Review of The Daughter of Earth (Pey)

November 9, 2021November 19, 2021

The Daughter of Earth (The Dryad Chronicles #1), by Callie Pey (romantic Fantasy, Steamy fantasy; 2021)

(Note: I received a free copy in exchange for an honest review. This title is for mature readers only.)

This is an engaging, extremely steamy story (with fated mate context) that reads quickly. Yes, a little too quickly at times (and yes there are copy editing issues), but the story and other raw materials are all there, which counts for more to me (and is harder to achieve). If you feel the same and like a good portal fantasy adventure, you’ll enjoy The Daughter of Earth, too. (Note that a late scene involves unwanted contact and may be triggering.)

The storytelling starts at a break-neck pace that was too quick for me. 2 1/2 to 3 chapters in, it slows and lets the characters develop (while remaining fairly fast). Melissa is dropped through a portal just as everything is going wrong, and her reactions are sometimes lost in the swift pacing. I did feel like I wanted to hear her thoughts more, especially as she meets a blur of characters. Some you’ll get to know and love, like Cassie, but others remain in the periphery, like Ferox.

As the pacing eases, Melissa finds more acceptance with her new friends, the Watchtowers, than she found in all her years on Earth. She doesn’t have to justify herself to them or explain her past. They’re like the perfect found family, though they expect her to learn to defend herself. In response to their warmth, Melissa develops a drive to be useful, repaying kindness with service. She also finds love, which is another area where the story really shines.

The MFM romance in The Daughter of Earth is graphic but sex positive, and wonderfully nuanced. I really liked the sweetly awkward early advances of Kelan, who is drawn to MC Melissa and can’t stay away (as a wood elf, he’s pretty fixated on presenting her with his “credentials”), and that her brief interactions with satyr Graak are like a one night stand that leaves both of them confused and hurt. The gods brought the three of them together, and not everybody’s happy about it. I can’t say enough good things about that dynamic.

Throughout the story, Melissa grows in every way possible. We see her go from an orphaned and powerless woman on Earth who’s reduced to an object to a physically strong one who fights monsters and makes her own family. With a world of dryads, nymphs, elves, fae and satyrs, The Daughter of Earth has familiar world-building with a modern twist. The ending was satisfying, too—though I’m already wondering what happens next, thanks in part to one heck of a preview for book two!

All in all, this is a great, unpolished gem of a romantic fantasy yarn.

To learn more about this author, visit her Facebook page or follow her on Instagram (@calliepeyauthor).

Want more fantasy titles with romance?

Review of An Enchantment of Thorns (Rookwood & Vince)

Review of Throne of Glass (Maas)

Review of When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain (Vo)

Review of Phoenix Heart: Ashes

September 28, 2021September 27, 2021

Phoenix Heart: Episode 1: Ashes (Phoenix Heart Season 1 #1), by Sarah K.L. Wilson (Fantasy; July 2021)

I’m so pleased to see more books coming out with disabled and chronically ill protagonists these days. Phoenix Heart: Season 1, Episode 1: Ashes (yes, a mouthful, but these novellas are being released episodically) has a wonderfully realistic heroine in Sersha, a mute teen at the mercy of her inn-running family. Sersha, whose troubles will feel familiar to many chronically ill/disabled readers, worries about her place in the world, how she’s perceived and what will happen when her family can’t support her any longer.

Ashes can easily be consumed in one sitting (though I recommend savoring Wilson’s emotional writing, if you can stand not seeing what comes next). It follows Phoenix Hope, a free short story available to the author’s mailing list subscribers. I highly recommend reading Phoenix Hope, too, possibly before sitting down with Ashes (the moving story of Sersha’s unlucky patients upstairs at the inn, when their ill-fated journey began).

When Sersha finds herself the unwitting friend of grieving phoenix named Kazmarev (described as “A name with an adventure inside it”), for once, someone knows exactly what Sersha wants to say. She identifies with Kazmarev, but has no idea what’s in store for her, or that flame riders even exist.

