Book Review

This Spells Love by Kate Robb

What if one impulsive, margarita-fueled decision could wipe away your worst heartbreak—but at the cost of everything else? In This Spells Love, Kate Robb blends romantic comedy with a dash of magical realism to explore what happens when one woman’s attempt to forget her ex rewrites her entire reality. After a drunken spell with her best friend Dax, her sister, and her eccentric aunt, Gemma wakes up in a world where her ex never existed, her life is nearly unrecognizable, and the one person who’s always mattered most—Dax—no longer remembers her at all. Whimsical and heartfelt, this debut asks a compelling question: if you could undo the past, would you still choose the same future?

Book cover for This Spells Love by Kate Robb.

It’s like Hot Tub Time Machine without the hot tub.

Kate Robb, This Spells Love

There’s real charm in the setup, and the pacing is strong throughout. Robb’s prose is breezy and digestible, with writing that makes it easy to devour chapters without realizing how much time has passed. The magical realism element is understated, more a plot device than a full-on genre shift, which works well for readers who prefer grounded rom-coms. And at its core, the novel is about more than romantic love. It’s about learning to recognize your blind spots, appreciating the people who anchor you, and understanding that healing doesn’t come from rewriting the past. It comes from making peace with it.

But for all its strengths, This Spells Love stumbles where it matters most: character depth. Gemma, as a narrator, is often difficult to root for. Her self-absorption borders on grating, and while the story hinges on her personal growth, it’s hard to feel invested in that journey when she seems oblivious to the emotional needs of those around her. She treats her support system like background noise and rarely reflects on how her actions impact others until late in the book. While this is realistic in some ways, it doesn’t always make for compelling reading.

The side characters—particularly Gemma’s sister and aunt—feel one-dimensional. They appear when needed, serve their purpose, and then retreat until the plot calls for them again. Even Dax, who is arguably the emotional anchor of the novel, is frustratingly underdeveloped. Because the majority of their romance happens in an alternate reality where he’s essentially a different person, the emotional stakes never quite land. The book gestures at a best-friends-to-lovers arc, but it lacks the lived-in warmth and history that make those stories shine. There’s no satisfying build-up to the chemistry; we’re simply told it exists, and then expected to believe it transcends timelines.

The predictable path is boring. And you miss out on the chance to try some really incredible things.

Kate Robb, This Spells Love

That said, there’s something endearing about the concept itself. The idea that love can survive (thrive!) through a fractured reality is a powerful one. And while the execution is imperfect, the themes resonate. Gemma’s realization that Dax is her constant, the one person who feels like home no matter the version, lands with a quiet poignancy. It’s not quite the sweeping romance it could have been, but it’s earnest. And sometimes, that’s enough.

This Spells Love is a flawed but engaging debut. It may not deliver on all its witchy promises, and it might leave some readers wanting more from its characters and emotional arcs. Still, for an afternoon curled up with something light and slightly magical, it scratches the itch for cozy fall vibes. Just don’t expect potions, pentagrams, or a deeply fleshed-out love story. This one’s more about the lesson learned than the spell cast.

Thank you to NetGalley and Dial Press / Random House Publishing Group for sharing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review

Keya Das’s Second Act by Sopan Deb

Keya Das’s Second Act by Sopan Deb is a poignant novel about grief and forgiveness that follows a Bengali American family reeling from the sudden loss of their daughter and sister, titular character Keya Das. Each member of the family regrets not being more supportive when Keya came out, and now it’s too late to do anything about it…or is it? The novel picks up when Shantanu, Keya’s father, discovers a box containing a play Keya was writing with her girlfriend. It briefly brings Keya back to life for them, so her family embarks on a mission to stage the play to honor her memory and make amends.

Book cover for Keya Das's Second Act by Sopan Deb.

Rejection is often a much more powerful emotion than acceptance.

