Concentrated Adorableness in a Queernorm World: The Tea Dragon Society by Kay O’Neill

the cover of The Tea Dragon Society

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

The Tea Dragon Society is a short graphic novel composed of the most concentrated adorableness I have ever encountered. It centers around Greta, an outgoing, compassionate girl training to become a blacksmith—though she sees the profession as somewhat outdated. Rescuing a tea dragon brings her to tea brewers Hesekiel and Erik, and their painfully shy ward Minette, all of whom help Greta decide what truly matters.

Central to this story is the existence of tea dragons, a mix between the ethereal and a sweet but needy pet. These small creatures frolic, snuggle, and occasionally blep. They also sprout tea leaves: fur-puffed Rooibos grows them like a mane, while the languid Jasmine has leafy antlers between his large, curving ears. And don’t get me started on little Chamomile, whose floppy ears, stubby wings, and little puppy body have absolutely captured my heart. (They may keep it.)

The narrative itself is simple enough. This being a first volume, it serves largely to introduce the main characters, and as much plot as it includes is about Greta’s growing maturity. Even so, as someone who usually needs a strong plot, I enjoyed this so much I wish every individual panel came with two pages of text, just to make it last longer. This doesn’t need a plot because it knows what it is and fulfills that purpose.

As for the worldbuilding, well, the book is an exploration of gorgeousness and soft light.

Only as I’m writing this do I realize that the sapphic content is almost ambiguous—to me, Greta and Min’s relationship is clearly a romantic one, even if that romance is of the subtle sort. There are simply too many blushes, meaningful glances, and close moments to be platonic. There’s also a small kiss near the end. It’s coded in a way that would be unambiguous between a cis girl and a cis boy in other media, and for a comic that so normalizes queerness, The Tea Dragon Society seems to me to be an epically tender slow burn.

Zero content warnings here, just a strong recommend for anyone who appreciates a simple tale of nurturing, healing, family, and time.

Maggie reviews Galaxy: The Prettiest Star by Jadzia Axelrod

the cover of Galaxy the Prettiest Star

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

In Galaxy: The Prettiest Star, Taylor has a life-threatening secret. She is the Galaxy-Crowned, an alien princess hiding on Earth from the invaders that destroyed her home as a baby. Taylor’s guardian fled with her and two others to Earth, disguising themselves not only as humans, but also turning Taylor into a boy as an extra layer of misdirection. Taking their cues about normal human families from sitcoms, they settle into a small town to hide, and every year that passes Taylor grows more miserable. Not allowed to be her true self, not allowed to hang out with other kids after school lest they figure something out or be put in danger, not even allowed to grow her hair out, Taylor feels like something has got to give. Which is when she meets Kat, a new transplant from Metropolis. They click instantly, and Taylor has to decide how far she’s willing to go to be herself. Galaxy: The Prettiest Star is a beautiful trans coming of age story with a layer of superhero science fiction shellacked over top, and the result is an enjoyable yet emotional and impactful read that I deeply wish I had had access to as a teenager.

The being yourself narrative is strong within this story, and with Taylor being forced to repress not only her gender but her very species; she is trans both in her gender and in the very makeup of her being, bringing multiple layers for her to work through. Taylor the human boy plays basketball, has one bro friend, and isn’t allowed to grow his hair out or go to parties lest something give away that he’s not human. Taelyr the Galaxy-Crowned has purple skin and luxurious teal hair, discovers she loves to experiment with hair and makeup, and hangs out with her new girlfriend.

I love Kat—who among us does not wish they met a cool out-of-town girlfriend who helped us immensely with our self confidence in high school?. Kat is dismayed to find herself in a small town, but not dismayed by anything about Taylor. They share an instant connection, and when Kat states that she’s not into guys, she accepts Taelyr’s statement that she is not a guy, even before she reveals that she’s also an alien. Kat is the lifeline that Taelyr needs to grow her self-confidence because even though they’re not alike, Kat understand being herself as a conscious process. I think both adult and teen readers will appreciate both the emotional resonance and the sweetness of their romance, and watching Taelyr coming fully into herself is a fulfilling arc. It’s so significant for DC to publish a graphic novel about a trans character, and although I suspect that some may find making a trans character also a secret alien from outer space a tad heavy-handed, I’m equally certain that there will be plenty of people over the moon excited to project themselves onto a purple space princess struggling to find herself in a small-minded small town.

