If this book has a secret weapon, it’s the characters. The main crew is so charming it’s almost unfair. Viv, the battle-worn orc deciding she’s had enough of stabbing things and would rather make lattes, is a fantastic lead. Tandri, the artistic succubus with a quiet confidence that balances Viv’s “bull in a china shop” energy, adds a satisfying emotional core. Their relationship? Chef’s kiss. Then there’s Cal, the no-nonsense hob carpenter who might actually be made of wood himself, but in an endearing way. Thimble, the anxious ratkin baker, is adorable, and Pendry, the bard who starts the book as a walking ball of self-doubt, actually gets an arc (imagine that). Even the side characters, like the slightly chaotic neighbor Laney and the time-bending gnome Durias, add extra flavor. The only ones who drop the ball? The villains. Fennus and the Madrigal are about as threatening as a soggy biscuit. Conflict exists, sure, but real stakes? Not so much.

Welcome to Thune, a perfectly fine, if somewhat generic, fantasy town. There’s nothing revolutionary here, but what is here works because Baldree knows how to make details sing. The café? Absolutely the beating heart of this book. The transformation from sad, abandoned stable to bustling community hub is genuinely satisfying. The descriptions of coffee brewing and pastries? So vivid you’ll be irrationally mad that you can’t reach into the book and grab a cinnamon roll. The broader world, though? A little thin. Thune itself isn’t particularly memorable, and while there are cool magical hints (hello, Durias and your bizarre relationship with time), they mostly stay in the background.

Baldree’s writing is smooth, engaging, and refreshingly easy to read. No unnecessary frills, no pretentious monologues—just cozy, well-paced storytelling with dialogue that actually sounds like people talking. He’s nailed the balance between introspection, action, and charm. But (and there’s always a but), the low-stakes nature of the book means that sometimes things feel too smooth. If you’re looking for white-knuckle tension, you’re in the wrong café. That said, what the book lacks in nail-biting suspense, it more than makes up for in warmth and heart.

An ex-mercenary opens a coffee shop in a world that doesn’t know what coffee is? That’s a concept with built-in entertainment value. And for the most part, it delivers. Watching Viv and her crew build the café from the ground up is honestly more compelling than it has any right to be. The business-building aspect? Oddly gripping. The actual conflicts? Ehh. The Madrigal’s protection racket is about as intimidating as a neighborhood HOA dispute, and Fennus? He’s your standard bitter ex-colleague with the depth of a kiddie pool. However, the final twist about the Scalvert’s Stone—that it doesn’t bring fortune but instead attracts similar people—is a surprisingly touching payoff.

No, this isn’t a high-stakes, edge-of-your-seat thriller. But is it engaging? Absolutely. Viv’s journey is one you want to see unfold, mostly because the characters are so damn likable. The budding romance between Viv and Tandri adds an extra emotional hook, and even though the stakes are lower than a limbo contest, the character dynamics keep things interesting. That said, sometimes the obstacles feel too easy to overcome. Would a little more tension have hurt? Probably not.

The relationships in this book just work. Viv and Tandri’s growing connection is written with a subtlety that makes it feel organic rather than forced. The found family aspect? Peak comfort read material. Each character brings something unique to the table, and their interactions feel authentic. The only real eyebrow-raiser? The coffee economy. Introducing a brand-new commodity to a fantasy town should be way more of a cultural shock than it is. But hey, this isn’t an economics textbook, and the reveal about the Scalvert’s Stone ties everything together nicely, reinforcing the book’s whole “community over luck” message.

Did I love reading this? Yes. Was it a cozy, feel-good escape from reality? Also yes. It’s the fantasy equivalent of curling up under a blanket with a hot drink—it’s warm, it’s comforting, and it makes you want to stay a while. If you’re here for action-packed battles, look elsewhere. But if you enjoy stories about small victories, great friendships, and the surprisingly cutthroat world of fantasy café startups, this is a must-read.