Emily Joy reviews Tokyo Love by Rica Takashima

Tokyo Love

Trigger warning for some transphobia

In Tokyo Love, Rica Takashima explores a semi-autobiographical story of recently-out college-age lesbian, and what it was like to be queer in Tokyo in the 1990s before dating apps and online LGBTQ communities became more commonplace. This book is an omnibus of a serial manga she created originally for the lesbian magazine Anise(now defunct), and includes later chapters published after Anise was discontinued.

Tokyo Love follows a young woman named Rica (not to be confused with the author) after she first comes to Tokyo for college and ventures into Shinjuku Ni-choume, Tokyo’s gay district. Rica is adorably naïve and genuine and full of enthusiastic curiosity. She quickly meets an art student named Miho, and through the rest of the manga, Miho is her Ni-choume guide, and eventual girlfriend. Focusing primarily on their relationship, Tokyo Love showcases Japanese lesbian experiences in short episodic doses.

All and all, I found this book to be cute and fun. Some of the best parts of this book are in some of the earliest chapters where readers learn along with Rica about Ni-choume and Japanese lesbian bar culture. Although I live in Japan, I don’t particularly enjoy bars and haven’t gotten up my introvert courage to visit Ni-choume. This manga was fascinating, and I loved enjoying it from the quiet of my own apartment.

Although this is not necessarily a “coming out” story, over the course of the manga, Rica experiences many “firsts” of her lesbian experience, allowing the narrative to explore different topics like bar culture, having sex for the first time, her first girlfriend, and discovering LGBTQ community. Despite all these first experiences, Rica is already sure and established in her sexuality and attraction to women, and there isn’t any of the coming out drama that might otherwise be included.

Chapters are also included which show Rica and Miho’s respective childhoods and first feelings of attraction towards other girls, which is a nice addition.

My only major criticism of Tokyo Love is the depiction of a trans woman in one of the chapters. Rica meets a woman at a college mixer, and they agree to go on a date. However, when Rica suggests they end the night at a women-only bar, her date declines, fearing that she hasn’t “perfected her female body” enough to go inside. After realizing that her date is assigned male at birth, Rica responds in a thought bubble, “You’re a man!” It’s played off as very lighthearted and comical, and Rica’s date doesn’t seem upset in the least, but it was a rather jarring experience for me as the reader.  While not stated outright, this seems to end the potential for another date, and the character is never mentioned again.  It was a very disappointing scene, in an otherwise good manga. And although there isn’t anything offensive in the rest of the book, this chapter might have been enough for me to think poorly of it as a whole.

Despite being left with a sour taste in my mouth from that chapter, the rest of the manga was mostly enjoyable. The art is cute, and although the story became a bit dull for me at a certain point, I still enjoyed it for what it was, and read it until the end. If you are curious about the experience of being a lesbian in Japan in the 90s, you might consider this one.

If you’d like to read Tokyo Love, the publisher has made it free online, and you can read it and download it as a PDF: http://www.yuricon.com/yuriconalc/RTKO/files/inc/1218031951.pdf You can also purchase a Kindle edition on Amazon, but I don’t recommend it, because the text is sometimes too small or blurry to read, but is clear on the PDF!

Bee reviews Wilder Girls by Rory Power

Wilder Girls by Rory Powers

Spoiler Warning

Trigger Warnings: body horror, gore, violence

The things I heard about Wilder Girls before I picked it up:

  • Lord of the Flies-esque, but with girls
  • Body horror
  • Secrets and lies
  • Queer girls

And needless to say, I was sold. If the ethereal and captivatingly disturbing cover weren’t enough, these tidbits promised something dark and twisted that appealed to my love of the grotesque and monstrous girls in love.

Wilder Girls centres on the students of Raxter, an all-girls boarding school on an island off the coast of Maine. The school has been quarantined after an outbreak of an untraceable disease called the Tox, which manifests itself in different ways for whoever contracts it: second spines bursting through the skin, scales growing over limbs, unhealed blisters and sores which ooze and bleed without relief. In the worst cases, the Tox turns the girls feral and violent, forcing their peers to put them down like animals. The core trio of girls are Hetty, Byatt, and Reese, close-knit friends who distance themselves from the others for their own protection. Hetty is connected to Byatt like a sister, and secretly yearns for something more with Reese, which is threatened when Hetty is put on the team which collects the shipments of supplies and rations from the mainland, and becomes privy to some dark truths.

