or, my new favorite book!
Click on the covers for more book detail and ordering information.
Kids:
Not for Kids:
Since you made it this far, here’s some free ebooks!
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Available July 6, 2021
Unless you’re a Book of the Month member, it was available as a June pick!
I have never been the biggest King Arthur fan. I love mythology, royalty, and palace intrigue, for sure, but there was always so much focus on the Knights of the Round Table and Arthur himself that the stories always fell a little short with me. Half Sick of Shadows has completely changed the way I look at the lore surrounding the Lady of the Lake and Arthur´s journey to the throne. In Half Sick of Shadows, Laura Sebastian tells the legend of Arthur´s rise to power, but through the lens of the women who made his ascension possible.
Haunted for most of her life by dreams of her own death, Lady Elaine was seen by many at court as a mad woman. Her overbearing and agoraphobic mother only amplified those feelings and made Elaine feel even more alone. When Morgana makes an appearance at court, Elaine finds herself drawn to her boldness fearlessness. After Morgana questions Elaine about her mysterious dreams, Elaine discovers that she is not mad, she is a powerful oracle in need of training and guidance.
With this new information in hand, Elaine finds herself on a magical adventure in Avalon with her new best friends Arthur, Morgana, Guinevere, and Lance. Idyllic days spent learning magic, romping through the woods, and taking part in wild bonfire parties. But the dreamlike days can´t last forever. Told through multiple timelines and Elaine´s mystical visions, the real story behind Arthur´s ascension and the powerful women who stood by his side for years, is told.
I absolutely loved Laura Sebastian´s writing. Sebastian makes you feel like you´re Elaine, writing in your journal or trusting your secrets to a best friend. Sebastian also gives us more than just a feminist retelling, she gives us an intimate look at the relationships between some of the most well known characters in literature. We know that Arthur will go on to greatness, but Half Sick of Shadows shows us the insecurities, the doubts, and the struggles that went in to that journey. Elaine faces even more pressure than Arthur. Every vision is a burden. She has seen how her friends die, how they betray one another, how they hurt, help, and love each other. Every vision leads Elaine needing to make an impossible decision between her friends and one of the greatest prophecies.
As Elaine, Morgana, and Gwen sacrifice their happiness over and over again to ensure Arthur´s rise to power, we see the toll those sacrifices take on them and their friendship. Over and over again, the women refer to their mission of ensuring Arthur´s success, that everything they are doing is for Arthur and Arthur must always come first. You can feel their love and dedication for him, but you can also feel their frustration of having to limit their power and desires in service to their mission. Seeing the way they weigh every decision, every calculation, every effect on their friendships and their lives really showed how vital they were to the success of Arthur and his Kingdom. It´s a really interesting take on the tale and made for a lovely reading experience.
Half Sick of Shadows is a beautiful, haunting tale of friendship, family, and the lengths we are willing to go to protect the ones we love. If you have any interest in King Arthur, definitely add this to your list. You will not be disappointed.
This was offered as an early release from Book of the Month in June. I personally love BOTM and the selection of the books that are offered every month. If youŕe wanting to try it yourself, you can use my link: https://www.mybotm.com/5f24d9c326b8?show_box=true and we´ll both win.
If you would like to add this amazing tale to your shelf, you can find ordering information here:
This post contains affiliate links and I earn from qualifying purchases.
I just noticed that I did the most embarrassing thing. I completely missed that I misspelled Saturday´s book Pug Actually, as Pub Actually. One would think I would notice. I´m going to blame my love for cozy pubs as the reason I completely missed my mistake. I apologize.
This week, we have some great new books coming out. See something interesting? Click on the cover for more detail and ordering information. As always, this post contains affiliate links I earn from qualifying purchases.
For the Kids:
For the Adults:
Freebies! These were all free on Kindle as of 6/29/21.
Welcome to my stop on the Pug Actually Blog Tour! I have a wonderfully funny and delightful rom-com starring one of my favorite dog breeds, the goofy and noble pug. But Doug is no ordinary pug. He is on a mission to help his human find the love of her life and nothing will get in his way!
Doug’s human, Julie, has been adrift since she lost her mom (which is strange, because she’s usually pretty good with directions). Doug just wants Julie to be happy, and he doesn’t think she’s going to get there while she’s seeing her married boss, Luke. What’s worse, she’s saying if things don’t work out with Luke, she might end up like her lonely cat-lady neighbor. Horrified by the prospect of a sad Julie and untrustworthy feline companion, Doug decides it’s time for an intervention.
Despite his short legs and some communication roadblocks, Doug sets out on a quirky, sweet, and hilarious mission to find his rescuer the love she deserves. Though he doesn’t totally understand the strangeness of human relationships, he knows he can’t give up on Julie - after all, being a rescue dog works both ways…
BookShop.org Harlequin Barnes & Noble Amazon Books-A-Million Powell’s
Read on for an excerpt of Pug Actually by Matt Dunn:
According to Luke, he’s “about to leave the office.”
Despite what he just said to whoever is on the receiving end of the furtive cell phone call he’s making, Luke’s actually sitting in his car right outside the house I share with my best friend Julie. Which proves he’s lying. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Julie hasn’t heard his latest lie, of course. Her hearing isn’t as good as mine. She has heard the car pull up, waved to him, acknowledged his “on the phone” mime through the window, and left her front door ajar so she can return to the particularly gripping part of EastEnders we’ve been watching, where a mean-looking bald gentleman has just instructed the pasty-looking character he’s been threatening to beat up that he “ain’t worth it.” An appraisal that—if it referred to Luke—Julie and I would have wildly differing opinions about.
I take the opportunity to sneak out through the open door, trot along the path, and sit just the other side of the garden gate, where I can eavesdrop on what’s sure to be the latest twist in a saga way more complicated than the television shenanigans in Albert Square.
“Sure,” Luke says, after a moment, “Chinese or pizza?” which makes my mouth water, especially when he adds, “Chinese and pizza it is.” Then I’m brought sharply back to reality, because at his, “Love you, too, sweetie,” I realize he’s talking to his wife, and remember that not only is he a liar, but he’s a philanderer as well.
Luke finishes the call and checks his hair in that reflective device stuck to the car windscreen that Julie only ever uses to help her apply her makeup when she’s driving, smells his breath in his cupped hand and peers up and down the street as if looking for someone. Then he climbs out of his car, walks a pace or two away from the curb, and swivels around quickly to click the vehicle shut with the remote, as if he’s firing a gun in the opening credits of a James Bond film.