When Kazmarev perishes with the dawn, Sersha assumes her own brief adventure is over. “It was like owning a pearl necklace for a day. Couldn’t you just enjoy it instead of being angry that you couldn’t keep it?” Sersha asks herself. She then returns to her precarious, uninteresting life helping her relatives at the inn—just as raiders arrive on the nearby shore.

Ashes shows Sersha, an overlooked young woman and a keen observer, finding an unexpected place in the world, and unexpected friends—both of which put her at the heart of the action. Though there is a complete story arc in Season 1, Episode 1, it’s clear her adventures are just beginning.

Phoenix Heart promises to be a relatively expensive series, which makes me want to ration each episode (readers who get in on the pre-orders will get a better price; as of writing, the first episode of season 2 still up for pre-order). Though uniformly short, the length of each episode varies. The bother comes because I’d love to consume them all at once without worry about the cost. Still, I look forward to reading more of Sersha and Kazmarev’s adventures, even if I wish they could each last—even just a tiny bit—longer.

To learn more about this author, visit Sarah K.L. Wilson’s website.

Read on!

Review: Sting Magic (Wilson)

Review: Daughter of Shades (Mercedes)

Review: Sabriel (Nix)

Review of When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain (Vo)

September 21, 2021September 13, 2021

Review: When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain (The Singing Hills Cycle #2), by Nghi Vo (Fantasy; 2020)

Vo (The Chosen and the Beautiful) is another repeat author for me. When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain follows The Empress of Salt and Fortune, though one could easily be read before the other.

When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain is the story of stories. Protagonist Chih, a cleric from the Singing Hills Abbey, is on their way, via a young mammoth and her handler, to collect more stories and make records of events when they’re met by three hungry (and angry) tiger sisters. Agreeing to tell a story of the tigers’ choosing in exchange for their lives, Chih is forced to tell a loaded story—one the tigers warn her not to get wrong too often.

The tiger’s version, however, disagrees on many key details and even in “the best part,” as one tiger sister puts it. As Chih tries to navigate the differences between the human and tiger version of a famous story of Ahn (filled with LGBTQ characters, love and ghosts), this swift and lyrical novella captivated me as much or more than The Empress of Salt and Fortune.

Vo’s lyrical writing and the series’ captivating take on legends from across Asia continue to be like nothing else I’ve ever read. The plot, hinging on two versions of one story, made me think about the spaces between the two and the life-changing effects of storytelling. The wistful ending also made me long for a book three all the more, so I could see what stories Chih learns next.

To learn more about this author, visit Nghi Vo’s website.

Read on!

Review: The Empress of Salt and Fortune (Vo)

Review: Ariadne (Saint)

Review: Spindle (Gingell)

Review: Velvet Was the Night (Moreno-Garcia)

September 14, 2021September 13, 2021

Velvet Was the Night, by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (Noir, Pulp Fiction; 2021)

I have something shocking to tell you. I read a book that does not contain magic!

Gasp.

That gasp is fitting for another reason: Velvet Was the Night lives in an interesting space between noir and historical fiction. Written by the author of Gods of Jade and Shadow (a heart-breaking favorite of mine) and Mexican Gothic (one of the best plot-twists I’ve read in a long time), this book’s atmosphere is relentlessly gloomy, full of the violent political underworld of one protagonist and dreams of Aztec sacrifice and dramatic romance in the jungle from the other.

Neither young protagonist of Velvet Was the Night have much of a future. There is El Elvis, an early-twenties (ish?) local tough taken in by a charismatic leader of the Hawks, a covert suppression group in late-1960s-early 1970s Mexico, and Maite, a deeply lonely secretary with money problems and an obsession with romantic comic books.

Maite also loves pilfering items from her unsuspecting neighbors, specifically because she’ll have a piece of their (better, in her imagination) lives. For Maite, part of the thrill of having a stolen object—everything from a single earring to a statue of a saint—is knowing her neighbor will never miss it.