In reading Wilder Girls, I was consistently reminded of the movie Annihilation–yes, that one with Gina Rodriguez with an undercut, a tank top, and a big gun. The blending of nature and bodies, the twisted manifestations of the Tox, reminded me a lot of the visuals in the film. There are also mutant animals which threaten the girls’ lives; there is a particularly memorable scene with a disfigured bear which is a little too reminiscent of the scene from Annihilation. However, the similarities weren’t a problem for me. I loved the film and its aesthetic, especially the way it presented twisted depictions of bodies and a rawness in all its women. After watching it, I definitely wanted more. Wilder Girls gave it to me. Rory Power’s descriptions are evocative and visceral, creating that same rawness which worked so well for me in the film. Maybe these similarities are subjective, but I do think it’s a worthy comparison, especially if you were a fan of the movie. I may have to pick up the book by Jeff VanderMeer to see if the similarities are that concrete.

There are obvious differences, too. The relationships between Byatt, Hetty, and Reese are a major drawcard; they are strong and complicated, and the girls are all sharp in their own ways, making for compelling reading. The attraction between Hetty and Reese isn’t soft by any means: it’s a rough sort of yearning, with a desperation that I feel we don’t normally see in YA. It, like the rest of the book, is dark–and it’s deliciously appealing.

The ultimate answer of what the Tox is, and the involvement of a navy research base, did seem a bit rushed to me, and left me with more questions than answers. If you are looking for a book which neatly ties everything up and reveals the entire mystery to you, then this is perhaps not a good choice. But I did enjoy that as more plot points at revealed, the conspiracy deepens and the desperation heightens. One thing that can definitely be said about the characters is that none of them are perfect, and none of them are selfless. In fact, they are all selfish in their own ways, and it makes for some realistic and believable reading.

Wilder Girls, for me, is a highly recommended read. It is a violent representation of girlhood of a kind that is rare in fiction, and deserves to be celebrated. It helps that the characters are well realised and have depth, and the whole thing is grounded in female friendship. It is also served well by Power’s frank and unrelenting prose. This is a book which I feel can tempt even people who don’t usually read YA–fans of horror in general should find something to like. I for one am definitely looking forward to reading more of Power’s work in the future.

Link Round Up: August 23 – September 3

Lesbrary Links collage

This is the Lesbrary bi-weekly feature where we take a look at all the lesbian and bi women book news and reviews happening on the rest of the internet!

Cantoras by Carolina de Robertis  His Hideous Heart edited by Dahlia Adler   Stage Dreams by Melanie Gillman  Once and Future by Amy Rose Capetta and Cori McCarthy  High School by Tegan and Sara

Advocate posted 30 Queer-Friendly Books for Young Adults, Kids, and Families.

Electric Lit posted 7 Debut Collections That Continue the Lineage of Queer Poetry.

Lambda Literary posted New in September: Tegan & Sara, Akwaeke Emezi, and Benjamin Moser.

LGBTQ Reads posted New Releases: September 2019.

Logo posted Xena Is Even Gayer in Vita Ayala’s Latest Comic Book Reboot.

Okazu posted Queerness in Sailor Moon: Is It Progressive or is it Just Progress?

Melanie Gillman wrote about their process of researching queer and trans history for Stage Dreams at the Lerner Blog.

The Letters of Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf  Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me by Mariko Tamaki  Space Battle Lunchtime Vol 1  The Miseducation of Cameron Post by emily m danforth  Gnarled Hollow by Charlotte Greene

“What to Know About Virginia Woolf’s Love Affair With Vita Sackville-West” was posted at Time.

“Five Years of Flame Con” was posted at School Library Journal.

“Read it and weep: LGBTQ kids deserve queer-friendly books” was posted at the Berkeley Beacon.

Vira Letra, a lesbian book publisher in Brazil, was written about at Pioneers Post.

Gnarled Hollow by Charlotte Greene was reviewed at C-Spot Reviews.

The Stonewall Riots: A Documentary History by Marc Stein was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

This post, and all posts at the Lesbrary, have the covers linked to their Amazon pages. If you click through and buy something, I might get a small referral fee. For even  more links, check out the Lesbrary’s twitter! We’re also on FacebookGoodreadsYoutube and Tumblr.

