Tag Archives: poc

A Sapphic Gothic Dripping in Blood: House of Hunger by Alexis Henderson

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the cover of House of Hunger

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House of Hunger by Alexis Henderson is a gothic novel that follows Marion Shaw, a girl from the South slums of Prane who moves above her station when she becomes the newest bloodmaid for a countess in the North. Marion has lived alone with her sick brother Raul for years, and every day is more of the same: work for a woman who does not see her as a full person, argue with Raul about the expenses, watch as he destroys himself further with drugs, and never do anything new. But when she looks at the newspaper one day with a girl named Agnes who she won’t call her friend, she finds a peculiar post in the matrimony section calling for a bloodmaid, a girl who will venture North and sign an indentureship to bleed for whichever noble House claims her. Tired of her life and seeking a way out, Marion answers the posting and is taken to Countess Lisavet, the ailing head of the House of Hunger, by a Taster who swears Marion’s blood is some of the best and most unique he has ever tasted. Being a bloodmaid is not easy, as Marion quickly finds out. She is ranked Fifth out of the five who work for the House of Hunger, and the First Bloodmaid, the favorite, despises her upon sight. Things at the House of Hunger become more grim and more dire as the secrets of the House begin to unravel while Marion moves up the ranks and falls in love with Lisavet.

I love the world that Henderson pulls the reader into. The stark separation between the South and the North, along with the dreamy descriptions of the lives bloodmaids get to live after their years of giving themselves over like cattle to the nobles, brought the gothic setting to life and paved the way for a critique of class that felt natural and kept me reading. Henderson really leaned into the genre in this particular aspect, even going so far as to make Countess Lisavet fit the typical “dark, brooding love interest” role typically reserved for men. Lisavet makes requests of Marion and the other bloodmaids that prove she sees them as the other nobles see their bloodmaids: property with a pulse. Even if Lisavet does love Marion as she claims she does, they come from different worlds, and they are living together in Lisavet’s, in the world where Lisavet is the Countess and Marion’s purpose is to serve her and be loyal no matter what. As the book goes on, you start to see that Marion hasn’t given herself over to a grand new life; she has simply traded one type of servitude for another, more dangerous kind.

Spoilers below.

Something else that I think Henderson does particularly well is Raul’s character and how he haunts the narrative from the moment he steps foot in it. This was my favorite part of the entire story. Marion kills Raul partially by accident in order to go be a bloodmaid after he burns her ticket for the night train, and she is haunted by this decision for the entire book. Every time she thinks about Raul and his murder, some new, gory detail pops up describing his bloody eyes or the dent in his skull or the way he reached out for her as he lay dying. Raul tells her not to go, and Marion does anyway, at the cost of his life. When Marion realizes that the House of Hunger is not the place she thought it was, it’s too late to go back and change what she has done; it’s too late to admit to Raul that he was right. She gets high at one point during a game, and what does she hallucinate? Raul’s beaten-in face. Raul is dead almost the entire time, but he feels so present in every decision Marion makes. She may leave him behind, but he is part of her and will not leave her mind so easily.

That said, this is one of those books that I think could have benefited from being much longer. There are so many things that Henderson almost touches on  that we never get a real look at because we aren’t allowed to linger. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the story—I loved it so much that I think it would have been that much better if the reader had been given more room to breathe. When Marion notices that the other bloodmaids have aged more than they should have in the time that she’s known them, it’s at the end of the book when she already knows that Lisavet can feed off the life essence of someone and has already seen her do that to the Wretch who used to be Cecelia. This in particular fell flat for me because she already knew. The reader wasn’t allowed access to that information until Marion herself knew it to be true, and there was no real foreshadowing to it. I wish that Henderson had placed more hints along the way so I could have found out with Marion instead of being relegated to the sidelines going “What?” while Marion started listing details that she suddenly noticed. The mystery within the novel kind of fell apart as I got closer to the end, and I wish it hadn’t. It felt like Marion wasn’t solving anything; she was simply stumbling to conclusions that turned out to be true.

Spoilers over!

All in all, I enjoyed House of Hunger. It was a gothic story that gave me some of what I’ve been craving from my stories lately, and Henderson did a fantastic job getting me to care about Marion and the other bloodmaids. While there are things I think could have been expanded on, I finished the book in only a couple days, and it kept me enthralled the whole time.