Attention-starved and cash-strapped, she is easily pulled into her beautiful neighbor Leonora’s life when asked to watch her cat last minute. When Leonora doesn’t return and things get fishy, Maite gets sucked deeper into the mystery of her neighbor and a missing camera. Elvis, meanwhile, searches for both from the other side. Elvis and Maite are on a collision course, the depiction of which will feel pleasantly familiar for fans of Gods of Jade and Shadow.

Despite the violence of Elvis and the casual but elaborate lies of Maite, neither character is unsympathetic (though Maite crosses the line into pathetic for much of the book). Neither Elvis or Maite have families you could call supportive, or even nice, so it keeps them from being unlikable, if not particularly likeable, either. Maite is full of negative self-talk wants reality to be lovely and syrupy, and Elvis longs to earn the sophistication of his cultured leader, El Mago. The two characters earn the reader’s sympathy through their missteps.

Though I found the search for Maite’s rebellious, privileged neighbor wasn’t quite enough to sustain the whole book, as usual, Moreno-Garcia’s writing is wonderful and her characters are unforgettable. Read it on a rainy day, when you don’t mind sinking in to a bit of gloom; skip it if you need your mood to be brighter. But if you choose to go along for this book’s occasionally drawn out ride, the strangely moving, reservedly hopeful ending will leave you glad you did.

To learn more about this author, visit Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s website.

Read on!

Review: Gods of Jade and Shadow (Moreno-Garcia)

Review: Throne of Sand (Rookwood & Vince)

Review: Snowblind (Velfman)

Review: Ariadne (Saint)

August 31, 2021August 23, 2021

Ariadne, by Jennifer Saint (Myth Retelling/Fantasy, 2021)

Oh, Ariadne. Not quite the hero you were advertised to be, and not forgettable, either. This story is uneven but has the ability to truly move the reader.

That’s because Ariadne the book contains beautiful, emotional prose and some aggravating plot points. This female-centered retelling of the Theseus and the Minotaur Greek myth was not what I expected. If you are also expecting a feminist retelling (as I did from the first few chapters), there are hints of that—often whole segments of it—but Ariadne and her sister Phaedra, two powerless princesses of Crete, never become the heroes of their own tale. This is a retelling sparing of no one, with the unforgiving nature of ancient Greece’s views on women (and perhaps on all women in general) on full display.

Ariadne ultimately portrays a woman who’s content with being a wife and mother—something not often featured in fantasy novels or myth retellings. As a child, she tries to see the human side of her half-bull brother, who becomes an infamous monster, caring for him as her mother did and illustrating her tender nature; yet she’s also willing to help Theseus kill Asterion to save herself. Though she debates about doing it, she acts swiftly when it’s asked of her.

Abandoned on Naxos and fearing both her father and the backlash of her betrayal, Ariadne commits to a life as Bacchus’s “priestess,” securing a safe place for herself. She later shares her home isle of Naxos with women escaping their lot in life, who live in peace on Bacchus’s isle.

Her sister Phaedra, on the other hand, becomes a true stateswoman (by convincing the men of Athens that she’s only sitting in for her husband, Theseus, who’s always off doing “heroic” deeds). She suffers from postpartum depression, which is written with convincing and sensitive detail.

However, Phaedra’s conclusion that she can’t really form an attachment to her sons because they resemble their father waters this down: her depression becomes a product of her hatred for her husband. Her political future goes down the drain when she insists on caring for her firstborn herself, so she can hide that she doesn’t love her baby. This, in turn, isolates her and makes her despair all the more. She’s stretched thin and becomes emotionally brittle, no longer the strong-willed and level-headed girl who wanted to save the tributes from Athens.

The men of the book are greedy, self-centered and often cruel, though nobody’s hands stay clean in the story (then again, it is a Greek myth). I kept rooting for Ariadne to be her own person for longer than a couple chapters, but alas, the origin story was against her. (For a different take, I highly recommend The King Must Die, by Mary Renault.) It can be jarring, though, comparing Ariadne’s moment of action to the rest of the book. By the time she chooses to act again, she’s clearly out of practice.

