Book reviews: orphans, poetry, magic needlework, and monsters

Unravel by Amelia Loken. 5/5
Reader, I devoured this one. A disabled heroine who saves the day? Magic sewing and other kinds of needlework? Shakespeare, fairy tale, and song references? Witch trial realities? Strong women leading armies? Hell yes! Protagonist Marguerite is the princess of Valonia, a nation in a thinly disguised early modern Europe. She’s deaf, left-handed, and can see and wield magic, which her evil uncle has forbidden on pain of death. When Evil Uncle poisons his father, the King, Marguerite plans and plots and is foiled an captured and tortured and plots and most of all sews to be a witness, to make repairs, to save herself and those she loves, and emerges not unscathed but utterly confident and able to lead her people.

Ashton Hall by Lauren Belfer. 4/5
This is a nice, solid, modern gothic novel complete with the trimmings: a body, a secret room, old letters, a dying relative with a secret…. plus some excellent additions: an autistic/neurodivergent child, a very good dog, a straight woman married to a man whom she’s just discovered is bi and sleeping with his best friend. While the marriage subplot is the weakest and could easily have been jettisoned, the rest is strong and enjoyable. It’s always handy to have a character who is or is almost a PhD so that you can include cool research things, like library ledgers from great houses in the 16th and 17th centuries and so on. I think book clubs will like this one for its array of discussion points, and it’s also a great vacation read.

Dark Circles by Caite Dolan-Leach. 3/5
I enjoyed this novel with an unreliable narrator and lots of little mysteries to solve, but I feel like it needed one more round of edits. The protagonist is well-developed and the plot moves along well, but a few of the characters are stock–Bart, for example, and Wyatt. I liked the diversity of the cast and the complicated layers Olivia deals with, and the ending has just the right touch of ambiguity.

Never Name the Dead by D. M. Rowell. 1/5
This was atrociously written, relying on some serious willing suspension of disbelief, cardboard characters, and the idea of the “magic” Native American. The dialogue was unrealistic, the plotting dull, and far too much of the story told, rather than unfolded through action, for readers.

One Foot in the Fade by Luke Arnold. 2/5
A new entry in Arnold’s Sunder City series, One Foot in the Fade has some clever moments, some very predictable plotting, and an overall feeling of the author not quite knowing how to deal with the fictional world he’s created. There’s magic and the mundane, and a lot of violence, and a mostly frustrating ending. Despite the occasional flashes of wit or references, these are too much of a fight for me to keep reading.

Escaping the Body by Chloe N. Clark. 5/5
This is an outstanding book of poetry. Moving, provocative, thoughtful, and compelling, the poems here move in and around the body and the world around bodies, helping readers envision things in new ways. The language and imagery is unique and well-honed, and I especially enjoyed the references to and ideas prompted by fairy tales and the gothic.

Divine Vintage by Sandra L. Young. 3/5
A sweet romance in which a modern-day couple puts the spirits of two long-dead lovers at ease, Divine Vintage will be a good choice for readers interested in history, fashion, and the supernatural. It’s not quite a cozy mystery with ghosts, but it comes close, with the victims of a long-ago murder showing their story to those who wear–or even touch–their clothes. There’s a Happily Ever After for everyone in the story.

The Foundling by Ann Leary. 2/5
This will probably be a best-seller and book club pick, but it was just meh to me. The villainous doctor is over the top, as a re a number of other characters. The sudden onset of a social conscious and easily flung-away bigotry arising from ignorance on the part of the protagonist was a little too much, but readers who are unaware of institutions such as the one at the center of this novel will probably be too horrified by that aspect of the book to notice. Readers should be aware that eugenics is still very much a thing in our world today, determining who gets medical care and who doesn’t, and how society treats disabled people.

Together We Burn by Isabel IbaƱez. 3/5
I really liked a number of elements about this fantasy: it’s setting in a fictional Spain or similar place, the use of Spanish (although repeating every phrase in English to make sure readers understood it got a little tiresome by the end), and the characters. But it was easy to call out who the villain was in the first several pages, and equally as easy to see how the practice of dragon fighting would turn into dancing with dragons. But for audiences less well-versed in the tropes of the genre, it should be a fun book.

Throw Me to the Wolves by Lindy Ryan; Christopher Brooks. 3/5
Not a bad werewolf book, expanding on the lore with some fresh additions. The characters are pretty solidly constructed, although the differing focus on characters from a third-person viewpoint wasn’t always smooth. The setting is appropriately atmospheric, and overall the read was a good one.

Just Like Mother by Anne Heltzel. 3/5
Although often heavy-handed and too obvious to be considered nuanced or even unpredictable, this horror novel about forced motherhood, rape, and torture is still plenty disturbing.

Witch 13 by Patrick Delaney. 1/5
This was so poorly written–full of cliches and contradictions and lack of logical thought–that it was a chore to read. It really needed a strong and good editor to help the author organize their thoughts, write with clarity, avoid tired phrases and bad grammar, and create something worth reading.

The Daughter of Doctor Moreau by Silvia Moreno-Garcia. 5/5
This is an excellent reimagining of the classic Island of Doctor Moreau, a compassionate and brilliant version that I know I’ll be rereading and recommending to everyone I know. Moreno-Garcia is, as always, spot-on with her language and in creating her characters, positioning them in a historical period and place in a way that seems effortless and is yet packed with thoughtfulness and research. There are a few typos in the eARC I read–“sooth” for “soothe” occurs at least twice, and there is a “tale” where there should be a “tail” in one spot.

Classic Monsters Unleashed by Kim Newman. 3/5
This collection is a mixed bag of short stories taking on classic monsters from literature or movies–The Blob, Dracula, and others. Most are clever and fun to read, but there are a few that are slogs that could have been better. The organization of the stories is such that most of the really strong ones come first, leaving a weaker middle and end. The final story, but Joe Lansdale, is perhaps the most viscerally horrifying. The illustrations are superfluous and not particularly well-executed or interesting.

Woman of Light by Kali Fajardo-Anstine. 1/5
I was surprised to read the author’s bio at the end of this book, full of awards and accolades, because the book is just kind of meh. The characters lack depth and interiority and are often stereotypes (Diego the lover, sleeping with every woman he meets; David the shady Jewish lawyer; Mickey the Irish drunk). The protagonist, Luz, is like a damp rag–she’s passive and easily maneuvered by others, has no strong opinions, no interests, only her talent for reading tea leaves and then lying to people about them. The book is also riddled with typos, mostly of homophones (due for do, fair for fare) and a lot of creative or nonstandard usage whose meaning is not always clear: a “skimp dog” sticks with me.

Wise Gals by Nathalia Holt. 3/5
Wise Girls focuses on the careers of several women involved with the founding and early years of the CIA. It’s probably gonna sella lot of copies, and there’s no doubt that the women chronicled here deserve the attention. But the writing is clunky, full of awkward transitions and forced connections that make it a less-that-stellar read. I understand the author’s desire to show the interconnectedness of the women she covers, but a more linear or other structure would have served their stories better. I also look askance at the author’s decision to call the women by their first names while referring to men by their last names; this practice is sexist and most editors will call authors on it. Maybe Holt and her editor wanted the women to seem more familiar or human, but using an old-fashioned, male-centric practice undermines the feminist argument that the book offers.