I liked it, didn’t love it sadly. There were tropes in here that I should have known would bother me, and then they did—so this is definitely an example of "Amy should read the summary first" and not a problem of the book!
Steam factor: ★★★ (for Tessa, this was bland)
Pacing: ★★ 1/2
Enjoyment: ★★★ 1/2
A quick disclaimer: I LOVE Tessa Bailey! This might have been a miss for me, but it was for personal, niche reasons and not for a poorly-executed story. This review is a little meh, a little gripe-y, and overall lackluster. That was totally me not enjoying the tropes written on the tin and not a reflection on the book.
In Tessa Bailey's latest novel, It Happened One Summer, Tessa takes on some romance trope titans: the small-town coastal community, the "airhead, sheltered" main female character, and the trope of "finding true meaning in the simple life."
If it sounds like K.A. Tucker's The Simple Wild to you, then you'd be right. I would say that this novel follows a similar blueprint to K.A. Tucker with some different twists and a different ending of sorts (so for those who have read that one, I'm not spoiling this book by comparing the two).
In a bizarre move that sounds ridiculous as I type it out, I'm going to recommend this book by highlighting all of the things I didn't like about it... because I think this is the perfect romance for the right reader and it's just my cranky self that hates these things.
1.) If you loved The Simple Wild, you'll love this. Lots of similarities with enough unique twists to be a different reading experience.
2.) If you like the idea of your main character being a transplant into a community/situation/set-up where she is at a huge disadvantage and does not know how to cope and is constantly seen as the rich/spoiled/sheltered female, then you'll enjoy this setup of a Californian, rich social media influencer transplanted into this coastal Pacific Northwest town.
3.) If you like your romances with very little drama—and when it gets to the drama, it's of the low-stakes variety—then you'll love this story. This is a not an angsty ride through the trenches.
4.) If you're looking for a story that handles plot first, romance second, and sex third, then you'll enjoy this story. For Tessa, who is known for some steamy scenes and content, I thought this was... really tame. Not sure why. It was definitely a departure from her other work.
Overall, not for me, but I did think it was cute. I am interested in the next book in the series, as it sounds like the tropes are much more up my alley. We'll see!
Favorite in the series?? YES.
Act Your Age, Eve Brown is the third and final book in the Brown sisters trilogy, but as it's a romance series, each book is a great entry point into the universe. I recommend this to series readers and new readers both.
Eve was the sister that I connected to the least in the first few books, so I was really interested to see how Talia Hibbert was going to take her story. Eve is the youngest sister, the one with the most interesting (cough cough, flighty) career backstory, and she's also the wild child of the family.
So when Eve's parents put their feet down and tell her she's got to settle down and stick with a job, Eve is NOT happy. She knows she's been riding the high of no consequences and no responsibilities for a while, but this was... harsh.
So Eve gets in her car and drives into the English countryside. She stops at a quaint town. She sees a "Cook Wanted" sign at a cute bed and breakfast, and she interviews on the spot.
Jacob Wayne is the owner of said bed and breakfast. A man with a steel-fisted sense of control and manuals on manuals to "How-To" his way to success, Jacob can't rationalize Eve. He also can't stop fixating on her. He turns her down for the job.
Then Eve runs him over in her car—by accident!!—and fractures his arm. Now Jacob has no choice: it's Eve or bust as he's approaching a festival deadline and he needs the help.
What will Eve, the purple-haired feisty wild child, and Jacob, the tight-laced buttoned up soul, do with each other??
Obviously fall in love.
Oh, oh, OHHHHHHH this was so. much. fun. I could not get ENOUGH of this story!
I laughed! I threw the book down due to secondhand embarrassment! I thought Eve and Jacob were precious! The autism rep! The conversations about love and intimacy! The sex!
Nothing negative. I don't have anything intellectual to say (sorry), I just have insane amounts of fangirl screaming to shout down the internet void at you, reading this review.
Really interesting. Hypnotic. Didn’t go where I expected it to go, and carried an uncomfortable edge from beginning to bitter end.
Writing style: ★★★★
Sense of unease: ★★★★★
Plot/Pacing: ★★★ 1/2
The Temple House Vanishing comes out on July 6!
As I write this review, there's a thunderstorm outside my window and we're on our 5th day of constant rain and storms. This feels almost creepily tied to the review of this book... so I'm rolling with it.
