This dystopian, post-apocalyptic version of Portland takes an interesting look at the soul and necromancers. In this world, the United States has split into individual city districts, each with their own governing body and with none really seeming to get along. How we got here isn’t really explained, but it’s hinted that it was a nuclear disaster of some sort as the world is plagued by mutants lurking outside of the city’s protective walls. With so much death so readily available, it was only a matter of time before someone figured out how to harness the soul’s energy before the raven’s (think of them as reapers) have a chance to move that soul and their energy into the afterlife. Enter Nyle: a raven drawn to Portland’s dead problem. An overabundance of fate, or coincidence, brings Nyle immediately to Cait, a necromancer who doesn’t know what she is—she’s not a mutant or genetically modified and yet is plagued by the dead—but she is exactly the person Nyle needs to free the dead from Portland. Much like the trapped souls in Portland, an overabundance of luck plagues “Grave Cold”.

It feels a bit weird to boil down this novella as a sapphic noir style Supernatural but, in a way, it is. You’ve got deals with demons, supernatural detectives and a secret order of human magi trying to keep them all in line. Not to mention the morally grey angels. So, if you’re familiar with Supernatural, you can see why that comes to mind. But where it diverges is in its discussion of queer relationships and the homophobia surrounding Chicago during this time along with the questionable “therapies” used when someone was outed. For such a quick novella, there was a lot to cover, including the bittersweet heartache that comes with unconditional love.

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.

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.

Seems like enemies-to-lovers is all the rage for most romances these days, and while it has never been a favorite of mine, I do want to read more of this trope to see if the problem I have is a me thing, or if the enemies-to-lovers’ books I have read simply haven’t done it for me. I’m sad to say that this book doesn’t get me closer to those answers. But, oddly, my issues with this steamy, sapphic enemies-to-lovers’ fantasy romance wasn’t the trope itself, but the world building. Set in a semi-urban fantasy, you have a kingdom torn in two (literally) where magic is determined by if a certain sentient house likes you enough to gift you magic. There’s a magic house for everything, and if you are gifted said magic, you’ll be given a tattoo so everyone knows you have Assassin guild magic, or mechanic magic, or rune magic, or herbal magic, or well, pretty much anything I guess because the world building never gets that defined. Everything felt a bit vague, and hurried, sacrificed mainly so we could be told more just how much our rivals turned enemies want to fight, and f*ck each other.