Book Review

Voyage of the Damned by Frances White

Frances White’s Voyage of the Damned is a locked-room murder mystery set aboard a ship in a fantasy empire teetering on the edge of chaos. Ganymedes “Dee” Piscero, the most unremarkable hero of Concordia’s twelve magical heirs, is thrust into a deadly game when a fellow heir is brutally murdered. With no magical “Blessing” of his own, Dee must rely on his wits and sheer luck to survive as suspicion and bloodshed multiply aboard the emperor’s ship. As tensions mount, the question isn’t just who the killer is—it’s whether anyone will survive the voyage long enough for it to matter.

Book cover for Voyage of the Damned by Frances White.

As if the restrictive shell of a body is more important than the infinite possibilities of a mind.

Frances White, Voyage of the Damned

The premise hooked me immediately: A fantasy murder mystery? Twelve heirs, each with a unique secret power, trapped on a ship with a killer among them? Sign me up! The romance—abrupt as it was—grew on me, too. There’s something tender about Dee’s connection with Wyatt that offsets the grimness of the plot. And it was sweet to see a self-loathing protagonist stumble into vulnerability through a soft love story amidst all the chaos unfolding around them.

But with that said, the execution left a lot to be desired. The worldbuilding is the book’s glaring weak spot. Concordia’s provinces are so reductive they feel like caricatures. Each province is defined by a single animal and a somewhat related industry (and a matching hair color for some reason?). From what I gathered, the magic is hereditary within one single family per province, and it passes down from a parent to one of their children, but other than that, the magic lacks any discernible system or depth. I also found myself asking way too many questions about the logistics of this world. For instance, why are there finger guns in a high fantasy setting where actual guns don’t exist? And in this world where there is no electricity, why are there hot dogs, cotton candy, and poutine, and references to how undeniably cool it is to walk away from an explosion without looking back, and comments on something being so good it’s ”like crack”? None of it makes sense and fundamentally strips the setting of its believability.

They keep their memories and stories safe within music, where empires cannot touch them.

Frances White, Voyage of the Damned

The characters are both a highlight and a source of frustration. Dee’s self-deprecating humor and insecurities make him relatable early on, but as the bodies start piling up, his self-absorption and misplaced priorities are distracting and confusing. Why is he busy agonizing over choosing between a dead ex-lover and his very new romantic interest when they’re all actively being pursued by a murderer? I wish White had spent more time on Dee’s journey of self-discovery and his battle with internalized shame, particularly given the book’s LGBTQ+ representation. I appreciated the barest hints of themes like unity, oppression, and the effects of colonialism, but I needed to see way more of it. I also loved Grasshopper and the dynamic between Dee and Grasshopper. Hands down the best part of the book. Unfortunately, the rest of the cast felt more like stereotypes than people, each defined by a single trait.

Representation in fantasy is something I always root for, so seeing characters like Dee, a bisexual, plus-size person grappling with mental health struggles, and Wyatt, who lives with chronic pain and illness, felt refreshing and necessary. Their identities and challenges added depth and realism to the story, as well as glimmers of inclusivity often lacking in this genre. However, as part of the late-stage plot twist, we discover that this version of Wyatt isn’t even real. It’s such a betrayal to Dee (and, honestly, I’m not sure how he could just get over it!) and to the readers who got invested in the romance developing between Dee and Wyatt. It soured the entire story for me because it felt a little like the work this relationship did to help normalize characters like Dee and Wyatt finding love in the stories we consume was just a trick. Fantasy deserves better, and so do the readers who see themselves in these characters.

The final wall around my heart crumbles and his love fills the untouched space behind.

Frances White, Voyage of the Damned

In addition to my major issues with the romance, representation, worldbuilding, and characters, the locked-room mystery also falls short. Instead of piecing together clues, Dee passively gathers information handed to him by other characters. It feels lazy and robs the story of the tension and intrigue that make a good mystery compelling. The story felt really aimless in that regard, and what’s even more frustrating is I don’t think there was any way for readers to solve the murder mystery on their own. Where’s the fun in that?

Voyage of the Damned reads like young adult fiction, so marketing it as adult fantasy sets up expectations it can’t meet. I never got attached enough to the characters, the mission, or the world, so it essentially failed to deliver the compulsive, edge-of-your-seat tension I expect from a murder mystery. The writing is accessible with memorable flashes of wit and charm, but ultimately, any redeeming qualities are drowned out by inconsistent characterization, clunky worldbuilding, and a mystery that doesn’t trust its audience to engage. Fans of lighter fantasy or creative LGBTQ+ representation may enjoy its quirky charm, but for those seeking a tightly woven mystery or a richly immersive fantasy world, this voyage may be one to skip.