It was a dark, and stormy night...
But actually, it wasn't. It was just "a" night in the rural Irish moors when Louisa disappears from the Temple House school. The enigmatic young male teacher, Mr. Lavelle, disappears too. Many theories abound over the years as neither student nor teacher are seen again.
Did they run off together?
Was their something sordid in their closeness?
Where are they now?
What REALLY happened that school year in the all-girls boarding school?
On the 25th anniversary of the disappearances, a journalist decides to have a crack at solving the case. The students are now middle-aged women, the nuns who ran the school are dead, and Temple House itself is slated for demolition. If the case is going to be solved at all, it must be now.
But all is not what it seems, and as the layers unpeel from this gothic tale the lingering sense of unease creeps up on you. Don't get too comfortable.
I thought this was a very interesting novel. Is it a mystery/thriller? Kind of. Is it a twisted tale, meant to unearth the darkest aspects of human nature? I don't know if I'd say that. In the end, I'd say it's a character study and an exercise in the gothic classics. The Temple House Vanishing is perfect for those who enjoy Sarah Waters and Sarah Moss.
The writing style took a little getting used to, as it's very no-nonsense and deals in overt sentences laced with undertones. I found it really easy to get lost in the surface plot and glaze over some of the fine print in the details... and then that would bite me later, as those fine details were where the true story is unfolding.
A complex, multilayered dual-POV novel with a lot of interesting nuances.
Now, a brief NON-SPOILER section on the ending. As this novel is centered around a mysterious circumstance, there is a final series of reveals regarding The Truth of What Happened. I found myself surprised by the ending... and also slightly cheated... and also vaguely uneasy. It wasn't a comfortable, or frankly satisfying, ending. But it felt very real and not over-sensationalized and honestly fit right in with the overall sense of lingering unease that the novel provoked.
If this review doesn't turn you right off from the book, then I'd say you should pick it up! The target audience is on the small, niche side, but you'll have a good time here if that's your thing.
Thank you to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
This was…complex. I've slept on this review, and at the end of the day I think it boils down to this: this is a memorable, engaging, and haunting story. But ultimately not for me.
Story structure: ★★★
Dave Cartwright is done. Unwilling to look his PTSD from Iraq in the eye, when his wife dies in a car accident after their last fight it's the last straw for Dave--he throws in the towel. With society.
He becomes convinced that the only way to take charge of his life--and the life of his seven-year-old daughter, Bella--is that he needs to move them into the North Cascades, a mountain range in rural Washington. So he does. He leaves his house, his life, his money, and his support network and takes Bella.
So the two Cartwrights move into the wilderness. So far, so good. Bella thinks its an adventure, and Dave can finally breathe away from all of the gunk that he didn't want to face in town.
But then things start to turn, and Bella's life changes--she starts seeing these visions. Not flashbacks, per se, but more glimpses into the life of an ancient Native American woman who lived in these mountains at the end of the last Ice Age.
With those two dual narratives--Bella and Dave's in the present, Sitka and her son's in the far ancient past--this novel unfolds with atmospheric undertones and an ominous edge.
Will the North Cascades let either duo survive?
If this feels very much like the concept of Into the Wild to you, you're not alone. I felt very similar vibes and reactions to this decision while Dave was putting it into place. (Into the Wild frustrated me to no end.) Does Dave think this will work? How does he think this is good for his daughter, who is still learning things in school and is grieving herself? How long does he think he can keep this up? Why are we spending so much time with this Native American family? Why is Bella seeing their lives play out like a disassociated movie in her head?
Those were my questions.
Maybe it was just me, as a 26-year-old female with no overly outdoor bone in her body. Maybe it was also my complete lack of experience with PTSD as it relates to our current veterans returning from a war with more grey areas than justice. But. At the end of the day, I just didn't understand Dave or his motivations. And when I couldn't get behind his decisions, I found myself upset with the story. I was worried for Bella, for their survival, for their sanity. I was also extremely perturbed by the lack of action taken by the town and Dave's surrounding family.
I don't know, folks. I found myself more concerned with the logistics and logic of this book to the point that I couldn't enjoy the story. My family calls me the extreme "over -worrier" though, so take my ??? with a grain of salt.
