Book Review

Among Thieves by M. J. Kuhn

Among Thieves by M. J. Kuhn is a high fantasy adventure featuring a merry band of queer misfits who must work together to pull off an impossible heist. Sounds manageable enough…unless they’re all scheming to double-cross each other the entire time. Brought together by a common enemy — the Guildmaster who rules over the five kingdoms of Thamorr — Ryia Cuatella and this plucky group of outsiders must carefully tread the line that glimmers between monster and menace to dismantle an oppressive magical system that could change life as they know it.

Book cover for Among Thieves by M. J. Kuhn.

Long after gold had lost its charm and men no longer had a taste for bread and wine, words would still hold their value.

M. J. Kuhn, Among Thieves

From the summary, I expected Among Thieves to focus solely on Ryia, but each chapter is told from a different character’s point-of-view. Ryia, Evelyn, Nash, Ivan, and Tristan all come with their own motives and backstories, so initially, it was difficult to understand who we’re supposed to be rooting for. I kept muddling through chapters that weren’t about Ryia because I was waiting to return to the story and character that initially sparked my interest. Fortunately, I was able to appreciate the storytelling format as I got further into the heist plot, but the alternating chapters meant it took a long time to get my bearings.

Kuhn’s ability to develop characters and personalities that can blend well together and stand apart is the driving force behind this novel. It’s a delight to witness this ensemble cast transition from enemies to reluctant allies to something like friends. There are so many comforting found family moments balanced by thrilling fights and blindsides that make for a gripping story that isn’t too easy to predict. Character foils Ryia and Evelyn are my favorites, but I have to admit I have a soft spot for Tristan, too!

Magic was something to be feared, not bought and chained.

M. J. Kuhn, Among Thieves

Among Thieves is full of twists and turns and doesn’t read like a typical debut. Kuhn’s worldbuilding is impressive, full of intricate details that make for a memorable romp in this high fantasy world. I love a good anti-hero story, but the one thing that’s a bit of a speed bump with this one is it’s challenging to keep up with a plot that’s constantly stretching in at least five different directions. Still, the suspense ramps up as the novel progresses, and that ending is going to leave you begging for the sequel!

Thank you to NetGalley and Gallery Books/Saga 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

Forestborn by Elayne Audrey Becker

Forestborn by Elayne Audrey Becker, the first book in a duology, is a young adult fantasy that features the enemies-to-lovers trope, mythical creatures, and an impossible quest. When a magical sickness targets all the humans in the realm, Rora, a shapeshifter and spy for the kingdom, is tasked with finding a cure. Flanked only by her older brother, the only person in the world she trusts, and a surly prince who doesn’t trust her at all, Rora must traverse a mysterious forest and come to terms with a past that haunts her in order to understand why magic has turned on them and how to restore balance before it’s too late.

Book cover for Forestborn by Elayne Audrey Becker.

Violence gets its wings by choice, not by nature, and I am no more monster than they.

Elayne Audrey Becker, Forestborn

As a shifter who lives among people who fear magic, Rora makes for a fascinating main character because she is neither human enough for the people in her kingdom nor creature enough for the magical beings with whom she identifies. It’s an extended metaphor for the hybrid existence many readers also experience, which makes Rora especially relatable and refreshing. Even better is how Becker allows her to agonize over her fears and anxieties but never actually forces her to change who she is in order to be accepted. Instead, Weslyn, the human prince who starts out detesting Rora’s very existence, is the one who must evolve his mindset. I adore both characters and their journey in this book. They’re frustrating and funny and both gentle and strong, and they’re everything you want to root for in an epic fantasy romance.

In addition to character development, Becker excels at world building. There is so much that readers need to learn—rules for a magic system even the characters find difficult to grasp at times as it’s part of the core mystery, shapeshifter logic, politics and alliances, relationships and backstories—but it never feels as though Becker is info-dumping. The pacing is perfect, and I never found myself thinking about issues with show vs. tell. Also, Becker’s beautiful prose is absolutely captivating and is the first thing that drew me into this novel. Her words paint a picture of a forest both easy to imagine and impossible to find in real life. This balance is absolutely vital to setting the tone in a novel that relies on the stark contrast between nature and civilization in order to illustrate the transformative magic of green spaces and how in our world, too, we are all “forestborn” to some extent.