Thank you to the Lesbrary’s Patreon supporters! Special thanks to Sarah Neilson, Shelly Farrell, Martha Hansen, Daniela Gonzalez De Anda, Amy Hanson, Bee Oder, Hannah Dent, Ellen Zemlin, and Casey Stepaniuk.

Support the Lesbrary on Patreon at $2 or more a month and be entered to win a queer women book every month!

Mary reviews Hidden Truths by Jae

Hidden Truths by Jae

I loved the story of Luke and Nora in Backwards to Oregon by Jae, in which a woman in disguise as a man marries another woman in what starts as a fake relationship to help each other on the long Oregon trial, turns into a romantic, slow burn favorite of mine. You can find my review for that here. Hidden Truths is the sequel set 17 years later and focuses more on Luke and Nora’s eldest daughter Amy and her romance with newcomer to the horse ranch, Rika. Amy has grown up under the love of her parents and given much more freedom than most women in her age. She also feels an attraction to women that she struggles with but is able to keep locked down – that is until she meets Rika. Rika comes to Oregon pretending to be her her dead friend to be a mail order bride to a man who works on the farm. Along with all of that, Luke still hasn’t revealed to her two daughters that she is a woman, despite them both being old enough to keep the secret.

Hidden identity is a theme I love and here it was explored so well. Luke is hiding her gender, Rika is hiding her name and history, and Amy is hiding her sexuality. All of these conflicts and storylines weave together and build off of each other. Each character moves the other forward in their arc and development. Everyone gets a moment to shine, which I’m glad for as I was worried when I saw how big the cast is.

The romance between Amy and Rika was very engaging. I could really believe who they slowly took time to get to know each other, then to trust one another, and then to slowly fall in love. At the same time both are struggling with secrets they have from each other.

However, the romance isn’t the only plot. Luke takes some of his horses to another state to sell them and Amy is left in charge of the ranch. She has to deal with men not wanting to follow her command in an era where women were nothing more than wives.

I also really appreciated the world building and the clear expansive amount of research the author had put in. I love historical fiction and nothing can ruin a story more for me than feeling plots points and character movements are out of place for the era. At the same time, it can be just as damning to have too much exposition on the world and the time period. Jae masterfully weaves in the information with the characters and their stories.

Overall, this was a great read I recommend to anyone who likes historical fiction and/or stories with hidden identity. This is a sequel, but I think it stands very well on its own if you want to start here instead of Backwards to Oregon (but I do highly recommend that one as well).

The Lesbrary has Updated the Recommendations Page!

The Lesbrary has a recommendations master list, where I (Danika) keep a looooong list of all my favourite queer women books! You can check it out any time, but below is the updated list, with new additions from this month bolded!

Classics:

Mystery/Thrillers:

Fiction:

Historical Fiction:

Poetry:

Young Adult

Middle Grade:

SFF Young Adult:

Sci Fi:

Fantasy:

Horror/Zombies/Vampires:

Romance and Erotica:

Comics/Graphic Novels/Manga:

Memoirs and Biographies:

Nonfiction:

If you like what we do here and want to see more of it, buy us a coffee, or support the Lesbrary on Patreon for $2 or more a month and be entered into monthly book giveaways!

Danika reviews The Archive of Alternate Endings by Lindsey Drager

The Archive of Alternate Endings by Lindsey DragerThis is a story about storytelling, which means I was immediately invested. The Archive of Alternate Endings explores the story of Hansel and Gretel, as it plays out in the returns of Halley’s comet throughout time. From the first chapter, I was delighted by the skill at play here. Two stories, which concern different people in different time periods, wind around each other and play off one another. The first chapter felt complete in itself, a bittersweet story set during the AIDS crisis while also being about the Grimm brothers. I wasn’t sure how this would play out in novel format, but the next chapter lived up to it, following different people and times, but with enough threads that I felt sure they would twine together by the end of the book.

It turns out that Archive attempts to do many things: it’s not enough to be about storytelling as demonstrated in the tellings of Hansel and Gretel over the ages while being framed by Halley’s comet. Until very recently, something this experimental wouldn’t also be queer. At least, it wouldn’t be queer the way this book is, introducing multiple gay men protagonists in the first chapter and lesbian protagonists in the second. Only a few years ago, you might see a novel like this end up queer—they might slip that in later in the book—but it wouldn’t be right away. That would be seen as limiting your audience even further. I’m relieved to finally be in a place where books like this are published, where they aren’t limited.

