Thumbs up for A Widow’s Charm by Caitlyn Paxson. Fantasy romance.

A widow tries to get her necromancer neighbor to bring her dead husband back to life (for very good reasons). This is—pun fully intended—a charming book, quick and enjoyable to read. It is also, alas, sometimes clumsy and obvious, in a way that screams “debut novel” like nothing else can. I kept quietly thinking that I’ve read very similar, but better books in the not too distant past (if you’re wondering: Alexandra Rowland’s Yield Under Great Persuasion and Serra Swift’s Kill the Beast come to mind). It did give me some good chuckles, though. I am disappointed to see that the next book is not about Winthrop—I love a feisty legal genius.

Because if there was one stupid, overzealous lawyer who would be absolutely delighted to work out the legal logistics of freeholding the estate of an undead lord, it was fucking Winthrop.

Two thumbs up for The Mercy Makers by Tessa Gratton. Fantasy.

There is no way to synopsize this beautiful madness without huge spoilers, but here’s the setup: a crime lord’s daughter, who has a secret identity as a heretical magician, ends up the handmaiden of the emperor’s sister—convenient, because she’d like to bring down the empire. This was sold as a “fantasy romance,” which does it a horrible disservice, because if you’re looking for the standard genre tropes, you will not find them here. The Mercy Makers reads more like science fiction. It’s poetic, political, morally complex, and creative. Imagine if you were to take Ann Leckie’s Imperial Raadch series and make it somehow even more anti-imperialist and even more queer and then also add sex magic. There were twists that made me gasp out loud and damn, that ending. I’ve already read some great books this year, but this one hops to the top of the list. Not for everyone, but definitely for me. I preordered book two before I was even finished.

“Father…” she says, slowed down by the crisp smell of her work turning to ashes. Rising force fills the air, stifled by tarnishing smoke. A scream sounds outside the room, and a huge tremor shakes the tower. Iriset leaps for her low desk and grabs up the glove woven of spiderwebs and the finest worm silk. She clutches it to her chest, nails digging too roughly into the delicate material. It’s her greatest invention, and Bittor is setting her work on fire. Grief grabs at her when she looks at the smears on the wall: everything left of her poor spiders. They had names.

Thumbs up for Agnes Aubert’s Mystical Cat Shelter by Heather Fawcett. Cozy fantasy.

In 1920’s Montreal, a widow who runs a cat shelter has to move into a new building, only to discover that the basement is inhabited by illegal magicians—including one who tried and failed to end the world. It’s not a deep book, but it delivers perfectly on its promises: lots of cats, some magic, a bit of romance. My major concern while reading was that Agnes, who is utterly ummagical, would not have any agency over the end of the story. But she’s the one who sorts everything out, and it’s plausible. A delightful book. If you want a nice cozy read, have this one.

“Your life is more important than the cats.” She came forward and put her hands on my shoulders, pinning me in place with her grey eyes, so much like mine. “Agnes, he tried to start an apocalypse.”

Thumbs up for Weavingshaw by Heba Al-Wasity. Romantic fantasy.

A classic Gothic—plus real, actual demons. To be honest, I almost DNFed this a couple of times. I don’t want you to think it was bad—it wasn’t! The setting was well-done, and I liked the added perspective of the story being told by a character who was a refugee. But it took her and the male lead so long to start feeling anything other than loathing for each other; and it took so long for them to get to the house the book is named after. And any time the villains appeared on-page, I sighed, because I knew they were there only to explain the plot. It’s not a bad book—not at all—but it doesn’t have the polish of a more experienced writer. And then it ends on a cliffhanger, when I thought it was a standalone (publishers: always label a series!!). Will I read the next one? Yes, maybe, because there were some interesting developments near the end. Do I recommend it to readers who like Gothic vibes? I do, but I would give the warning that the pace is pretty leisurely.

“I’m an oddly incurious being, Mr. St. Silas,” she said through pursed lips. They both knew that it didn’t matter what information Leena had on St. Silas. Even if she did choose to go to the constable, anyone in New Algaraa District could attest to Leena’s eccentricities. There was that incident that had occurred a handful of weeks after she’d begun to see the dead: Leena had run into the street dressed only in a white nightgown, the fabric billowing in the winter wind so that her bare feet and ankles showed, screaming that a tall man with sallow skin was trying to kill her. Of course, when the neighbors investigated, there was no sallow-skinned man. He was a phantom.

Thumbs up for Stormcaught by Thea Hawthorne. Queer fantasy romance.

A rather unfriendly scholar saves a mysterious stranger who collapses in his doorway during a storm. This novella goes both places you would expect (a love story) and places you wouldn’t (spoilery magical things). I haven’t read this author before, but she was offering ARCs, and the cover caught me. And goodness, her writing is…for lack of a better word, magical. Charming and very highly recommended.

“Where did you learn this?” he asks as he scoops more of the stew into his bowl. Ethram can cook about five recipes passably well, and he does not deviate. Ky’s cooking is a welcome variation, and tastes, Ethram thinks, better than anything he has ever cooked with the same ingredients and the same tools. It tastes like something he’s been missing.

Thumbs up for Little Shrew by Akiko Miyakoshi. Children’s book.

A gorgeously-illustrated, cozy collection of three short stories about Little Shrew, who works hard, enjoys life’s little pleasures, and dreams about seeing the world. My coworkers and I all adored this book, though opinions were split on how sad it was. You’ll have to read it and decide for yourself.

Thumbs up for The Josefina Stories by Valerie Tripp. Children’s historical fiction.

I was aging out of the American Girl books when these were published, so I never read them back in the day. They’re wonderful, though not as full of intense adventure as some of the other stories in the greater series.

Thumbs up for Throne in the Dark by A.K. Caggiano. Fantasy romance.

A cheerfully silly and delightful fantasy romcom about a Dark Lord who gets feelings for a sunshine-y thief. I laughed quite a bit, and I liked that Amma reacts in thoroughly normal ways to dangerous and arcane events. A lot of fun; I will keep reading this series.

“My life’s work,” said Damien, lips curling at the corners and thin, black brows narrowing. “It is finally complete.” He was twenty-seven.

Two thumbs up for The Everlasting by Alix E. Harrow. Romantic fantasy.

For reasons of wartime propaganda, a scholar is sent into a time loop in order to make sure that a historic lady knight stays on script. As if that wasn’t complicated enough, he falls in love with her. It’s kind of a wild concept and the fact that the author pulled it off is astounding. A masterpiece.

I thought, despairingly, that love didn’t make cowards of us, after all; it made heroes, and heroes usually didn’t survive.

Thumbs up for All of Us Murderers by KJ Charles. Gothic romance.

After the slightly disappointing Copper Script, it’s great to see Charles returning to what she does best: penny dreadful-inspired, horror/gothic-adjacent m/m romances with crazy, twisty plots, demented family dynamics, and greater or lesser amounts of well-earned sex. (I say “well-earned” because her characters are often difficult people in tight situations; she makes them work for it, such as requiring them to communicate like adults.) The speed at which the words fly by belies the huge amount of work it must take to pull off a story this perfectly constructed. Brilliant.

Zeb grinned to himself, recognising his imaginings as the sort that Gothic heroines frequently thought and dismissed at the start of a book. Specifically, it was very much what Clara thought and dismissed at the beginning of Walter Wyckham’s Gothic classic *Clara Lackaday*, which was why she entered the brooding walls that would become her prison instead of legging it for the horizon in chapter one. The more fool Clara.