I wanted more from this book, but at the same time, I’m glad I read it. That’s because of the beautiful writing. The early chapters read like a crash-course in mythology, which can be slow at times, but enforces the message that women always pay the price for men’s deeds or other women’s jealousy. While that may be important to read—and again, Jennifer Saint’s writing!—it can also be trying.

To learn more about this author, visit jennifersaint.com.

Review: Throne of Glass (Maas)

August 24, 2021August 23, 2021

Throne of Glass (Throne of Glass #1), by Sarah J. Maas (YA/New Adult Fantasy, August 2012)

This was not 100% my kind of book…yet I found myself reading it for hours on end!

At 18, Celaena Sardothien is the Queen of the Underworld, the most accomplished assassin in Adarlan and a prisoner at the Endovier death camp. She’s physically weak and scarred—but mentally she’s unbroken. Her mantra is “I will not be afraid.” Yet when the son of the King she hates arrives with an offer to win a place as the King’s Champion, it’s one she can’t refuse. It’s a miracle she’s survived a year in Endovier as it is.

Life at the palace isn’t easy. Celaena is torn about working for the man who cost her everything, but has few alternatives. Surrounded by guards at all times and with the threat of being sent back to Endovier hanging over her, she must face other champions in a series of tests, and there are some very strange markings on the castle grounds. Those markings prove to be Wyrdmarks, symbols with strange properties no one can quite agree on, in a kingdom where magic is outlawed.

Things get trickier still when she meets the ghost of Elena, a long-dead queen of Adarlan. She has a message for Celaena, and naturally it’s a cryptic one.

The early part of the story reads like more traditional fantasy, with a stony protagonist skilled with weapons ready to square off with injustice. It proves far more nuanced than that, thankfully, and conflicted characters abound. Throne of Glass walks the line between multiple fantasy genres, so can appeal to many types of fantasy readers.

Technically, Throne of Glass is impeccably written. Celaena’s story is riveting, too, with a highly skilled assassin who ends up as an underdog because of physical and political circumstances. Though I wasn’t sold on the premise early on, it had an uncanny ability to keep me wondering what happened next.

Since I love monsters and paranormal elements in fantasy, I really got absorbed in the story once Elena entered the picture. The Wyrdmarks are creepy and fascinating, and I am team Chaol all the way. A female protagonist who is notably arrogant, not to mention equal parts skilled and confident (perhaps overconfident, given her uphill battle to return to her old Adarlan’s assassin form…but just a little) was different and refreshing.

This is partly because, strong and unbreakable as she is, Celaena has a softer side, too (she loves books and dogs, after all!). She cries at times and has traumatic memories she can’t allow herself to think about. I felt that she could do anything, but was please that her story involved so many understandable struggles. There were no half-hearted challenges here or hero’s problems that were actually easy to overcome. Celaena is a strong woman who still needed–and could accept–help.

I can see why so many people love this series! There is the promise of more magic (though Wyrdmarks are somehow outside of it) and multiverse involvement, plus those paranormal plotlines. Though I thought the climax to be a bit drawn out, it allowed all Celaena’s strengths and weaknesses to come together. I also wanted to shake her a few times (of course you should figure out where that scent is coming from, Celaena!), but that’s a sign of how deeply invested I was in her story.

I look forward to seeing what Celaena Sardothien will do next, and what (or should that be who?) she’ll turn out to be.

To learn more about this author, visit her website at sarahjmaas.com.

Review: The Poppy War (Kuang)

August 3, 2021July 26, 2021

The Poppy War (The Poppy War #1), R.F. Kuang (Fantasy; May 2018)

Warning: Moderate spoilers ahead. This book also requires several trigger warnings.

“War doesn’t determine who’s right. War determines who remains,” says Fang Runin (“Rin”), heroine of The Poppy War, long before the horrors of war reach her. Her journey is jarring, unexpected and progressively darker in this remarkable but flawed book.