Sopan Deb, Keya Das’s Second Act

With loss of a child and implied homophobia at the forefront of this novel, this is an emotional read. Grief impacts different people in different ways, and that makes Deb’s cast of characters even more important as they are vehicles through which readers can experience the central themes in this story. Following Keya’s death, Shantanu isolates himself from his family, his wife Chaitali tries to move forward with her own life, and their eldest daughter Mitali tries to distance herself from her sorrow — all very relatable coping mechanisms. But because their journeys are so disparate, it’s a little challenging to keep up with the various side characters that help to bring the family back together. None of them are developed enough, which sometimes makes their heavy influence on our key characters a little difficult to understand. The ultimate message is to encourage leaning on community to help assuage and process the big feelings that occur during times of grief, but the poignancy of that takeaway sometimes gets lost in Deb’s delivery.

I particularly enjoyed the Bengali words interspersed throughout otherwise English language sentences. As a Bengali American who grew up in a bilingual household within a diaspora community, that is exactly how we speak! I’ve seen criticism about the lack of a glossary or sufficient context clues to decode the meaning of select Bengali phrases in other reviews for this novel; however, I like to view this creative choice as a postcolonial resistance to the residual effects of Orientalist policies that defined English as the medium of instruction and the language of knowledge itself. Deb’s language choice — his refusal to translate, sanitize, or suppress the story he wanted to elevate — empowers him to seize back control of how he defines himself in a postcolonial reality still very much influenced by the lingering aftereffects of imperialism.

But more than anything, they each blamed themselves. In their own ways, they had made Keya feel unseen.

Sopan Deb, Keya Das’s Second Act

The one thing I really struggled with in this novel was lack of LGBTQ+ representation. Yes, Keya is gay, but her identity felt like a plot device for characters who didn’t want to accept her sexuality when she was still alive. They took her manuscript, interpreted it for the stage as they saw fit, and essentially used it for their own devices. For lack of a better term, the allyship after the fact felt performative. I realize with a tragedy like this, catharsis just might be the best we can hope to achieve since it’s too late to apologize to Keya or treat her the way she deserved. Still, I expected to see more positive and normalized representation. Keya’s lack of voice in this aspect of the novel has me going back and forth with classifying this novel within the LGBTQ+ category.

For all the heavy themes that form the foundation of this novel, it is surprisingly heartwarming and hopeful. Keya Das’s Second Act begins with characters weighed down by grief, regret, and trauma, and Deb navigates them through a healing journey that leaves them in a better place. This novel reminds readers it isn’t too late for us to take the time to listen and carefully consider how our actions affect the people in our lives. And even if it is too late — like it was for Keya — her family demonstrates it’s never too late to learn and grow from mistakes.

Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for sharing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review

A Show for Two by Tashie Bhuiyan

A Show for Two by Tashie Bhuiyan is a young adult contemporary romance about aspiring screenwriter Mina Rahman, whose deepest desire is to win the Golden Ivy student film competition that will all but guarantee her a way out of New York City. So when indie film star Emmitt Ramos enrolls at her school under a secret identity to research a role, Mina does whatever she can to have him star in her film. Emmitt is game — so long as she serves as his tour guide in the city. Inspired by Bhuiyan’s real-life experiences when Tom Holland enrolled at her school under similar circumstances, this long-awaited novel doesn’t disappoint!

Book cover for A Show for Two by Tashie Bhuiyan.

I feel such a disconnect from my identity. Sometimes I feel like I’m not Bangladeshi or Muslim enough because there’s so much I don’t know — being diaspora is a huge part of that.

Tashie Bhuiyan, A Show for Two

Much like Bhuiyan’s debut, Counting Down with You, this novel features a Bangladeshi-American protagonist grappling with relatable and decidedly American coming-of-age milestones involving friends, love lives, and decisions about the future. Mina’s South Asian parents have worked hard to provide her with a plethora of wonderful opportunities, but Mina’s ambitions simply don’t align with her parents’ expectations. It results in a deeply fraught relationship with her parents, and watching Mina (and her younger sister) struggle with it was both distressing and cathartic for me. Growing up in a diaspora community presents so many unique challenges that mainstream media absolutely fails to address at this time, so it was incredibly validating to read about a character with complicated, messy feelings that also fail to align with most depictions of young adult stories but are no less valid.

As much as this novel is about Mina and Emmitt falling for each other, I would argue the true romance is between Mina and New York City. She’s desperate to get away from the familial conflict and generational trauma she deals with on a daily basis, so she incorrectly holds her beloved city — “the city that loved me, even when I didn’t love it” — responsible for her grief. But seeing the five boroughs through Emmitt’s eyes reminds her how New York City has helped to nurture and grow her when other influences in her life have failed to measure up.