Another element of the story that confused me was the interjections of Sitka, the Native American woman, surviving with her young family in the same wilderness. I completely understood the parallels taking place--one family versus another in the same place, with the same desperate wills to survive. But to have Sitka's story displayed to Bella, and not to Dave, felt strange to me. How is a young child supposed to make sense of that story, and what was she supposed to do with this information?
I don't know. As you can see, I have a lot of feelings and strong emotions around this story. Because of that, I DO strongly encourage others to pick up Legends of the North Cascades if the story seems of interest to you. The writing is stellar and the plot is compelling, and it clearly provokes a response--which is the best type of fiction.
Thank you to Algonquin for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
This pretty, gorgeous, absolutely irresistible package of a book is so much fun to hold and to have on your shelves. I bought it for the hype and I am 100% satisfied with my purchase. As a book collector, this will live on my shelf forever and look beautiful.
But did I love it??
...No. Sadly. I tried so, so hard to love this novel—but at the end of the day, when you strip the marketing, the blacked out pages, and the mysteriousness of the blurb from consideration... the story itself didn't do much for me.
I've been sitting on this all day, what to say for this review. Because after reading so many other reviews on Goodreads, Instagram, TikTok, you name it.. it seems like it's just me in this corner of hey, it was cool, but it wasn't amazing? I was bored, frankly. And I thought the plot struggled to make itself known between the choppy descriptions of really cool things and the goobledygook name pronunciations.
Not much... happens. I mean, in a very literal sense, the characters move from space to space quite frequently and talk, a LOT, to a lot of people in various settings. But my overall feeling for 80% of this 500 page "prologue" was one of looking at the metaphorical clock, going hey... I'd love for the story to start soon, thanks, and then... at the very, very last page, it felt like we were finally getting somewhere. (I hold a large candle of hope that due to the ending's takeoff, this "prologue" was meant to feel this way and the next volume will not have this issue.)
Reig and Trad are two twins who live in a different realm/reality within an organization known as the Octunnumi. Like a fantastical version of the Men in Black concept ( I am really, REALLY reducing the complexity of this book's premise with this comparison, and I know that, but this is a good likeness if you strip away the excess), the Octunnumi exists but the world of Earth doesn't know they exist. They pop in and out of these portal doors and affect/change/manipulate things in our world and we never, ever know they're there. They interface with magical beings and influence humans' opinions on art, culture, design, and technology.. all from behind the unseen curtain.
In the realm of the Octunnumi, Reig and Trad travel from fantastical section of the realm to fantastical section of the realm like an interdimensional train station/antique store/urban market hybrid that would make an AMAZING visual cornucopia of a movie. The descriptions are lush and the areas of the realm sound awesome. A playground for the imagination in every sense of the word.
But what are Reig and Trad doing, exactly, and what happens in this prologue?
Well, while still avoiding spoilers, let me just say... not much.
There's a plot thread of children, presumed dead from a failed rescue operation ages past, who have been identified as alive. This is the "core" plot of sorts, as Reig and Trad were on the rescue team and never got over this loss - so to find out these children are alive, yet still missing, has spurred the two boys into action to relocate them. The core plot, as much as it can be called such, is the twins moving around the realm talking to people and gathering people/ideas/things together loosely to work toward finding these missing children.
There's also a plot thread of Reig and Trad's old friend, Nicolas, who was forcefully ejected from the Octunnumi around the time of the failed rescue operation and condemned to a life on Earth due to his forbidden love with a girl outside his race. This comes back to bite the Octunnumi organization in the butt when Nicolas arrives on their doorstep many regenerations later (oh, did I mention all of these operatives endlessly regenerate/reincarnate instead of die? Yes, they do. It is unnecessarily confusing) with a mystery of his own and ulterior motives.
And, of course, there are Reig and Trad themselves. They were the most interesting to me at the start, as there was a fair amount of foreshadowing involved regarding a meta Narrator who interacts with the boys directly (the author of this book, self-inserted as their Narrator), some allusions to the some Things that will Happen Soon and other such nuggets. I was intrigued at their history and their future. However, like many other things about this novel, my fascination soon turned to boredom and eventually shifted into flat out exasperation as hundreds of pages flew by and Reig and Trad remained exactly the same. No character development or growth, no insights into their motivations and/or feelings of attachment, and ultimately no sense of what they cared about and/or wanted to happen. Unlike most novels, the main characters you get on page one are the exact same as the ones on the last page.
