One of my pet peeves with the paranormal romance genre isn’t the fact that the darkest, most sinister monsters from mythology are so often defanged, bOne of my pet peeves with the paranormal romance genre isn’t the fact that the darkest, most sinister monsters from mythology are so often defanged, but that the domestication is done so casually, and without comment. That’s where my love for Whatnots and Doodads – and, by extension, the shared world of Strange Hollow – begins.
Here, Stacey presents us with a paranormal romance full of mythological monsters, all of whom are fully aware of their outcast nature. In fact, the lovely little town of Strange Hollow exists solely to give these outcasts a home, a refuge from others of their kind who look down upon them for their domestication. With Whatnots and Doodads, she introduces us to the romantic pairing of an outcast witch who can’t control her magic, and an outcast demon who would rather save souls than steal them.
What makes this work so well is the fact that Bryanna is fully aware of what a mythological demon should be. Her initial reaction to Zeke is precisely what you would expect from someone, especially a witch, upon encountering a “spawn of Satan” – she demands he stop the car, afraid he’s going to eat her! It’s this reaction that so naturally opens the door for Jacinda, outcast Fae and founder of the town, to explain the paranormal sanctuary that is Strange Hollow.
The love story that follows is sweet, seductive, and oh-so-hot. Zeke may be a demon, but he may as well be a knight in shining armour. He takes Bryanna under his wing, helps her get settled, and makes it his mission to make her see that she’s different, not damaged. He wants her to love him more than anything else in the world, but only if he can first make her accept that she is as worthy of love and respect as any other witch. He is patient, kind, and gentle when he needs to be, but also completely capable of taking charge and ravishing his love.
As for Bryanna, she’s a delightful young woman, as different and as wondrous as the whatnots and doodads so eccentrically produced by her magic. Part of her revels in her outcast nature, as evidenced by her gothic manner of dress (which leads to a steamy scene in the dressing room involving a new corset and a black lace thong, all chosen for her by Zeke!), but she’s been raised to believe she’s damaged, an embarrassment to her family and her coven. When she makes the decision to give in to Zeke’s seduction, it’s initially as an act of rebellion, but she soon comes to revel in the feeling of being loved, rather than possessed.
The romance and the seduction here is just breathtaking, the kind of story that makes you feel warm and content all over. It takes a while for the spark of attraction to kindle into flames of passion – as it should – but when it does, the sex is absolutely magical. It’s light-hearted and fun, like first loves should be, and never takes advantage of Bryanna’s fragile emotional state.
A fun, sexy, altogether enjoyable read, Whatnots and Doodads is a book I’ve already insisted several friends read. I loved it, and I suspect you will too.
Merged review:
One of my pet peeves with the paranormal romance genre isn’t the fact that the darkest, most sinister monsters from mythology are so often defanged, but that the domestication is done so casually, and without comment. That’s where my love for Whatnots and Doodads – and, by extension, the shared world of Strange Hollow – begins.
Here, Stacey presents us with a paranormal romance full of mythological monsters, all of whom are fully aware of their outcast nature. In fact, the lovely little town of Strange Hollow exists solely to give these outcasts a home, a refuge from others of their kind who look down upon them for their domestication. With Whatnots and Doodads, she introduces us to the romantic pairing of an outcast witch who can’t control her magic, and an outcast demon who would rather save souls than steal them.
What makes this work so well is the fact that Bryanna is fully aware of what a mythological demon should be. Her initial reaction to Zeke is precisely what you would expect from someone, especially a witch, upon encountering a “spawn of Satan” – she demands he stop the car, afraid he’s going to eat her! It’s this reaction that so naturally opens the door for Jacinda, outcast Fae and founder of the town, to explain the paranormal sanctuary that is Strange Hollow.
The love story that follows is sweet, seductive, and oh-so-hot. Zeke may be a demon, but he may as well be a knight in shining armour. He takes Bryanna under his wing, helps her get settled, and makes it his mission to make her see that she’s different, not damaged. He wants her to love him more than anything else in the world, but only if he can first make her accept that she is as worthy of love and respect as any other witch. He is patient, kind, and gentle when he needs to be, but also completely capable of taking charge and ravishing his love.
