booksamongstfriends's reviews
738 reviews

Who doesn’t love a good vampire story? Well how about a collection of em!

Vampires Never Get Old is a young adult vampire anthology with a fresh bite indeed. I love how the title explores the way readers and watchers keep vampires and their mythos alive. This is a book that offers a mixed bag of stories, as is often the case with collections featuring different authors. It’s hard to get a five-star read with such variety, but that’s also what I enjoy about short stories. They introduce you to new voices, offer fresh perspectives, and even highlight authors whose work you might already know but want to explore further.

Out of the 11 stories in this anthology, four really stood out to me:

The House of Black Sapphires
In Kind
A Guide For The Newly Sired Desi Vampire
The Boy and The Bell

That’s not to say there weren’t other enjoyable moments, but these stories just hit a little harder for me.

When I started reading, I didn’t expect classic Gothic vibes or traditional depictions of vampirism. Instead, I anticipated modern takes on vampires, fresh spins on the stereotypes, and perspectives we haven’t seen much before—and that’s exactly what I got. Expectations can definitely shape how we experience a book, so I try not to let mine overshadow my reviews or reflections. For this one, I’d say it delivered what it promised.

Sure, there were moments that felt a little disappointing, but there were also moments that left me intrigued enough to want to explore certain authors’ catalogs further. Overall, this is a solid 3.5/5 collection with enough variety to keep readers engaged.

6 stars honestly. When I closed Rooted, I immediately thought: Now that’s what I’m talking about! This is a book that I can’t detail too much here because you simply need to read it yourself. I highly recommend checking out the pages I photographed, but there are countless moments in this book that deserve deep discussion and even more worth quoting and shouting from the rooftops.

My expectations for this book were high, and Baker not only met them but completely surpassed them. I would love to see this book incorporated into educational curriculums to spark meaningful conversations. It doesn’t just provide a history of systemic oppression through the theft of land from Black and Indigenous people—it also lays the groundwork for how we can move forward. Baker emphasizes the magic and power of prioritizing community and rethinking the systems that have intentionally severed minorities’ connections to land and to one another.

This book is a must-read, and I can’t recommend it enough. I borrowed a copy from the library, but I can’t wait to add it to my personal library—and trust me, I’ll be highlighting the hell out of it. I also listened to the audiobook and loved hearing Baker’s passion as she narrated her work. There’s something so powerful about hearing an author’s voice, especially when they’re speaking on a topic that demands passion and dedication.

This book will inspire you to advocate for change and become more informed about these critical issues. I could honestly talk about Rooted for days, but instead, I’ll say this: go to your local bookstore, library, or wherever you get your books, add this one to your cart or tote, and read it. Then come back and talk to me, because this is a book I’ll be recommending and discussing constantly moving forward.

3.5 rounded up. I’ll start by saying, this book will not be for everyone. For the first time in a while, I picked up a book labeled as “darkly comedic,” and it truly delivered. Satire is notoriously tricky to pull off, as humor varies so widely, and the choice to approach certain topics satirically may not go over well. This book delves into identity, specifically biracial identity, and the complex dynamics of creation, assimilation, and exploitation in the entertainment field. It’s set against the Hollywood backdrop, exploring not just the creative process itself, but the sacrifices and compromises required to create something deemed “entertaining”—and the difficult question of who the intended audience truly is.

The story centers on Jane, an author who’s been struggling for years and finally believes she has something meaningful to share. Alongside her creative pursuits, she grapples with balancing motherhood, partnership, and friendship. By no means is Jane likable—and that’s the point. None of the characters are particularly sympathetic; each has flaws that turn you off. The discomfort is intentional, forcing readers to confront and question their perceptions.

This was a biting commentary on racial identity, questioning an American Dream born in white proximity, and the complicity of some BIPOC individuals in upholding systems of whiteness. It examines the exploitative dynamics of wealth, the white gaze, and the compromises people make to “succeed.” The satire feels bold and intentional, unafraid to make readers uncomfortable. At times, I laughed out loud at the sharp, abrasive humor—moments that feel both shocking and truthful.

Admittedly, the pacing was an issue for me at first. The beginning felt slow, almost like yet another family backstory, but as the narrative progressed, the satirical moments and insights picked up, keeping me engaged. While I initially leaned toward a 3-star rating, the intentionality and humor pushed me to 3.5 stars.

I’ve seen reviews from people disappointed by the pacing or expecting a story that would let them step into someone else’s racial experience. Let me be clear: this is not that book. If you’re looking to learn about other races or identities, pick up nonfiction. Colored Television is 100% satirical fiction, with threads of reality woven in to amplify its message.