As you can see from my extremely scattered thoughts and reactions, this was an ultimately polarizing read. I liked elements, I disliked other elements, and ultimately I didn't love it. But am I intrigued enough to see if my dislikes are solved in volume two? Heck yes.
We'll see what happens next.
Compelling and off-kilter, this novel was a very quick read. But I wanted more as a mystery reader?
Mystery elements: ★★
This is another one of those books where I have to preface my review and say "oh hey, it was me again—I thought this book would be something else. Whoops!" That doesn't happen too often these days as I'm getting better and better at figuring out my own reading preferences... but clearly there are still some one-offs that sneak past my radar.
I was looking for a more standard whodunit, complete with a detective, a perpetrator, and a solution. The Falling Woman is more lyrical than that, and less tied to those rules and regulations. This is a novel about humanity, struggle, and what we do when faced with impossibilities.
It's a beautiful novel in it's own way.
At first it's just a rumor. A woman survived a mid-air plane explosion? Impossible. Literally, unbelievable. But the rumor grows, and soon the investigators in charge of explaining the plane crash take a leap into the impossible - maybe the "falling woman" is real. And if so, how exactly did she survive?
Plane crash investigator Charlie Ranford is on the case. Well, he's mostly on the case. Okay, partially on the case. He doesn't exactly want to be on the case, but that's the way it is, alright? (Charlie is a very contradictory, anxiety-ridden personality. It's a little exhausting.)
A reluctant advocate for the "Falling Woman," as she is dubbed by the press, Charlie starts to unpeel the layers from fact and fiction to see if maybe, just maybe, she's a legitimate story. But if she's real... why can't they find her? Why did she go off the grid? Does she not want to reunite with her family? Why?
The Falling Woman unpeels like an complicated wrapping, and as we uncover the motivations and situations that led to Charlie speaking in front of a tribunal about his actions following the crash, we as the reader come to realize that this isn't a mystery about who or what ended the lives of those on the plane. It's a story about humans, and the struggles and realities that we all face when confronted with impossible choices.
Give this one a try if you like novels centered on the complexities of our decisions, humans stuck in hard places, and the ties that connect us all in the end. This isn't a novel with a "who crashed the plane and why ending" and I feel like that's not a bad spoiler to share - because if that's a spoiler to you, then this isn't the right novel to read.
Come for the characters and stay for the characters—it's a fascinating journey.
Thank you to Algonquin for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
A complicated story with some beautiful writing. The "hot stew" of one community's complex and layered peoples amidst conflict? Indeed.
Emotional connection: ★★
So this is a doozy of a novel. I'm going to do my best to synthesize my feelings for it here, but as it was so complex and rich with social commentary, I'm sure I'll accidentally overlook at least one thing.
In modern-day Soho, where sex workers, restauranteurs, drifters, old hanger-ons and more all coexist on the same street, "community" is a blended thing. For sex workers Precious and Tabitha, their community is a rich tapestry of clients, coworkers, neighbors, and old acquaintances—and each other. For Robert, one of their older regulars, his memories of a time as a gang leader's heavy-hitter are an unwelcome reminder of the past and the people around him at all times. For Agatha, the complicated daughter of Robert's billionaire gang leader and the property owner of Precious and Tabitha's building, community is a concept that she shuns and tries to bury in cold distance and money.
Those are just a few of the perspectives we're following in Hot Stew, Fiona Mozley's sophomore novel. A complex, ever-shifting perspective of one community's simmering landscape...this was intense.
The inciting incident is Agatha's decision to force out those who live in her properties, but it quickly becomes a different animal to read--this isn't just about a property, or even an address. It's about the soft ties that bind a bunch of (seemingly) unconnected people.
For those who love literary fiction with an edge, this is a great novel for you. It is scintillating in its perusal of womanhood and ownership. It also tackles multi-generational conflicts and lasting impacts. It is also an introspective of a geographically-based community.
However, I as a reader was not the perfect audience. While I enjoyed and quickly became engrossed in the storytelling, Hot Stew failed to cross the barrier between awareness and involvement for me on a character level. I am a very character-driven reader. Due to the focus on almost a dozen distinct POVs in this slim novel—and the intention of the author to focus on the community itself as a singular "POV" of sorts—I felt perpetually held at a distance from the characters themselves.
