here are just a bit younger and everything is so very high school—I think I liked the mixture of teenage angst and reality tv glitz and glamour a bit better, or maybe it was just more refreshing. But overall, this book is exactly what it promises to be, and it was a really fun reading experience with just the right cocktail of drama and laugh-out-loud quips.

I honestly really like how Sophie Gonzales writes teenagers. She just really, really captures that time when you're already dealing with the big, complex, difficult things, but you don't yet have the experience nor the mental capacity to handle them, so you keep making things worse for yourself in the name of self-preservation and catastrophizing all the wrong parts of the situation and just. You know. Overall living and growing and learning. There's a fine line, I feel, between encapsulating those authentic big emotions and going over the top for drama's sake, and this author walks it beautifully.

One thing I specifically appreciated were all the side characters and how all of them had their own deals and troubles that drove their choices. Some of them—Lara in particular—almost overshadowed the main plotline for me at times. Though Ollie, the MC, consistently drew my attention to his own drama for sure, what with his charming sense of humor and love for music (I really enjoyed all of the music parts in the book, by the way). All in all, this was fun and touching, if a little predictable.

I found this volume more engaging than the first, but also way more depressing. I'm not sure what turn I expected the story to take immediately after the introductory phase that the first part was, but what I got was a deep dive into all the characters in the main group. Given that I'm an absolute sucker for character-driven stories and internal conflicts driving the external plot, I wholeheartedly approve. But damn, all of these people are sure miserable. And for the most part, they've brought it all on themselves. Angela is perhaps the easiest character to empathize is for me because she at least owns her messiness; Ash is the most compelling to follow, because damn.

Despite the focus being on the characters and on filling the reader in on the specifics of their past, the main plot advances, too, if slowly. Just like the title of the volume suggests, the party is split here, and that pretty much always leads to some meandering in actual games. I really appreciate how there are all these nods to the familiar ttrpg structure—it's hard to nail the specifics of interactive storytelling in a non-interactive medium, and the authors here aren't trying to do it 100%, but they do enough to make it recognizable and I like the result. I also like all the outright meta commentary about storytelling and tropes and characters.

Oh, and the way the worldbuilding grows around the story and the characters? Excellent. The Brontё twist in particular was wild, I want more.

Getting into this book was initially a bit of a challenge because of how repetitive the writing was in the early chapters. While I can appreciate the stylistic effect the author was aiming for, constantly seeing entire passages basically twice with a bit of  variation just made my brain check out. This approach to comparing and contrasting the two MCs was fun on the first time and tolerable on the third, but after a few pages it was just. Overkill territory.

Once Avery and Zib were out of their ordinary town and over the wall, though, and the story kicked off in earnest, the prose turned a lot more engaging and easy to follow. It was from that point on that I started getting hooked. The worldbuilding here is an absolute delight: a dark, twisted version of Oz, basically, with the Tarot-themed monarchs and the kind of logic that works precisely because it shouldn't. Technically, it's a tie-in for Seanan McGuire's adult urban fantasy Middlegame, and I feel like while I've caught a few clever connections, I've missed a lot more (it's been years since I read that one). But I feel like this book works on its own pretty well. It also feels at least loosely related to the Wayward Children series, if only because of the "portal fantasy + kids" theme, but also there are just... *gestures vaguely* Vibes. There's nothing that explicitly proves the Up-and-Under fits into that specific cluster of words, but also, if Avery and Zib turned up at Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children after their adventures, I feel they wouldn't be out of place.

What really captivated me was how the narrative plays with storytelling conventions in so many ways. The Hero's Journey structure is there in full view, almost on the nose, and then at crucial moments there are small, clever twists that keep it intact but also infuse the whole thing with new meanings. I also liked that kind of self-aware nature of the narrative, with all the asides about the nature of stories and how they work. I do wonder if this book truly makes a good middle grade story, though, because I thought that many of the elements I found most engaging might fly over kid readers' heads. Then again, perhaps I'm not giving kids enough credit. And surely there are some more whimsical elements of the book that I kind of glossed over while lapping up the meta commentary parts.