With a frown, he walks back up to the driver’s door and wipes a barely-visible smudge from the paintwork, then he takes a step backward and admires the vehicle—one of those sporty-looking coupes that, mechanically, is the same as the “family” model. Style over substance, as Julie’s dad would no doubt point out. Therefore pretty much the kind of car you’d expect Luke to drive.
With a last check of his cell phone, he switches it off, slips it into his pocket, and strides confidently toward Julie’s gate, hesitating when he spots me waiting for him in the garden.
“Doug,” he says.
It’s an observation rather than a greeting, so I give him a look, reluctantly step to one side so he can get past, then tail him back toward the house, nipping in through the front door before him, just in case he tries to shut me outside.
“Sweetie?” he shouts, as he regards me warily, and it occurs to me I rarely hear him call her “Julie”—a sensible tactic if you’re seeing multiple women, I imagine.
“In here,” replies Julie, from the living room, and Luke strides along the hall, peering around the house like a potential burglar, though if I know him, there’s only one thing he’s interested in getting his hands on.
I follow him into where Julie’s sitting expectantly on the sofa, taking up a defensive position at her feet as she switches off the TV. This is worrying: EastEnders isn’t over yet, and under normal circumstances, even if the house were falling down, she’d probably try and hang around, dodging falling masonry, until the end credits were rolling. Then again, as Luke’s all-too-regular off-hours presence here often reminds me, he and Julie aren’t exactly “normal” circumstances.
“This is a pleasant surprise!”
“Couldn’t stay away.” Luke collapse-sits onto the sofa next to her, then hoists his feet up onto the coffee table as if he owns the place. “You know me.”
I exhale loudly as I take up a guard position beneath his legs: If she really knew Luke, I doubt she’d let him in the house, let alone on the sofa. It took me long enough before I was allowed to sit there.
“Can I get you anything?”
“Just this,” says Luke, leaning across to plant a wet one (as Julie’s dad describes the way I do it whenever anyone raises me to face level) on Julie’s lips, and I have to look away. I don’t know why, but I find this “kissing” thing Luke and Julie insist on doing unsettling—possibly because of the weird hum of pleasure he makes every time. “I was just passing. Realized how much I missed you.”
“Passing?” says Julie, dejectedly, then she does a double take, and a look flashes across Luke’s face, and Julie’s expression mirrors it. Then I realize why he’s come round, and it shocks me so much it’s all I can do not to let out a disgusted bark. From what I can work out given his earlier phone call, he’s going to have a “quickie” with Julie, then calmly pick up takeout and bring it home to his wife.
“Yeah.” Luke licks his lips, an action which makes me shudder. “I’m not interrupting any plans, am I?” he asks, though I’m pretty sure he already knows the answer to that question. Julie rarely has any plans. Mainly because—given Luke’s situation—she can’t make any.
“No, just…” Julie nods at the TV. “Priya’s going to be here in a bit. Game of Thrones is on.”
“Oh yes. The Dragon Lady.” He rolls his eyes, and I’m not sure whether he’s referring to a character from the program or Priya. Luke’s not her biggest fan. And the feeling is definitely mutual.
“I can call her,” says Julie, already reaching for her phone. “Tell her to come later. We can watch it on DVR.”
“Don’t worry. I can’t stay.”
“Oh.” The disappointment in Julie’s voice is so obvious, Luke can’t help but give a little victory smile.
“For long,” he adds, looking pointedly at his watch.
“Oh,” says Julie, again, followed by another, but this time, an I-get-it one, which makes me suspect she’s “up for it,” as I’m sure Luke would probably describe her. It’s at that moment I decide I can’t just stand idly by and let him get away with this. So as Julie shimmies across the sofa to straddle him, and Luke reaches up and starts unbuttoning her blouse, I squeeze myself out from underneath his still-outstretched legs, leap up onto the sofa, and force my way between the two of them.
“Doug!” Julie gives me a stern look. “Down!”
I’m wishing I could say the same thing to Luke, but before I can decide what my next move’s going to be, he picks me up—rather ungently, it has to be said—and sets me back on the floor.
“Yes Doug, down!” Luke sniffs his fingers, makes a face, then surreptitiously wipes his hands on a cushion, which irks me even more, particularly since I’ve already had my bath this month. “Now, where were we?” he says, reaching for Julie’s buttons a second time.
As he busies himself with the contents of her blouse, he simultaneously blocks my route back up onto the sofa with his legs, and I fear I might be stymied, until I remember a tactic that Eddie, the Jack Russell star of the reruns of Frasier Julie and I love watching, often uses. I dart under the coffee table, leap up onto the armchair opposite the sofa, position myself in Luke’s direct eye line, and fix him with my most disapproving stare. After a moment my strategy works, because he opens his eyes midkiss (which is even creepier than the noises he makes), catches sight of me over Julie’s shoulder, and breaks away from her.
“Something the matter?” asks Julie.
Luke glares back at me. “It’s Doug.”
“What about him?”
“He’s staring at me.”
“What?” Julie turns to look at me, so I hurriedly put on my best, most irresistible pug eyes, wrinkle my forehead to the maximum, then angle my head for good measure.
“He’s not staring. He’s a pug. That’s just how it appears.”
“It’s disconcerting.”
“Well, just shut your eyes.”
Julie leans down to kiss him again, and Luke does as instructed. But sure enough, a few seconds later, he half opens one of them, to find I’ve resumed my visual assault.
“He’s doing it again.”
“Luke…”
Luke wriggles out from underneath her, sits upright, and places a cushion in his lap. “I’m sorry. I just can’t. Not with him…”
Julie sighs, then she gets up from the sofa, picks me up and carries me through to the kitchen.
“Sorry, Doug,” she says, depositing me on the floor by my bowl, before tipping some food into it, hurrying back into the living room, and shutting the door behind her.
“Now, where were we?” I hear her say, perhaps a little impatiently, then everything goes quiet, so I pad over toward the door. It’s one of those opaque-paneled ones, so all I can see is the outline of the two of them cavorting.
I sit down and fix my gaze on my best guess of where Luke’s face is, and stare as hard as I can at him through the frosted glass. And it seems to work, as it’s only around thirty seconds before Julie says, “What now?”
“He’s still doing it.”
“Pardon?”
“Doug. Staring at me. Through the kitchen door.”
“What, with his X-ray vision?”
“You know what I mean.”