As for Bryanna, she’s a delightful young woman, as different and as wondrous as the whatnots and doodads so eccentrically produced by her magic. Part of her revels in her outcast nature, as evidenced by her gothic manner of dress (which leads to a steamy scene in the dressing room involving a new corset and a black lace thong, all chosen for her by Zeke!), but she’s been raised to believe she’s damaged, an embarrassment to her family and her coven. When she makes the decision to give in to Zeke’s seduction, it’s initially as an act of rebellion, but she soon comes to revel in the feeling of being loved, rather than possessed.
The romance and the seduction here is just breathtaking, the kind of story that makes you feel warm and content all over. It takes a while for the spark of attraction to kindle into flames of passion – as it should – but when it does, the sex is absolutely magical. It’s light-hearted and fun, like first loves should be, and never takes advantage of Bryanna’s fragile emotional state.
A fun, sexy, altogether enjoyable read, Whatnots and Doodads is a book I’ve already insisted several friends read. I loved it, and I suspect you will too....more
LGBT is a story of lust, gore, bloodshed, and terror featuring Lavelle (a lesbian adult film star with a problematic soulmate), Greg (a mature gay manLGBT is a story of lust, gore, bloodshed, and terror featuring Lavelle (a lesbian adult film star with a problematic soulmate), Greg (a mature gay man with an unfaithful young husband), Bryn (a bisexual vampire seeking a soulmate of her own), and Tammi (a disgraced transgender influencer desperate for cash).
However, since this is a Wol-vriey book, it also features Mary Yang (a sweet lesbian with dark passions), Mr. Silence (a crazed torturer with a dark imagination), Lynch (a necrophiliac with dark lusts), and Rainbow (a colorful witch with dark power). It’s how and why those two groups of characters come together, however, where the story is to be found, with one poor choice compounding another, and one twist getting tangled up with another.
Yes, there are ghosts, vampires, and witches in the book, with dark magic enabling so much of the darkness, but it’s a very human story of mortal sins and failings. Everyone here has been seduced by something or someone, has given in to one baser urge or another, and they’re going to pay. Murder, torture, deals with the devil, it’s all here, but nothing ever goes quite as you might expect.
LGBT is dark and violent, but in a gleeful sort of way, inviting the reader to take a vicarious sort of satisfaction in seeing these characters get what’s coming to them. It takes a while to get going as we meet the characters and get involved in their lives, but when things start going wrong, the story careens along to one disaster after another.
Her Majesty's Royal Coven is an urban fantasy about witches and women, sisters and mothers, history and identity, and the cycles of violence and oppreHer Majesty's Royal Coven is an urban fantasy about witches and women, sisters and mothers, history and identity, and the cycles of violence and oppression that plague the world. Juno Dawson has cast her spell over a work of literary magic that's as emotional as it is exciting, with a revelation I hoped was coming, a twist I hoped wasn't, and a cliffhanger that I didn't expect.
Helena, Niamh, Leonie, and Elle are childhood friends, witches one and all, survivors of a brutal war between witches and warlocks, who have since gone their own ways. One has risen to lead the royal coven, one has started her rival coven of diversity (welcoming women of all races, cultures, and LGBTQIA identities), one who has taken a step back to turn her powers to becoming a veterinarian, and one who has turned her back to become an ordinary housewife.
It's the problem of an out-of-control magical child that brings them back together, and while it's the prophecy of The Sullied Child that threatens their sisterhood, it's something entirely human that ultimately tears them apart.
Hatred. Fear. Prejudice. Intolerance. Call it what you will, the fate of witches (and possibly the world) rests on that pivotal child and a question of acceptance or rejection.
(view spoiler)[ Theo is a quiet, reclusive child who is haunted as much by memories of their past as confusion about their present. We quickly learn they are an adept, not only more powerful than any warlock (man) alive, but any witch (woman) as well. What we don't learn until halfway through the book is that they are transgender, a woman in their heart and soul, who only wants to be seen and accepted for who they are.
