This story deserves every accolade it received last year, and I can't believe I waited this long to try to solve the mystery of what happened at Camp Emerson and the Van Laar Preserve.
What seems like a straightforward mystery unfolds to become so much more. The story of two children, both missing, years apart, and both from the same family, is masterfully told from a variety of perspectives. Each chapter marks a specific moment in time for that specific person, and they get to weave the strands of their experience with all of the ones that follow.
The movement between the past and present is done so well. It's never confusing, and what can first appear to be a foray into one moment always returns dividends in later parts of the story. No detail is wasted, and everyone's perspective matters.
As the story unfurls, it becomes clear that this is more than a simple whodunit or family curse; this is a meticulous examination of privilege, class, gender, and expectation, as experienced by the characters who may not always realize which part they're playing.
Beyond all of that, this is beautiful language, a stunningly crafted world, and a story that I would recommend again and again.
My return to Cambric Creek was just as charming as the first time, with the twist of a non-human perspective. It was lovely to experience Violet and Rourke's relationship through his experience, but there were no real stakes since this was the same ground covered in MGMF. But it's still fun to spend a little time in that universe.
If you have ever had a variety of painful or difficult experiences occur in quick succession, then you will likely deeply identify with what Sadie refers to as her "very bad year." Losing her boyfriend, job, and apartment results in the loss of Sadie's sense of self: if the qualities that make her "her" are what led to these huge losses, then obviously she has to change those flaws to ensure that she never experiences that pain again. It's an intriguing premise, and one that I'll admit I would have considered during my own "very bad year" - if you had the power to go back in time and correct what you believe were your errors, would you?
As the story unfolds, Sadie is engaged in a constant dialog with herself. Every choice she makes is informed by the ones she made before, every statement she swallows is the result of her thinking she knows how those statements landed in the listener's ear. Sadie's problem is not understanding that there is more than one person impacted by each decision, and it's not always the person she expects.
I say all this to explain that this book can be so frustrating at times. As the reader, we have the view that Sadie doesn't. We can infer why it might be important that her New Year's kiss with Jacob, her brother's best friend, looms so large in her memory. We can understand that her best friend is listening to Sadie muzzle herself in every situation, and how that might impact their relationship. And because we have that knowledge, Sadie's continued lies to herself about how much she is fixing what she lost adds a layer of discomfort to the story. You know she can't get out of her own way, but what will it take for her to see the path? Why doesn't she realize that standing up for herself is the same as standing up for those around her? That her willingness to do so was a feature, not a bug?
It might sound like I didn't enjoy this, but that is far from true. The characters are well-formed, and people like Jacob, Sadie's brother, Kasumi, and the entire coffee shop staff/customer base are so delightful that you want to know them in real life.
I think the discomfort and frustration is from seeing a mirror that shows you your past self, and knowing, deep down, you'd be making the same mistakes.
This is a reasonably lighthearted, easy reading story about a great meet-cute that gets surprisingly deep. Daisy is equal parts frustrating and charming, evolving from pushover to someone with earned confidence over the course of the story. Charlie is charming and too-goo-to-be-true from the jump: attractive, friendly, seemingly selfless, very funny, and so kind that you know you're waiting for the other shoe to drop.
This was the type of story that has you reasonably sure that you know where it's going, but not in a way that distracts too much from the enjoyment of the experience. When you get to know Daisy's backstory and understand how it informs her relationship with her mother, it makes some of her actions much more understandable and takes some of the annoyance factor away.
I did like the fact that there was, to me, a non-judgmental examination of individual privilege. As each character began to recognize how their own experiences and related biases impacted their behavior, it allowed for an earned suspension of disbelief as to how the story resolved itself. Without that, I think I would have found the final chapters too pat, too predictable, and too easy. But by taking on the difficult questions, what I could see coming a mile away felt far more earned.
I was remiss in actually writing a review when I finished the book originally, so I thought I would rectify that since I revisited it via audiobook.
