gabberjaws's reviews
549 reviews

It was super duper ballsy of the marketing team to compare this book to The Bear and The Nightingale and Spinning Silver. Incredibly brave! Awe-inspiringly gutsy! Do I commend them for their tenacity? Yes? Do I hate them because they fucking led me on? Also, yes.

I kind of understand why they did it. I do. This book is trying so hard to be like both those other books, that it’s kind of embarrassing. It tries to match TBaTN’s sweeping, lyrical prose. It tries to match Spinning Silver’s competent, engaging self-contained storytelling. But it falls short on both accounts – so the writing is purple prose-y in a way that’s not very pleasant (it reminded me of Roshani Chokshi’s writing circa Star-Touched Queen) and the structure of the story was extremely choppy and clumsy.

The first two chapters weren’t too bad, but it becomes very clear very fast that this book really only cared about two things: 1) The romance and b) All the lore that the author wrote up for this story and loved so much that she simply had to shoehorn. all of it. in.

Like, listen. We all write too much lore and backstory for our characters and their worlds. Some of us just have the good sense to know that not everything needs to make it into the finished product. You can’t just have your main characters stop what they’re doing to tell a random-ass story every other paragraph. You can’t. Stop it.

I think I wouldn’t have been so harsh with this book if it had been YA – because I’m doing a thing, you see, where I acknowledge that I’m not the target audience and some things that work for YA audiences might not work for me, an adult woman. This book felt like it was written as a YA book – a babied down watery YA book, sure, but a YA book all the same – but was switched to an adult book at the last minute because the author wanted to shove some seggs in there.

I could go on about how much I disliked this book and how much of a chore it was to read. But much like I couldn’t bring myself to pick it up anymore, I can’t bring myself to talk about it anymore. I just can’t stop being mad about this thing being compared to The Bear and The Nightingale and Spinning Silver. It is, quite frankly, insulting. 

 Just to be clear; I'll still read anything Silvia Moreno-Garcia puts out. I just don't think this was her best work.

Velvet was the Night is set in 1970s, during the Mexican Dirty War, and follows the stories of Maite and Elvis. A secretary and Los Halcones member respectively, their stories become entwined when Maite's neighbour, an art student named Leonara goes missing, along with some potentially incriminating photos.

The premise was great. The political background and setting was brilliant. But nothing quite... gelled well together. The biggest issue for me is that I couldn't root for either of the characters. Maite was unlikable - which is usually something I can get behind. Heroines don't always need to be good and kind and likeable. But apart from her vapidness and her general unhappiness with her life, Maite had nothing else to offer us - and her character arc went pretty much nowhere. She had no goals. No aspirations. She didn't even stick her nose into Leonara's disappearance because she wanted to. She was just... along for the ride. I found Elvis a little easier to root for but not by much. I also didn't understand their "romance". At all.

It would have been one thing if this novel followed the usual noir trope and had the two of them working together for most of the mystery, but Maite and Elvis only met each other towards the end of the book. The romance had zero foundation and made no sense.

Another issue was that great premise aside, nothing really happened in this book. I think this whole story would have shined if Moreno-Garcia had leaned into the political aspects of it - put the characters in actual danger. Solidified that hey, this is actually pretty serious. But, we never even found out what the photos were, or why they were so important. El Mago's interest in Leonara was obvious from the very first time he put Elvis on the case, and cemented the minute Maite went to visit Leonara's sister. Maite said it herself at the end of the book, "all this fuss for nothing".

With that, at least, Maite and I are in agreement. 

FIRST THING'S FIRST: Yes, I did read the second book in this series before I read the first and, yes, the fake dating aspect is what got me interested. I have ZERO REGRETS.

I loved this so much. It was sweet, fun and wholesome and thoroughly captivating - I speed read it in the course of a day. Zaf and Dani's relationship was SO sweet and real, with none of the excessive drama and miscommunications that I usually detest in romance novels or romance subplots. Zaf is my favourite kind of hero in that he's a built like a truck but is a sweet little puppy on the inside. A rugby player in touch with his feelings who loves romance novels? Take my whole fucking heart whydontcha. And Dani. Oh lord I loved her so much. The wit. The brains. The confidence. She could step on me and I'd thank her.