Trigger warnings include: detailed gore, drug use, illness, death, blood-drinking, blood-letting, fratricide, and descriptions of dead/dying bodies.

When Duty and Love Conflict and Coincide: 3 Sapphic Bodyguard Romances

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There are few dynamics more swoon-worthy to me than a bodyguard romance: all of the pining of star-crossed lovers constantly at each other’s side, intense trust and protection, and often some sort of courtly intrigue. To make this sort of relationship work, the characters must be achingly careful and ultimately go through a drastic status quo change, which makes these stories compelling to me. Their genre can vary, so today, I’m doing a lightning round of reviews of three bodyguard romances: one sci-fi, one historical fantasy, and one contemporary.

Glorious Day by Skye Kilaen

Glorious Day cover

My most recent read was Skye Kilaen’s Glorious Day, a low heat sci-fi romance novella. Elsenna Hazen used to be the princess’s bodyguard, until two years ago, when they shared a kiss in the gardens. Since then, she has failed to forget her hopeless love, but she has focused on feeding information to a revolutionary group trying to topple the tyrannical king. Meanwhile, the princess’s life is being controlled by ableist caretakers. She must keep up the facade that she is helpless in order to survive her political situation, but Elsenna knows her better than that. When the princess reassigns her as her bodyguard, their romance rekindles while the revolution comes to a head.

This story is ultimately about being willing to fight—for one’s beliefs, one’s love, and one’s self. Due to her own role in a corrupt system, as well as the danger she has put herself in by betraying it, Elsenna considers her life and conscience forfeit. In order to not see her love as hopeless, she has to be able to imagine a future for herself. I enjoyed the arc for the princess (who is referred to with various titles and names over time, which had a significance I liked) and the role she ends up playing, as well as how this is gradually revealed through Elsenna’s perspective.

Considering this book was under 100 pages, I didn’t expect in-depth worldbuilding, and I liked the balance of plot and relationship development. That being said, though the writing was clear and polished, I would have appreciated more description. I often knew little about the character’s surroundings, which feels like a missed opportunity, given that this is set in a sci-fi monarchy featuring both high-tech equipment and extravagant ballrooms.

I recommend this book to those looking for a fast-paced read with a good balance of star-crossed romance and political maneuvering. 

You can find in-depth content warnings on the author’s website.

Daughter of Mystery by Heather Rose Jones

Daughter of Mystery cover

Earlier this year, I read Daughter of Mystery by Heather Rose Jones. This book takes place in an alternate regency setting with a magic system based in divine rituals. When Margarit Sovitre gains an unexpected inheritance, it includes a fortune but not a title, making her a target for the new baron. To remain safe, she has to rely on Barbara, a bodyguard included in the terms of the inheritance. They develop a slow burn romance while trying to navigate their new lives, which may be wrapped up in more layers of conspiracy than they realize.

Given that Barbara has been included in Margarit’s inheritance as if she were an object, there is obviously quite a large power differential that must be addressed, so the slow burn is appropriate as the characters have a lot to navigate. I appreciated the respect and care they showed for each other, and the way they were able to bond over their interests and abilities, as they both study the divine rituals despite others’ opposition. Both characters appealed to me for their wits, drive, and heart—and it’s hard to resist a lady with a sword.

I had been highly anticipating trying the Alpennia series, as I am a fan of unusual genre combinations, and the mix of historical fantasy, romance, and mystery that this promised seemed right up my alley. Unfortunately, I found myself wanting more of all of these elements. While I enjoyed the beginning and ending, the middle dragged a little for me because some of the plot elements promised in the official synopsis (re: royal conspiracies and the divine rituals) aren’t developed until late in the story. Instead, there is a lot of focus on the restrictions women faced in this time period, especially within the social politics of high society. This obviously isn’t a criticism, but rather a matter of personal expectations. If this sort of story appeals to you, and you want to read one with a sapphic romance and a touch of fantasy, I recommend this book. Personally, I was invested in enough characters, including the two who star in the second book, that I am interested in continuing in the series.

One of my main content warnings unfortunately comes with an additional caveat. There is an instance in this book of attempted sexual assault and incest that, while taken seriously in the moment, is brushed aside later to a degree that I found uncomfortable. I would have preferred this element to be followed up differently.