To start, I 100% want to vacation in Boneyard Key. I want cinnamon banana bread from Hallowed Grounds and I want fried chicken from The Haunt. If this were a real place, I know where I'd be jetting off to this spring.
I loved Cassie because I deeply connected with her on a variety of things: hazelnut lattes, cinnamon in banana bread, feeling friends move beyond you, reconciling a life without motherhood (whether desired or not), and the love of good Buffalo chicken tenders.
Nick...what can I say about Nick other than he sounds like the hot barista of my dreams? I enjoyed being able to follow his growth over the course of the story, and the way it helped deepen his connection with Cassie.
There's a slight drag in the middle of the book, but it's a fun way to spend some time whenever you're in the mood for ghosts and coffee.
I adored this book so much. The relationship between Nick and Andy is slow burn perfection, almost meditative in its deliberation.
Nick is gruff and seemingly older than his years. But as you learn about his history as a queer man growing up in the 50s, his affect makes perfect sense and adds layers to his characterization. In contrast, Andy seems sheltered, scattered, and younger than he is, but learning about his lifetime of rejection puts everything in perspective.
What I appreciated the most was the clear tension between the life that Nick and Andy deserve to live, openly and without fear, and the narrow box in which society expects them to exist. It forces the reader to examine whether we've moved as far beyond that restriction as we like to think, and I know I was disappointed with my conclusion.
This is an achingly beautiful love story about two souls finding their missing parts in one another. I can't wait to sit with it again and again.
I loved this book so much! Cin is the curvy, hilarious, strong, cheese-loving heroine of my dreams. Fallon is the hot dragon demon alpha daddy, prone to possessiveness but reasonably open to reason and logic from his partner.
The Cin/Fallon dynamic was so much fun. Any evil or darkness he brought was tempered by her humanity and care. They were strong where the other was weak, but Cin also had to make questionable choices along the path of their adventure.
I adored the merry band of misfits that joined Cin and Fallon, who were fleshed out enough that I can't wait to read their stories.
This is a gushing review because I honestly have no complaints. I laughed, I sighed, I worried, and I ultimately gave in to the joy that permeated every page.
I mean...it's right there in the title. This is a story about a group of abducted women whose captors drop them on a ice planet, where they encounter large blue aliens. A brief warning: There is a gang rape scene involving a minor character at the very beginning of the book that made it hard for me to want to continue. I'm thankful it wasn't more explicit than it was.
In some ways, the story of Georgie and Vektal is a standard damsel-in-distress tale. Georgie is easy to root for because she's really doing her best to save her fellow captives, and she's strong-willed and willing to do what's necessary to survive.
But to appreciate their story, you have to be willing to accept a few things about Vektal: possessiveness, fated mates, some dubcon in the beginning of their meet-up (although in all due credit, he does accept the need for consent as they learn to communicate), and breeding. Not my personal cup of tea, but I accepted him for what he was, much like Georgie did.
Overall, I'll probably read a couple more in the series, but I'm not in any hurry to do so.
I'm still swooning over Luna and Jean Pierre's love story. Luna was such a great character in Chef's Kiss, and it was wonderful to experience her story alongside her.
I adore TJ Alexander, and can't rave enough about the empathy they display for their characters. Everyone is treated with respect, decisions are not made lightly, and no jokes are at the expense of someone unless they're in on it as well.
The narrator for the audiobook was exceptional. I was swooning with Luna (against her better judgment) over Jean Pierre's accent. Nicky Endres breathed such life and personality into all the characters.
My single, solitary negative was that the story got a little long. But I would highly recommend it to anyone.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
2.75
I initially started out intrigued and entertained, but by the end, this was a war of attrition. The story of Tem, Caspen, and Leo got more and more complicated, the resolution got harder to accept, and the characters became more unlikeable. I feel like this could have used some heavy editing because the middle third dragged for a long time.
Spice level is off the charts, but it's the law of diminishing returns.