The other thing I really loved about this story is the artwork. It’s bright and whimsical and really sets the mood as a teen story. Taelyr’s long teal hair flows across the page as she tries on look after fashionable look, trying to find her favorite style. There’s a whole sequence where Kat’s studied second reaction after seeing Taelyr transformed is to get excited about a makeup palette she normally doesn’t get to use, and Taelyr’s party look is off the charts amazing. Kat’s green hair and stylish butch looks provide an equally fun counterpoint, and together they are a riot of teenage love and self-expression across every page and a sharp contrast to the more plebian townsfolk that reject Taelyr. Plus, Taelyr’s other constant companion is a little monitoring robot that takes the appearance of a fluffy corgi that scampers around after her, adding a little extra dash of cuteness.

In conclusion, sometimes I feel like DC’s young adult graphic novels are a little heavy-handed and simplistic but Galaxy: The Prettiest Star is gorgeous and radiates much needed trans and queer coming-of-age energy. It’s a fun story that nonetheless has an out-sized emotional impact, and the artwork is strong and sets the whole tone of the narrative. If you’re looking for trans and queer comics, I would definitely add this to your list, especially for the young adult readers in your life. It is a great read, and one that I will definitely be revisiting when I need a fun boost.

Danika reviews Doughnuts and Doom by Balazs Lorinczi

the cover of Doughnuts and Doom

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

I love silly, fluffy sapphic graphic novels. I also seek out queer witchy books to read in October. So I thought this book was going to be a slam dunk! It’s about Margot, a witch who runs a potions business out of her kitchen and starts off the story failing her spell exam to get her license. In a mood, she goes to get a donut and then throws a temper tantrum at the person behind the desk, Elena, who would rather be working on her music career. Could Elena have had better customer service? Sure. But did she deserve having the donut shop crash down around her and getting cursed? No. Now Margot has to make it right

We’ve got sapphic witches, donuts, a snake familiar, and a make-or-break concert. We’ve got two queer women whose snark turns into flirting. We’ve got a romantic broom ride together. It should have been perfect!

But the truth is, I felt like this fell a little flat. It was a cute romcom, but it felt very short, like watching one episode of a TV show instead of the full story. While I generally love a fluffy comic, I just didn’t connect to this one.

Danika reviews Whisper Me a Love Song Vol. 1-4 by Eku Takeshima

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

I have a bit of a love/hate relationship with yuri manga. On the one hand, it’s usually adorable and addictive to read. On the other, I’m in my 30s, so schoolgirl love stories (especially ones that don’t actually seem to acknowledge being queer as an identity) are not something I seek out. I usually tend to look for yuri between adult characters, especially manga that uses words like queer, lesbian, bisexual, etc. Still, sometimes I make an exception, and Whisper Me a Love Song is one.

This is told in two perspective: Himari and Yori. Himari is a ridiculously cute first year high school student who sees Yori perform (as the lead singer in a band) and is instantly smitten. She finds Yori after the performance and tells her that she’s fallen in love at first sight. She sighs over Yori to her friends, admiring her and looking forward to any moment they can spend together. Yori tells her that she returns her feelings… only to find out that Himari doesn’t really understand romantic love, and she just meant that she likes and admires her.

The series follows Yori trying to win Himari over (not in a creepy way) and Himari trying to understand the difference between the adoration she’s had for other girls her whole life and romantic love. Yori tries to fit the cool upperclassman role as much as she can, but when we see from her perspective, we know how awkward and earnest she really is.