As I mentioned, this attempts to be a lot of things. Each story has a pair of siblings: stand ins for Hansel and Gretel. This isn’t just a book about stories, it’s also concerned with the relationships between siblings. I ended up liking those first two chapters best, because as this story spirals, it seems to lose cohesion: it’s about not just storytelling and Hansel and Gretel and Halley’s comet and sibling relationships, but also the end of the world, the AIDS crisis, spider webs, and even mouths become recurring themes.

So many characters don’t have names, just relationships with each other, and it was only near the end that I started to understand how they fit together: I felt like I had to take notes to realize how characters like “the illustrator” and “Halley’s niece” were related. It seemed like I’d have to immediately start the book over again to have any chance of really getting it. When I read the notes at the end, I learned that this was originally several short stories published separately and reworked into a novel. For me, they don’t really cohere. I love the concept, but I didn’t feel like it was pulled it off. I lost interest as it continued. There are definite moments of brilliance, and so much potential, but I think I would have enjoyed this better if I had just read the first two short stories, or maybe if it had been packaged as a collection of related short stories instead of being advertised as a novel.

Of course, this is a demanding, ambitious book, and I fully admit that it might have just gone over my head. This may be one I have to come back to and spend more time with to fully appreciate.

Meagan Kimberly reviews The Sanctuary of Themyscira by Leila Hedyth

The Sanctuary of Themyscira by Leila Hedyth

In the first of the Amazons series by Hedyth, Kylla is rescued from imprisonment and thrown into an otherworldly adventure on the mythical island of Themyscira, home of the legendary Amazonian women. However, the paradise of a land ruled by women, away from the patriarchal world, is not all it seems. Kylla soon learns the history of the Amazons, as well as their secrets and regrets, and what role she plays in it all.

I had a hard time getting into this book, as the language felt awkward and out of place, not only in the dialogue, but in the exposition. I do recognize though that this was written in translation, so it could simply be a matter of that. It seems like such a small detail to nitpick, but the constant repetition of certain words, like “grandiose” to describe everything that left Kylla in awe or “piercing” to describe everyone’s eyes, is distracting when trying to follow the story.

The language also felt stilted and unnatural, as if the author/translator tried to create a lofty voice for the Amazons. The problem this creates is one in which not a single Amazon is discernible from another. Even the main character sounds like this, but she comes from what can only be described as “the real world,” so there isn’t a clear reason as to why she speaks this way.

There’s a lack of setup for the world Kylla lives in before she’s rescued and taken to Themyscira. It’s a vague context of an overly patriarchal world that uses and abuses women, but not enough time is spent developing that world to show why Kylla is whisked away to safety and refuge. Throughout her time on the island, there are a few details sprinkled about her clan, giving the reader the idea she might come from indigenous people, but it’s never made clear.

As the story unfolds, more and more characters are introduced. There are the Amazons Ines, Cynthia, Lorelei, Re’gan, Johanne, the Queen Iris, and so many more. There is such a wide cast of characters that the reader never has enough time to get to know any one in particular. In fact, it’s even hard to remember that Kylla, the main character of the novel, is indeed the main character. She fades too easily into the background of what’s going on around her, never making a lasting impression.

Because of this lack of character and relationship development, the stakes fail to land and leave a meaningful impact. By the time the reader gets to the end of the book, they’re left wondering why they should care. Between the overwhelming number of characters and fast pace of sequence of events, it’s easy to tune out while reading and miss so many details. It felt like the author tried to make one book out of two or three.

The story doesn’t focus on any specific w|w pairing, but there are a couple main ones that take place throughout the novel. But again, there was such a lack of development between the characters that these romances fell short of the potential they had to bloom and depict a healthy, loving example of queer women relationships. This underdevelopment is detrimental to the inclusion of people of color among the characters as well. Brief, surface descriptions when a new character is introduced are the only indicators that this world even has black and/or brown women. Their ethnic, cultural, and racial backgrounds are so minimally important that it reads more like the author was working off a checklist of diversity.

The most compelling content in the novel is the second section, which goes into the history of the Amazons. For those familiar with Greek mythology and the mythos of the Amazons, this part of the story holds strong. It relies so much on familiarity with the myths, that without it, the novel as a whole could not stand on its own. However, within the section about the Amazons’ history, there is a standout character named Phoebe. Her story and her character are by far the most developed in the book, which keeps the reader engaged and interested to see how it all ties together.