This book challenges perceptions, stirs controversy, and confronts its audience. If you’re open to that discomfort, it’s absolutely worth reading—and no surprise that it’s a book club pick. I’ve seen it compared to Yellowface, which makes me even more excited to read that one soon!

If you don’t know much about the Philadelphia MOVE bombing or the MOVE movement, I highly recommend reading On A Move by Mike Africa Jr. This book offers a rare and deeply personal account of these events, particularly significant because so many MOVE members have passed away, been imprisoned, or disappeared since the movement’s most active years.

This is not an exhaustive exploration of the MOVE bombing itself, but rather an emotive narrative of a child’s experience growing up Black in a time when Blackness and Black identity were constantly criminalized, watched, and judged. It’s also a story of a child born into MOVE, navigating the expectations of both society and the organization. The book offers an emotional perspective on loss—parents, friends, siblings—and the anguish of watching loved ones imprisoned, as well as the hope and joy of their eventual return.

That said, if you’re looking for a book that fully captures the breadth of the MOVE bombing and its aftermath, this isn’t quite it. I’ve read another book on this subject, but it often felt as though the author was justifying the actions of the police—a stance I find unacceptable. There is no excuse for what happened that day.

It’s a reminder that whether or not one agrees with MOVE’s philosophies or actions, violence is never the answer. As we see today, white nationalist groups openly commit acts of violence, harass people at marches, and more, yet they aren’t facing similar threats. That’s why it’s no surprise there’s a book out there trying to justify the targeting of a Black organization.

Sadly, we may never have the full story of what happened that day. However, I deeply appreciate Mike Africa Jr. for putting his feelings, thoughts, and experiences into words. His account sheds light on the pain of loss, the strength of resilience, and the importance of finding and honoring one’s identity.

This is a topic I believe everyone should learn about, and it should be taught in schools. Unfortunately, if it ever were, it would likely be sanitized or distorted. Books like this are vital for filling in the gaps, shining a light on the history we aren’t taught, and pushing us to question why that is.

OK, OK, I get the Freida McFadden hype now! This was my first time finishing one of her books, and I have to say, I’m hooked. I’ve started a few of her other works but never got through them—just a mood thing—but now I’m ready to dive into her entire catalog. While I’ve heard that The Boyfriend isn’t considered her “best” by longtime fans, I found it super enjoyable.

McFadden does an excellent job balancing thriller, mystery, messy characters, and dark humor in this book. One thing I appreciate is her commitment to the bit: the entire premise is about throwing the reader off the scent, and she does this with such flair. The description, the pacing, and the chapter setups all lend themselves to a lingering sense of predictability—until she completely pulls the rug out from under you. It’s playful, unpredictable, and consistently entertaining.

The story follows Sydney Shaw, a single woman struggling to find a real connection in the dating world. Enter Tom, a mysterious doctor who seems too good to be true. But Tom has secrets, and when Sydney’s cop ex-boyfriend warns her that a serial killer is on the loose, suspicions begin to mount. Suddenly, it feels like everyone is after Sydney—but not in the way she wanted.

What makes this story fun is how McFadden uses Sydney’s own gullibility to toy with the reader. Sydney literally says, “Well, it can’t be this person, right?” and you’re sitting there thinking, “Sydney, YES, it could totally be them!” It’s hilarious, frustrating, and keeps you glued to the page. Tom, too, is a layered character whose kindness and naivety mask darker truths.

Told through dual timelines and dual perspectives, the story flips between Sydney in the present and Tom’s backstory. Without giving too much away, Tom’s past feels so obvious once the twist comes, but McFadden writes it in a way that’s easy to overlook. He’s portrayed as an outsider with an abusive father, deeply in love with a local girl, Daisy, who happens to be the sheriff’s daughter. As bodies pile up in the past and the present, Tom becomes the thread tying it all together.

One thing I loved about this book was the simplicity of the killer’s motive: pure obsession. There’s no elaborate reasoning or tragic backstory here—just someone fixated on getting what they want, willing to take out anyone in their way. This straightforward motive made it easier for McFadden to cast doubt on multiple characters, keeping readers guessing until it was right in your face.

This was such a fun read, and I’m excited to pick up more of McFadden’s work. If you’re into thrillers with twists, suspense, and a bit of dark humor, this is one to check out!

This book grew on me! Solid 3.5 star read.

Let’s start with what stood out: I really enjoyed the cultural depth and folklore woven into the story. Lin creates relatable characters, especially within Ruby, whose experiences as the eldest daughter can resonate deeply with many readers. Particularly for readers from diverse cultural or minority backgrounds. A lot of people can emphasize and directly understand Ruby’s role as an older sibling and example —masking her emotions and performing for everyone’s needs. Though outside of her character, I found Ruby’s efforts to save her siblings from dark forces more interesting. Her journey is one of regaining control in many ways, but also one that will spark conversation around family ties and expectations.