In addition to the already mentioned elements, this book contains brief instances of homophobia and violence.

How to Find a Princess by Alyssa Cole

the cover of How to Find a Princess

Though I read it in a past year, I can’t write about this trope without including one of my favorite contemporary romances, How to Find a Princess by Alyssa Cole. Though it is the second book in the Runaway Royals series, I understood and enjoyed it as a standalone. This is an Anastasia retelling about Makeda Hicks, whose life has been run by her mother’s obsession with the idea that Makeda is secretly the princess of a fictitious country. Makeda thus tries to avoid the whole business, even—especially—when Beznaria Chetchevaliere, an investigator from the World Federation of Monarchies, shows up to convince her to make the trek to Ibarania to prove she is the true heir. 

This book is, in a word, entertaining. I was drawn instantly to Bez, who subverts the concept of the stoic bodyguard by being eccentric, dramatic, and chaotic. Makeda is such a people pleaser that it ruined her latest relationship, but she finds herself bucking against Bez’s attempts to tell her how to live her life, managing to be just as stubborn as this whirlwind of a woman as she learns how to prioritize her own wants. Their push and pull as they grow to understand each other and become partners was the highlight of the book for me. I liked the emphasis on the idea that you can’t fix someone else; you can only try to be your best selves together, one step at a time. 

If you’re someone whose tastes lead more toward the fantastical but who is interested in trying more contemporary romance, I recommend this book, as its at times outright whacky circumstances, along with the bodyguard element, give it that edge of surreality. I also appreciated the inclusion of Bez’s neurodivergence and of sapphic Black love. 

I’ll continue to keep my eyes peeled for other bodyguard romances, and I hope that at least one of these three options suits everyone else who loves this trope.

Love, Friendship, and Hair Care: Wash Day Diaries by Jamila Rowser and Robyn Smith

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Wash Day Diaries cover

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In Wash Day Diaries, readers follow a group of four young Black women from the Bronx, getting a glimpse of their daily lives through their hair care routine and wash day experiences. Presented as five interconnected short story comics, we get to meet Kim, who can’t get her possessive ex-boyfriend to stop texting her and just wants him to leave her alone; Nisha, who finds her way into a sexy love triangle and doesn’t know who to pick or how to choose between the two men; Davene, who struggles with her mental health and doesn’t know how to reach out to her friends for help and support; and Cookie, who hasn’t seen her grandmother in a while due to their strained relationship, but agrees to help her take care of her hair regardless.

This is not a high stakes story, but Rowser and Smith are so incredibly talented, it nonetheless feels like a deeply significant reading experience. Their true talent lies in their ability to take this otherwise short, slice-of-life plot, and present so much backstory and character development in a way that is completely smooth and natural. By the end of it, even though you’ll have breezed through the whole graphic novel in one sitting, you’ll feel as though you have known these characters their whole lives.

The beauty of this story is in how healing it is: from the panels detailing each step of a character’s hair care routine, to the passages showcasing the ways in which said routine can provide a safe space for open communication and love, the entire novel feels like a warm hug. I’m not usually a fan of slice-of-life stories, especially when it only spans over a few days, because I often get the sense that I did not have the opportunity to truly connect with the characters. However, this is absolutely not the case here. Rowser and Smith laid out so many different types of love within these pages and managed to address incredibly complex and nuanced topics within such a limited space, it is a true testament to the quality of their craft.

I love each of these characters, but Davene and Cookie are tied for my favourites. Davene’s struggles with her mental health will feel deeply relatable to a lot of people, specifically when it comes to her executive dysfunction and her difficulty reaching out to those around her. Rowser and Smith also don’t try to resolve her issues in a perfect, little package by the end of the story: they take the time to recognize that as healing as it might be to spend time with a friend, your depression and anxiety will not magically resolve themselves. People will misunderstand what you’re going through, they won’t know how to discuss it with you without accidentally being invalidating, they might not even be aware that you’re struggling at all. The book recognizes and expresses these realities that are difficult to admit, but important to discuss—and shows us that although community and support won’t solve everything, they are nonetheless genuinely helpful.