There are so many of us drowning in plain sight, and so little the rest of us can do to help.

Tashie Bhuiyan, A Show for Two

My favorite aspect of this novel is how Mina’s forced to grapple with the fact that her experiences aren’t the same as her immigrant parents’, and they really aren’t comparable to her friends’ either. Her relationship fumbles are especially frustrating for readers due to her struggle to choose a side, so to speak. She isn’t American enough, nor is she Bangladeshi enough, and she feels judgement from both sides for attempting to walk the hazy line blurring the two defining cultures in her life. However, she leads a hybrid existence created where two cultures converged to form something new, and — as she slowly learns — something uniquely hers. Once she accepts that as her power, she’s able to redefine her dreams in relation to her own hopes and values. It liberates her from many perceived familial and societal expectations that confine her character growth for much of the novel.

I also enjoyed watching Mina and Emmitt be passionate about their artistic pursuits, and I appreciated that Bhuiyan placed value in the arts as both hobby and career — a distinction often mistakenly presented as a dichotomy.

Home doesn’t have to be with your parents. Home can be your friends, your sister, this city. Home can be yourself. Don’t you get it? Home is where you find love.

Tashie Bhuiyan, A Show for Two

Initially, it was difficult for me to like Mina, but upon reflection, I think it’s because I saw way too much of my own teenage self in her! Counting Down with You is much easier to read because it takes place while Katrina’s parents are out of the country. It’s a monthlong, borderline fantasy experience that is as charming and light as it is largely because Katrina deals with familial and cultural issues through internal monologues instead of difficult conversations and experiences with her own family in real-time. And that’s really what makes A Show for Two such a beautiful journey of self-discovery. It validates the most challenging experiences and allows us to watch Mina find beauty and power in her own circumstances.

A Show for Two is a heartwarming and bittersweet read that represents a unique perspective on familiar growing pains. It will soothe your inner child and remind you to be proud of the experiences that have helped to shape you into the person you are today.

Thank you to NetGalley and Inkyard Press for sharing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review

The Maid by Nita Prose

The Maid by Nita Prose is a cozy mystery told from the perspective of Molly Gray, a hotel maid whose steady, routine life is turned upside-down after she discovers a dead guest in one of the rooms she cleans. Molly, an autistic-coded character who struggles to read social cues, facial expressions, and anything that isn’t meant to be taken literally, quickly becomes the prime suspect for the murder after a series of misunderstandings. With help from a cast of eccentric characters and charming proverbs from her recently deceased grandmother, it’s up to Molly to clear her name and clean up the hotel before it’s too late.

Book cover for The Maid by Nita Prose.

Most guests avoid touching maids, especially our hands. They associate us with other people’s grime—never their own.

Nita Prose, The Maid

Prose’s writing style brings a refreshing levity to heavy themes, and that easily makes The Maid one of my favorite new reads this year in particular. Molly is lonely and grieving—two emotions many of us have surely experienced in varying levels over the past year—but her voice is so genuine, too. You want to root for her because she’s just trying her best to be a good person and find joy where she can (even if it’s in cleaning up messes!), just like the rest of us.

The Maid also features an impressive array of characters: half are blatantly devious, and they cast just enough suspicion on the rest of the quirky bunch to really challenge readers, no matter who they might suspect committed the murder. And because Molly takes everyone she meets at face value while readers are compelled to dig beneath the surface, every interaction she has is twice as tricky to decipher. All I’ll say is every one of my guesses ended up not even close to correct. But that’s okay. The guessing is part of the fun!

However…the murder mystery actually isn’t the best part of this novel. It’s Molly! She is a wonderfully nuanced character, and I absolutely adore her. Molly sees the world differently than most people, and while it affects her daily life, it doesn’t stop her from functioning and isn’t her only defining quality. She evokes concern but is never pitied. She’s sweet, thoughtful, compassionate, and absolutely hilarious; she makes mistakes, gets angry, and is held accountable for her actions. If you enjoyed Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman, come get your food! You’re going to love this novel, too.

Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.