This is almost tooth-achingly sweet, especially Himari’s character, who is often gazing up at Yori with giant sparkling eyes. The concept of Himari trying to understand romantic love and growing into that aspect of herself is a good hook, though, just like I found the premise of How Do We Relationship? to be intriguing enough to pull me in. Although they don’t use any identity labels, they do talk about dating, kissing, the possibility of becoming girlfriends, etc. (Some yuri titles leave it much more grey about whether they’re actually queer.)

Further on in the series, there’s a little bit of tension added with outside love interests as well as some drama between friends and bands, but mostly this is an adorable read. I really liked the art, and it’s cute to see these two tiptoe into the world of romance. I am looking forward to continuing the series!

Danika reviews The Heartbreak Bakery by A.R. Capetta

The Heartbreak Bakery cover

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

This is where I use the wishy-washy definition of which books the Lesbrary covers (books about a main character who “doesn’t identify as a man and is at least some of the time attracted romantically and/or sexually to others who do not identify as a man”) so that I can talk about a book I love and think you will too, even though it’s not sapphic. This is a YA magical baking romance between an agender main character and a genderfluid love interest, which is just as good as it sounds.

This follows Syd, who works full time baking at the local queer bakery, The Proud Muffin. When Syd’s girlfriend breaks up with Syd seemingly out of nowhere, it’s crushing. Syd funnels that pain into baking, the same way Syd deals with everything. Except that it soon become apparent that everyone who eats Syd’s breakup brownies breaks up, including the owners of The Proud Muffin. Now Syd and Harley, the bakery delivery person, are on a mission to track down everyone who’s been a victim of broken-hearted brownies and find a way to fix it.

If that premise doesn’t grab you, we do not share the same taste in books! This delivered on exactly what I wanted from it–except that for some reason I thought this was an adult romance, and I’m still not quite sure why it is YA? Syd has special permission to have a full time job and complete high school classes, but I’m not sure why Syd wasn’t just out of high school for this story… but that’s a very minor complaint!

I really appreciated the reexamining of Syd and W’s relationship. At first, Syd is stunned by the “sudden” break up, but after some time to process it, realizes there were cracks in their years-long relationship for a while. W is the villain. I really enjoy Capetta’s writing, and part of that is the emotional complexity in their work. No one feels one-dimensional.

This book is so celebratory of queerness and queer community. People check Harley’s pin for their or his pronouns every day. Everyone is so accepting and kind, even in difficult moments. (And even if they express that a bit differently!) The bakery is almost entirely queer people, including an aro/ace character. There’s a polyamorous brunch! This is a bit of a spoiler, because it happens at the end, but I have to mention it any way: there’s a big gay Texas bake off! “Sure, but what makes this a bisexual babka?” It feels like a big queer hug. In fact, I was overcome with cute aggression after finishing it and had to suppress yelling and shoving it random passersby’s hands. “READ THIS! IT’S SO GOOD.”

The magic is a fabulist undercurrent, a metaphor made literal. Syd puts emotion in baking, whether intentional or not, and that’s received by the people eating it. It’s a nice way to think about sharing food. Another fun aspect was that there are recipes between chapters, both literal (like for the brownies) and more metaphorical. The fantasy aspect also means this book is part magical quest, part queer bakery romance.

I took this out from the library, but I gave it 5 stars and can’t wait to get my hands on my own copy for my collection. If you’re looking for a last-minute queer-affirming gift, this is a fantastic choice!

Shana reviews Didn’t Stay in Vegas by Chelsea M. Cameron

the cover of Didn't Stay In Vegas

Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

Didn’t Stay in Vegas is a lighthearted romantic comedy about two best friends who wake up after a wild night in Las Vegas, and discover that they’re married. To each other. 

