Nettle & Bone, by T. Kingfisher

T. Kingfisher is so good at writing “subverted fairy tales;” her stories turn the standard tropes inside-out and examine them with a critical eye. Marra, third daughter of the king, has watched both her older sisters get married off to the cruel prince of the much more powerful neighboring kingdom one after another; deciding that this is unsustainable, she sets off to do whatever she can to rescue the remaining sister, despite the powerful blessing of the prince’s fairy godmother. I loved the characters; Marra’s determination contrasts well with the resigned world-weariness of the various witches, heroes, and fairy godmothers, and her mother and sister are also really interesting in their motivations and decisions. Great commentary on the lack of agency of women in traditional fairytales, and how they find ways to exert their power anyway.

Slaying Monsters for the Feeble, by Annette Marie, read by Cris Dukehart

Second in Marie’s “Demonized” series, but really ninth in her linked series of books: this one is from the perspective of Robin Page, the shy, awkward nerd who would rather bury herself in books and baking than deal with the fact that she’s accidentally made a highly illegal contract with a demon. Her flinching cowardice gets old quickly (even though it’s totally how I would react in similar situations) but it’s refreshing how everyone, from her assertive cousin to her combat-trained guildmates to her demon Zylas, does their best to try to help her overcome her fears and prepare for challenges. The layers of secrets that she keeps from different audiences is complex and exhausting for the reader as well as for her, but it’s fun to watch her (nervously) chase down leads in search of the answers she needs.

A Thousand Beginnings and Endings: 16 Retellings of Asian Myths and Legends, ed. Ellen Oh and Elsie Chapman

This was a really neat collection. Each short story is followed by an explanation of the myth or legend that inspired it. Some authors retell a story but in a different time and place (“The Land of the Morning Calm” by E.C. Myers, which injects Korean ghosts into an MMORPG), while others latch onto a tiny detail and expand it (“Spear Carrier” by Rahul Kanakia, which imagines an entire life for a battlefield redshirt). I don’t know a lot of the stories in Asian mythologies, and really enjoyed reading both the stories and the background segments that explained the original myths.

Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food and Love, ed. Elsie Chapman and Caroline Tung Richmond

The connection between these short stories is that they all take place on Hungry Hearts Row, a neighborhood of restaurants featuring very different cuisines and very different stories. There’s some interplay between characters but only enough to unify the scene. Only a couple of the stories take the prompt literally and use food to bring characters together romantically; others were about relating to estranged family through food, or using food as a way to make peace with one’s past. I particularly liked the ones that were more out of left field, like the one where the Chinese restaurant was actually an integral part of a gang war, or the one where the Muslim superhero literally fell out of the sky in front of a food cart. Some duds, but a strong collection overall; I appreciated the wide variety of ethnicities and cultures represented in both the foods and the stories.

The Alchemist and an Amaretto, by Annette Marie, read by Cris Dukehart

Oh man after four books of comparatively lighthearted urban fantasy, and then after 75% of a book being spent mainly on trivia like Tori trying hard not to be impressed by her friend’s parents’ magic school (basically Hogwarts, but for privileged combat sorcerors), and doing a little bit of werewolf hunting, the plot suddenly hammers Tori (and the poor reader) with a huge emotional bomb. Over the preceding books Marie had been dropping hints and gradually ramping up the tension and urgency around this issue, but the revelation at the end of this book abruptly turns things up to 11. Dukehart does such a great job with the narration too, her Tori switching between indignation and vulnerability. I’ve been trying to pace myself with this series, and it was a fight for me not to instantly run off and download the next. (This is why I dislike rating individual books – the plot of this particular book was pretty standard, but its effect on the overall series is huge.)

The Blade Between, by Sam J. Miller

This is a dark ghost story about the gentrification of a small town, the lives of those negatively affected by it, and how the spirits of the town start fighting back. Ronan Szepessy finds himself returning to Hudson despite the terrible experience of growing up gay and artistic in the small, closed-minded town; when he sees his old neighbors evicted from their homes and developers closing in like sharks, the depth of his hate allows the ghosts of the town to sink their hooks into the citizens, spreading horror and violence. It’s a tough book to read; Ronan is bitter and angry, as are all his fellow citizens both corporeal and not, and there’s not really any light moment to ease the tension. I think this book had urgent things to say about gentrification and how it can kill the spirit of a small town, but it gets drowned in all the violence and weirdness.

Hellbound Guilds and Other Misdirections, by Annette Marie and Rob Jacobsen, read by Iggy Toma

This is the second book from the perspective of Kit Morris, the reformed criminal, police officer in training, and nonstop snark factory. This time Kit finds himself going up against actual demons, who are immune to his psychic magic; he’s also getting nowhere trying to get closer to his partner, the incredibly kickass and unimpressed Agent Lienna Shen. Both Kit and Lienna suffer from a bad case of “won’t ask for help when they really should,” which is annoying to me as a reader; Kit is a loner but Lienna should know better. Toma’s narration remains light and sardonic throughout, which works really well, and his falsetto rendition of Lienna is much less annoying than before.

Archangel, by Sharon Shinn

#1 of the Samaria series, recommended to me by E and such an amazing read. The angel Gabriel has been tapped by Jovah to be the next Archangel, and must find his angelica (spouse) before the people of Samaria gather together to sing the Gloria. Gabriel dutifully goes to the oracle, who consults Jovah (by typing at a computer terminal!) and points him to a human woman named Rachel. Gabriel is startled to find Rachel enslaved; once freed, she is less than enthusiastic about the concept of marrying him at all, much less singing the praises of a god that allowed her people to be slain and herself to be sold into slavery. Though there are tantalizing hints that the world was originally engineered by technologically advanced settlers, the heart of the story is in the characters: Gabriel is righteous and impatient, whereas Rachel is stubborn and proud, and you really feel for both of them. I loved the worldbuilding too, which features a multi-racial, multicultural landscape full of political and economic tensions, which also reflects the tension between the two main characters. I really liked the ending, which brought resolution to the relationship without compromising either character. Looking forward to the rest of the series (and also further explanation of how this world came to be).

Wild Magic, by Tamora Pierce

I introduced the kid to Pierce’s Song of the Lioness series; once he polished that one off, he attacked the next one and asked that I read it as well. Wild Magic begins the next quartet of books, this one focused on Daine, a girl who can speak with animals (though not necessarily convince them to do what she wants). Daine has a traumatic origin story, and Pierce does a good job handling her subsequent trust issues without ever making her into a victim.

Demon Magic and a Martini, by Annette Marie, read by Cris Dukehart

Eemotional drama finally hits this lighthearted series as a demon attack drags secrets into the open, and Tori is forced to reckon with how far she is willing to go to protect her friends. (Answer: extremely far.) Her usual snarky attitude remains firmly in place, which helps to move the story along without things getting too heavy. I also like how firmly this series is set in Vancouver; when demon attacks threatened the cobblestone streets of Gastown, I was able to picture the scene very well.