Overall, I’d rate the book somewhere between 2.5 and 3 stars. There are moments that kept me reading and intrigued, but on the whole, I felt it needed more development.

Sash S reviews The Gloaming by Kirsty Logan

The Gloaming by Kirsty Logan

“Let the sea take it.”

The Gloaming begins with jellyfish washing up near a cliff by the sea, on an island where the residents die slow deaths by turning to stone. It’s a sad, strange and beautiful scene, just one of many sprinkled throughout this novel.

Our protagonist is Mara, who falls in love with Pearl, who is a selkie or a mermaid or perhaps neither? Myth and metaphor wind around one another, the author weaving multiple fairytales together to create one of her own. Nothing is quite as it seems in this book. All of this is set against the backdrop of an island with “dark, tarry magic” and the tragic loss of the protagonist’s little brother who was swept out to sea. The novel follows Mara and her family as they try to move through their grief, living their lives amidst the push and pull of the island.

It’s up to the reader to decide, in many places, how much of the island’s magic is real and how much is not. In that sense, The Gloaming is an excellent example of magical realism.

It’s also a beautifully written book. The island is painted so vividly it’s not hard to see how Mara and her family are drawn to it. Sentences flow like poetry – or dare I say, like water – with such careful, well-chosen language it’s easy to get swept up in it.

The novel asks big questions about grief and love and family, and answers them by waving its arms in wide, sweeping arcs. True to its title, The Gloaming is shadowy and mysterious and leaves much unsaid. Instead it asks its readers to read between the lines – there are leaps in time, flashes backwards and forwards, conversations we aren’t fully privy to. The plot meanders through at a leisurely pace, with all of the focus being on simply exploring the characters the story presents to us.

That lack of clarity might be frustrating for some, but it fits with the central themes of the novel rather well. The overwhelming confusion of loss; the sharp pain of hope; half-forgotten stories of childhood; a yearning to be somewhere else but not being quite sure where that somewhere else is. Mara’s queerness melds naturally into these themes, but we skirt around the edges of the harder truths of coming out in a small community. The reluctance to be affectionate with Pearl in front of her family is just barely addressed, for example, and we rarely see the world or anyone in it outside of the main characters.

That said, Mara and Pearl’s relationship is only a fraction of the novel. It’s not a romance, so much as a fantasy that threads romance throughout it. Each member of Mara’s family is fleshed-out and we get to peek inside all of their heads, with every familial relationship explored. Signe and Peter, the parents, are delightful to read about. We spend a lot of time with Mara, who, like the “changeling” motif she is associated with, is seen so differently by so many. She’s brave, sensitive, sad, loving, angry and self-conscious all at once. Ultimately, she’s a fascinating protagonist.

Motifs are everywhere: water, stone, time, death, wind, air. It’s very much a modern-day fairytale that pays homage to the centuries of fairytales that preceded it.

If you’re looking for a story that’s purely about romance, The Gloaming might not be for you. However, if you want to read a haunting fantasy that happens to have a queer romance, this is a great book to dive into.

Link Round Up: August 8 – 22

This is the Lesbrary bi-weekly feature where we take a look at all the lesbian and bi women book news and reviews happening on the rest of the internet!

Olivia by Dorothy Strachey  Bury the Lede by Gaby Dunn  Mostly Dead Things by Kristen Arnett   The Stars and the Blackness Between Them by Junauda Petrus   Cantoras by Carolina de Robertis

Autostraddle posted “Olivia” Is One of the Best Lesbian Films of All Time and Now You Can Finally See It and 30 New Books of Queer and Feminist Interest to Get Excited About This Fall.

Bustle posted These 4 Sci-Fi & Fantasy Authors Are Writing The Women-Loving-Women Novels They Always Wanted To Read and I’m So Jealous You Get To Read Heather Rose Jones’s The Alpennia Series For The First Time.

Logo posted 11 Queer Books You Need to Read Before Summer Ends.

Queer Book Corner posted Queer YA: 2019 March-April Recap and Queer YA: 2019 May Recap.

Women and Words updated their New Releases & Coming Up page.

The Psychology of Time Travel by Kate Mascarenhas  The Future of Another Timeline by Annalee Newitz  PS I Miss You by Jen Petro-Roy cover   Alice Payne Arrives by Kate Heartfield  Gods, Monsters, and the Lucky Peach by Kelly Robson

“Why are there so many new books about time-travelling lesbians?” was posted at the Guardian.