Callyn’s life is a bit of a mess, but her best friend Emma is always there to bake her cookies and marathon TV shows.  So when Callyn has a terrible hangover and underwear full of glitter the morning after their mutual friend’s bachelorette party, she immediately looks for steady, reliable Emma—only to discover her in a similar state, holding a marriage certificate. Emma claims she doesn’t remember the wedding, but she also suggests they stay married for financial reasons that feel like a stretch. After a string of life setbacks, Calyyn ends up moving in with Emma, getting a puppy, and being extremely adorable while spending most of their time nesting together. Even clueless Callyn starts to wonder if Emma’s been in love with her all along. 

Didn’t Stay in Vegas is a low-conflict romance, perfect for when you want the book equivalent of a cup of sweet hot chocolate. As a reader, it was fairly obvious early on  that Emma is into Callyn, so most of the book is just watching Callyn slowly figure out her own feelings, while getting her life together along the way. I liked that Callyn and Emma are both comfortably queer before their marriage. This is a friends to lovers romance, not a coming out story. And accidentally falling in the love with your friend is certainly something queer women are good at! 

Of the two main characters, I found Emma’s kindness and competence more enjoyable than Callyn’s frenetic energy. But this story is told from Callyn’s point of view, so we can only guess at what Emma is feeling. This leads to many hilarious moments, because Callyn is incredibly slow about noticing that her BFF is definitely in love with her. Callyn’s denial persists even after they have sex! 

Still, I was left feeling like Emma’s character was a little flat, and we don’t really learn much about her outside of the relationship. Since Callyn feels younger and less comfortable in her skin, reading the story from her point of view sometimes made the relationship feel immature.

I did enjoy the theme of chosen family. Callyn and Emma’s big queer friend group felt like extras on L Word Generation Q—attractive, vaguely interesting people that I found myself more interested in than the main characters. 

Didn’t Stay in Vegas lacks the emotional substance of Cameron’s other romances, but it’s a frequently funny, comforting, easy read.

Shira Glassman reviews Wrong Number, Right Woman by Jae

Wrong Number, Right Woman by Jae

I’d read and enjoyed some fanfic pieces that use the trope of “romance that blossoms when a friendship starts after a wrong-number text responds to the sender,” including a cute “no powers” alternate-universe short with Steve and Bucky, so I was excited to hear that beloved lesfic author Jae had written a whole novel on this premise. Hers sounded even cooler than the other ones I’d read, because she also tossed in the trope of one of them being a “I thought I was straight until now!” So I was excited to read Wrong Number, Right Woman, and the book happily obliged my expectations.

Jae took full advantage of what I find most appealing about the wrong-number-text trope, namely, that without any of the weight of the other layers of human interaction–if you already know someone from work or because they’re a friend of a friend–you are starting from a completely blank slate. You’ve both been reduced to nothing beyond the content of your communication, the output of your brain, and that leads to an interesting type of correspondence. In some cases, you may not even know what the other looks like. Eliza, the “I thought I was straight, so what am I doing in this Jae novel?” character, thinks the other heroine Denny is a man at first, and you can tell there’s chemistry right off the bat. In other words, their souls already click through words before anything like “what you look like” or the social weight of newfound queerness shows up 15 minutes late with Starbucks.

This will be a good book, by the way, for those looking for a fluffy comfort read. Both heroines are charming with no sharp edges, Eliza works literally the coziest job I have ever read in one of these books (she works for an indie company that makes homemade BIRD TOYS, y’all), and both of them have close, affectionate relationships with family and friends. This is also a good book for those looking for representation for women who haven’t decided whether bi or lesbian fits them better. She has, in a lot of ways, the ideal coming out experience, with accepting and supportive family–except for one weird page with one sister, but it makes sense in context–and a trans lesbian bestie at her side. If this is something you want to witness, you will find it here. (Also, I relate ever so much to Eliza’s reaction to Denny’s breasts. Thank you for that. We can never get enough of women’s desire for other women presented as wholesome.)

