Tag: Romantasy

Book Review

Shadow and Son by Gretchen Powell Fox

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Shadow and Son by Gretchen Powell Fox is the epic conclusion to the Shattered Crown trilogy, bringing Elyria Lightbreaker, Cedric Thorne, and their unlikely band of allies into one final confrontation that will determine the future of Arcanis. Picking up immediately after the devastating cliffhanger of Splintered Kingdom, Elyria is still imprisoned by Malakar, while Cedric is determined to bring her home. With ancient magic causing all kinds of trouble, political tensions escalating, and old loyalties being tested, the characters must draw on everything they’ve learned throughout the trilogy to confront an enemy whose ambitions threaten everything they’ve fought to protect.

Book cover for Shadow and Son by Gretchen Powell Fox.

In darkness and in daylight, in peace and in ruin. What you carry, I carry. What you become, we become.

Gretchen Powell Fox, Shadow and Son

I thought Shadow and Son started exactly where it needed to. The violation of Elyria’s body at the end of Splintered Kingdom was one of the most shocking moments of the entire series, particularly because her wings are such a fundamental expression of her fae identity. Seeing her isolated, weakened, and at Malakar’s mercy is especially unsettling when we’ve come to know her as such a fiercely independent character. The first of the novel’s four parts deals with the immediate fallout of that cliffhanger, and I appreciated that Fox gives those events the attention they deserve before moving into the larger conflict. Cedric’s desperation to find Elyria is palpable, and their eventual reunion is enormously satisfying. From the second part onward, the story shifts into the epic conclusion we’ve been anticipating, bringing together the characters, alliances, and magical discoveries established throughout the trilogy.

I’ve said in my reviews of both previous books — Smoke and Scar and Splintered Kingdom — that Cedric has one of my favorite character arcs, and Shadow and Son brings that journey to a wonderfully satisfying conclusion. When we first meet him, he’s a dutiful knight whose entire worldview has been shaped by Lord Church, the very person responsible for perpetuating so much of the hatred and violence that Cedric eventually learns to reject. Watching him dismantle those inherited beliefs, confront the lies on which his identity was built, and gradually discover who he wants to be has been one of the greatest gifts of this series. His transformation isn’t simply about overcoming prejudice; it’s about recognizing that the systems and people he once trusted were fundamentally wrong and developing the courage to imagine something better. And look how far he’s come! From an obedient soldier to a powerful magic wielder, a loving partner, and eventually the ruler of a kingdom! Our boy really is the people’s princess!

Before you, without you, I was drowning. You brought me back to life, and were I faced with eons in this world alone or a single day together, I would choose you every time.

Gretchen Powell Fox, Shadow and Son

Elyria’s journey is equally rewarding, particularly because her circumstances force her to confront vulnerability in a way she rarely has before. She’s spent much of the series relying on herself, but the relationships she’s forged become essential to her ability to survive, recover, and reclaim her strength. I love that her development doesn’t require her to abandon the irreverent, reckless personality that makes her so entertaining. Instead, she’s learned that independence and accepting help aren’t mutually exclusive. That emphasis on connection also makes the found family aspect especially meaningful in this final installment of the series. Fox has assembled an impressively large cast of memorable characters, and I was delighted to see Tristan, Nox, Thraigg, Jocelyn, and the others working together. I would happily read an entire spinoff about Nox, whose story seems especially ripe for further exploration. But more importantly, I would like to renew my request for a Tristan novella! I adore that man and spent an unreasonable amount of time worrying about his survival. Thankfully, he emerges from the finale relatively intact. Not unscathed, exactly. Let’s call it moderately scathed. But I’ll take it!

One of Fox’s greatest strengths throughout the trilogy has been her vivid imagery and richly developed worldbuilding. Arcanis is remarkably easy to visualize, from its landscapes and architecture to the distinctive appearances of its inhabitants. But what impresses me even more is how thoughtfully the world supports the series’ larger examination of power, identity, and prejudice. The divisions between humans and fae are sustained by generations of inherited beliefs, political manipulation, and systems designed to preserve existing hierarchies. Malakar’s treatment of Elyria makes the consequences of that desire for domination horrifyingly literal, reducing her body and magic to resources he believes he’s entitled to exploit. And Cedric’s transformation offers a compelling counterpoint, demonstrating that breaking cycles of oppression requires more than defeating those in power. It also means challenging the beliefs and institutions that enabled their cruelty in the first place. I appreciate that these ideas are woven into the characters’ personal journeys rather than simply presented as abstract political conflicts.