As someone who has gone throug almost exactly what Dani had been through in her past relationships, I've gotta say that I thought Hibbert handled it really well. From Dani's fears and insecurities (super relatable btw) to her unwillingness to commit to someone lest she be hurt again. Zaf and Dani's journey felt so... real. And grounded. It presented a really healthy relationship with boundaries and communications. Two people with their own goals, but who loved each other and, more importantly imo, liked each other as individuals and were willing to respect each others boundaries without compromising their own. So lovely.

Zaf and Dani's wit, as well as the banter between the two of them was also top-notch. Hibbert mentioned in her acknowledgments that the witter zingers were a pain to write, and I just wanna take this moment to thank her for her hard work on this because they were excellent, and had me laughing out loud more times than I could count.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've gotta go read the rest of this series. 

What a lovely little surprise.

I picked The Body in The Garden up on on a lark and was pleasantly surprised by how much I ended up liking this. This was super cozy and easy to read, and I found myself not only breezing through this, but also reaching for my kindle every time I could spare a few minutes during work lulls and reading as much as I could fit in during my little breaks. Not un-putdownable, but definitely engaging enough to keep me wanting more. I wanted the sequel the instant I finished reading this.

As far as mysteries go the one this book dealt with wasn't especially complex and I did have a pretty strong idea who the murderer was pretty early on, but the clues were spaced out really well, and I had a fun time following the mystery along as the case unraveled. We learned things as the characters did, and except for one moment towards the end, no revelation was ever withheld from us. And I can't even fault that one instance too much, because if you had a memory for details, you'd have figured out what Adler's big "Oh" moment was.

All in all, I found this really enjoyable. It feels like the author really did her research on the locations and time periods and the customs of this era. And I do love that she made this a diverse novel - especially since regency novels are a genre where you'd be unsurprised by the whole cast being predominantly white. I loved that two of the main characters were biracial, that their othering by society was commented on, and that . I, personally, thought it was handled well.

My only critique is that the characters, especially Lily, didn't seem to have a lot of depth to them? But that's something I'm hoping will be fixed in future books. I also wasn't a giant fan of how we were introduced to Captain Hartley? It felt a tad rushed and flimsy, but it's a minor complaint. 

No, I was not kidding when I said I needed the sequel as soon as I finished The Body in The Garden, and I am pleased to announce that this book did I what I was hoping it would and built upon the foundations set in book 1.

Silence in the Library was as charming and cozy as its predecessor, if not more. The mystery was a little more complex (but not overly so, it's still a cozy mystery after all). The clues were still spaced out incredibly well, no aha moments and information were withheld, and we continued to learn things as the characters did.

What pleased me the most about this book was that Lily's personality was a little more developed this time. I loathe her father and he's a character I'd rather not see for few books, but watching Lily navigate her strained relationship with him gave her a touch of humanness that she was missing in the first book. It was also really lovely to see that she was even less infallible in this book than she was in The Body in The Garden. Her sympathies and own experiences clouded her judgement quite a few times, and she required the guidance and insights of her friends (yes, Captain Hartley and Ofelia are back) to solve this case properly. You love to see it.

Schellmen's push for diversity in this regency series has not gone unnoticed by me. She did not stop at having POC peppered into the cast, but introduces characters who are on the spectrum in this book. And I personally think she handled it very respectfully and delicately, especially with presenting Autism during a time where it wasn't very well understood. As always, don't take my word for it; please listen to Autistic People when they talk about the portrayal of Autistic characters.

But yeah, I think this is a series I'll definitely be happy to stick with. It's not overly demanding, it's engaging, it's comforting, and it's a pleasure to read. What's not to like? 

When I first read this a year ago, it was the first Moreno-Garcia book I'd picked up. Now, having read Gods of Jade and Shadow, and Velvet was the Night I've realized that there's a... formalness to her writing that lends itself so well to this specific kind of novel than it does to any other genre that I've seen from her so far. It's a writing style that works so beautifully with this slow-build, creeping dread, plot-driven horror that's set in the past - and it's probably why this is my favorite Moreno-Garcia book.

Set in the Mexican countryside in the 1950s, Mexican Gothic immerses you deeply into its time period from the very first page. The main character is a socialite whose parents want her to get married and settle down into the only role they think a respectable young woman should have; a housewife. Noemi? She wants to study anthropology in college. So when Noemi's cousin Catalina sends a concerning letter home, Noemi's concerned father asks her to go visit and make sure Catalina is safe amongst her new family, and in return, he'll let her go to college. Noemi doesn't even think to say no.