Cookie is another favourite of mine, not only for her loving and electric personality, but also because her queerness and her strained relationship with her grandmother are so personal to me. Coming out to your family and having that conversation completely change your relationship with them, oftentimes for the worse, is sadly an all-too common experience for queer people. Being able to read Cookie’s story, and seeing that despite their fraught relationship, her and her grandmother managed to find the space and opportunity to talk, connect, and understand one another, once again, was very healing for me. Rowser and Smith, as always, presented the situation in a way that was very realistic and grounded, not trying to sell their audience some pipe dream or featuring a three step guaranteed process to getting your family to accept every facet of your queerness. The entire chapter details the complex and nuanced rollercoaster of emotions that Cookie experiences behind her otherwise outgoing and bubbly personality, making her an incredibly fleshed out and relatable character. I truly loved reading every single panel she was in.

As a whole, the novel does an impressive job of pretending to be a soft, easy, slice-of-slice story, while taking you through an emotional journey of love, connection, community, identity, happiness, friendship, and support. It’s a quick read, but I strongly recommend taking your time to appreciate every aspect of the book, including each character’s little quirks and habits, as well as the beautiful art style. Smith does a stunning job of making these characters pop on the page—the colours are eye-catching, each character’s design is so well executed, and the ways that the panels flow together brings the whole thing to life. It truly is a dynamic reading experience, and I guarantee that you will fall in love with at least one, if not all of these women.

Representation: Black main characters, sapphic Dominican main character, main character dealing with depression/mental health issues

Content warnings: homophobia, depression, mental illness, dementia, toxic relationship, stalking, sexual harassment

A Home Run Against Student Loans in Bunt! Striking Out on Financial Aid by Ngozi Ukazu & Mad Rupert

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the cover of Bunt!

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If you are like me, you are either anxiously awaiting news of your student loans being forgiven (if only) or desperately trying to not think about it at all (sorry). If only we could utilize our soft skills to vanquish them—if I could take out a percentage of my student loans for every book I read, I would be thriving. But thankfully for Molly Bauer, whose art school scholarship disappears at the start of her freshman year, she and nine other art students can receive a massive athletic scholarship if they win just one game. However, as Molly and her ragtag team of art compatriots struggle to learn the sport, they do learn how to work together on one of the most daunting assignments of all time: the dreaded group project.

I thoroughly enjoyed how goofy Bunt! is. It would have been so easy to sink into the scary situation Molly finds herself in, but Uzaku and Rupert refuse to let Molly (and the reader by extension) wallow. The illustration style and color palette add so much to the larger-than-life personalities of Molly and her friends, placing them on the top of my “fictional want to befriend” list. This team of queer weirdos galore make you want to cheer them on and on, even as the book is ending.

That being said, Bunt! does not shy away from harsh topics. The predatory nature of student loans and capitalism as a whole lurk almost constantly (even if it is hidden behind a cutesy shark with dollar-sign eyes), making Molly’s struggles even more relatable. Add to that the gentrification of Peachtree by PICA, the struggles of breaking free from family history as shown through Susanna and Ryan, and the stigma of dropping out of college in Ryan, and you have a book that would serve well into a discussion starter.

Comp titles include: the Scott Pilgrim series by Bryan Lee O’Malley, the Check Please! graphic novel duology by Ngozi Ukazu, or “Love and War #1” by Andrew Wheeler, Killian Ng, and Aditya Bidikar.

If you enjoy ragtag protagonists, college towns, sapphic romances, and saving a buck, you can order your copy of Bunt! Striking Out on Financial Aid through Bookshop, your local indie bookstore, or your library.

A Love Letter to Summer Camp: Wish You Weren’t Here by Erin Baldwin

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Wish You Weren't Here cover

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Enemies to lovers is a popular trope, but most people don’t have full-on nemeses in real life. So in contemporary settings, rivals to lovers is more common: the people you compete with, argue with, and hate. Wish You Weren’t Here presents a lower stakes version of even this: what if you fall in love with the girl from your class who annoys you? You’ve never had a full-on fight, but you both avoid each other and are snippy around each other. That’s the vibe of Juliette and Priya.

As you can imagine, this isn’t the same stakes as a typical fantasy novel’s enemies to lovers story, where you’re both trying to murder each other at every chance. At first, I thought it was too little conflict to be interesting, but as the story continued, I started to appreciate the dynamic. This isn’t the fine line between love and hate, kissing each other in a moment of passion. It’s the confusing moment of seeing someone in a different light—writing someone off and then seeing that they’re very different than you imagined them to be.