Early in The Poppy War, Rin’s journey takes on a (far grittier and a lot less magical) Harry Potter-like quality as she enters Sinegard, Nikan’s top military academy. Rin becomes a student through ridiculously hard work, self-harm (she uses hot wax to keep herself awake as she crams for the national exam) and against the odds. She’s a war orphan living with a family of opium dealers, and her only way out of an unwanted marriage is to pass the exam and go to school. She aims for Sinegard, where only the best and brightest go, because it does not require tuition.

“The creation of the empire requires conformity and uniform obedience. It requires teachings that can be mass-produced across the entire county.”

–Jiang in The Poppy War, explaining why shamanism has all but died out in Nikan

The girl nobody expected to reach Sinegard, let alone succeed there, ends up on a strange path. Forced out of martial arts class, where she is woefully unprepared, she tries to teach herself, a move that earns her the notice of the mostly absent lore teacher Jiang.

The relationship between Jiang and Rin is unexpectedly beautiful. The eccentric master, brushed off as a madman by most people, opens the door for her to the true nature of things. Rin is the rare student who learns how to be a shaman, which involves psychedelic drugs, meditation, the existence of Nikan’s natural gods and the ability to call down their power. The girl who despised the opium addicts in her hometown changes her tune when she realizes those drugs can help her get power.

And Rin is obsessed with just that. Filled with anger and a drive for vengeance, she quickly becomes entangled with the Phoenix, a dangerous god with all-consuming power. The more powerful she becomes, the more power she desires—and that begins to scare her.

As war arrives in Nikan via the Japanese-like Mugen Federation, Rin’s days of struggle become idyllic by comparison. Author R.F. Kuang, a modern Chinese history scholar, includes deeply disturbing factual incidents when she writes about war, particularly from the Rape of Nanjing. There’s no humanity in her depiction of war, and Rin responds accordingly.

The writing and storytelling in The Poppy War is superb. Even so, it becomes difficult to read, though she handles the subject matter more sensitively than many fantasy authors. I had to think twice about whether I want to continue with the series, and wondered whether including selective parts of history is a disservice. The topic of comfort women, for example, is given a single scene, in a single location, that does not at all capture the systematic nature of sexual slavery by Japanese forces in World War II. One book (even a history book) couldn’t possibly encapsulate all the horrors and events. It’s my personal feeling that, in fantasy, there needs to be a wider gap between history and imagined worlds than this, so that victims’ real life suffering isn’t used as a plot element or given a perfunctory nod.

The evolution of Rin’s character also makes me reluctant to continue reading. Rin’s quote about war proves both prophetic and oversimplified. Her character becomes unpalatable through the choices she makes and how she justifies them (not to mention that she uses her abilities in a senseless way; there were other, more precise options that would have achieved her goals and still granted her vengeance, but that is barely discussed). If I continue reading the series, it will be in the hope that Rin can claw her way back toward some semblance of redemption and sanity—but that would be hard to believe.

To learn more about this author, visit rfkuang.com.

Review: Between Jobs (Gingell)

July 20, 2021July 12, 2021

Between Jobs (The City Between #1), W.R. Gingell (2018; urban fantasy, quirky fantasy)

Madcap is a word often associated with Gingell‘s writing. The beloved City Between series kicks off with a new take on her unique writing style, in which the absurd is juxtaposed onto the ordinary, with extraordinary results.

The narrator of Between Jobs is known only as Pet—and that’s what she becomes for three non-humans who enter her family home. That home isn’t really hers. Pet’s parents were murdered in that house, and being underage, she couldn’t inherit. So she squats in the well-hidden room that saved her years ago, and saves money by working under the table at a local cafe. When Atelas, Zeno and Jinyeong purchase the family home, Pet—who refers to them as her “three psychos”—gets accustomed to other people being in the home again. It’s sort of comforting.

Until they find her. Set in Hobart, Australia and full of local dialect (Pet’s catchphrase is practically “Flaming heck!”), Pet gets enmeshed in the supernatural murder investigation conducted by her “three psychos.” With the promise of a little endearingly awkward romance on the horizon, Pet’s plucky outlook and enthralling world-building, the book takes readers on a sometimes violent and often hilarious adventure through Hobart Between and Hobart Behind.