Julie sighs in a way that demonstrates that it’s evident she doesn’t. “What do you want me to do. Put him outside?”
“Would you?”
I whimper at the prospect so plaintively that it’s only a matter of seconds before Julie opens the kitchen door, picks me up, and carries me over to the armchair. Though my victory is fleeting, as she heads straight back to the sofa, and resumes her straddling of a somewhat disgruntled-looking Luke.
“Tell you what.” Julie walks her fingertips suggestively along the arm of the sofa. “Why don’t we take this into the bedroom?”
Luke frowns, perhaps wondering whether Julie’s suggesting some light furniture removal, then the penny evidently drops. “Good idea,” he says.
“Right. I’ll just nip into the bathroom, and you…” Julie nods in the general direction of the bedroom.
I sit there innocently as she jumps up from the sofa and heads off along the hall. But the moment she shuts the bathroom door behind her, I leap down from the chair, sprint out of the living room, and—almost losing it on the sharp corner thanks to the combination of my short legs and Julie’s polished wooden laminate flooring—get to the bedroom ahead of him. And I’m already sitting defiantly on Julie’s bed by the time Luke appears in the doorway.
“For fu…!”
He narrows his eyes at me, then glances at his watch again, perhaps working out just how late he can get away with arriving home by blaming it on the length of the wait for the takeout. Then—and admittedly it’s the one flaw in my plan—he raises both eyebrows in a gotcha way, and shuts the bedroom door, trapping me inside.
Hurriedly, I jump back down from the bed, run to the door, and place an ear against it. From what I can work out, Julie’s finished in the bathroom, and I hear Luke tell her that, actually, the sofa’s just fine with him. There’s a giggle (Julie), then the sound of a belt being undone, then silence, followed by some sounds that I’d rather not report. Aware that I’ve run out of options—and I’m not proud of myself—I begin to whine. And whine. Then I start to bark insistently, upping the volume every third-or-so bark, until finally there’s a frustrated-sounding “For crying out loud!” from Luke, quickly followed by footsteps, and a slightly-flushed-looking Julie opening the door.
“What’s the matter, Doug?” she says, as she picks me up and carries me back into the living room. “How did you get yourself shut in there?”
I glance pointedly over to where Luke is sitting on the sofa, adjusting his clothes while giving me what I believe is known as “the evil eye,” but Julie misses the inference.
Luke sighs resignedly, in the manner of someone who’s realized he’s not going to get what he wants. “Right. Well…” He glances at his watch a third time, then hauls himself reluctantly up from the sofa. “I ought to…”
“Don’t go.” Julie sets me gently back down on the floor, then takes a pace toward him. “We haven’t even…”
“Yes. Well. Whose fault is that?” huffs Luke.
He’s meant that it’s mine, but judging by the look on her face, Julie appears to have taken his last comment personally. “Sorry. No. You’re right,” she says, sulkily. “You get off home to your wife like a good boy!”
As Luke swallows loudly, I snort as incredulously as I can. There’s only one good boy here, and (spoiler alert) it’s me.
“Sweetie, don’t be like…”
Julie shrugs off his attempt at a hug, and I brace myself for the inevitable. They’ve had this conversation—or rather, argument—several times before, and each time Luke tells Julie he just can’t leave his wife yet, I sense a little something die inside her.
True to form, she’s got tears in her eyes, and though I’d like to rush over and comfort her, I stop myself. She needs to feel bad about Luke, and sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.
“Don’t ‘sweetie’ me!” she snaps. “You promised!”
“And I will.” Luke perches on the arm of the sofa. “I told you, now’s not the right time. I just need to get all my ducks in a row, and…” He fires off finger pistols in rapid succession, and I can’t help but snort again. “But I understand,” he continues. “If you can’t wait, then perhaps we ought to…”
“No, I didn’t mean…” Hurriedly, Julie takes his hand, as if she’s the one who should be apologizing. “I get that this is hard for you. Really, I do. But you can’t blame me for wanting us to be together?”
She smiles down at him, a pleading expression on her face, and Luke kisses the back of her hand, as if bestowing some kind of papal blessing. Then he stands up and sighs dramatically as he takes her in his arms. “It’s what I want too,” he says. “But try and look at things from my point of view. I just want to do right by everyone, you know? You, me, and Sarah…”
At the sound of Luke’s wife’s name, Julie winces, then she nods, though if you ask me, the only person Luke has ever intended to do right by is himself.
“Okay,” she says, reluctantly. “So I’ll see you on Monday?”
Luke looks shocked for a moment, as if there’s some important date he’s forgotten, then he lets out a short laugh. “You mean at work?”
Julie nods again, and Luke grins like someone who knows he’s still in the driving seat—and not just of the showy coupe parked outside. “Right,” he says, patting his pockets to locate his car keys, his mind probably already on which pizza topping he’s going to choose. “Well, say hi to Priya for me.”
“Sure,” says Julie, though all three of us know she won’t, unless she wants a lecture.
“I’ll see myself out,” Luke says, and even though that’s probably directed at me, I still make sure to escort him off the premises. I wouldn’t want him to take anything. Especially advantage of Julie.
Though my fear is, that’s exactly what he’s doing.
Excerpted from Pug Actually by Matt Dunn, Copyright © 2021 by Matthew Dunn. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
Matt Dunn's romantic comedy novels include The Ex-Boyfriend's Handbook (shortlisted for the Romantic Novel of the Year Award and the Melissa Nathan Award for Comedy Romance), A Day at the Office (an Amazon #1 bestseller across several categories), Thirteen Dates (shortlisted for the Romantic Comedy of the Year Award), and Kindle #1 Bestseller At The Wedding. He's also written about life and love for The Times, Guardian, Glamour, Cosmopolitan, Company, Elle, and The Sun.
Connect with the Author:
Twitter: @MattDunnWrites
Available Now
In The Woman They Could Not Silence, Kate Moore once again tackles an incredibly grim and complicated portion of our history in an accessible and compelling way. Thoroughly researched and skillfully crafted, Elizabeth Packard’s harrowing journey through the murky medical systems, ruled by a patronizing group of doctors, unfolds. Sent to an asylum by her overbearing and strict husband for merely speaking her opinion, Elizabeth Packard quickly discovered that the law was far from being on her side. Faced with her new reality, Elizabeth swiftly begins contacting close friends and collecting information to build the case of her sanity. But in an era where women were unable to own property, control their finances, or be placed in an asylum for simply reading novels, Elizabeth faced a monumental battle.