Overall, personal lack of connection aside, I found Hot Stew utterly compelling. Do pick it up if any of the above has interested you—you're in for a memorable reading experience.
Thank you to Algonquin for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
From girlhood to womanhood, Libertie is one woman's journey to freedom—both mental and physical—inspired by the life of one of America's first Black female doctors. Talk about some stunning writing and storytelling.
I think this book is going to be the source of a lot of discussion this year. It feels like a story that will last, not the least because of its captivating writing and strong sense of character.
Libertie is a free born Black woman growing up in Brooklyn in the mid-1800s. Her mother is a practicing doctor. The two women and their female assistant, Lenore, operate a medical practice for Black people in the New York area, and occasionally for white women, too, as Libertie's mother can pass for white.
In this uniquely matriarchal and progressive bubble, Libertie is raised. She is raised to be educated, to read and write and learn medicinal treatments, and to follow in her mother's footsteps as a free Black woman with ambitions of her own. She grows up with an abundance of food, education, and sense of self in a world where many Black individuals are still actively enslaved and seeking freedom.
But like many daughters, Libertie doesn't necessarily recognize the unique circumstances of her mother's efforts as a gift to savor... she needs to carve her own path, regardless of the consequences.
Spanning from Brooklyn to Ohio to Haiti and beyond, Libertie was a physical, mental, and emotional journey that will remain with me for years to come.
I thought this novel was beautiful. The writing was show-stopping—Greenidge's prose lifted me into the story immediately and I found myself swept along for the ride in a consuming reading experience. Even though I disagreed with many of Libertie's actions and feelings, I couldn't help but read her story.
Complex themes of racial identity, divides between free born Black people and those escaping from enslaved situations in the American South, what it means to be female and Black in 1800s America, classicism, religion, a hint of magical realism... this novel packed in a lot in its 300-some pages. I thought it was masterfully done.
My one caveat to the reading experience is minor, and most likely personal. I found Libertie's refusal to trust and follow her mother's guidance to be intense. This might be because my own relationship with my mother is very close, but for whatever reason I found Libertie's decisions to be rash and filled with an odd level of anger and distrust. Clearly a personal reason, but still wanted to mention it here in case other readers feel the same way.
Overall, a beautiful story that I hope receives a wide readership this year. One of my favorite reads of 2021.
Thank you to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
A different book from the rest of the series, and one that is sure to upset some with its pacing and plot. This is a slow burn, a fast burn, and a character-driven exploration all at the same time. And yet. For those of us who have been waiting...this was a healing.
(I have a LOT to say, so strap in!)
Pacing: ★★ 1/2
Character decisions: ★★★★
Disclaimer: This is the 11th book in the Black Jewels world and the direct sequel to The Queen's Bargain. While I do not spoil anything for this particular book, there ARE spoilers for the other books in the world and for The Queen's Bargain. Please do not read if you do not want to be spoiled for previous books.
This is not an entry point novel for the series.
I really don't know where to start. For those of us who have been with Anne Bishop since Daughter of the Blood, we've been through some things. In particular, Twilight's Dawn imparted some shocking new developments for the plot and its characters and then left us to hang with that for several years—i.e., discovering that Daemon and Surreal decide to get married and have a daughter named Jaenelle Saetien. (There's other stuff too, obviously, but that was the mic drop.)
Then the The Queen's Bargain entered the scene in 2020 when we followed Lucivar Yaslana and Daemon Sadi as they embarked on the new frontier: parenthood. In particular, we got to watch Jaenelle Saetien grow up and Daemon's internal chalice crumble once again as his true nature as the Sadist fell apart with Surreal's fear and distrust. It was a painful journey, there's no mistaking that. But it ended on a hopeful tendril: Witch intervened.
Following the events of The Queen's Bargain, Lucivar and Daemon are now older, wiser, and soothed by the fact that their one true Queen, Witch, is not as lost to them as they had previously assumed. She's not back—not really—but her core remains sentient and she can speak with them in the Keep of Ebon Askavi. And for the two sides of the triangle, that is enough. For the Sadist, who needed the oversight and the acceptance, that is enough.