“The word is out: Val McDermid selects Britain’s 10 most outstanding LGBTQ writers” was posted at the Guardian.

“Pulp Fiction Helped Define American Lesbianism” was posted at JSTOR.

“New Illinois Law Requires LGBT History To Be Taught In Schools” was posted at Townhall.

“How LGBTQ books and authors are being censored in middle schools” was posted at Entertainment Weekly.

“Literature’s Wildest Lesbian Love Story Is Coming to the Big Screen” was posted at The Stranger.

Motherland by Elissa Altman  Precious and Adored edited by Lizzie Ehrenhalt and Tilly Laskey  The Confessions of Frannie Langton by Sara Collins  Orlando by Virginia Woolf  

Motherland: A Memoir of Love, Loathing, and Longing by Elissa Altman was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

Precious and Adored: The Love Letters of Rose Cleveland and Evangeline Simpson Whipple 1890-1918 edited by Lizzie Ehrenhalt and Tilly Laskey was reviewed at Washington Blade.

The Confessions of Frannie Langton by Sara Collins was reviewed at Black Lesbian Literary Collective.

Delayed Rays of a Star by Amanda Lee Koe was reviewed at Lambda Literary.

This post, and all posts at the Lesbrary, have the covers linked to their Amazon pages. If you click through and buy something, I might get a small referral fee. For even  more links, check out the Lesbrary’s twitter! We’re also on FacebookGoodreadsYoutube and Tumblr.

Thank you to the Lesbrary’s Patreon supporters! Special thanks to Sarah Neilson, Shelly Farrell, Martha Hansen, Daniela Gonzalez De Anda, Amy Hanson, Bee Oder, Hannah Dent, Ellen Zemlin, and Casey Stepaniuk.

Support the Lesbrary on Patreon at $2 or more a month and be entered to win a queer women book every month!

Maggie reviews A Little Light Mischief by Cat Sebastian

A Little Light Mischief by Cat Sebastian

Hello, my name is Maggie and I’m very excited to be reviewing here at the Lesbrary. I’m even more excited that Cat Sebastian, one of my favorite queer romance authors, published a new f/f novella in time for my first review! A Little Light Mischief is a charming romp about some very nice ladies falling in love and doing some crime. Technically, it is part of a previously published m/m series, but don’t let that scare you off if you haven’t previously read Cat’s work–this novella is only very loosely set in the same verse and can easily be read as a standalone (in fact, I have read and loved the rest of the series but couldn’t remember the connection until the end, so the connection is very loose). There are a few trigger warnings to be said: one of the main characters comes from a physically and emotionally abusive childhood and was turned out of her home as an adult when a man exposed his genitals to her. None of this happens in the current story line but is addressed in memories and conversations.

A Little Light Mischief features Molly, a ladies maid with a heart of gold, and Alice, a ladies companion who is accustomed to hard work and usefulness as they work in the same household. One of the characteristics that I love most about Cat’s work is that most of the conflict is external, so what you get is a lot of very soft scenes about characters falling in love with each other and helping each other solve the external conflict. A Little Light Mischief follows this formula deliciously. Both Molly and Alice have already admitted their feelings towards ladies to themselves, and the result is a period of them cautiously looking at each other before coming together in an uncertain situation, drawing comfort from their feelings to fuel their actions (“There’s only one bed!” I shrieked, clutching my phone to my bosom at one point). The conflict arrives when they accompany their employer to a house party. The man who exposed himself to Alice and got her kicked out of her family home is also a guest, and they have to work together to prevent him from ruining her current situation, and maybe even find a little restitution.

That’s the other thing I love about Cat Sebastian stories: they build to very natural and satisfying conclusions. Molly wants to keep her somewhat shady past in the past and build a stable life for herself. Alice wants to do something more satisfying than remaining an idle ladies companion, no matter how nice her employer is. It’s true, the magic bullet here for them to achieve that is crime. But it’s crime in the name of justice. And queerness. So that’s fine. Who among us does not love to read about very soft and competent lesbians with a side of abusers getting their comeuppance? And the situation they end up with is one that is very good and believable for both of them.

If you’re looking for a fun and soft read as a pick-me-up or a light summer romance, A Little Light Mischief is an excellent choice. I enjoyed every second of it, and I hope Cat Sebastian will gift us with more f/f stories in the future.