Kate Moore writes excellent narrative non-fiction and really brought Elizabeth’s story to life. Just as in her previous books, Moore really focused on the people and their humanity. While the situations these women were placed in were cruel and barbaric, Moore also placed emphasis on the women’s roles in society at the time and their lack of rights within the laws. At no point does Moore excuse anyone’s behavior, only placing the situations in context of the time period. While this heartbreaking and emotional story is well researched and well written, it did feel longer than necessary and the beginning of the book was much slower in pacing than the last half. Overall, Kate Moore has given us another important and emotionally moving look at the complicated history of medicine and mental health.
If you would like to add this powerful book to your collection, you can find ordering information here:
Thank you to Netgalley and Sourcebooks for the opportunity to read and review this title. All opinions and mistakes are my own.
This post contains affiliate links and I earn from qualifying purchases.
This weekend was wild! We had straight-line winds that caused some serious damage to our area. Luckily, no one was hurt but we did go three days without power. What do you do with no power to your house? You sit in your hammock and read a book. Here’s a round-up of today’s best new releases as well some freebies. Click on the covers for detail and ordering info.
For the Kids:
For the Adults:
How about some Freebies? These were all free from Amazon as of 6/22/21.
This post contains affiliate links and I earn a small commission on qualifying purchases.
Available 6/22/21
Shaheen and her father’s relationship has always been strained by his obsession with music. Moments spent together centered around new music her father had found or interesting, to him, musical trivia. Shaheen’s attempts to connect on other levels such as books, food, or just what’s going on in her life, haven’t landed and when her father goes missing, she blames an argument they shared on his absence. With her cousin Tannaz’s help, the two girls break into the local record store for clues on his disappearance. While they don’t find her father, the two do discover a magical jukebox that can transport you through time. Convinced that he is trapped in time, the two girls do everything they can to find Shaheen’s missing father and find themselves in the front row of history along the way.
I love Nidhi Chanani’s illustrations and her ability to find magic in everyday objects. Her other book, Pashmina, about a magical pashmina scarf that can transport people is one of my and my son’s favorites. In Jukebox, vinyl records become our vehicle for transporting through time, landing on important historical events when the records were created. Chanani does an excellent job of conveying the significance of the events without taking the reader out of the story. I really appreciated the way Tannaz coming out as bisexual to Shaheen was written. I think many kids will be able to relate to both Tannaz’s hesitancy and Shaheen’s reaction of dating is just gross!
Readers are sure to be captured by Chanani’s beautiful illustrations and will fall in love with her imaginative storytelling.
If you would like to add this marvelous book to your collection, you can find ordering information here:
Thank you to Netgalley and First Second for the opportunity to read and review this title. All opinions and mistakes are my own.
This post also contains affiliate links and I may earn from qualifying purchases.
Available Now
If you have ever found yourself wondering what is the best knife to hide in a corset or the most effective poison to administer to a traveling dignitary during a seven course meal, then Reader Friends, do I have the book for you. While The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels is a fabulous romp full of humor and adventure, it also serves as a guide for those wondering how to be the most civilized and proper murderer and thief. For example, a pirate should always make sure to leave the house equipped with a hat, parasol and gloves to ensure that they do not succumb to The Great Peril. The Great Peril of freckles, that is.
It just isn’t done.
When a washed up bottle leads to the discovery of a spell that can move objects, no matter the size or weight, a former book club became the grand Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels. The Wisteria Society takes their pirating extremely seriously and takes great pains to raise their daughters as proper Lady Pirates. One such young lady, Cecilia Bassingthwaite has been eagerly, but not too eagerly, awaiting her formal induction to the Society. Having learned how to kill with a teaspoon, steer a flying house and always pour the tea before the milk, she is ready to join the ranks of this illustrious society. However, someone is trying to assassinate her, and not in any type of clever way, and between fending off attempts of murder and locating a new novel, there just hasn’t been the time.
When the members of the Society are kidnapped, Cecilia must use her wits and the help of an unlikely ally, whose identity seems to change more often than his waistcoat, to save her aunt and the other Society members.
I have never been more thrilled to find out a book is the first in a series. The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels is one of the most enjoyable reading experiences I’ve had in a long time. It’s incredibly funny and thoroughly enjoys mocking it’s own genre, while at the same time, is a love letter to historical romance. It is a wonderfully madcap steampunk adventure filled with magical elements that shows not only the strength of women, but the power they hold when they come together.
Thoroughly entertaining, The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels is the fantastical romance of the summer.
Don’t believe me? You should. I would never lie to you. The lovely folks at Berkley have sent an excerpt to share with you and I can’t wait to hear everyone’s thoughts.
Enjoy!
THE WISTERIA SOCIETY OF LADY SCOUNDRELS by India Holton
Berkley Trade Paperback Original | On Sale: June 15th, 2021
Excerpt
There was no possibility of walking to the library that day. Morning rain had blanched the air, and Miss Darlington feared that if Cecilia ventured out she would develop a cough and be dead within the week. Therefore Cecilia was at home, sitting with her aunt in a room ten degrees colder than the streets of London, and reading aloud The Song of Hiawatha by “that American rogue, Mr. Longfellow,” when the strange gentleman knocked at their door.
As the sound barged through the house, interrupting Cecilia’s recitation mid-¬rhyme, she looked inquiringly at her aunt. But Miss Darlington’s own gaze went to the mantel clock, which was ticking sedately ¬toward a quarter to one. The old lady frowned.
“It is an abomination the way people these days knock at any wild, unseemly hour,” she said in much the same tone the prime minister had used in Parliament recently to decry the London rioters. “I do declare—¬!”
Cecilia waited, but Miss Darlington’s only declaration came in the form of sipping her tea pointedly, by which Cecilia understood that the abominable caller was to be ignored. She returned to Hiawatha and had just begun proceeding “¬toward the land of the Pearl-¬Feather” when the knocking came again with increased force, silencing her and causing Miss Darlington to set her teacup into its saucer with a clink. Tea splashed, and Cecilia hastily laid down the poetry book before things ¬¬really got out of hand.
“I shall see who it is,” she said, smoothing her dress as she rose and touching the red-¬gold hair at her temples, although there was no crease in the muslin nor a single strand out of place in her coiffure.
“Do be careful, dear,” Miss Darlington admonished. “Anyone attempting to visit at this time of day is obviously some kind of hooligan.”