For a book of magic and fantasy, there are some very deep, very angry conversations about gender identity and gender politics, about whether Theo can ever be accepted as a 'real' woman, and it's to Dawson's credit that fictional characters can endear themselves to me as much as friends, and infuriate me as much as foes. She refuses to pull her punches or suggest there can be a middle ground. This is a story that demands you take sides, as it should, because to remain indecisive is to stand by and watch as Leviathan destroys the world. (hide spoiler)]
Parts of the story are almost Hallmark-worthy, scenes of family tenderness, friendship drama, and will-they-won't-they romance. Others are the stuff of daytime talk shows, discussions around feminism, white privilege, gender discrimination, and more. Still others are the stuff of Gothic beauty, with a love and reverence for nature, while the final act is pure MCU territory, with magical battles that rival any big-screen superhero movie. It's a lot, and sometimes the transitions (or overlaps) are a bit intense, but when it feels preachy, you can tell it's from a place of frustration, and I can't quibble with any of it.
To say Her Majesty’s Royal Coven was not what I expected is an understatement, but one that opened me up to an absolute delight. I loved this story, I felt this story, in ways that few authors can make me feel. There were moments that made me smile, moments that had me reading through tears, and still others that had me leaping to my feet in outrage or triumph. I am so very glad I gave this a read, and I ordered a copy of The Shadow Cabinet the moment I finished because I want to enjoy the anticipation for Queen B.
Reminiscent of the Tamir Triad by Lynn Flewelling, and yet entirely its own unique tale of witchcraft and wizardry, Witch King’s Oath is a story that Reminiscent of the Tamir Triad by Lynn Flewelling, and yet entirely its own unique tale of witchcraft and wizardry, Witch King’s Oath is a story that takes some time to find its footing, but which only gets better (and deeper) with each new chapter. By the end I was staying up far too late, devouring each page, desperate to find out how it all would end.
AJ Glasser does a lot of really interesting things with this story (I’ll get to the aspect that hooked me in a moment), but the use of magic is one of my favorites. This is a world of witches and mages, two opposing forces of magic, wrapped up in a conflict between the rival nations of Ammar and Nynomath. There are clear themes of good versus evil here, witches versus mages, but the persecution of witches in Ammar introduces various shades of grey. For a long while we’re not sure what to think or who to trust, but slowly the story teases out the truth.
What hooked me, what convinced me to give this a read, is the exploration of gender. No spoilers here (it’s in the cover blurb), but Prince Anryn is a woman cursed to grow up in a man’s body, never feeling quite right about him/herself, yet never understanding why. There’s one character who sees the truth of the Prince, and that creates a sort of dichotomy in the story where the narrative switches between he/him and she/her depending on the POV. The exploration of gender goes even deeper than that, though, contrasting two very different cultures through the eyes of Princess (to-be) Beatrice. She comes from a kingdom where women are viewed as equals, allowed to be independent, to fight, and to participate in decision-making, but finds herself in a realm where women are forced to hide behind veils and even the Queen must rely on hidden corridors just to listen in on the King and his Lords.
As for Anryn and Beatrice, they’re strong characters with backstory, motivation, personality, and conflict. Surrounding them is a cast of allies and enemies, each with their own allegiances (political and magical), most interestingly among them Anryn’s best friend (and rival), his Professor (and mentor), and the witch who saves his life (and reveals his curse). His parents, the King and Queen seem a bit thin for much of the book, more plot devices than people, but we come to understand them and their motives by the end of the story.
The basic plot of Witch King’s Oath is simple – Prince Anryn must get home to be married to Beatrice – but the narrative is anything but. There’s conflict and drama here, plots and schemes and conspiracies, all starting with an assassination attempt and ending with a rapid-fire series of twists that upend so many of our assumptions. I started the book a little wary, struggling with the first few chapters, but I can tell you it’s well worth sticking with because it gets much better fast.
Of course, this being epic fantasy, the story’s not done, there’s at least one more book to come, but the finale here is a climax worthy of the story, and one that (without getting into spoilers) does something really exciting with the question of gender.
To Drive the Hundred Miles is a story that explores gender, gender roles, and gender expectations from some interesting angles. In it, Alec J. Marsh tTo Drive the Hundred Miles is a story that explores gender, gender roles, and gender expectations from some interesting angles. In it, Alec J. Marsh tells the tale of a young man named Will who is returning home for the holidays and all the tense family drama that comes with it.
