Book Review

Thieves’ Gambit by Kayvion Lewis

Thieves’ Gambit by Kayvion Lewis is a young adult thriller that plunges readers into a vibrant, fast-paced world of high-stakes heists and intricate betrayals. It features seventeen-year-old Rosalyn Quest, or Ross, who belongs to an infamous family of legendary thieves. On the very night Ross resolves to escape her family’s criminal legacy, her mother is kidnapped. To rescue her, Ross enters the prestigious Thieves’ Gambit, an international competition of perilous challenges, extravagant heists, and ruthless opponents. Victory promises a single wish to the winner—and Ross’s best chance to save her mom. But as the competition escalates and alliances form and fracture, Ross must decide who to trust, and how much she’s willing to risk to win.

Book cover for Thieves' Gambit by Kayvion Lewis.

I was stealing my own future back.

Kayvion Lewis, Thieves’ Gambit

Right from the start, Ross emerged as my favorite part of this book. She’s tough, resourceful, and relatable. Her evolution from someone who staunchly follows the family rule—“if they’re not a Quest, they can’t be trusted”—to a character who cautiously opens herself up to others, feels genuine and rewarding. I really felt for her as she slowly learned through interactions with her new friends that the family she’s so fiercely loyal to has actually isolated her from the type of life she’s always wanted. The struggle to reconcile who you are with who you want to be is something so relatable.

However, this novel does face some hurdles. With its familiar heist and competition elements, it occasionally fails to establish its own identity distinct from similar stories in the genre. Lewis tees up some thrilling challenges for the Gambit, and it’s fun to watch Ross and the other competitors work through them. But Six of Crows, The Inheritance Games, and even Ocean’s Eleven have been floating around for years. I love a good heist, but the predictability of a less lethal Hunger Games often left me craving something uniquely fresh or surprising with this story.

If you’re not making friends, you’re making enemies.

Kayvion Lewis, Thieves’ Gambit

Another aspect that didn’t entirely hit the mark was the romantic subplot involving Devroe. Though Devroe had brief moments of intriguing vulnerability, his relationship with Ross lacked depth and chemistry. It felt somewhat superficial and rushed, making it difficult to root for them. Perhaps that’s partially due to all the characters actively competing against each other in challenges that rely on them outwitting their opponents. Still, I needed more than a charm offensive from Devroe. That said, I did enjoy the other secondary characters; Kyung-soon and Mylo were two favorites. Lewis’s diversity in character backgrounds and cultures is commendable and by far one of the best things about this book.

Ultimately, Thieves’ Gambit is an enjoyable read ideal for fans of heist adventures and fierce female leads. Though the romance underwhelms and some narrative choices slightly dull its shine, the clever plot, exciting heists, and layered protagonist make it a worthwhile pick.

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

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

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 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

Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé is a terrifying young adult thriller that crosses Pretty Little Liars with Get Out. Chiamaka and Devon, the only two Black students at their private school, begin their senior years as prefects, putting them both in the running for valedictorian. But when Aces, an anonymous bully, starts to release damaging secrets about them both, they must figure out who’s targeting them before their bright futures are completely out of reach. It isn’t long before Chiamaka and Devon discover the conspiracy isn’t as simple as locating one random bully. Their entire high school perpetuates a system of racism built to tear them down.

Book cover for Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé.

I realized quite quickly that people hate being called racist more than they hate racism itself.

Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé, Ace of Spades

I have to be honest and say I groaned a bit at the Pretty Little Liars premise before I started reading Ace of Spades because what’s interesting about that? Beautiful people misbehaving at a fancy school with enough networks and funds to ensure continued success and wealth for all who walk those hallowed halls? Yawn. But I’ve never been more pleased to be proven wrong.

Àbíké-Íyímídé masterfully builds tension and suspense as Aces preys on her characters, slowly tearing them down, making readers just as anxious waiting on the next bombshell.And just when you think you’ve got it figured out, you realize the great mystery is you weren’t thinking big enough. This novel exists at the intersection of race, class, gender, and sexual politics, and it sheds light on the nefarious microaggressions society uses daily to plant seeds of doubt that make us question the existence of any of it. Protagonists Chiamaka and Devon are complex and interesting, and they’re so much more than they appear on the surface as Àbíké-Íyímídé carefully shows us the way each character has built themselves up over the years, and how a prickly disposition, an aloof personality, or something as simple as a hairstyle is actually armor. And it’s a good thing, too, because it turns out they needed it.

They treat my Black skin like a gun or a grenade or a knife that is dangerous and lethal, when really, it’s them. The guys at the top powering everything.

Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé, Ace of Spades

The most striking part of this novel is the doubt the protagonists experience, particularly when they guess quite early in the plot that institutional racism is at the heart of the conspiracy against them. Both Chiamaka and Devon dismiss the possibility immediately, given the reality of racism is so prevalent in their lives that it seems almost too obvious a threat to single out since it touches every part of their lives already. Chiamaka’s family is wealthy, yet she hides the parts of herself that highlight her Nigerian-Italian heritage in order to change herself into what she believes will get her ahead in a society with predetermined ideals for success and worth, while Devon strives to escape the parts of his upbringing and sexual identity that he believes will prevent him from achieving his dreams. Both characters have spent so much of their lives fighting to escape the pitfalls of systemic racism that they blamed themselves—their past actions, sexual preferences, and histories—before ever considering they were victims of a system built specifically to target people who look like them, who dare to be great.

Ace of Spades never shies away from how all-encompassing and rotten the system is at its very core, no matter how much the characters or even the readers may want to reject or deny that horror. That thought distortion is a product of the very system. And still, I found myself constantly taking a step back to wonder if every person and thing involved in the conspiracy was too much, but really, it’s not. The novel features an abundance of bad actors, like the truly insidious Ace of Spades campers and the Niveus students; some, like Belle and the legacy families, are guilty of continuing to reap benefits from established systems even though they recognize it’s wrong; and others, like Terrell, are pulled into these larger plots because other parts of the system (like health care) already hold them hostage. In spite of their varying levels of involvement, every character played a part in propping up the current systems that perpetuate harmful, outdated narratives. That only means everyone must work together to dismantle and rebuild institutions that perpetuate systemic racism so that they no longer disadvantage some people in order to elevate others.

I have to stop myself from apologizing—because what would I even be sorry for? Existing too loud?

Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé, Ace of Spades

When a novel includes an epilogue, I’m typically already done with the story and seldom feel the need for follow-up, but Ace of Spades surprised me here as well. Without spoiling the end, I’ll only say that I like how all the problems Chiamaka and Devon identified throughout the course of the novel did not simply vanish. One victory alone cannot so easily vanquish injustice and inequality kept alive by hardened roots that have been strangling our society for centuries.

Ace of Spades is an explosive debut from Àbíké-Íyímídé that uses the high school landscape as a model for the very institutions that continue to shape the world after graduation. If at times it seems sensational, that’s only because you’ve allowed yourself to forget it’s all real. It’s a quick read, both eye-opening and validating, and an excellent way to encourage discussions among young adult readers about the injustices of systemic racism and the importance of fighting against it.

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