A large of aspect of this book that I’m sure readers will enjoy is the nostalgic choice of setting paired with fantastical and mythical elements. Lin uses them to further connect the reader to Ruby’s experiences simultaneously shining a line on the variety of methods one can fall prey—as we see with her sister.

Upon reflection I liked this read more than I initially did when finishing. I appreciated the authors choices, but it wasn’t without its challenges. The pacing was slow at times, with moments that dragged enough for me to almost DNF the book. The romance subplot also felt rushed and unnecessary—it was too predictable for my taste, though I’m sure other readers might enjoy rooting for it.

While the story is engaging overall, I wish it had leaned further into the horror elements. Much of the tension came from paranormal moments tied to the mythos, which were compelling but didn’t quite deliver the scares I was hoping for. That said, the author does a fantastic job capturing the emotional complexity of grieving someone who’s still alive—watching them change into someone else and grappling with the sacrifices required to protect both them and yourself during that process. Isn’t that sisterhood? lol

Ultimately, this is a coming-of-age tale rooted in family bonds, enriched by fantastical and folkloric elements that made it entertaining and, at times, captivating. While not perfect, it’s a story I think many will enjoy.

Did I enjoy this read? Definitely. At the same time, it’s one of those books where, upon reflection, nothing about it feels particularly groundbreaking. That said, there were aspects that stood out. For instance, the podcast elements— which can be hit or miss— worked well for me. The reader and the podcast are given a simultaneous access to information for that created a synchronized flow of discovery and sleuthing. I preferred this, as I didn’t have to wait for the podcast scenes to unearth new information or solve the case. Though this made the ending frustrating, it also better aligned with the use of the podcast throughout the book. The podcast’s limitations meant the reader held more knowledge than the hosts, which added an interesting layer of engagement in the end.

However, there are repetitive elements in the story. The male characters, for example, are universally untrustworthy. While this is undoubtedly intentional to cast doubt and illustrate the many ways predatory behavior impacts young girls and the ripple effects of one’s actions—it felt somewhat predictable. While told in dual timeline and various perspectives, it doesn’t do enough to mask the killer. Once the reader is introduced to the killer is become pretty easy to wonder and further deduce their motive. Though some may find it shocking, others— including myself— might think it’s shockingly obvious.

Despite some flaws I found, the book’s focus on the secrets and lives of young women on college campuses—and the harm they endure—is poignant. The story primarily follows the perspectives of four women, with the narrative centered on Lindsey, the last missing girl’s younger sister, as she seeks answers twenty-four years later. The other perspectives, especially Jessica’s, explore the connections between the girls, how they were preyed upon, and the ripple effects of one person’s actions on an entire community.

As I mentioned the podcast’s ending fits perfectly with how the author structured the narrative, though it was also irritating. It felt as though the story was attempting to justify one action while minimizing the gravity of what the killer did. Even so, the book is worth reading deciding how you feel by its end.

The Afterdark is an immersive and captivating queer gothic horror that blends mystery, romance, and a simmering sense of unease. From the moment I started, I was pulled into the story and wouldn’t put it down. With its gothic academia setting, the constant eerie presence of the woods, and the layered secrets of Northcroft School, this book perfectly captures the tension of something lurking just beneath the surface.

The story alternates between the perspectives of Evie Laurent, a twin whose sister Ada has just drowned, and Holland Morgan, a fellow student with a mysterious pull toward Evie. The chapters are mostly brisk effortlessly transitioning paces. Latimer’s writing ensures there are no wasted moments—every scene, no matter how quiet or chaotic, serves to drive the story forward. From the start, Evie is shrouded in darkness—there’s a brewing sense that something is waiting to consume her, and as a reader, you’re never sure how far she’ll go or what she might unleash. Holland’s perspective adds another layer, as their instant connection with Evie is both magnetic and foreboding. Their relationship is raw, obsessive, and protective, as they navigate both their desire for each other and the dangers surrounding them.

Northcroft is filled with a cast of characters, all carrying secrets that heighten the book’s intrigue. I loved the tangible, almost unsettling energy of the supporting characters. They felt real, flawed, and essential to the story. I also appreciated that the story gradually peeled back layers, keeping me constantly learning something new about them.

One of the book’s strongest aspects is its balance of genres. It’s not overwhelmingly horrifying, which makes it approachable for readers who shy away from traditional horror, and the romance is woven into the plot without overshadowing the narrative. It’s a good blend that explores themes of obsession, betrayal, sacrifice, first love, and self-discovery.

If you enjoy young adult books that blend obsession, horror, romance, and gothic mystery, this is one you shouldn’t miss. It’s a thrilling and haunting exploration of desire, secrets, and the lengths people will go to protect or destroy what they love.