“Fear not, Aunty.” Cecilia took up a bone-¬handled letter opener from the small table beside her chair. “They will not trouble me.”
Miss Darlington harrumphed. “We are buying no subscriptions today,” she called out as Cecilia left the room.
In fact they had never bought subscriptions, so this was an unnecessary injunction, although typical of Miss Darlington, who persisted in seeing her ward as the reckless tomboy who had entered her care ten years before: prone to climbing trees, fashioning cloaks from tablecloths, and making unauthorized doorstep purchases whenever the fancy took her. But a decade’s proper education had wrought wonders, and now Cecilia walked the hall quite calmly, her French heels tapping against the polished marble floor, her intentions aimed in no way ¬toward the taking of a subscription. She opened the door.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Good afternoon,” said the man on the step. “May I interest you in a brochure on the plight of the endangered North Atlantic auk?”
Cecilia blinked from his pleasant smile to the brochure he was holding out in a black-¬gloved hand. She noticed at once the scandalous lack of hat upon his blond hair and the embroidery trimming his black frock coat. He wore neither sideburns nor mustache, his boots were tall and buckled, and a silver hoop hung from one ear. She looked again at his smile, which quirked in response.
“No,” she said, and closed the door.
And bolted it.
Ned remained for a moment longer with the brochure extended as his brain waited for his body to catch up with events. He considered what he had seen of the woman who had stood so briefly in the shadows of the doorway, but he could not recall the exact color of the sash that waisted her soft white dress, nor whether it had been pearls or stars in her hair, nor even how deeply winter dreamed in her lovely eyes. He held only a general impression of “beauty so rare and face so fair”—¬and implacability so terrifying in such a young woman.
And then his body made pace, and he grinned.
Miss Darlington was pouring herself another cup of tea when Cecilia returned to the parlor. “Who was it?” she asked without looking up.
“A pirate, I believe,” Cecilia said as she sat and, taking the little book of poetry, began sliding a finger down a page to relocate the line at which she’d been interrupted.
Miss Darlington set the teapot down. With a delicate pair of tongs fashioned like a sea monster, she began loading sugar cubes into her cup. “What made you think that?”
Cecilia was quiet a moment as she recollected the man. He had been handsome in a rather dangerous way, despite the ridiculous coat. A light in his eyes had suggested he’d known his brochure would not fool her, but he’d entertained himself with the pose anyway. She predicted his hair would fall over his brow if a breeze went through it, and that the slight bulge in his trousers had been in case she was not happy to see him—¬a dagger, or perhaps a gun.
“Well?” her aunt prompted, and Cecilia blinked herself back into focus.
“He had a tattoo of an anchor on his wrist,” she said. “Part of it was visible from beneath his sleeve. But he did not offer me a secret handshake, nor invite himself in for tea, as anyone of decent piratic society would have done, so I took him for a rogue and shut him out.”
“A rogue pirate! At our door!” Miss Darlington made a small, disapproving noise behind pursed lips. “How reprehensible. Think of the germs he might have had. I wonder what he was after.”
Cecilia shrugged. Had Hiawatha confronted the magician yet? She could not remember. Her finger, three-¬quarters of the way down the page, moved up again. “The Scope diamond, perhaps,” she said. “Or Lady Askew’s necklace.”
Miss Darlington clanked a teaspoon around her cup in a manner that made Cecilia wince. “Imagine if you had been out as you planned, Cecilia dear. What would I have done, had he broken in?”
“Shot him?” Cecilia suggested.
Miss Dar¬ling¬ton arched two vehemently plucked eyebrows ¬toward the ringlets on her brow. “Good heavens, child, what do you take me for, a maniac? Think of the damage a ricocheting bullet would do in this room.”
“Stabbed him, then?”
“And get blood all over the rug? It’s a sixteenth-¬century Persian antique, you know, part of the royal collection. It took a great deal of effort to acquire.”
“Steal,” Cecilia murmured.
“Obtain by private means.”
“Well,” Cecilia said, abandoning a losing battle in favor of the original topic of conversation. “It was indeed fortunate I was here. ‘The level moon stared at him—¬’ ”
“The moon? Is it up already?” Miss Darlington glared at the wall as if she might see through its swarm of framed pictures, its wallpaper and wood, to the celestial orb beyond, and therefore convey her disgust at its diurnal shenanigans.
“No, it stared at Hiawatha,” Cecilia explained. “In the poem.”
“Oh. Carry on, then.”
“ ‘In his face stared pale and haggard—¬’ ”
“Repetitive fellow, isn’t he?”
“Poets do tend to—¬”
Miss Darlington waved a hand irritably. “I don’t mean the poet, girl. The pirate. Look, he’s now trying to climb in the window.”
Thank you to Berkley and Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review this title. All opinions and mistakes are my own. This post may also contain affiliate links and I earn from qualifying purchases.
It might be a light week but have no fear, there are some great books out this week. My favorite is the Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels that is an absolutely delightful romp that will keep you giggling from start to finish. Click on the covers for more information and ways to order.
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In the latest installment of space drama set in the Galactic Commons, our characters spend more time on land than in space. In a refreshing take on space-based science fiction, we get a glimpse into the lives of the travelers who make the Five-Hop, One-Stop the most delightful and inclusive travel rest stop in the galaxy. Ouloo and her teenager do their very best to make guests of all species and shapes as comfortable as they can while they wait for access to the wormholes that connect the different worlds in the Galactic Commons.
When an incident causes a catastrophic communications failure, the guests at the Five-Hop, One-Hop, as well as everyone on the planet are stranded until further notice. During their impromptu lay-over, the various guests of Ouloo’s travel stop do what they can to minimize the stress of the travel delays that while inconvenient for some, could be life-changing for others. As the guests spend more and more time together, they discover that with all of their differences: political, physical, spiritual, and ethical; they have more in common than they ever could have imagined.
I just love this series. It’s so imaginative and hopeful with an emphasis on characters that don’t default to human. In The Galaxy, and the Ground Within, we are introduced to the Laru Ouloo and Tupo who have four paws, long necks, and choose their gender after adolescence. In my mind, Tupo was always the little Llama from the Anne Dewdney series…I’m sure that’s wrong but xe was such a grumpy teenager that it seemed fitting.