The gruesome opening, in which Pet finds herself next door to another murder, was a shock after reading Gingell’s other work, and sets a darker, grittier tone. The deeper I got into Between Jobs, the more I loved it. I came very close to binge-reading with this one, and certainly lost hours of sleep. I am firmly team Jinyeong (they have to get together, right? Never mind the part about him being a vampire who will only speak Korean until he masters English) and can’t wait to continue the series. Keeping the “three psychos” as enigmatic characters is also genius; reviews of later books on Goodreads promise a serious twist.

This is an unforgettable book that’s wonderfully strange, dark and endearing all at once. I hope you’re not as behind as me on this series, but if you haven’t started yet, you should pick this one up. Immediately.

To learn more about this author, please visit her website.

Review: A Trial of Thorns (Rookwood & Vince)

July 13, 2021July 12, 2021

A Trial of Thorns (A Court of Fairy Tales #2), by Helena Rookwood and Elm Vince (June 17, 2021; fantasy, fairytale retelling)

(Note: I received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.)

A Trial of Thorns departs from its roots as a Beauty and the Beast retelling as a major plot twist plays out, dropping Aster in the middle of court fae trials to determine who will be the next king or queen of the fae. Best of all, Aster, whose character is drawn from Belle/Beauty, continues to forge her own path.

Caught in a contest of fae heirs as an unwilling champion, Aster flounders more desperately in A Trial of Thorns. And it’s no wonder: she’s in unfamiliar territory. Everything about the fae of this series sets them apart from humans, from their unearthly beauty to their superhuman abilities and lifespans. Aside from Thorn and the Forest Court, humans don’t mean much to the average fae—and are treated accordingly. Worse still, Aster’s abilities as a greenwitch and enchantress are rendered null in the Sky Court, where the only plants are contained in greenhouse.

I appreciated but did not fully love A Trial of Thorns at first (excepting the parts with the wonderful brownie Mosswhistle, who is perfect in all scenes). The last third to quarter of the book, however, is superb. The authors don’t let Aster and Thorn have a mindless happily ever after that ignores their problems. Instead, they lean in to the severe issues between humans and fae.

It’s a pleasure to see Aster not let Thorn and her other fae friends off the hook, and to take charge of her situation. The serious conversations between them are well-rendered and everything you’d want from an independent and compassionate heroine.

The descriptive writing is not as strong in this book, largely because Rookwood and Vince excel at writing about the natural world—especially when it skews toward dark fantasy. The Sky Court is almost clinical in nature, full of marble and character-less luxury (the House Hunters crowd would be unimpressed, but hey, Faolan’s got his own style). The Trials themselves are creatively designed, and reminded me pleasantly of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, with a dash of Greco-Roman mythology. Which means there’s always a clever twist for readers to enjoy. Those are my kind of trials.

I did miss the authors’ forest descriptions and the constant danger of the Folkwood. The dangers Aster faces in A Trial of Thorns come more from brutal, conniving fae plots and politics; those who enjoyed reading about Tyrion and the other Lannisters in George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series will be happiest, while fans of Alexis Henderson’s The Year of the Witching will be rooting for Aster to find her way home.

A Trial of Thorns is something of a transitional book, as so many second books are (I’m looking at you, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets!), and that usual means some growing pains. But I put down this book satisfied with the direction the series is going in, happy with Aster’s evolution (get ’em, girl!) and excited for whatever happens next.

To learn more about these authors, please visit helenarookwood.com and elmvince.com.

Review: Witches Steeped in Gold (Smart)

July 6, 2021June 30, 2021

Witches Steeped in Gold (Witches Steeped in Gold #1), by Ciannon Smart (Dark Fantasy; April 2021)

Aiyca, the witch-led world of dueling narrators Jazmyne and Iraya, is absolutely fascinating.

Iraya (“Ira”) is the rightful heir to a toppled throne, sent to prison like so many of her Obeah sistren. Jazmyne is the heir to the Alumbrar usurper (or liberator, depending on how you look at it). With the Obeah imprisoned, subjugated and used for their talents, a rebellion is imminent. And Iraya is just the witch the Obeah rebels been waiting for.