I also liked the detail that, while Denny is not in touch with her parents, it’s because they kicked out her little sister for being pregnant 12 years ago, not because Denny likes girls. (However, that may be triggering for other readers, so I’m mentioning it up front. I also want to reassure other readers, with other triggers, that pregnancy is not a trope in this book. The “baby” is now a tween, having grown up raised by her mother and aunt, and there’s a moment you think the mom is pregnant again, but she’s not.) In any case, it was reassuring to me, because while queer conflict with parents is a very important theme and I am not at all advocating that it disappear from literature, it’s nice to be able to pick up something fluffy, too.

Denny and Eliza’s undeniable chemistry radiates off the page even when they’re just trying to get to know each other as friends without any other expectations on the table. They already feel like they’re dating when they meet up for the first time to go to the fair, which both of them notice, even though at this point both of them still think that Eliza is straight. It is so meant to be. And that, in my opinion, is what makes a romance novel worth reading–does the author make you want the characters to get together? Jae has succeeded. Their connection is magnetic, and very, very cute.

Shira Glassman is the author of fluffy contemporary and fantasy f/f fiction, including the superhero/damsel-in-distress romance Cinnamon Blade: Knife in Shining Armor which, like the book in this review, also features a love interest who isn’t sure whether she’s bi or lesbian.

Danika reviews Space Battle Lunchtime Volume 3 by Natalie Riess

Space Battle Lunchtime Vol 3Amazon Affiliate Link | Bookshop.org Affiliate Link

I adored the first two volumes of Space Battle Lunchtime. It’s an all-ages graphic novel of a cooking competition(!) in space(!!) with a cute F/F romance (!!!) What more could you want? The first two volumes felt like two halves of a whole story. It finished with a happily ever after that made me sigh contentedly when I closed it. I wanted more, sure, but it had wrapped up. I accepted that this was a precious gem of a self-contained two volume story.

And then! I randomly stumbled on a third volume! I didn’t know this was coming out! As someone who obsessively tracks new sapphic book releases, this was a shock to me. How could I have missed that this was getting a sequel at all, never mind one that was already out? I could hardly believe my luck.

This volume has everything I loved from the first two. There’s no baking competition this time–instead, Peony is baking for a fancy jubilee hosted by a space empress! It’s crucial that everything goes perfectly. Of course, that’s not what happens. In fact, the empress is poisoned, and now it’s a murder(-ish) mystery! This is a fun little puzzle set on a spaceship that is part plant.

I also really enjoyed Peony and Neptunia’s developing relationship. We get a glimpse into Neptunia’s past that explains why she’s so guarded and secretive. There is no drama here, though; they continue to be a happy, adorable couple.

If you are looking for a cute, cozy, comforting queer read, I can’t recommend Space Battle Lunchtime enough. Will this be the real final volume? I can’t find any information on there being a volume 4, but there was also 3 years between volumes 2 and 3, so that’s not saying much. Whether this is a charming epilogue to the original story or the beginning of an ongoing series, I am a big fan.

Shana reviews Who We Could be by Chelsea Cameron

Who We Could be by Chelsea Cameron

Who We Could Be is a fluffy, heartwarming romance about supposedly straight best friends who fall in love with each other. The story loosely reimagines two of my favorite characters, Anne Shirley and Diana Barry from Anne of Green Gables. I sometimes find coming out stories too predictable and trite. I loved this gooey, angst free story anyway, and recommend it for when you need an inclusive, low-conflict read.

Tessa is a quiet, nurturing, librarian who falls asleep most nights while giggling over the phone with her best friend Monty. She’s engaged to be married to a guy no one much likes, especially outspoken Monty. The two friends are fiercely and unapologetically each other’s most important person.

Monty works at a bookstore owned by her lesbian trans aunts, and is also engaged to her sweet friend Gilbert Gus, who she adores, but is more likely to play games with than kiss. When Tessa’s lackluster fiance cheats on her, Monty takes her on an alternate honeymoon. This leads to the two going on practice dates to help Tessa ease into dating again. Along the way these two figure out what everyone around them already knows: they’re perfect for one another.

Tessa and Monty have an intensely loving friendship, and watching them discover their romantic side left me squealing with joy. Their dynamic is a balm for every fan who sighed over two straight characters who clearly should be dating each other, whether that’s Rizzoli and Isles, or Diana and Anne.