There is also the first methane-based life form, Speaker, that I have read and it was fascinating how much detail went into allowing Speaker to interact with the other guests and the obstacles that she had to overcome to do so. There is a scene, not a spoiler I promise, where someone brings up food around Speaker. When Speaker questions the guest as to why Speaker never eats around them, they assume it’s the ingredients. Nearly all the guests haven’t considered that Speaker would die if exposed to the air that they all rely on for life. Speaker spends her time on the planet in a type of robotic space suit that allows her to breathe and move, but no one takes into account if she’s every comfortable or if they could arrange for food to be brought to her so she can participate fully in the spontaneous parties that Ouloo keeps arranging.
Becky Chambers gave a really interesting interview on Imaginary Worlds, an excellent nerdy podcast, about how she developed her characters and the attention to detail that is needed to create non-oxygen breathing humanoids. While the characters in The Galaxy, and the Ground Within are some of the most unique and otherworldly that I’ve read, the issues discussed amongst them such as gender, politics, families, and personal choice are incredibly familiar.
My favorite scene in the book involves Speaker and Pei, two individuals who have incredibly different views on a long-running war and have to work hard to maintain civility when around each other. When Pei realizes that she has a choice to make that is loaded with personal, political, and cultural significance, Speaker quite calmly explains that not wanting to do something is always a valid decision. We can always choose to not do something simply because we don’t want to. It’s a short but incredibly powerful conversation between the two and the fact that two would be enemies in any other situation carries so much weight. Chambers writes it beautifully and it’s one of those scenes that will stay with me for a long time.
Unfortunately, this is the last book the Wayfarers series. While I’m always sad when a series ends, this is one that can be re-read over and over again, each time coming away with something new. Also, I can’t wait to see what Chambers brings us next.
If you would like to dive into this imaginative and diverse world, you can find ordering information here:
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One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston
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This is such a fun and sweet romance! McQuiston has this gift of taking an imaginative and wild concept and making it feel realistic and relatable. Intent on taking control of her life, August Landry moves to New York City, enrolls in college, finds an eclectic group of roommates, lands a job, and falls in love with a girl on the subway. Seems like everyone’s fantasy, right? But August falls in love with Jane Su, a young woman who is fascinating, beautiful, smart, kind, and seems to know everyone. She also seems to always be on the train. As August falls more and more in love with the punk rock loving Jane, she also discovers that Jane doesn’t just seem to love a different time, she is literally from another time. Jane Su went missing 45 years ago and her connections to August’s life run far deeper than a school girl crush.
As the two discover more about Jane’s past and what may have trapped her on the train, August and her incredible group of new friends do everything they can to save Jane from living on the train for eternity.
I am a true sucker for a found family and August definitely won the lottery with her amazing roommates. Niko, bartender by day and part-time psychic, knew August would be a great fit through a handshake. Myla, artist and engineer, instantly goes out of her way to make August feel at home, but you also learn that she is always the warmest and kindest person in the room. Wes, former trust-fund baby now cut off from his family, is madly in love with the drag queen next door and has an adorable dog Noodles. The four roomies are instantly inseparable best friends and their bond carries over to saving Jane, and August, from a devastating fate. I loved that August was able to find this close connection to such an amazing group after a childhood spent with just her mother. We quickly discover that there is more to her and her mother’s relationship than a love of true crime and the quest to find her missing uncle, an uncle that went missing before August was born. When the truth comes out about why August and her mother were such a tight team, August needs her new friends to fall back on for support.
Also, there’s subway sex. Friends, that’s right, subway sex and it’s beyond hot!
Full of heart, hope, and witty banter, One Last Stop, is a smart and hilarious story of otherworldly love that transcends time.
If you want to add this lovely love story to your shelf, you can find ordering information here:
Thank you so much to Netgalley and St. Martin’s Press for the opportunity to read and review this title. The pleasure, as well as opinions and mistakes, was all mine.
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Some Freebies! These were all free as of 6/8.
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This cover is so cute!
Readers, this book is so much fun! It’s a super light and funny rom-com that will be a perfect book for a day at the beach or reading in the park. I found myself laughing out loud and the banter between characters is *chef’s kiss*!
Kara is a romance writer on a strict deadline for her next book. Frustrated by writer’s block, Kara is pouring her focus into being the best maid of honor her best friend could ask for. At the pre-wedding party, Kara runs into her college ex Ryan, the man who broke her heart and inspired her career as a romance novelist. Of course, Ryan just happens to be the best friend of the groom, a fact that no one knew about until that night. And wouldn’t you know it, fate keeps pushing Kara and Ryan together in unexpected ways, causing the two to rehash their past and try to move on as friends for the sake of the wedding.
And guess what? Sparks fly and Kara is suddenly inspired to write her novel! That’s right, Ryan is the breakthrough that Kara needed to get her novel done on time and before her long awaited trip to Italy. But how can a man who has so thoroughly broken her heart inspire such a steamy historical romance novel? How can the two maintain a civil relationship while also spending so much time together for the wedding? Why is he still so handsome and funny? Can you love a man’s dog more than him?
That’s right, there’s not just a complicated and super hot romance developing between Kara and Ryan. There’s also an adorable and loveable pooch who just wants to sleep on your bathroom floor and listen to Celine Dion.
I loved this book! It’s such a fun and light read that was entertaining from start to finish. The chemistry between Kara and Ryan was electric and their banter was beyond anything I’ve read before. As a booklover, I loved how much Kara loved her books and was completely unapologetic about her love of romance novels. Duke, our loveable goofball pooch, was a delight in this book. It’s quite possible that I loved Duke more than Ryan and I don’t feel bad about it at all. The final conflict in this book was such that I didn’t know how the author was going to be able to bring them back together but she really pulled it off. This is a great second-chance romance and I couldn’t recommend it more!
Interested in owning a copy for yourself? You can find ordering information here:
Thanks to Netgalley and the Publisher for the opportunity to read and review this title. All opinions and mistakes are definitely my own.
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Content warnings for: child death, harm to children, murder
Scorpion is a fast-paced, futuristic cat-and-mouse thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat. After a horrific accident takes her young daughter’s life and her marriage dissolves, Quinn Mitchell throws herself into the investigation of a serial killer who is always one step ahead. Leaving behind a bizarre set of clues, the killer is causing panic within the CIA as he begins choosing younger and younger victims.
As Quinn gets closer to finding out the identity of the murderer, she also becomes closer to the mysterious Epoch Index, a coded message discovered by scientists that is suspected to come from the future. Searching for the serial killer places Quinn’s life in the hands of individuals she is unsure she can trust, and will create loyalties that no one saw coming.