The other big factor in this teen sapphic romance is the setting. Wish You Weren’t Here is an unapologetic love letter to summer camp. It’s the only place Juliette feels she can entirely herself. Everywhere else, she’s too “intense.” Here, she’s celebrated for it. That’s why she has such a hard time when popular, rich girl Priya shows up to steal the spotlight: this is supposed to be her safe place. Priya gets everything else, so why does she get to take this from her?

At Fogridge Sleepaway Camp, lifelong friendships are forged. Campers see each other year after year and develop their own inside jokes based on shared history. Juliette adores this place and knows it inside and out; she clashes with a new counsellor partly because she can’t help but consider herself more of an expert and authority on camp. It’s interesting, because I went to summer camp every year, but this is a whole different vibe than my experience. For me, summer camp was a way to reinvent yourself, but it existed in a bubble—I pretty much never saw the same campers year to year. It’s interesting that in the author’s note, she says that she fell in love with summer camp as an adult counselor. Obviously, summer camp means different things to different people, and it was fun to get a glimpse of this version.

I wasn’t sold on this story in first half, partly because while Priya and Juliette bickered—mostly because of Juliette’s prickly personality—there wasn’t that much conflict overall. (Also, the scene with her and her six siblings stressed me out! No wonder she can’t wait to escape to summer camp.) The second half got me, though, because I thought the flirting and tension between them as their relationship shifted was so well done.

I ended up enjoying this more than I thought I would, and it was such a fun summer read. I read this partially in print and partly as an audiobook, and I recommend both. The short chapters—all of which have fun titles—make this a quick read, and I think anyone who has a soft spot for summer camp will get a dose of nostalgia. (Follow this up with That Summer Feeling by Bridget Morrissey if you start dreaming about adult summer camp!)

The Beauty and Bitterness of Unrequited Love: The Italy Letters by Vi Khi Nao

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The Italy Letters cover

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The Italy Letters by Vi Khi Nao (August 13, 2024) reads like bitter chocolate with rich undertones that will pique the acquired tastes of readers looking for poetic experimental fiction and stories about the mid-life crises of disillusioned literary fiction writers who are not cishet white Ivy Leaguing/New Yorker men. The bitterness comes from the raw, at times desperately pained but always poetic philosophizing of Nao’s narrator, who is struggling with simultaneous financial and emotional precarities that gives rise to frequent flights of morbidity and fantasy—both of which are channeled into the letters that make up this story. The object* of these letters? A straight married woman oceans away who our narrator seems to have developed unrequited intimacy as much out of need for some stability in her life as actual lust.

These heavy sentiments are punctuated by honey-decadent sentences that treat the English language like childhood Ello sets: bending, contorting and even breaking the set pieces in order to achieve a singular vision. Nao is deliberate and thoughtful in the way she writes her narrator’s frustration with a reality that is tired, faded, exhausted by lack of money, lack of mobility, the unfulfilled promises of an American Dream that is inextricable from the American army’s violent upheaval of the ground her mother was born on and later left, fueled by the same sense of absentia that even decades later drives serial addictions and suffuses her daughter’s longing letters.

I also appreciated how Nao de-romanticized the itinerant drifter artist archetype. If white boys who criss-crossed the country in the fifties while penning pieces that earned enough (give or take a couple of trust funds or working wives) to sustain their intoxicated shenanigans were the aspirational archetype that raised generations of equally entitled, misogynistic creators, Nao’s narrator, who is itinerant less out of a sense of thrill-seeking pastoralism and more because of the failures of late-stage capitalism, is more emblematic of the current cultural moment and the creators demanding their voices be heard within it. It is, therefore, also a book about what we owe to ourselves, about women who all too often live by what we feel we owe to others—to our lovers, our family, our bosses, the people whose money puts a roof over our head and food on the table. And it’s about how these patterns can repeat even in the lives of the queerest among us—how perhaps it is precisely those furthest on the margins that are most vulnerable to this sort of harm.