Nita Prose, The Maid

Being seen is the most tender form of love, and by giving us a character like Molly who is so original and relatable, Prose calls out to those of us who might also feel invisible in certain aspects of our lives, who yearn to be seen. The Maid is a brilliant debut that reminds us it’s cool to be earnest, to take pride in a job well done, to love family and friends, and to live a good life—no matter how big or small. This is a must-read!

Thank you to NetGalley and Random House Publishing/Ballantine Books for sharing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review

All’s Well by Mona Awad

All’s Well by Mona Awad is a contemporary horror-comedy with a dash of magical realism. It features Miranda Fitch, a college theater professor with debilitating chronic pain, who spends just as much time managing her pain as she does convincing people it’s real. In charge of directing the annual Shakespeare production at her college, she’s decided to produce All’s Well That Ends Well, in spite of a cast of mutinous students who want to put on Macbeth instead. It seems they might have their way and this, too, will be taken from her, until she drowns her sorrows at a bar where she meets three mysterious men and makes a Faustian bargain that appears to change the tides in her favor.

Book cover for All's Well by Mona Awad.

This is a problem play… Neither a tragedy nor a comedy, something in between. Something far more interesting.

Mona Awad, All’s Well

While All’s Well is readable and enjoyable on its own, I would suggest quickly perusing a summary of William Shakespeare’s All’s Well That Ends Well in order to enjoy some of the more subtle nuances in this novel. Scholars classify Shakespeare’s play as a “problem play” because it features several problematic themes and generally unpleasant characters. Furthermore, while it contains a formulaic “happy ending” like all his comedies, it is far from satisfying.

Awad masterfully adapts and subverts key moments from All’s Well That Ends Well. A particular favorite of mine is how she treats the bed trick: Shakespeare uses it to prove that in the dark, all women are alike to men. He also gives women that knowledge, which allows them to wield it like a weapon when necessary. In All’s Well, Miranda consistently confuses or imagines her new beau as though he were her ex-husband, and it similarly turns into an exercise to help her get what she wants. It’s not good or nice, but who said power or control was supposed to be either?

Miranda’s experiences with pain also highlight important social commentary about health care professionals doubting women know their own bodies and pain levels. However, because Miranda is so unlikeable, it’s difficult to feel sympathy for her plight. And that is the problem: Miranda has been managing her pain for so long that it is a part of her personality now. Of course she’s unpleasant when no one ever believes she’s in pain, doctors fail to help her, and people and systems appear to collude against her well-being. But I worry that the novel features so many other wild, twisted elements that this critical issue will be easy to forget for those who doubt or question its validity. That certainly proves Awad’s point, but selective ignorance does nothing to help move the conversation forward for real people.

I need to perform my little bit of pain for you so you’ll know I’m human? … A few pretty tears on my cheeks that you can brush away. Just a delicate little bit of ouch so you know there’s someone in there. So you don’t get too scared of me, am I right?” So you know I’m still a vulnerable thing. That I can be brought down if need be.

Mona Awad, All’s Well

As readers barrel towards the conclusion, the novel takes on a sublime, almost Shakespearean quality (rather appropriately). Unexpected magic twists plots beyond recognition and reverses fates without warning. Miranda seems to find easy solutions for some of her biggest problems, but they haunt her to the point of madness at certain points. It’s challenging to keep up with everything, and not even Awad’s engaging voice could stop me from wishing for an intermission. I was somehow both bored and overwhelmed a little over halfway through the novel because I was ready for the climax. The novel felt overwritten while Miranda was at the peak of her madness, and the denouement didn’t give me what I wanted. As much as I enjoyed the beginning of this book, I was confused and unsatisfied by the end. It seems lazy to argue that was by design, given All’s Well That Ends Well is a problem play. I shouldn’t be left feeling as though someone ripped out the last 20 pages of the book!

All’s Well is a creative, macabre romp unlike anything you’ve read before. At times readers are left feeling unmoored and a little anxious as they doubt whether they want to go where the plot will lead. They’ll question who they’re supposed to be rooting for, and if all can ever actually be well for Miranda. But that’s part of the fun: Awad takes Shakespeare’s problem play…and plays with the problems.

Thank you to NetGalley and Simon & Schuster for sharing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.