Thus begins Noemi's journey to the High Place, and into the lair of the mysterious, secretive, and hostile Doyles.

I don't quite know how to explain how much I enjoyed this book. It felt so familiar and yet so fresh and new at the same time. "Woman Goes to A Haunted House to Save Someone She Loves and Is Treated Terribly by its Inhabitants" is a trope we've seen time and time again, but Moreno- Garcia found a way to take this trope to some new weird places that made it so wholly unique.

I mean, mushrooms that bond with a certain kind of person and then prolong your life, collect your memories and tie you to their breeding ground???? Who'd have THUNK!

And this might not be a very popular opinion, but I ADORE horror that's weird; and between the parallels to The Yellow Wallpaper and Crimson Peak, as well as Mexican Gothic's own creepy, weird newness, this checked a lot of boxes for me.

I liked Noemi. She was vain, and a little spoiled and kind of rude and she made for such an interesting heroine - especially with the themes of white supremacy in this book. This was a woman who knew her worth. She was going to take any of the White Nonsense. She wasn't going to take the Cis Man nonsense, either. I found it really refreshing to see a heroine that refused to be gaslit into thinking herself inferior for the colour of her skin or for her gender. She wasn't a badass Buffy-type hero who was able to punch her way out of the horror story, and she questioned a lot, but she never once doubted her worth or who she was, and considering the mind games she was up against, I found that admirable.

I even liked Francis, who could be written off as a weak cowardly character who only stepped up because he got a crush. It took me a while to see it, I'm not going to lie, but somewhere down the line I realized it wasn't as simple as Boy Gets Crush and Grows a Conscience, but something a little more nuanced and complicated. Man falls in love and realizes maybe there's something to live for and this doesn't HAVE to be his future, more like. Fucking chef's kiss, man.

Anyway, yeah, this was great. Even having read only 3 of her books I'm willing to bet this is her best one. I can definitely see myself picking this up when I'm in the mood for weird, haunting atmosphere. If that's your jam, definitely check this out. 

I think what's been disappointing me the most about this series so far is that it has potential. No, really. A young woman training to be a forensic scientist in the Victorian era, and stopping serial killers with the help of her socially inept, but brilliant and charming, partner? Such delicious potential. But unfortunately the writing doesn't quite do the premise justice.

I was hoping to enjoy this one more than I did the first book, but I don't think I did. It wasn't unbearable, don't get me wrong. Like I said, the premise of these books really is solid and makes for an interesting read. But once again, the killer's identity was fairly obvious, and the writing too often chooses to focus on how Special Audrey Rose is, and on hers and Thomas' relationship, that it forgets the plot sometimes. There's no real sense of urgency or danger either; their fellow students are dropping like flies, but we never really feel like Audrey Rose and Thomas are in any jeopardy. The emotional component is just... severely lacking tbh.

(I'm also not a big fan of the "Victorian/Regency era woman wears pants and therefore she is the Most Feminist" cliche, but that's a minor peeve)

It's still kinda entertaining enough that I think I still might stick with this and read the rest of the series, but it's on thin ice. 

 My favorite thing about T. Kingfisher's novel The Twisted Ones was that it had so much heart . So, when I went into this, I was hoping for the same - and man oh man did Kingfisher deliver.

The Hollow Places follows Kara - aka Carrot - a newly divorced freelance graphic designer who let her ex have the house and desperately needs a place to stay that ISN'T with her mother. When Carrot's Uncle Earl offers to let her stay at his Museum (think Gruncle Stan's Mystery Shack, but a much nicer Gruncle Stan) and run it while he gets his much needed knee surgery, Carrot jumps at the chance. She loves Uncle Earl and the museum, and is very aware that she may not have survived living with her mother.

A month into running the place with Uncle Earl, things seem to be going pretty well and he goes off to stay with Carrot's mom for his surgery and recovery period, and Carrot's left to mind the museum on her own. Which goes pretty damn swimmingly until someone knocks a hole in one of the museum walls that opens up into an impossible bunker that should NOT be able to exist.

You've gotta give them props for it, because Carrot and Simon (her barista friend from the coffee shop next door) tried very hard not to become main characters in a horror movie. But, alas, things had different plans and they wound up becoming main characters in a horror movie book.