Readers will like this if they are looking for:

  • fiction that is feminist and frustrated with the state of things while still being dense enough to ruminate on a re-read.
  • prose that reads like poetry that reads like parts of Naomi Klein, Barbara Ehrenreich and Jasbir Puar’s nonfiction combined into a feeling body.
  • authors that use pop culture moments as springboards to discuss the deeper emotions and anxieties swirling in the zeitgeist.
  • stories about feeling isolated and lonely even when you’re around other people, and with a realistic denouement about starting to move in a more hopeful direction.
  • stories about toxic relationships where the protagonist eventually leaves them.
  • writing about the physical experience of living in a marginalized body. Nao’s writing is a particular standout for this.

Overall, this book won’t be for everyone. It’s one of those reads that’s got a lot of (as Sianne Ngai might put it) ugly feelings that make it hard to take in a single reading (unless, like me, you got to it at the tail end of a breakup that left you with the idea that the prefab middle-class HEA and all its attendant promises of security are moving further and further out of reach with each passing day). It’s also one of those books that ends on a hopeful note, but pulls you through a maelstrom of difficult feelings before doing so, and sometimes we’re a little too up close and personal with the feeling of precarity to want to read such a clear-eyed description of inhabiting it. But The Italy Letters (which you can preorder now) is definitely a book that, perhaps in another twenty or thirty or even ten years, will become part of the broader canon of queer fiction that so quintessentially captures what it was like to live through this.

*We only ever see her as filtered through these letters, this nebulous woman who we only know by nicknames and factoids, dialogue that is never quoted and therefore can be assumed to be cut and paraphrased through the narrator’s own lens.

Content warnings: suicidal Ideation, intimate partner violence, chronic illness, abusive relationships

A Paranormal Romance Novella with Teeth: A Wolf Steps in Blood by Tamara Jerée

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A Wolf Steps in Blood cover

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“We are the figures of each other’s fairytales made flesh.”
– A Wolf Steps in Blood, page 22

Last October, I reviewed Tamara Jerée’s debut novel, The Fall That Saved Us, a romance between a former demon hunter and a succubus. As that was a favorite of the year, I couldn’t wait until Halloween to read their latest paranormal romance, A Wolf Steps in Blood. 

Over a century ago, a witch’s blessing—seen by the protagonist as a curse—gave werewolves their power. That spell is dying with time, but Yasmine and her sister both have strong abilities despite their mother lacking the ability to shift. None of them have ever met a witch, until Kalta, a blood witch who is on the run from her coven, crashes into Yasmine’s life. Though Yasmine isn’t sure if she can trust Kalta, it becomes clear that Kalta is her fated mate. While it’s expected for wolves to have soulmates, she was never expecting hers to be a witch, prompting the idea that the burgeoning couple could usher in a new age for werewolves.

As a Black lesbian werewolf in a rural town, Yasmine has been ostracized on multiple levels. After watching how her sister has been treated, she has internalized the idea that she needs to minimize herself rather than embrace her instincts, to the extent that she treats her inner wolf as a separate entity to be resented and feared. Additionally, she struggles with an eating disorder, and she generally feels stuck in a life where she tries to live on the down low. 

Meeting Kalta is a catalyst for her to finally explore her identity and embrace her own hunger. For her part, Kalta struggles with how her coven has treated her and her brother. While this book is more focused on the wolves, the glimpses we got into witch society and how it has impacted Kalta, and her arc in relation to this and her grief, were some of my favorite parts of the book. I enjoyed her whimsical, impulsive attitude, which made her a fun foil for the more reserved protagonist. 

As with the author’s past work, the writing manages to be both concise and atmospheric, raw and sentimental, bloody and healing. The intensity suits a whirlwind paranormal romance, drawing the reader into the character’s emotions while allowing for more quiet, intimate moments as well. I also continue to appreciate the way the author writes about darker topics, with a focus on characters healing from trauma. Their romances are as much about the characters learning to care for themselves as each other, with these concepts very much intertwined. 

Despite knowing that this would be a novella with a fast burn fated mates romance, I still struggled a bit at the beginning with how fast the characters and relationship were introduced. Even a little bit more development in the beginning would have helped me get invested sooner in the characters and their bond. Additionally, some of the setup made me wonder how wide in scope the story would be, with the talk about the communal fate of werewolves; with shorter works, I generally anticipate a narrow scope. By the end, I was satisfied with where things ended up, and I also grew invested in the characters and story as it developed, especially in the second half. 