I don’t think anyone in the history of this wretched world has ever loved another person as much as I do you.

Gretchen Powell Fox, Shadow and Son

The final battle is everything I hoped it would be, bringing together the characters and conflicts that Fox has carefully developed across three books. Series finales can easily become underwhelming after so much anticipation, but I found both the confrontation and its resolution satisfying. The ending gives the characters room to appreciate how far they’ve come while providing a sense of closure that feels earned.

On a personal note, I feel especially fortunate to have followed this trilogy from its beginning. I discovered Gretchen Powell Fox through a post on Threads looking for ARC readers for Smoke and Scar, which she pitched as a subversion of some of my favorite romantasy tropes. I applied, received an advance copy, and absolutely loved it. It was such a refreshing take on familiar fantasy conventions that I couldn’t wait to return to Arcanis. So I was thrilled to receive an ARC of Splintered Kingdom and incredibly touched when Gretchen included me in the acknowledgments section. Getting to read the ARC for this final installment feels like a particularly special ending to this journey. There’s something remarkable about watching a story develop from a clever reimagining of familiar tropes into such an expansive examination of identity, belonging, power, and the possibility of change. Ending a beloved series is no easy feat, especially when readers have become so invested in the characters and their futures. But Shadow and Son delivers a conclusion that feels both emotionally rewarding and true to the larger story Fox set out to tell. I’m sad to say goodbye to this world, but so happy that Gretchen Powell Fox created it and shared it with us all.

Thank you to the author, Gretchen Powell Fox, as well as NetGalley and Scarlett Press, for sharing an advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Book Review

Damned If I Do by Alexandria Bellefleur

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Damned If I Do by Alexandria Bellefleur is a paranormal romance where a centuries-old demon discovers she is still technically married to the husband she left behind in sixteenth-century Scotland, which is a problem considering she’s now engaged to a prince from Hell. To fix it, Effie has to track down Finn, who has been reincarnated over and over again with no memory of their marriage, and convince him to renounce their vows. Except Finn takes one look at this strange woman who has walked into his bar and feels immediately, inexplicably drawn to her. Effie, meanwhile, has the slightly bigger problem of Finn looking exactly like the man she has spent centuries trying not to mourn.

Book cover for Damned If I Do by Alexandria Bellefleur.

Just like heartbreak was death by a thousand cuts, love was a million little moments that together made the feeling what it was.

Alexandria Bellefleur, Damned If I Do

This was such a fun, sexy read, but I think what I liked most was the melancholy underneath all of it. I have a soft spot for stories about the afterlife (especially ones that get into what it might actually mean to exist beyond the life you were supposed to have). Effie made a deal with the devil, and now she’s had centuries to live with that choice. She’s prickly, resigned, and fully avoiding her feelings about everything she lost to get where she is. As a result, she has this sad goth girl energy to her that’s actually perfect for a spooky season read.

Finn exudes his own version of that loneliness. He’s spent lifetime after lifetime searching for connection without ever understanding why nothing quite fits. His soul is tied to someone who isn’t even on the mortal plane, so of course he can travel and meet all kinds of people, yet still feel like he’s looking for something he can’t name. The book also contains an interlude chapter showing us more about his background, and I have to say I love the placement because it comes right when you think you know how all the pieces on this chessboard are arranged. We also find out just how desperately he’s sought connection all his life. We love a lover boy, but more importantly, we love a man who yearns, and Finn has apparently been yearning across multiple lifetimes.

Everyone talks about sparks, but he’s holding out for a love that sets his soul on fire.

Alexandria Bellefleur, Damned If I Do

That also made the way Effie and Finn are reluctantly pulled toward each other incredibly satisfying. On top of that, their chemistry and banter are great, the spicy scenes will have you melting because they’re so deliciously sexy, and it was just ridiculously easy to root for them. Also worth noting is that the book explicitly states Finn is bisexual! It comes up naturally through his history, but the book names it clearly rather than leaving his attraction to men somewhere in subtext, so I really appreciated the intentional bi visibility.

I also loved the small-town setting around Effie and Finn. There’s something weirdly charming about putting all the eternal bureaucracy, demons, soul bargains, and general badness of Hell next to a lovable little Georgia town (the Devil went down to Georgia, yall!). Somehow that combination gives the story an almost cozy quality despite, y’know, Hell. I also enjoyed that this story picks up from events at the end of The Devil She Knows by Alexandria Bellefleur. You don’t need that story for this one to work, but it is a fun little Easter egg for anyone already familiar with this universe.