Will not only comes from a long line of grandmothers, mothers, daughters, aunts, and nieces, he comes from a witch's coven that celebrates the magic and power of femininity. His coming out as a trans man was especially hard for such a family to accept, and he still deals with those who question his identity and can't even bring themselves to call him by his name.
His one saving grace in this visit to small-town Serendipity is a young woman named Bea, a classmate that remembers who he was and accepts who he is. A friendship formed over strained family bonds soon grows into something more, but Will's discomfort with what the town represents, and the memories it holds, means their friendship can never be anything more. Or can it?
I loved everything about this story, from the characters to the setting to the themes to the exploration of ritual and magic. There are so many wonderful connections, and watching Will and Bea come alive through each other is lovely. I wish it handed ended so soon, and would love to read more of their story, but what's here is just about perfect.
I do not care how good your imagination is, whatever you might be expecting from the cover blurb for Middlesex: Powerfully Embodying PanGender, you arI do not care how good your imagination is, whatever you might be expecting from the cover blurb for Middlesex: Powerfully Embodying PanGender, you are not even close. Seriously, not even in the same universe . . . or multiverse . . . or plane of existence.
This was one of the weirdest, trippiest, most surreal, and most beautiful books I have ever read. It is absolutely marvelous, with a truly wonderful (and surprising) approach to spirituality. Seriously, if more people could separate faith from religion, there would be a lot more kinky love in this world, and a lot less hate.
The story that Jessica Mandella has crafted here is almost too much for words. It has rainbow fantasies, sister-wives, polyamorous marriages, Nazi experiments, gender transformations, angels, hippy communes, fallen angels, UFOs, psychic powers, superheroes, and more. I have never had my mind blown quite like this, leaving me stimulated intellectually, emotionally, and physically at the same time. It was one of those books where I had to stop every once in a while to sort of process the inputs and decompress.
I absolutely love what Mandella did with the flexibility of gender and love here, contrasting one woman's forbidden fantasies and learned bigotry with the love, openness, and acceptance inherent in another. What makes us who and what we are is as much spiritual as it is DNA, and both have been perverted over time. At our purest, we are beings of light and joy, entirely malleable, with a potential very few of us even know exists. Middlesex is all about discovering that potential, and embracing who we are beneath all that deception. The exploration of fantasy and sexuality in that process of discovery is so crazy, and so intense, it is has to be experienced to be believed. It is not a preachy story, but it is one that does preach a lot of beautiful ideas - including that of forgiveness.
There is almost too much going on here for one book - drama, romance, science fiction, adventure, erotica - but somehow it all comes together. The pacing is just about perfect, never leaping too far or too fast, allowing the reader to process all of the ideas and accept the natural progression of the story. By the time it gets to its wildest, with a cosmic war involving mass-produced UFO warships piloted by expendable hybrid grays, versus Middlesex superheroes with impenetrable shields of faith, we are cheering the heroes and gleefully enjoying the unimaginable destination which one man's speculative fantasies have led....more
Urban legends, a legacy of evil, witchcraft, an incestuous small town, and a family of naive outsiders. Stir it all together in a cast iron cauldron, Urban legends, a legacy of evil, witchcraft, an incestuous small town, and a family of naive outsiders. Stir it all together in a cast iron cauldron, stoke the flames with a cursed poppet (doll), and turn the lights down low because Catherine Cavendish, Mistress of horror, has a tale to tell . . . and it’s fantastic.
Few genres seem to lend themselves as well to the novella length as horror does, and The Malan Witch is a prime example. There’s some wonderful atmosphere building and necessary background at the start but, beyond that, it’s nonstop heart-pounding horror from beginning to end. There are two unusual pauses, including one jarring moment that will leave you wondering if you’ve missed something, but it’s all in service to the thrills and chills. We’re never so vulnerable as when we’ve let our guard down.
This is a supernatural tale of pure, unrelenting evil. It’s a story of dark possession and even darker confrontation, one that’s full of murderous crows, the inexplicable stench of death, moving shadows, and terrifyingly violent forces. There’s never any question regarding the dead witches behind it all, but there are some nice twists and moments of doubt regarding the living souls who are supposed to be helping. That layer of doubt is what makes the final act of the story so chilling, especially when then there’s so much at stake (no pun intended – the witches were burned on crosses, not stakes).
