![]() While I have a hard time classifying “Sadie” as the thriller it’s listed as, it’s such a heart wrenching and beautifully told mystery that I’m going to mostly ignore the lack of “thriller” aspects. Sadie is a young woman on a crusade to find her sister’s killer, and perhaps heal a teeny tiny bit from her own horrific abuse (trigger warning for child sexual assault and pedophilia). Sadie has been through the worst life has to offer, but she lives for Mattie, her younger sister. Sadie develops the fierce maternal instincts she wishes she had in return from her own mother, who was absent at best due to her alcohol and drug addiction. So, when Mattie is brutally taken from Sadie, she believes there is nothing left of her; her heart, her soul, her LIFE, have been torn out and the only option she sees is to find the person responsible and give them a bit of an “eye for an eye” style justice. Sadie knows, when she starts out on this quest that, if she succeeds, she’ll never be the same, that the hunt for the truth and justice and retribution will change her forever. But she also knows success isn’t guaranteed. And while it took me a bit to appreciate the podcast style duel POV, I absolutely adored the way Sadie’s trauma and grief were presented (and yes, I know that sounds weird).
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![]() This book took me a minute to get really immersed into it. I blame that mainly on the start of the story focusing a lot on the High School social politics that Darius is dealing with. I have a hard time connecting to a lot of High School drama as an adult these days. But the voice with which the author uses to portray Darius, how Darius’ depression is always there, but not the loudest thing in the room, how the author portrayed the relationship between Darius and his dad, and how Darius struggles to fit into a heritage he always felt on the periphery from… now THAT really got to me. I probably should have been more mindful of what I was going through emotionally before picking up this book, because the end had me in tears. But that’s a good thing, I promise! ![]() 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… ![]() 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. |
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