She’d hardly known she was starving until she wasn’t.

Alexandria Bellefleur, Damned If I Do

Mostly, I’m just very into what Bellefleur is doing with this world. Damned If I Do has soulmates, demons, small-town charm, some very delectable spice, and several centuries’ worth of unresolved romantic yearning. I don’t know about you, but that’s an extremely effective combination for me. Fingers crossed Bellefleur treats us to more stories from this universe. (I’d love to see one for Belphegor and the mess that he is…just saying!)

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

Book Review

Burn the Kingdom Down by Addie Thorley

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Burn the Kingdom Down by Addie Thorley is a young adult enemies-to-lovers romantasy where a second-born princess infiltrates an enemy kingdom to avenge her sister’s suspicious death, only to discover that the truth behind that death, and the kingdom she was taught to hate, is far more complicated than she imagined. What starts as a revenge-driven premise quickly shifts into something more uncertain, as Indira navigates grief, political tension, and a marriage she never wanted. With enemies-to-lovers tension, memory-based magic, and a mystery at its core, the novel sets itself up as a thrilling story about vengeance, truth, and the real cost of both.

Book cover for Burn the Kingdom Down by Addie Thorley.

A gilded cage is still a cage, little sister.

Addie Thorley, Burn the Kingdom Down

I really wanted to love this one. The premise alone is so compelling: a crown princess is sent away in chains, returns home dead, and her younger sister steps into her place with a plan to infiltrate, investigate, and burn everything down if necessary to get revenge. I mean, a title like Burn the Kingdom Down sets a very specific expectation, and for me, that expectation was feminine rage! I was ready for sharp edges, decisive action, and a heroine actively pursuing vengeance. Instead, much of the story feels far more internal and, at times, very static.

Indira is a character with a lot of potential. I liked the idea of her as the “spare,” someone not raised to rule, yet suddenly forced into a role that requires both political strategy and emotional resilience, all while she’s grieving her sister’s death. There’s something inherently interesting about a character who is underestimated by everyone around her but still determined to succeed. Her magic, too, stood out to me. The ability to nurture and grow plants initially reads as soft or passive, but the story does a nice job of showing how powerful that kind of magic can be. That contrast between perceived weakness and actual strength is one of the more compelling elements of her character.

That said, spending time in Indira’s head was often where the book lost me. Much of the narrative is driven by her internal monologue, and it tends to circle the same doubts and suspicions without evolving in a way that feels engaging. Indira second-guesses herself constantly, and while some of that makes sense given her circumstances, it starts to feel repetitive rather than illuminating. The repeated conversations she has with an imagined version of her sister, Rowenna, especially stand out. What could have been an interesting way to explore grief and memory instead drags on for way too long.

Love isn’t finite. A portion isn’t taken from one recipient when it’s shared with another. It simply grows.

Addie Thorley, Burn the Kingdom Down

Where the book really shines is in its worldbuilding and magic system. The idea of memories as a source of power that can be harvested, manipulated or even stored is genuinely fascinating. It opens up questions about how memory shapes identity and how easily it can be distorted, which ties nicely into the broader mystery of what really happened to Rowenna. I also loved the contrast between the two kingdoms: Tashir, rooted in soil and growth, and Vanzador, built on stone and mountains. They feel like complete opposites, but the story hints at how they’re meant to function in balance rather than in opposition, adding an extra layer of thematic depth.

The central mystery is what really kept me reading, even when the pacing lagged. As Indira uncovers more about her sister’s life in Vanzador, the narrative effectively complicates what she thought she knew. Watching her slowly realize that Rowenna may not have been the person she believed was one of the more interesting arcs in the book. There’s a strong thread here about how we idealize the people we love, and what happens when that image starts to fracture.

However, the plot sometimes leans too heavily on telling rather than showing. We’re often told that Indira is investigating, researching, or searching for answers, but we don’t always see those moments play out meaningfully. Instead, they’re summarized or skipped over, which makes parts of the story feel like connective tissue rather than fully realized scenes. It creates a sense of moving from point A to point B without the emotional or narrative weight that should exist in between.

The romance also fits into this pattern. The connection between Indira and Prince Alaric develops alongside the unraveling mystery, and I did appreciate how their bond ties back to themes of family and understanding. But like other elements of the book, it felt somewhat underdeveloped compared to the strength of the concept.