“Trouble doesn’t give signs like rain, so we must always be ready for it.” – Witches Steeped in Gold

Jazmyne, meanwhile, wants to see her mother’s rule end, too. With no magic of her own (she can’t inherit the throne or her family’s magic until her mother’s death), she is stuck with politicking and plotting behind closed doors. Against gold conduit-fed magic and ruthless rule, her only weapons are loyalty and plans. She comes off disappointingly weak at times, but is also easy to root for.

Readers are dropped into the magic system and receive piecemeal information along the way, so it can be hard to get into at first. In certain sentences, plentiful clauses took me out of narratives I truly wanted to sink deeper into. I did eventually, and I thought the Jamaican-inspired world, and the system of gold conduits/inheritance were wonderful. The Obeah’s abilities to summon the help of the dead also ticked a few boxes for me in my Sabriel-loving heart.

Fantasy fans searching for female-led narratives and LGBTQ characters should also take a look at this one. In Aiyca, there’s not a dominant man in sight, and same-sex relationships are written of matter-of-factly and without any hints of social stigma (though note that these are relegated to peripheral characters and not the narrators themselves).

I found myself rooting for both heroines of Witches Steeped in Gold, knowing all the while (and eagerly anticipating that) they would one day face off. The snafu in everyone’s plans that is pirate society was also a great addition—and makes for some of my favorite chapters. As much as I appreciated this book, I do wish it had gotten to all the good stuff faster!

Don’t overlook the fact that a sequel is coming, either. I sadly didn’t realize this and expected a more satisfying wrap-up. I also found the major decision of a certain character to be more unlikely than unexpected, though it sets the stage for future conflict. I’m undecided, at this moment, whether I’ll continue with the series (which could be a nod to my impatience with longer books more than anything), but it may be too hard to stay away from Jazmyne and Iraya’s world.

It’s just that good.

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C.K. Beggan

Tag: book review

Review of The Daughter of Earth (Pey)

The Daughter of Earth (The Dryad Chronicles #1), by Callie Pey (romantic Fantasy, Steamy fantasy; 2021)

Want more fantasy titles with romance?

Review of Phoenix Heart: Ashes

Phoenix Heart: Episode 1: Ashes (Phoenix Heart Season 1 #1), by Sarah K.L. Wilson (Fantasy; July 2021)

Review of When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain (Vo)

Review: When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain (The Singing Hills Cycle #2), by Nghi Vo (Fantasy; 2020)

Review: Velvet Was the Night (Moreno-Garcia)

Velvet Was the Night, by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (Noir, Pulp Fiction; 2021)

Review: Ariadne (Saint)

Ariadne, by Jennifer Saint (Myth Retelling/Fantasy, 2021)

Review: Throne of Glass (Maas)

Throne of Glass (Throne of Glass #1), by Sarah J. Maas (YA/New Adult Fantasy, August 2012)

Review: The Poppy War (Kuang)

The Poppy War (The Poppy War #1), R.F. Kuang (Fantasy; May 2018)

“The creation of the empire requires conformity and uniform obedience. It requires teachings that can be mass-produced across the entire county.”

Review: Between Jobs (Gingell)

Between Jobs (The City Between #1), W.R. Gingell (2018; urban fantasy, quirky fantasy)

Other posts about W.R. Gingell:

Review: A Trial of Thorns (Rookwood & Vince)

A Trial of Thorns (A Court of Fairy Tales #2), by Helena Rookwood and Elm Vince (June 17, 2021; fantasy, fairytale retelling)

Other posts about Helena Rookwood & Elm Vince:

Review: Witches Steeped in Gold (Smart)

Witches Steeped in Gold (Witches Steeped in Gold #1), by Ciannon Smart (Dark Fantasy; April 2021)

“Trouble doesn’t give signs like rain, so we must always be ready for it.” – Witches Steeped in Gold