The dark, coastal vibes, the Welsh inspired fairy tale, the feminist commentary (down with the patriarchy), and the mystery around “what is real? Am I going crazy?”, are all immaculate in “A Study of Drowning”. In this dark academia story, our main girl, Effy, is struggling with PTSD around a sexual assault while attending a prestigious architecture college. The only problem is she doesn’t want to be there, she’d rather be in the literature school but no women are permitted into the school of her dreams. When an opportunity that looks too good to be true pops up that allows her to design a home for her favorite, recently deceased, author, Effy jumps at the chance without looking. She’s so desperate to escape a place full of snide whispers, to prove that she’s not “crazy” to an emotionally abusive mother, that Effy doesn’t question why she was selected to design this house until it’s too late. Even writing that has me so in love with the concept of this story. And yet…

What happens when a murder occurs in the afterlife? That, in a very broad nutshell, is the premise of “Valhollywood” where an up-and-coming actor suddenly finds himself to be a resident of the afterlife, where the populace are the famous and infamous. The story is an homage to the authors love of Golden Era film wrapped up in a noir murder mystery with a very heavy sprinkling of spiritualism—maybe too much, but more on that in a second. Jake, still grappling with the fact that he’s dead and rubbing elbows with Humphrey Bogart, Frank Sinatra, and Ava Gardener, finds himself suddenly thrust in a whodunit murder mystery when one of Valhollywood’s residents actually dies ahead of fading as her fame dwindles to nothingness. Solving that murder and unraveling how it happened was where this novel truly shined! Unfortunately, the detour this book makes left something to be desired.

This was such a cozy little period piece fantasy! Most of my friends with similar reading tastes loved this book so I went in with high expectations. The book definitely delivered on most of what I was expecting and looking for, too! You have a socially awkward professor, Emily, who often gave me second hand embarrassment with just how easily she bungles social niceties. The over-the top, charming Wendell who is exceptionally lazy. And a world that is more akin to traditional fae folklore than what you typically see in most romantic fantasies nowadays which I adored! But the “romance” aspect is where this book fumbled a bit.

Much like the first book in the series, “Necromancing the Stone” is witty, snarky, and full of pop culture references that make me giggle. If there is a pun to be made, the author makes it with their whole chest and I cannot state enough how much I love that. For a book about a necromancer, this series never takes itself too seriously and ends with a surprisingly touching message about friendship and family (of the blood and found kind). The book series, I am happy to say, never strays into the overly goofy or campy areas either, despite the obvious fun the author had writing it. Sam is one of my favorite male YA heroes because he’s just so… normal. Even in this second book as Sam navigates the consequences following “Hold Me Closer Necromancer”, his newfound powers, and a house that lowkey tries to kill him, he never strays from who he is at his core: a good guy. He’s not a soft, sensitive poet, he’s not very suave, and often chooses flight rather than fight. But he’s sarcastic, nice, loyal, and tries to do better whenever he can. He’s genuinely a decent guy and I love how normal he’s portrayed, even with the whole necromancy bit.

I struggled with this review, no lie. Because “Iron Widow” is a vibe I love. You have this exciting sci-fi fantasy world with incredible mecha fights that, visually in my minds eye, are just incredible. I love visually exciting action and “Iron Widow” delivers on that front. But I wouldn’t call this book a feminist powerhouse that breaks the patriarchy. Or, I guess it does break the patriarchy through the easiest means necessary: annihilating everyone in the way until the only power left is Wu Zetian (their words, not mine). What this book is, is pure female rage. I love female rage. Punish the boys that hurt the girls, all day every day. But when a book is, supposedly, meant to be this strong female character that breaks a system that benefits from young girls’ ultimate sacrifice, Zetian doesn’t do any of that. Female rage cannot be the only personality trait for a main character, and yet, here we are.