Forestborn also features great representation, from both platonic and romantic relationships (m/f and m/m), old and young partners, sibling bonds, and parental love. I love it when authors understand fantasy means you can give the characters we love an inclusive world that doesn’t discriminate based on sex, sexuality, or gender. I’m especially drawn to Helos, Rora’s older brother, and his love story with Prince Finley, Weslyn’s younger brother. We don’t see enough of Helos or Finley in this book, but their love for each other underscores the main quest and, therefore, is a central part of the plot. We start to see more of Helos’ personality at the end of this book, and I have a feeling we’ll see more of him and Finley in the next installment.

Fear is just a story waiting to be told. Learn the story and remember every part of it so you can tell me.

Elayne Audrey Becker, Forestborn

Growing up, The Merlin Saga by T.A. Baron and The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander were among the books I checked out over and over again at the library. I loved the epic quests and world building, the grueling treks across unknown terrain, the mysterious magic and creatures, the packs of equipment and food (and tunics!), and the camaraderie around the fire each night. I’m always looking for stories that can measure up to the adventures that made me love books in the first place, and Forestborn absolutely scratches that itch. I couldn’t stop thinking about these characters for days after I finished the book, and I can’t wait until the next one is released. If you love old school epic fantasy adventures like I do, Forestborn is a must-read!

Thank you to NetGalley and Macmillan/Tor Teen 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.

Book Review

This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron

This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron is a young adult urban fantasy featuring Briseis, a teenager with the peculiar ability to grow flowers simply by touching seeds or plants. When her aunt dies and leaves Bri a mysterious estate in rural New York, she and her moms move there for the summer, away from the bustling concrete jungle that is Brooklyn. Surrounded by verdant forests and bucolic scenery full of plants and flowers for the first time in her life, Bri hopes to use this opportunity to learn more about herself and gain better control of her gift.

Book cover for This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron.

Whenever you hear a story about villainous women, you should ask who’s telling the story.

Kalynn Bayron, This Poison Heart

The premise of this novel—a poison garden, ancient magic, and a gothic home packed with secrets—is absolutely delicious, but I felt like I was constantly waiting for the plot to take off. Bri discovers an apothecary fully stocked with mysterious plants and a poison garden (inspired by the actual Poison Garden at England’s Alnwick Garden) hidden within her new home, and beyond Bri realizing her specialty is in handling poisonous plants, the plot seems to stall for a while here. I kept wondering what she would do with her powers, other than creating elixirs and growing ingredients for eccentric townsfolk who abruptly barge into her home requesting remedies only she can provide. The novel is heavy on exposition, and the awkward pacing made the first half a struggle to get through.

The charming if odd host of friends, family, and new acquaintances Bri makes is one of the best parts of this novel. In Brooklyn, Bri’s friends aren’t very understanding or kind towards her, and Bayron effectively illustrates how lonely it can feel to have bad friends. It’s so satisfying to experience Bri cultivate some real friendships as her story unfolds. Bloom where you’re planted? More like bloom where you’re transplanted.

Bayron subverts familiar, maybe even predictable metaphors and symbols associated with gardening and nature. This is especially noticeable in Bri’s close relationship with her parents; she’s adopted, and Bayron is especially thoughtful outlining Bri’s concerns about possibly hurting her mothers’ feelings in wanting to explore her biological family’s lineage to learn more about herself. I love that Bri’s bond with her mothers is so strong that even though she worries about hurting their feelings, she never actually tries to hide her curiosity about her ancestry or her desire to learn more about her heritage. The openness in their relationship is refreshing, and it’s so comforting that that angst is never true cause for any grief in her life.

History belongs to all of us.

Kalynn Bayron, This poison Heart

Bayron’s use of Greek mythology as a foundation for the magic surrounding Bri’s powers and bloodline is one of the most unique elements of this story, but it takes too long before its fully revealed to readers. Bri and her parents don’t even arrive at their summer residence until a quarter of the way through the book, and the process for Bri to stumble onto clues about her magic and heritage is too drawn out and convenient. I never quite understood why so many clues were hidden throughout the house if Bri’s biological family didn’t intend for her to discover those secrets. Perhaps they never anticipated she would be in the house, but then why were the clues there at all? There are so many questions and so few answers, though I should point out this novel’s the first in a series, so maybe this ambiguity is by design.

This Poison Heart puts a fresh new spin on the nature vs. nurture dialogue (quite literally where the plants are concerned!), and its strength is in the relationships Bri establishes, nurtures, and grows. While the mythology aspect is interesting, the info dumping was difficult to process, and the story at the end of this book left us with far more questions than answers. I can only hope the seedling that is this book will sprout into a series that is a bit more fully realized because I otherwise like the individual elements of this world.

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