I thoroughly enjoyed this novel and found the entire premise fascinating. The many layers of storytelling, the murders, the Epoch Index, Quinn’s grief and heartbreak, made for a complex and compelling story. There is a definite sci-fi edge that adds another layer of depth to this already complicated, globe-spanning mystery.
Quinn Mitchell is a very relatable character with her difficulty in overcoming trauma and trying to find a balance in her new way of life. Working for the CIA and tracking down a deadly serial killer is an already difficult and demanding job. How do you stay focused when you’re dealing with the death of your only child and the dissolution of your marriage? How do you conduct a criminal investigation when you doubt your ability to complete the job and every day that you haven’t caught the killer someone else will die? Having these layers to her character was refreshing and definitely enhanced my enjoyment of the story.
If you like Black Crouch or Dean Koontz, this will be right up your alley. Interested in getting a copy for yourself? You can find ordering information here:
Thank you to Netgalley for the opportunity to read and review this title. All opinions and mistakes are my own.
This post contains affiliate links which means I earn a small commission if you purchase through them.
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And, some freebies! These were all free as of 6/1.
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He wakes up on a deserted beach in Maryland, wearing only swim trunks and a gash on his head. He can’t remember who he is. Everything—his identity, his life, his loved ones—has been replaced by a dizzying fog of uncertainty. But returning to his Maine hometown in search of the truth raises more questions than answers.
Lily Reid thinks she knows her boyfriend, Jack. Until he goes missing one night, and her frantic search reveals that he’s been lying to her since they met, desperate to escape a dark past he’d purposely left behind.
Maya Scott has been trying to find her estranged stepbrother, Asher, since he disappeared without a trace. Having him back, missing memory and all, feels like a miracle. But with a mutual history full of devastating secrets, how far will Maya go to ensure she alone takes them to the grave?
I am so excited to share with you a thrilling new novel from Hannah Mary McKinnon! If you love a novel that keeps you guessing page after page, this is just the book for you. But don´t take my word for it, read on for an excerpt of Hannah Mary McKinnon´s riveting new novel.
Chapter 1—The Man from the Beach
Cold. Cold was the first word that came to mind. The first thing I noticed when I woke up. Not a slight, uncomfortable chill to give me the shivers, but a cramp-inducing, iced-to-the-bone kind of frozen. I lay flat on my stomach, my left ear and cheek pressed into the rough, grainy wet ground beneath me, my entire body shaking. As my thoughts attempted to assemble themselves into some form of understandable order, a wave of icy water nipped at my bare toes and ankles, my instincts pulling my feet out of reach.
I had a sudden urge to get up, a primal need to take in my surroundings and assess the danger—was I in danger?—but the throbbing pain deep in my head made the slightest effort to shift anything seem impossible. Lifting a finger would be too much effort, and I acquiesced, allowing myself to lie still for another few freezing seconds as the frigid water crept over the balls of my feet again. When I blinked my eyes open, I was met by a thick, fuzzy darkness enveloping me like a cloak. Where the hell was I? And wherever it was, what was I doing here?
When I lifted my head a fraction of an inch, I could barely make out anything in front of me. There was hardly a noise either, nothing but a gentle, steady rumble in the background, and the cry of a bird somewhere in the distance. I made my brain work its way backward—bird, rumble, sand, water—and the quartet formed the vaguely cohesive image of a beach.
Searching for confirmation, I inhaled the salty, humid air deep into my lungs as another slosh of water took aim at my calves. This time the discomfort was enough to push me to my feet, and I wrapped my arms around my naked torso, my sopping board shorts clinging to my goose-bump-covered thighs. An explosion of pain in my head threatened to send me back to my knees, and I swayed gently, wishing I had something to steady myself with, willing my body to stay upright. As I pressed a hand to the side of my skull, I let out a quiet yelp, and felt along a two-inch gash in my scalp. My eyes had adjusted somewhat to the lack of light, and my fingertips were covered in something dark that smelled of rust. Blood. How had I…?
Another low rumble made me turn around, shuffling slowly in a semicircle. The behemoth effort was rewarded by the sight of a thousand glistening waves dancing under the moonlight like diamonds, the water stretching out and disappearing into the darkness beyond. As my ears tuned in to the rhythmic whoosh of the waves, my mind worked hard to process each scrap of information it took in.
I’m definitely on a beach. It’s nighttime. I’m alone. What am I doing here?
Before I could answer the single question, a thousand others crowded my brain, an incessant string of chatter I couldn’t stop or get away from.
Where is everyone? Never mind them, where am I? Have I been here long? How did I get here? Where was I before? Where are my clothes? What day is it?
My legs buckled. Not because of the unfamiliar surroundings, the cold burrowing its way deeper into my core, or the pain in my head, which had increased tenfold. No. My knees hit the sand with a dull crunch when I realized I couldn’t answer any of the questions because I couldn’t recall anything. Nothing. Not the tiniest of details.
Including my name.
Chapter 2—Lily
A frown settled over my face as I put my phone on the table, pushed the bowl of unfinished berry oatmeal away and stretched out my legs. It was Saturday morning, and I’d been up for ages, too eager—too hopeful—to spend a day at the beach with Jack, but those plans had been a literal wash-out. The start to the summer felt capricious, with this second storm in the last week of June poised to be much worse than the first. I’d convinced myself the weatherwoman had exaggerated or got her forecast completely wrong, but clouds had rolled in overnight anyway. As a result, I’d been unceremoniously woken up at two thirty by a trio of bright lightning, deafening thunderclaps and heavy raindrops pelting against my bedroom window.
At first, I’d pulled my pillow over my head to deafen the noise, and when that didn’t work, I rolled over and stretched out an arm. The spot next to me was empty and cold, and I groaned. Jack hadn’t come over to my place as I’d hoped he would, slipping into bed and pressing his naked body against mine. I’d buried my face back into my pillow and tried to ignore the tinge of disappointment. We hadn’t seen much of each other this past week, both of us too busy with our jobs to spend more than a night together, and I missed him. Jack had called the day before to tell me he’d be working late, finishing the stain on the cabinets he’d labored on for weeks before his boss had to let him go. Apparently expensive custom kitchens weren’t in as high demand in Brookmount, Maryland as originally thought.
“But you got laid off,” I’d said. “It’s your last day. Why do you care?”
“Because I made a commitment. Besides, it’ll help when I need a reference.”