Thank you to NetGalley and HarperCollins Publishers / Mira Books for sharing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review

The Pairing by Casey McQuiston

In The Pairing, Casey McQuiston serves up a story of lust, longing, and languid food tours through Europe, all wrapped in the undeniable queerness that has become their signature. Theo, an aspiring sommelier, and Kit, a pastry chef, find themselves accidentally reunited on the food and wine tour that marked the end of their relationship four years prior. What starts as a hookup competition to prove they’re over each other soon unravels into a complicated mess of unresolved feelings and sexual tension. With scenic backdrops and sumptuous descriptions of food and wine, McQuiston delivers an enticing setup—but does the romance sizzle or fizzle?

Book cover for The Pairing by Casey McQuiston.

I’ve always agreed with the French that a meal should begin with sweetness, but I’m beginning to wonder if the Italians had it right—if, sometimes, discovery wants bitterness first.

Casey McQuiston, The Pairing

McQuiston deserves praise for the unapologetically queer heart of The Pairing. Particularly, the scene where Theo comes out to Kit as nonbinary is handled with thoughtfulness and care, and their pronoun switch midway through the story feels authentic and affirming. Theo’s vulnerability in sharing their identity with Kit creates some of the novel’s most tender moments. Kit shows all the unconditional support and encouragement anyone could hope for, and it completely melted my heart! It’s rare to find queer representation so layered, deliberate, and nuanced, and McQuiston nails it here.

Unfortunately, the novel stumbles in crafting compelling characters beyond their queerness. Theo’s privilege as a “nepo baby” who opts to stay poor and struggling despite several people offering to help them throughout the entire novel feels contrived and frustrating. Their refusal to leverage their family’s wealth for the sake of so-called authenticity or some misplaced sense of validation or merit borders on tone deaf and feels hollow, especially when juxtaposed with their ability to casually flit through European cities. This, combined with their insufferable self-pity, makes it difficult to root for them.

Sometimes I think the only way to keep something forever is to lose it and let it haunt you.

Casey McQuiston, The Pairing

Just when all of Theo’s internal struggles and bad decisions have them primed for some significant growth, the story abruptly shifts to Kit’s perspective halfway through the novel, undercutting any meaningful resolution. Kit, while less grating, brings little complexity to the table, beyond his complete and total adoration (infatuation?) for Theo. Together, their chemistry leans heavily on physical attraction, and the emotional weight never lands. Theo and Kit keep circling around the same issues, avoiding the hard conversations that would make their reunion satisfying. By the end, I was left craving more substance—something to make their love story feel earned.

With its vibrant cities and decadent meals, the European backdrop offers a feast for the senses; however, the execution—while meticulously researched—feels superficial. The bacchanalian parade of food, booze, and hookups quickly grows repetitive. I think this is partially because Theo and Kit don’t really develop, so it feels like nothing advances the plot. The tour becomes just as redundant as every scene between the two leads. The characters’ romanticized, tourist-like experience of Western Europe also leaves little room for authentic exploration of various cultures and cuisines. Furthermore, their near-magical ability to charm their way into every bed and social circle simply isn’t realistic. While escapism is often part of romance’s appeal, the sheer perfection of every encounter makes this story feel flat and predictable.

If I can give my whole heart to love without fearing the cost, I will regret nothing.

Casey McQuiston, The Pairing

The Pairing struggles to balance its frothy, sexually charged premise with the deeper emotional work necessary for a satisfying second-chance romance. Some moments in Theo and Kit’s inner monologues are achingly beautiful—one, in particular, stands out when Kit sees Theo in Botticelli’s The Birth of Venus, a depiction of the divine feminine, while imagining Theo admiring Michelangelo’s David, a tribute to masculine beauty. Kit wonders, with quiet longing, if Theo also finds pieces of them both reflected in the David. How romantic to discover your lover—and yourself—in the world’s most iconic works of art! Yet moments like this remain internal; the characters never bring such revelations into their shared conversations or let them deepen their connection beyond physical desire.

McQuiston’s hallmark wit and charm, evident in earlier works like Red, White & Royal Blue and One Last Stop, are present but not as pronounced here. Some lighthearted moments occasionally sparkle, but a frustrating lack of narrative depth overshadows them. For readers new to queer romances or those looking for lighthearted escapism, The Pairing might hit the right notes. But for anyone seeking the heartfelt intimacy and layered storytelling that define McQuiston’s best work, this book might feel more like a missed opportunity than a perfect pairing.