I am choosing to build rather than burn.

Addie Thorley, Burn the Kingdom Down

Overall, this is one of those books where the idea is stronger than the execution. There’s a really intriguing story here about grief, memory, and the narratives we build around both people and nations. The worldbuilding and magic system are genuinely compelling, and Indira as a character is layered and interesting. I just wish the overall character development and pacing had matched the ambition of the premise. For a book that promises to burn a kingdom down, I wanted to feel way more of that fire on the page.

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

Book Review

Empire of Flame and Thorns by Marion Blackwood

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Empire of Flame and Thorns by Marion Blackwood is an enemies-to-lovers romantasy where a fae girl enters a series of deadly trials for a chance at freedom. It’s set in a world where dragon shifters rule, justifying their dominance over fae through stories of a half-remembered past where the fae once held power over the dragon shifters, though neither side truly remembers how or why that world ended. Now, the fae live under tight control, their choices limited, their futures dictated. But every 150 years, the Atonement Trials offer three winners the chance to leave this oppressive system. Selena Hale enters the trials not just for her own survival and freedom, but for the possibility of helping the fae rebellion in a way she never could from within.

Book cover for Empire of Flame and Thorns by Marion Blackwood.

Because fear is a weapon. It gives other people power over you without them even having to do anything.

Marion Blackwood, Empire of Flame and Thorns

This is one of those books that pulls you forward through sheer momentum alone. The trials are chaotic by design, governed only by whatever rules the dragon shifters decide to enforce in the moment. That instability raises the stakes immediately, especially because the fae are not competing for glory or status, but for their lives. The intensity never settles into a predictable rhythm either. Instead, each challenge forces Selena to adapt, and the reader is right there with her, recalibrating what survival even looks like from one trial to the next.

Selena is a compelling protagonist, in part because her growth feels as much internal as it is external. She enters the trials with something to prove, not just to the world around her, but to herself. Her ability to manipulate emotions has made her an outsider among her own people, leaving her caught between wanting connection and knowing she makes others uneasy. That tension carries into how she moves through the trials. She wants to be liked and accepted, but she also has to learn how to prioritize her own survival and sense of self. Watching Selena begin to prioritize herself, trust her instincts, and own her power rather than ignore or diminish it is one of the most satisfying arcs in the book. By the final trials, both Selena and the reader have a clearer understanding of what her abilities can do and why they matter.

You do seem to have an unhealthy obsession with tracking me down in empty corridors. Can I suggest a hobby instead? Perhaps knitting since you’re so fond of pointy sticks.

Marion Blackwood, Empire of Flame and Thorns

Selena and Draven’s dynamic works because it disrupts expectations from the very beginning. Their first encounter sets the tone, with Selena turning what should be a moment of danger into something chaotic and unexpectedly funny. That same energy carries into the trials, where their back-and-forth builds on that initial clash and gradually becomes something else as their connection deepens. The banter is quick and does more than just entertain us, as there’s always an undercurrent of tension shaped by the fact that Draven holds power within the system that controls Selena. He reads as distinctly morally grey, shifting in ways that are hard to fully understand until later, which gives the enemies-to-lovers arc its edge.

The story’s deeper potential lies in its suggestion that power is less about truth and more about who controls the narrative of the past. The idea that the dragon shifters’ rule is justified by a history no one fully remembers raises a larger question about inherited narratives and how they are used to sustain systems of power. Both sides are operating on stories that have been passed down, shaped and reshaped over time, until they function less as truth and more as justification. There are moments where the text gestures toward this, particularly in how the fae themselves question the legitimacy of their oppression, but it stops short of fully engaging with it. There’s a deeper conversation here about cycles of violence, about how long a debt can be carried across generations, and who ultimately pays for it. I hope these early threads are laying the groundwork for something more fully realized in future installments.

I don’t care if you hate me. Truth be told, I kind of hate you too. And that’s why I don’t hold back when I talk to you.

Marion Blackwood, Empire of Flame and Thorns

Overall, this is an action-packed, immersive, and fun romantasy that rewards paying attention, even when you’re not entirely sure what you’re noticing. There’s a steady sense that something isn’t adding up, and the final plot twist brings that unease into sharp focus. It doesn’t tie things up so much as it opens them further, leaving a lot still to explore, both in terms of character and the larger stakes. One thing I know for sure is that I’ll be picking up book 2. I need to see what happens after that ending!