Typical Jack, always keeping his word. He’d bought a lottery ticket once, and the clerk had jokingly asked if he’d give him half of any winnings. Jack had laughed and shaken the man’s hand, and when he won ten bucks on the ticket, had promptly returned to the store, and paid over the share as promised. His loyalty was one of the many things I loved about Jack, although part of me wished he weren’t quite as dedicated to his soon-to-be ex-boss.
“You could come over to my place when you’re done,” I said, smiling slowly. “I’ll leave the key under the umbrella stand. I don’t mind you waking me up gently in the middle of the night…or not so gently.”
Jack laughed softly. The sound was something I’d fallen in love with eighteen months ago after our eyes had met across a crowded bar, the mother of all uninspired first-encounter clichés, except in this case I’d been forced to admit clichés weren’t always a bad thing.
“It’ll be really late, Lily,” he said, his voice deep. His English accent was something of a rarity in our small coastal town, and still capable of making my legs wobble in anticipation of his next words. “I’ll go for a quick swim now, then finish up work. How about I come over in the morning? Around nine? I’ll bring you breakfast in bed.”
“Blueberry pancakes from Patti’s? With extra maple syrup?”
“This time I’ll order three stacks to make sure I get some.”
“Pancakes or sex?” I said, before telling him how much I loved him, and whispering exactly how I’d thank him for waking me with sweet weekend treats. I’d hoped it might change his mind and he’d come over earlier, except it was ten now, and he still hadn’t showed. It was odd. Jack detested being late as much as he loved being early. He often joked they set Greenwich Mean Time by his father’s old watch, which Jack had worn since his dad passed a little over a decade before we’d met, when Jack was only twenty.
I checked my phone again. Jack hadn’t answered either of my calls, another anomaly, but I tried to talk myself into believing he’d worked late into the night to make the final good impression he wanted, and overslept. Maybe there was a line at Patti’s—the restaurant was slammed every weekend—and perhaps his phone was set to silent.
I picked up my bowl and wandered to the kitchen. My place was the smallest of six apartments, a tiny but well-maintained one-bedroom in a building a few miles from the beach, farther than I’d planned, but the closest I could afford. I’d lived there for almost five years, had furnished it with an eclectic assortment of third-hand furniture, my favorite piece a royal blue microfiber sofa I’d bought for fifty bucks, and which Jack swore was the most comfortable thing he’d ever sat on. Whenever he sank down into it and pulled me on top of him with a contented sigh, I’d tease him about what made him happier; the squishy, well-worn cushions, or me.
The image made my frown deepen. Where was he?
Excerpted from You Will Remember Me by Hannah Mary McKinnon, Copyright © 2021 by Hannah McKinnon. Published by MIRA Books
Hannah Mary McKinnon was born in the UK, grew up in Switzerland and moved to Canada in 2010. After a successful career in recruitment, she quit the corporate world in favor of writing, and is now the author of The Neighbors, Her Secret Son, and Sister Dear. She lives in Oakville, Ontario, with her husband and three sons, and is delighted by her twenty-second commute.
Social Links:
Twitter: @HannahMMcKinnon
Instagram: @hannahmarymckinnon
Facebook: @HannahMaryMcKinnon
It´s a big one folks so buckle up! There´s a new Alyssa Cole, a YA from Sophie Jordan, Julie Murphy, and some delicious looking thrillers. If you have a young one in your life, I highly recommend the Scaredy Squirrel series by Melanie Watt. They´re hilarious and have the best illustrations. Click on the covers for more book detail and ordering information.
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I love this cover!
Reader Friends, I did it again. I was given the opportunity to read this book ages ago and I waited and waited to finally start it. Why? Because I knew once I read it, no other book would be as good and it would just ruin all books for me.
I was not wrong.
This book is absolutely amazing and I can’t wait for more in the series! This book truly has every bit of my catnip in it. A Master of Djinn is an alternate history, set in 1912 Egypt where the djinn are real and living amongst us. There is a badass female agent with the Egyptian Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments, and Supernatural Entities who looks amazing in tailored suits and refuses to be held back because she’s a woman. There’s a complicated love interest who mysteriously disappears for months at a time only to return when the world goes to hell. There’s a mysterious character who is using magic to inflict horrifying murders and take over the world. There’s a ton of rich-people problems.
It’s so good friends. So, so good.
Here’s the synopsis from the Publisher:
Cairo, 1912: Though Fatma el-Sha’arawi is the youngest woman working for the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments and Supernatural Entities, she’s certainly not a rookie, especially after preventing the destruction of the universe last summer.
So when someone murders a secret brotherhood dedicated to one of the most famous men in history, al-Jahiz, Agent Fatma is called onto the case. Al-Jahiz transformed the world forty years ago when he opened up the veil between the magical and mundane realms, before vanishing into the unknown. This murderer claims to be al-Jahiz, returned to condemn the modern age for its social oppressions. His dangerous magical abilities instigate unrest in the streets of Cairo that threaten to spill over onto the global stage.
Alongside her Ministry colleagues and a familiar person from her past, Agent Fatma must unravel the mystery behind this imposter to restore peace to the city—or face the possibility he could be exactly who he seems…
A Master of Djinn is a fast-paced adventure full of history and djinn lore. I really appreciate when an author gives the reader just enough information about the history of a region and the lore involved to keep a story flowing, and trusts the reader to look up any information they may need for more context. Several times throughout the book, Fatma or one of her colleagues would refer to a magic-related incident from their past without divulging many details. I hope as the series progresses that there will be some novellas or short stories that flesh out those incidents as they sounded like a lot of fun magical action occurred. The action never stops in this fantastical steampunk adventure through Egypt. From a true djinn in a bottle, magical sandstorms, fights in the streets and at fancy parties, the story moves along quickly .
Fatma is a strong and interesting character who felt really alive and whole. Her complicated relationships with religion, work, and her intimate relationship with Siti were all very relatable. Fatma is a true badass who never backed down from a fight, magical or mortal, but was also very vulnerable in her relationship with Siti. It was interesting how even in a magical world there could still be sensitive conversations about differences of religion as the djinn and magic were everywhere. A Master of Djinn also touches on bigger topics like cultural appropriation, racism, and sexism.
I absolutely loved this book and cannot wait to read more from this author!
If you would like to add this book to your collection, you can find ordering information here:
Thank you to Netgalley and the Publisher for the opportunity to read and review this title. All opinions and mistakes are my own. This post also contains affiliate links and I earn from qualifying purchases.
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