The Malan Witch ends strong with an explosive climax that’s worthy of the story leading up to it, and then doubles down on the horror and the dread by teasing the lingering taint of evil in the last place we’d wish to find it. Another extraordinary slice of horror from Catherine Cavendish.
"to be a good lawyer you [have] to think like a woman and fuck people like a man"
The Firm Girls is the story of Samantha Layne, a young lawyer from a "to be a good lawyer you [have] to think like a woman and fuck people like a man"
The Firm Girls is the story of Samantha Layne, a young lawyer from a lesbian law firm, with a lesbian roommate, whose first big case involves a lesbian leader of the Satanic Sisterhood of San Francisco, who is suing to place an erotic lesbian monument next to a Nativity Scene on city property. Oh, and it turns out the lesbian law firm has a hard, throbbing secret, one given to them by their long-term client.
With all of that going on, how could I not love this? The legal aspect is probably the most intellectually intriguing aspect, exploring Church versus State through two different cases (there is another to close it out), and the sexual politics within Cabrera & Lee LLP is even more interesting (especially with the reveal of Elsa's gender secrets). This is not just erotica for the sake of porn, it is a smart story that has some really clever aspects to it.
That said, it is erotica, and the sex is absolutely mind-blowing. You see, becoming partner at the firm means becoming futanari as well, and partners are not at all shy about appreciating one another or taking advantage of their staff. Samantha's promotion and ensuing exploration of her newfound sexuality is delicious, and the way it bring the story full circle, resolving the sexual tension with her roommate is entirely satisfying. Oh, and the pantyhose fetish? Yummy!
Elizabeth Ravenswood could have played it simply, getting away with supernatural cliches to explain the transformations, but she plays it smart, adding another layer - that of science versus superstition - to the story. As for the promise of future instalment, the law firm is fun, but I really want to know more about Luciana and the Sisterhood. Regardless, I am excited for more.
This is one book that I'd intended all month to be a Halloween feature review, but I languished over it for so long, reading every detail, that I ran This is one book that I'd intended all month to be a Halloween feature review, but I languished over it for so long, reading every detail, that I ran out of time to do it justice. Alternating between historical and contemporary Scotland, the book takes a hard look at politics, media, religion, and society while telling a tale of revenge and rebellion, some 600 years in the making.
What made this work so well for me was really two things. The first is the portrayal of witches throughout history, scapegoats for the church who may actually have come into their power because of the persecution. The second is the way Patterson tackles the twin concepts of justice and revenge, laying out a pattern of abuse against women that infuriates us, and which seduces us into approving of the cruelties inflicted in the name of making amends.
Dark, uncomfortable stuff, but entirely captivating.
Disclaimer: I received a complimentary copy of this title from the author in exchange for review consideration. This does not in any way affect the honesty or sincerity of my review.
All The Murmuring Bones was an odd read, a story I went into with high expectations, only to struggle with the first quarter of the story, before findAll The Murmuring Bones was an odd read, a story I went into with high expectations, only to struggle with the first quarter of the story, before finding my way into the heart of the story before the end. A.G. Slatter weaves three very different threads together, a family drama, Gothic mystery, and paranormal fantasy in a story that's heaviest on the first and lightest on the latter - which is where my struggle came in.
The characters are rather cold, sometimes unlikeable, but their story . . . their history . . . their mystery . . . that's the reason to keep reading. Miren, the protagonist, is the last daughter of a family with magical ties to the sea, a young woman trapped between honoring ancient deals and breaking free of them. I think I would have enjoyed the story more had I liked her more, had I cared for her enough to become as invested in her struggle as the Gothic mystery, but she's serviceable enough to keep the story moving.
Despite my issues with Miren, the Gothic mystery made for a fantastic read, full of twists and turns, abrupt shifts in tone, and surprising slides deeper into darkness. It's oddly paced, with prolonged lulls between the more action-packed scenes, but it all pays off in the end. The atmosphere is perfectly fitting, and what we do see of the merpeople is intriguing - not to mention creepy and unsettling.
Well-written with a strong narrative and fantastic atmosphere, All The Murmuring Bones is a good read that, for me, would have been great had it delved deeper into the magical faery tale elements. That's a personal preference, though, and different readers with different tastes may find that slide to great easier.
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