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

Book Review

Stolen Midnights by Katherine Quinn

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Stolen Midnights by Katherine Quinn is a regency-inspired young adult romantasy that unfolds in the gilded city of Andalay, where the Three Fates bestow magical gifts upon the upper classes as a mark of divine favor and social worth. On her eighteenth birthday, Wren Hayes, the so-called “princess” of Ward One, waits to receive the powerful magic her status promises. But it never comes. Unbeknownst to her, a thief has stolen it! And in a society where magic is currency and legitimacy, that turns Wren into a social pariah. What follows is a richly layered, compulsively readable story about power, class warfare, dangerous alliances, and one of the most delightful grumpy x sunshine slow-burn romances I’ve read in a long time.

Book cover for Stolen Midnights by Katherine Quinn set against a pink background.

One day our world would change, and all it took to start a revolution was one person.

Katherine Quinn, Stolen Midnights

Despite being marketed as young adult, I think Stolen Midnights just barely on the edges of it. Tonally, this novel reminds me a lot of Heartless Hunter by Kristen Ciccarelli. It has that same balance of sharp banter, moral ambiguity, simmering tension, and high-stakes worldbuilding. Even when the plot turns twisty and dark, there’s an undercurrent of yearning and restraint that keeps the characters at its center, and that’s why it works so well.

I love a good thief character, so Damien was always going to be an instant favorite, but Wren really surprised me, too. She begins the story sheltered and naive, yet never willfully ignorant. Wren wants to understand the world beyond her privilege, and once that privilege is stripped away, she actively chooses growth, accountability, and compassion. Damien, meanwhile, is morally gray in all the right ways, shaped by a system that exploits the poor to keep the wealthy powerful. His motives are messy, personal, and deeply tied to the book’s class commentary. Watching these two become reluctant allies—especially with Wren unaware that Damien is the thief who stole her gift—creates a dynamic that is both emotionally charged and narratively compelling.

The dual POV structure of the chapters also works beautifully here, giving equal weight to both Wren and Damien’s perspectives without letting one overshadow the other. Seeing Andalay from opposite sides of the class divide adds real texture to the story, especially as the larger conspiracy begins to unravel.

I’m sorry because I allowed myself to be blind when I had the choice to do otherwise. I’m sorry for being a part of a society that uses people when they’re desperate. That forces them to remain desperate. Afraid. Hungry.

Katherine Quinn, Stolen Midnights

The magic system itself deserves special attention because it’s such a clever device. In Andalay, gifts granted by the Three Fates are not random blessings but deliberate reinforcements of wealth and status. Therefore, magic becomes another mechanism of control, hoarded by the upper classes and used to keep power exactly where it already sits. I loved how this magic system feeds directly into the novel’s social commentary, interrogating privilege and exploitation. It shapes Damien’s anger and motivations just as much as it forces Wren to confront the moral cost of her upbringing, adding layers that make the story resonate well beyond the romance.

Speaking of the romance, it was so much fun! The dynamic between Wren and Damien is exactly what I expect when promised enemies-to-lovers. The banter is genuinely delightful, the grumpy x sunshine trope is fully realized (he literally calls her “sunshine”!!), and the slow burn is paced to perfection. Watching Damien deny his feelings while very obviously falling for Wren was endlessly entertaining, and their chemistry is off the charts.

I also really appreciated the emphasis on female empowerment throughout the story. Andalay is unapologetically patriarchal, but Quinn highlights women supporting women, questioning their assigned roles, and actively resisting expectations designed to limit them. The contrast between older men enforcing tradition and a younger generation beginning to push back felt deliberate and thoughtfully executed.

I knew with complete certainty that I’d done the one thing I promised I’d never do—I’d fallen for a mark.

Katherine Quinn, Stolen Midnights

If I had any minor nitpicks, they come down to personal preference rather than flaws. I found myself wishing for a deeper exploration of how certain magical powers work and more on-page moments of characters actively using their magic. There’s also a mention of a jail early on that stuck in my brain. I kept expecting it to reappear or play a larger role later (at one point, I was fully convinced Damien would end up there!), but it never did. That’s very much on me for latching onto it, not the book failing to deliver. But who knows? Maybe it’s there, waiting for book 2 shenanigans!

By the time I reached the final chapters, I was fully hooked. And then that ending completely blindsided me! Jaw on the floor, theories in shambles, and a cliffhanger that was brutal in the best way. I genuinely have no idea how I’m supposed to wait for the sequel! Consider me fully committed, emotionally compromised, and counting the days.

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