Who We Could Be has an idyllic, fairy tale quality. It’s set in a progressive small New England town, and cocoons the characters within this supportive atmosphere. Instead of leaning into the drama of ended engagements and newfound sexuality, the story resolves potentially obstacles easily, letting Tessa and Monty’s playful relationship take center stage. I appreciated that the characters come to recognize their queer sexuality before falling in love with one another, and the role Monty’s aunts play in their drama-free coming out process.

Cameron specializes in stories about BFFs who fall in love, and after reading Who We Could Be, I devoured her backlist. This remains my favorite version of this trope. Highly recommended for fans of quiet romances.

Shana reviews Comet’s First Christmas by Delilah Night

Comet’s First Christmas by Delilah Night

I love sappy holiday movies, and Comet’s First Christmas nailed the sweet and silly tone of some of my favorites, glossing over any plot holes with Christmas magic.  It’s a sweet, earnest, PG-rated novella about a reindeer shifter who falls for an elf. The worldbuilding is excellent, but the storyline is unlikely to appeal to readers who aren’t die-hard fans of North American Christmas culture.

Claudia has never left the North Pole. She spends her days training to join the elite squad of flying reindeers who help Santa deliver gifts around the world. Did you know Santa’s reindeer are all queer women who can magically shift their form?  When a spot on the team unexpectedly opens up at the last minute, Claudia takes the title of Comet, and is assigned to the New York City office, where she’ll work with East Coast elves in the final few weeks before Christmas. Claudia has anxiety and is worried she won’t perform well. Luckily her Personal Assistant elf, Jillian, is smoking hot and supremely competent.

Jillian grew up in New York and prefers it to the formality of life in the North Pole, where the roles of reindeers, elves, and snowmen are tightly prescribed. Jillian’s willingness to think creatively comes in handy when secret Christmas haters hack the reindeers’ communication tech. Will solving this Christmas mystery together give Jillian and Claudia a chance to fall in love?

I found this to be a comforting read, the book equivalent to a mug of peppermint hot cocoa. Comet’s First Christmas is a smorgasbord of classic Christmas cultural references—gingerbread, ice skating, the Nutcracker ballet, decorated store windows, and Santa at Macy’s. Claudia’s anxiety and imposter syndrome made her very sympathetic, and I was cheering for her to see herself the way others clearly did.

I appreciated that unlike most Christmas romances, the worldbuilding wasn’t US-centric. Comet’s route stretches from Brazil to Canada, and Claudia spends a few memorable scenes eating her way through the Singapore office. There’s even a brief mention of the ethics of Western museums with stolen artifacts.

I didn’t enjoy the romance as much as the other story elements. Claudia falls for Jillian instantly, and basks in her beauty and nurturing spirit. But the book didn’t describe why Jillian would quickly fall for Claudia. The two are tongue-tied and awkward around one another, and their professional dynamic sometimes made it feel like Jillian was mothering Claudia. The two of them felt young, and the simplistic style of the book made the romance seem immature.

Part of the plot focuses on humans who have “lost their belief” in Christmas, with Claudia and Jillian trying to convince “nonbelievers.” I prefer secular Christmas romances, and while Comet’s First Christmas is never overtly religious, I could have done without this proselytizing. Most of the book focused on the collective action of many people working together to spread Christmas magic, so emphasizing the exclusivity of Christianity felt out of step. The mystery behind the plot to ruin Christmas is only partially resolved, so the ending wasn’t as satisfying as I’d hoped.

Shifter romances have a reputation for wild sex scenes, but I didn’t mind that this low-heat romance is sweet, rather than sexy. The camaraderie of Claudia’s fellow reindeers working to make the world a happier place, puts friendship and chosen family at the center of this fluffy queer novella.  Comet’s First Christmas is unapologetically and intensely Christmassy, which will either make readers devour it as quickly as I did, or want to run away.