And for Daemonar, who is now old enough to be considered a young man, that is enough. His Auntie J is raising Daemonar to be the new third side to the triangle with his Uncle Daemon and his father. And a new storm is brewing in Kaleer. Before long, Daemonar will be needed. The queen will have need of her weapons.
For the long-lived races, several hundred years is not enough to forget the memory of Witch and the sacrifices made for the Blood of the realms. But for the shorter-lived races, that lesson has become a distant memory. When history becomes a distant memory, some decide to conveniently forget its teachings...
A new taint is darkening the pages. And Daemon, Lucivar, and Daemonar need to be ready.
This was... a journey. First off, I have to admit that the pacing of this book was difficult. The first 100 pages were a lot of recap and character interactions that I enjoyed as a Black Jewels mega-fan but did become tedious, even for me. So the plot itself took its sweet time to arrive.
But when it did, it really kicked off. To avoid spoilers, let's just say that while Kaleer might have forgotten that Saetan's sons have claws... the sons themselves have not. If peace isn't an option, they're happy to pick the other road. Whew boy, the boys are BACK.
The Queen's Weapons follows quite a few points of view. Daemonar is one of the main ones, along with Daemon and Lucivar. But we're also along for the ride with Surreal—who finally finds her backbone that was mysteriously absent for all of The Queen's Bargain—and with Jaenelle Saetien. (And a few others, but those are the main ones.)
Let's talk about Jaenelle Saetien. I mean, I really can't due to spoilers, but I want to. Desperately. This was an intense novel that Jaenelle Saetien made much more difficult to get through for us readers. But the pain and agony of dealing with her—there's no other way to put it, it felt like a chore to experience her behavior—was made worth it by the climax of the novel.
Anne Bishop doesn't need to keep outdoing herself with masterful writing and emotionally complex characters, but man does it feel like she outdoes herself with each new book. This was another masterclass from the queen of dark fantasy. I know I'm the last person to provide an unbiased review, and y'all can call me out on that I don't even care, but I loved this. It's always a joy to walk the roads in the Realms with our favorite people.
And Witch, I'm glad you're with us again.
If you were upset with Twilight's Dawn, then let me promise you that this book is a healing. It's a painful, joyous ride—but the ending made me cry from happiness. We made it. The light at the end of the tunnel is glorious, and now I am unreservedly excited for whatever happens next.
Thank you to ACE/Berkley for my ARC in exchange for an honest review.
Two adult gay men reckon with being part of the community now that's out and proud and more accepted in modern culture—with vastly different results. With a sharp focus on the generation of cis white men who grew up with the fear and the secrecy and never expected to be thrust into the mainstream, this was an interesting and thought provoking read.
Plot/Pacing: ★★★★ 1/2
Character development: ★★★★
Scope: This was focused on cis white gay men and their experiences
Sebastian and Oscar grew up as friends. Both gay, cis, and white, they experienced several early moments together and were relatively close. But as adults, they drifted apart.
In Let's Get Back to the Party, author Zak Salih invites us to tag along with Sebastian and Oscar as they go their separate ways in adulthood. While they started out with similar childhoods and share a gay cultural identity, the two have manifested those experiences very differently as adults.
Sebastian looks at the modern world around him in awe. A teacher, he finds himself increasingly obsessed with one of his young male students. The student has been out and proud for years, has a boyfriend, and has enjoyed being a gay man in modern America. Grappling with his odd place as being too old for that type of generational freedom of expression, Sebastian watches it unfold in the younger generation and muses on the pasts and futures of the gay community.
Oscar looks at the modern gay experience with more negative feelings. Seeing the assimilation of the community into the straight culture—and the number of gay men doing the "straight" thing and getting married and settling down—he sees the lifestyle that the community carved for themselves disappearing before his eyes. He becomes obsessed with the past, and fixates on a famous gay author's past works instead.
A deep dive into the complicated intricacies of generational loss and growth, Let's Get Back to the Party is a read that is hard to forget.
I really enjoyed the messy and complicated truths that the author presented for us in the archetypes of Sebastian and Oscar. While it's true that both of their experiences reflected the white, cis male gay experience and do not speak to the intersectionality at play in other conversations, this was still an intimate portrait of how modern times have fundamentally changed that community for better and for different. Really appreciated the read.
Thank you to Algonquin Books for my copy in exchange for an honest review.
Amy Imogene Reads
Just someone looking for her own door into Wonderland.