And lemme just tell you, the horror aspect of this was sublime. It felt vaguely Annihilation-like (the movie, not the book. I haven't read that and I hear it's very bureaucratic?) and incredibly sinister. The strong sci-fi energy of was super satisfying and gave The Hollow Places an edge over The Twisted Ones. Between the Willows, and Them and the willow world, Kingfisher wove a horror story that was full of existentialism, and gently mind-fucky.

I especially liked the way the scope was narrowed towards the conclusion. The main horrors in themselves were Too Big and Too Complex for Carrot and Simon to conceivably fight on their own. But Kingfisher narrowed the circle slowly and just enough that their eventual escape from this horror tale felt justified, hard-won and, most importantly, reasonable.

The driving force in this book was, once again, how much Carrot loved. She loved her uncle, she loved the museum, she loved her uncle's cat Beau, and while her deeply sibling-esque bond with Simon might not have felt like love just yet, it was well on its way there. You cared for these characters, and for the new life Carrot was building in the wake of her divorce. You wanted her and Simon to make their way out of this place and close that goddamned hole up for good. You had your heart in your throat when Beau followed his cat-instincts and put himself in incredible harm's way.

I knew I'd found a good thing when I read The Twisted Ones, but the Hollow Places has absolutely cemented my love for how Kingfisher writes horror - and I'll definitely be reading more of her work. 

 There were parts if this that I loved, and there were parts of this that didn't quite work for me.

The Death of Jane Lawrence follow Jane, a practical-minded young woman who's looking for a marriage of convenience. Her guardians, the Cunninghams, are moving out of town, and if she moves with them the funds left to her by her parents won't be enough to support her if she is to be out in society. And as an unmarried woman who's old enough to raise eyebrows about her unmarried state, she will have to be out in society. Her only option is to remain in her town of Larrenton, and marry.

But Jane does not believe herself to be suited to married life. She does not form attachments easily, and craves solitude and freedom; so a normal match won't work for her. Enter Augustine Lawrence, a surgeon in his thirties who is also raising eyebrows at his unmarried state. By all accounts, he seems to only have time for his surgery and his patients, and has the odd ritual of returning to his family home, Lindridge Hall, every night, even though it would be more prudent for him to stay in the rooms above his surgery. Augustine requires someone to stay at the surgery at night to fetch him if the need arises; and his steward really needs a night off. These little oddities put Augustine at the very top of Jane's list of potential husbands. He needs someone to live apart from him in the surgery, and she has no desire to be a traditional wife and bear a big brood of children. She can keep his books and play nurse until he arrives at the surgery in the nights. It's perfect.

And honestly, it would have been perfect, but this is what ended up being what disappointed me the most about this book. Jane's proposed marriage of convenience and business agreement didn't stay that way along. No sir, she and Augustine went completely gaga over each other the very second time they met - for almost no reason - and the emotional core of this book suffered for it.

I could absolutely, one hundred percent see it working if they'd stuck to their "business deal" marriage for a bit; if they'd stayed business partners for a little bit during their marriage and slowly grown to love each other. THEN I could see Jane doing everything she did to save him and break the spell the house had on him. THEN I could have understood the horrors and tortures this woman endured. For a husband she had learned to respect and love over time? Sure! Inject it into my veins!

But going through all that for a man she barely knew, had met only, what, two weeks ago, and was only attracted to because of unexplained heat and tension between them??? No. No thank you. You cannot sit here and tell me this woman was willing to die for this dude just because of a magnetic pull. No.

It's so disappointing, because I cannot fault the horror aspect of this book one bit. It's a glorious mind-fuck that ties itself very cleverly to maths of all things. The magic system is complicated and dark AF, and Jane's slow decent into madness was beyond compelling. It even wrapped up pretty well. Not a completely happy ending, and no one's hands were completely clean - which is, to me, the best kind of ending you can have with a horror novel. Good in the grand scheme of things, but fucked up when you think about it too hard.

My ONLY hang up is that I couldn't give a damn about Jane's motivation. I was rooting for her to succeed, yeah, but in a very insubstantial way. If I'd had my way she'd have noped the fuck out of that house and moved on to greener pastures instead of breaking her literal body to save this guy she barely knew. Like I said, the emotional core suffered.

But if you that isn't a complete deal-breaker for you, then this is a solid horror that does its horror well. I'd definitely recommend it.