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

Book Review

Thick as Thieves by M. J. Kuhn

The high fantasy action in Thick as Thieves by M. J. Kuhn picks up right where Among Thieves left off, plunging readers back into the gritty world of heists, magic, and high-stakes deception. Ryia Cautella and her crew find themselves facing the dire consequences of their successful yet perilous heist from the first book, with a terrifyingly powerful tool now in the hands of the ruthless Callum Clem. As the group is scattered across Thamorr, alliances shift, betrayals loom, and the fate of the kingdoms hangs in the balance. It’s a thrilling sequel, where the characters we’ve grown to love are tested like never before.

Book cover for Thick as Thieves by M. J. Kuhn.

Oh, how much more peaceful the world would be if shite men would stop plotting shite things.

M. J. Kuhn, Thick as Thieves

Characterization is a standout aspect of Thick as Thieves. Kuhn deepens our understanding of each character, making them feel more real and multifaceted. The familiarity we have with them from the first book allows for a deeper emotional investment in their individual journeys and collective struggles. The dynamics within the crew, characterized by conflicting priorities and shifting allegiances, create a tension that propels the narrative forward and keeps readers on the edge of their seats.

While the plot is engaging and full of twists, there are some shortcomings in its execution. The narrative, while gripping, occasionally feels overstuffed with subplots and character arcs, leading to moments where the pacing lags. Additionally, certain plot developments may feel predictable to readers familiar with the genre, detracting from the element of surprise that is crucial to a story of this nature.

Despite these shortcomings, Thick as Thieves shines in its strengths. The world-building remains rich and immersive, with Kuhn expanding the scope of Thamorr to include new locations and cultures. The heightened stakes and escalating conflicts keep the tension high throughout, ensuring that readers remain invested in the outcome until the very end. Moreover, the introduction of new characters injects fresh energy into the narrative, adding depth and complexity to an already vibrant ensemble cast.

For all these years, she had known friendship to be out of reach—she had never even dared to think about anything more. Love was nothing but a set of dormant coals sputtering to death in the pit of her belly.

M. J. Kuhn, Thick as Thieves

Overall, Thick as Thieves is a satisfying conclusion of the duology, delivering on the promises of its predecessor while setting the stage for possible future adventures. Fans of Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows series will find much to love here, from the intricate world-building to the morally ambiguous characters and pulse-pounding heists. While it may have its flaws, the sheer entertainment value and emotional resonance of Thick as Thieves make it a worthy addition to any fantasy lover’s bookshelf.

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

Gutter Mage by J.S. Kelley

Gutter Mage by J.S. Kelley is a captivating urban fantasy set in a world run completely on magic…but at what cost? It’s a question worth considering, but not one for outlaw mage Rosalind “Roz” Featherstone, whose only concern is the next job that can line her pockets with coin, fill her cup with drink, or lure someone willing and eager to her bed. So when Lord Edmund’s infant son is abducted, and Roz is tasked with looking into the matter in exchange for the biggest payout of her life, she jumps at the opportunity. But as she works to solve the case, Roz uncovers a dark plot that could change her society—and magic—forever.

Book cover for Gutter Mage by J. S. Kelley.

At the risk of sounding conceited, I’d never met anyone better at solving magic-related crimes than me. It was the second biggest reason so many mages in Drusiel hated me. The biggest reason, of course, was because I’m an asshole.

J.S. Kelley, Gutter Mage

Roz is a dynamic main character with a few different levels to her, which makes her both relatable and exciting. She karate chops conventional gender norms in the face, actually karate chops baddies in the face, and has absolutely no filter—resulting in some of the funniest and crudest lines I’ve ever read. She proves several times over that you’d want her around when things get rough, but in spite of that, she’s a bit of a loner and doesn’t form many personal relationships outside the one with her partner and friend, Lysander. Roz has been outcast from her magical community as a result of a traumatic incident from her past, where a former mentor assaulted her, and then tried to use her to access a new form of magic. She struggles throughout the novel to process the lingering effects of that event since her mentor ended up dying, and Roz was the one who acquired the new magic. She essentially relives her trauma every time she uses it, and it becomes an interesting study of owning her trauma versus quite literally being controlled by it.

This is a character-driven book, and the plot moves forward with the introduction and interaction of new characters—a little like a video game. Secondary characters reveal information, help Roz and Lysander with details, or pose as obstacles they must overcome. Their NPC-like nature made Gutter Mage feel oddly interactive, like the reader is along for the ride as Roz and Lysander work on their case.

What I didn’t love so much was the main villain. His world-ending, apocalypse-producing actions were based merely on a hunch! It was a plot 15 years in the making, and in the end, it only takes one person to foil the entire convoluted thing. His motives are never really clear, and his actions simply don’t make sense. For all his monologuing, I thought the big bad villain arc would have more meat on its bones, and I thought it’d be a little bit harder to take him down!