If the idea of a fast burn paranormal romance novella about feral women appeals to you, especially if you like themes of family, grief, and community, then I recommend this book. If you’re more interested in a longer novel with more breathing room, then I recommend checking out the The Fall That Saved Us first, and coming back to this one for more of Tamara Jerée’s writing. 

Content notes taken from the book: This book contains depictions of an eating disorder, vomiting (blood, food), self-harm (blood magic), gore, animal death, grief, and sexual content.

Cult Leader, Zealot, or Savior?: The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang

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the cover of The Genesis of Misery by Neon Yang

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Misery Nomaki (she/they) wields the power to manipulate holystone, an ability only saints or those void-touched have. She believes she is void mad, while the angel that guides her, Ruin, tells her she is the next Messiah. But regardless of what is the truth, Misery only knows they want to get out of their small town and search for freedom. The powers that be have other plans for them though. As she continues to use her wits to find a way out of her predicament, Misery is led down a path that may reveal the truth about her true identity as Messiah.

Yang’s world-building is overwhelming for the first few chapters. The story drops you right in the middle of the action with jargon that, while it stems from English, makes zero sense if you don’t already know this world. And presumably, you don’t know this world, because it’s the first in what may be meant to be a series. Once you pick up the lingo, though, things start to roll.

A theocratic government rules Misery’s world, but it is at war with the Heretics, those who believe in science over religion. Misery couldn’t care less about either school of thought. Having grown up poor in the forgotten outskirts of the empire trapped by the Faith, no matter what, she wants a place in the world for herself. But every move they make brings them closer to their destiny.

Part of Yang’s world-building includes the normalization of sharing one’s pronouns. It’s part of everyone’s profile when a character downloads the information constantly coming in through a chip in their brains. If someone’s pronouns are not known, it simply states unknown. None of this is made a big deal and neopronouns are quite common. This gender fluidity leads to a standard of queer relationships.

When the throne wants to come after Misery, Lady Lee Alodia Lightning, the empire’s princess, takes it upon herself to capture them. Their relationship starts with contention, to say the least, as Lady Lee wants to kill Misery. But as the story unfolds, their paths come closer together, leading to a romantic relationship. However, there isn’t enough time spent on the page showing just how this comes to happen. Their dynamic never breaches the surface, so it’s hard to believe them coming together.

The story takes an interesting trajectory, as Misery’s character arc doesn’t follow a typical hero’s journey. At least, not the one readers may expect. As she dives further into her lie of being a Messiah, events and signs point to it being true. They become a zealot, making it hard as a reader to continue having compassion for them. I didn’t come to hate Misery, but she started to make me uncomfortable.

The end leaves readers with more questions than answers. It certainly made me intrigued and wanting another book to continue the story.

Secrets, Sororities, and Sobriety: Thirsty by Jas Hammonds

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Thirsty cover

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What would you be willing to do if it meant finding your flock? Jas Hammonds explores this age-old question in their young adult novel Thirsty. Incoming college freshmen Blake Brenner has been with her girlfriend, Ella, since freshman year; they are voted “The Couple Most Likely To Still Be Together In Ten Years” and are desperately in love. The duo is planning to go to Jameswell University and to join the exclusive Serena Society, along with their best friend, Annetta. As the summer begins, so does the Serena Society’s pledging process, which includes a fair amount of hazing. Blake is determined to prove herself—unlike Ella, who is a legacy pledge, Blake is the first in her family to go to college and has no connections or money to boost her status. However, in proving herself, Blake begins to develop an unhealthy relationship with both alcohol and partying, and she must decide what parts of herself to keep and which ones to banish.

This may be stating the obvious, but Thirsty is such a hard book to read, especially if you are an alcoholic or have dealt with alcoholics previously. I did cry at least twice and had to take self-mandated breaks while reading, so be prepared to do the same. But as hard and scary as reading Thirsty was, it also is incredibly healing, powerful, and such an important book to have out there. Narratives about alcoholism in teens/new adults feel rare, and I think that if I had read this in my early 20s, this book would have helped me curb some bad habits and/or thought patterns that existed at the time. 

The characterization in Thirsty is realistic, to the point where I sometimes felt uncomfortable with how much I identified with some of the characters and their choices. Blake’s desires of solidarity and feelings of loneliness are heartbreaking to read, all while her euphoria acts as a sort of bandage to the reader’s emotions. I also heartily enjoyed Annetta’s role in Thirsty—in a book that is dominated by Blake’s relationship with Ella, Annetta’s scenes acted as a palate cleanser and a place to emotionally recuperate. Annetta’s relationship with Blake shows how friendships should be about support, even when it may be initially unwanted.

If you enjoy Elizabeth Acevedo, emotionally complex stories, and solidarity narratives, you can order your copy of Thirsty through Bookshop, your local indie bookstore, or your library.

Comp titles: Last Night I Sang to the Monster by Benjamin Alire Saenz, Ophelia After All by Racquel Marie, You’d Be Home Now by Kathleen Glasgow, and Full Disclosure by Camryn Garrett.

Content warnings include: alcoholism, hazing, accidentally outing, transphobia, intentional outing, cheating, vomiting, and vandalism.

Fake Honeymoon to Real Love: The Honeymoon Mix-up by Frankie Fyre

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The Honeymoon Mix-up by Frankie Fyre cover

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Before my summer break ended, I decided to read a romance that gives off tropical vacation vibes. For this, I chose The Honeymoon Mix-up by Frankie Fyre, a fake romance set on the fictional Sapphire Isle, a resort dedicated solely to sapphic women. The Honeymoon Mix-up tells the story of Basil Jones, a woman recently left at the altar by an ex-fiancée exasperated by Basil’s workaholic ways, and Caroline King, a private investigator hired to tail Basil. After sharing a one-night stand with Caroline that Basil hopes to put behind her forever, she decides to go on her honeymoon alone so that she can still close the wine deal her mom sent her there to complete. Upon finding out that the resort has a strict couples-only policy, she enlists Caroline as her fake wife. Eventually, though, lines become blurred and the women begin to wonder if there is something more between them. 

I will be honest, it took me a while to get into the book. I think my main hindrance was that I found Basil to be annoying. She’s bitter and unhealthily devoted to her work. In fact, there were parts where I totally understood why her ex-fiancée left her. Over time, though, Basil grew on me. I began to see how her overbearing and unrelenting mom drilled into her that all that matters is the family business. By about halfway through the novel, I found myself empathizing with Basil and rooting for her to find love and happiness with Caroline and escape her mother’s grasps.

The Honeymoon Mix-up is filled to the brim with plots and subplots. You have the main story of Basil and Caroline becoming more than fake newlyweds. Then, you have Basil’s issues with her mom, Basil’s attempt to seal a wine deal with the resort, a sapphic Olympics competition against one of Basil’s hated high school rivals, Caroline’s conflict between love and her job, and Caroline’s past relationship trauma. It was a lot to keep track of, and within the relatively short length of the book, it felt at times that none of the subplots got their adequate space. None of them were left unresolved and all had some impact on the finale, but at the same time, none of them hit their emotionally devastating potential, which is a shame. Also, because most of these subplots were Basil’s, it often felt like her story rather than both hers and Caroline’s. 

Despite these drawbacks, I still enjoyed The Honeymoon Mix-up. Basil and Caroline, once they get over their issues, have fantastic chemistry in and out of the bedroom. Watching them get over their issues and fall in love was delightful. As I said earlier, I liked seeing Basil’s development from workaholic controlled by her mother to someone willing and able to forge her own path. The book is also very funny, with a lot of the humor coming from Frankie Fyre’s writing and dialogue. 

For me, the biggest strength of The Honeymoon Mix-up is how it celebrates the diversity of the queer experience. Caroline is Black and comes from a polyamorous family. Sapphire Isle is a safe and welcoming place for sapphic couples to spend time together and find community. It is located in Thailand and is predominantly staffed by Asian women. The owners, Mae and Lynn, are an older mixed race lesbian couple who help Caroline and Basil by sharing their experiences earned with age. Between all of this and the little funny sapphic in-jokes, it felt like a true celebration of what makes queer life in general and sapphic life specifically so great. In addition, I loved Lynn and found her to be the true MVP of the story and possibly one of the best side characters I have read in sapphic literature. I would absolutely take a relationship course with her. 

So, despite some issues I had with it, I found The Honeymoon Mix-up an enjoyable fake relationship romance that would make an excellent beach read. Now, I just need to find the beach!