So what if it was originally meant as an insult? Take it from them and make it your own. Show all those snobby mage assholes what us girls from the gutter can do.

J.S. Kelley, Gutter Mage

By the end of the story, many questions are still left unanswered: An especially prominent character simply vanishes without any explanation or concern, we never get a firm answer on Roz and the identity crisis she suffers about halfway through the book following a rather startling revelation, and we have no indication if there will be any lasting consequences resulting from the villain’s actions. In spite of the main arc involving Lord Edmund and his missing baby being resolved in this book, I felt the novel was missing a satisfying resolution and left entirely too many loose ends.

Overall, Gutter Mage is a quick and easy read, and I firmly believe that’s largely because Roz is so engaging. Kelley provides an intriguing introduction to a fascinating new world and characters, and I could picture future books really expanding Roz’s story—particularly the lore involving magical spirits. While there’s no news of a sequel on the horizon, don’t let that stop you from diving into this fantasy romp. It’s a great choice for those seeking something adventurous and fun with a dash of the unconventional.

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

Book Review

The Witch and the Vampire by Francesca Flores

The Witch and the Vampire by Francesca Flores is a young adult, queer Rapunzel retelling set in a fantasy world where witches and vampires coexist. The novel follows Ava and Kaye, who used to be best friends until the fateful night when Kaye’s mother was murdered and Ava was turned into a vampire against her will. Struggling to overcome their own personal traumas, their relationship is tested when they must put aside their differences to confront a looming threat against their community. With its blend of romance, adventure, and suspense, this novel delves into a supernatural realm of magic made thorny by the prickly complexities of family loyalties.

Book cover for The Witch and the Vampire by Francesca Flores.

I can’t accept it as coincidence that Ava disappeared that same day, and I saw her with blood on her chin a few days later.

Francesca Flores, The Witch and the Vampire

While the premise is compelling, the pacing and worldbuilding is where this novel falls short. The story feels rushed and formulaic at times, with pivotal events unfolding too quickly, and plot twists being entirely too predictable. The combining of vampire and witch lore was initially intriguing, but I was constantly confused as to why only Ava was a vampire who retained her witch powers. Her mother keeps it a secret to use for her own benefit, but it’s never quite clear if Ava’s an anomaly, or if it’s common knowledge that she would have retained her powers due to how she was turned into a vampire.

I often found myself craving more details, especially when it came to why vampires and witches hate each other. I was looking for nuanced conversations or metaphors about the racial and species prejudices in this world, but all I got was a “fantasy” where those prejudices just get to exist without question. For instance, Kaye, who was told her mother was murdered by a vampire but has no other evidence to prove it, sees her best friend Ava in a tower with blood on her face a few days later and somehow decides Ava did it. She…allegedly murdered her best friend’s mother and just didn’t wash her face for days. And that’s all it takes to rewire Kaye’s entire personality. Uh…what? Make it make sense!

And speaking of Ava’s mother — the woman murders her own daughter and turns her into a vampire against her will, keeps her imprisoned, siphons off her power, and emotionally manipulates her. All that sounds incredibly traumatizing, especially since Ava makes the brave decision to run away and rescue herself from this life; however, Flores’ treatment of this storyline is flippant. It’s simply a passing detail, and is yet another aspect of the novel that I really would have liked to see fleshed out. What was her mother’s motive? Were there no warning signs for the first sixteen years of Ava’s life?

Had she stared at the same moon those long nights and wished to be with me too?

Francesca Flores, The Witch and the Vampire

On a positive note, I enjoyed Flores’ accessible writing, and particularly the beautiful prose as Ava and Kaye pine for one another. Whether it be for their lost friendship or their budding romance, it’s easy for readers to relate to the yearning and inner turmoil each girl experiences. Flores excels at illustrating this sapphic romance, and I especially enjoyed the parts in the first half of the book when the girls travel through the forest and skirt around each other after two years apart. However, I constantly had trouble telling Ava and Kaye apart! Maybe it’s just me, but I felt their personalities and voices often blended together, and the girls lacked the depth needed to truly resonate as fully developed characters.

The Witch and the Vampire is a one-dimensional, predictable sapphic romance, and the worldbuilding and pacing leaves much to be desired. I really wanted to love this book, but it was a letdown in almost every way. So much potential was left on the table, and the Rapunzel foundation of this retelling is almost an afterthought! (Honestly, it seems more like a Tangled retelling, though just barely.) A standalone novel simply doesn’t have the room Flores required to successfully weave the rich tapestry of the world she created. The potential for something truly immersive and captivating is there, but the execution simply is not.

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