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livinliterary's reviews
1591 reviews
Stinger by Robert R. McCammon
dark
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.5
So Witches We Became by Jill Baguchinsky
Though the novel leans toward the spooky rather than full-on horror, it strikes a perfect balance for young adult readers. The fright factor is just enough to keep the story edgy without crossing into overwhelming territory. Baguchinsky also weaves in thoughtful flashbacks that offer valuable insight into the characters, enriching the narrative and creating deeper emotional resonance.
If you enjoy eerie tales filled with empowerment, mystery, and a dash of fright, So Witches We Became is a book you won’t want to miss.
dark
emotional
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.5
Jill Baguchinsky delivers a compelling feminist queer horror novel that carves its own unique path in So Witches We Became. While it shares some atmospheric similarities with The Mist, the story stands strong on its own, blending suspense, mystery, and empowerment into a page-turning tale.
Baguchinsky’s writing is skillful and vivid, painting the eerie setting and spine-chilling moments with precision. The island’s haunting atmosphere and the chilling mystery of its supposed curse kept me guessing, and the sense of satisfaction when the title’s meaning became clear was a standout moment.
Though the novel leans toward the spooky rather than full-on horror, it strikes a perfect balance for young adult readers. The fright factor is just enough to keep the story edgy without crossing into overwhelming territory. Baguchinsky also weaves in thoughtful flashbacks that offer valuable insight into the characters, enriching the narrative and creating deeper emotional resonance.
This is a story that thrives on suspense and intrigue, drawing readers in with its mysterious twists and turns. It’s an excellent choice for fans of YA horror looking for something a little spooky but not overly intense. However, I strongly recommend checking the trigger warnings, as some elements may be unsettling for sensitive readers.
If you enjoy eerie tales filled with empowerment, mystery, and a dash of fright, So Witches We Became is a book you won’t want to miss.
When the Moon Hatched by Sarah A. Parker
The romance, too, left much to be desired. Half of it is relayed through diary entries, while the other half seems to hinge on fragmented, forgotten memories. This disjointed approach made it hard to feel invested in the relationship, and instead of swooning, I was left scratching my head.
Ultimately, When the Moon Hatched feels like a missed opportunity. It might resonate with readers who adore dense prose and don’t mind meandering plots, but for those who value tighter pacing and a more focused narrative, this might not be the right pick. A strong start and a unique premise earn it three stars, but it’s not a book I’d rush to recommend.
adventurous
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Sarah A. Parker’s When the Moon Hatched has been hyped as a poetic and enchanting tale, but for me, it fell short of the praise. The book starts off promisingly, with an intriguing premise and lush world-building, but it quickly stalls as the story gets bogged down by an overabundance of description.
If you love detailed, flowery prose, this might be your cup of tea. For me, it felt like word soup—so much unnecessary information that I found myself skimming paragraphs to get back to the actual plot. Some might call the style poetic, but I found it more babbling than beautiful, often burying the story under layers of overwrought detail.
The romance, too, left much to be desired. Half of it is relayed through diary entries, while the other half seems to hinge on fragmented, forgotten memories. This disjointed approach made it hard to feel invested in the relationship, and instead of swooning, I was left scratching my head.
The confusion extended to the plot as well. While the premise had potential, the pacing dragged, and I spent much of the book bored or trying to piece together what was actually happening. There are moments of brilliance—Parker has a knack for atmosphere—but they’re few and far between.
Ultimately, When the Moon Hatched feels like a missed opportunity. It might resonate with readers who adore dense prose and don’t mind meandering plots, but for those who value tighter pacing and a more focused narrative, this might not be the right pick. A strong start and a unique premise earn it three stars, but it’s not a book I’d rush to recommend.
Arsenic and Adobo by Mia P. Manansala
Lila Macapagal, the protagonist, finds herself in the midst of a murder mystery at her aunt Tita Rosie's restaurant. The blend of mouthwatering Filipino dishes—served up with a side of family drama—makes this not just a mystery, but also a culinary experience. Every meal described is so rich in detail that you'll be salivating by the time Lila starts piecing together the clues.
This book has an almost Clue-like vibe but from a Filipino point of view, which makes it both familiar and excitingly new. The family-friendly writing ensures it's accessible to a wide range of readers without sacrificing the depth of the mystery. It's clever, clean, and tight in terms of pacing, and the reveal of the killer caught me completely by surprise—everything fell into place logically, with no far-fetched twists to detract from the suspense.
What really sets Arsenic and Adobo apart, though, is its fantastic diversity. The characters are wonderfully varied, representing a refreshing break from the more traditionally homogenous mystery genre. Each character is distinct, and their dynamics with one another—both familial and otherwise—add depth to the plot and keep things lively.
Overall, this was a fun, engaging read with a perfect balance of intrigue, humor, and heartfelt moments. Mia P. Manansala has crafted a solid start to a cozy mystery series, and I'm already looking forward to the next installment in Tita Rosie's kitchen mysteries. If you’re a fan of food-centric mysteries, diverse casts, or just well-crafted storytelling, Arsenic and Adobo is definitely a must-read!
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
Arsenic and Adobo is an absolute delight—a cozy mystery that offers a fresh perspective by blending classic whodunit elements with Filipino culture and cuisine. From the very first page, readers are transported into a world brimming with delicious food, vibrant characters, and a mystery that keeps you guessing until the very end.
Lila Macapagal, the protagonist, finds herself in the midst of a murder mystery at her aunt Tita Rosie's restaurant. The blend of mouthwatering Filipino dishes—served up with a side of family drama—makes this not just a mystery, but also a culinary experience. Every meal described is so rich in detail that you'll be salivating by the time Lila starts piecing together the clues.
This book has an almost Clue-like vibe but from a Filipino point of view, which makes it both familiar and excitingly new. The family-friendly writing ensures it's accessible to a wide range of readers without sacrificing the depth of the mystery. It's clever, clean, and tight in terms of pacing, and the reveal of the killer caught me completely by surprise—everything fell into place logically, with no far-fetched twists to detract from the suspense.
What really sets Arsenic and Adobo apart, though, is its fantastic diversity. The characters are wonderfully varied, representing a refreshing break from the more traditionally homogenous mystery genre. Each character is distinct, and their dynamics with one another—both familial and otherwise—add depth to the plot and keep things lively.
Overall, this was a fun, engaging read with a perfect balance of intrigue, humor, and heartfelt moments. Mia P. Manansala has crafted a solid start to a cozy mystery series, and I'm already looking forward to the next installment in Tita Rosie's kitchen mysteries. If you’re a fan of food-centric mysteries, diverse casts, or just well-crafted storytelling, Arsenic and Adobo is definitely a must-read!
Funny Story by Emily Henry
Daphne and Miles's relationship isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Their breakups are messy and raw, revealing insecurities, past traumas, and unresolved pain. Yet, through it all, they grow closer by being completely honest and open with each other. This openness leads to some of the most tender, emotionally powerful moments I've encountered in a romance novel.
What makes their story so special is how the couple allows each other to feel their emotions without judgment. They’re there for one another in ways that are both beautiful and realistic. Their acceptance of each other’s flaws and their unwavering support create a truly heartwarming relationship that feels grounded in real-life experiences.
Another element that I appreciated was Daphne’s character development. She’s unapologetically focused on herself—investing in her career and friendships, and it’s so empowering to see her prioritize her own growth. She’s not defined by her relationship, which makes her even more relatable and inspiring.
Overall, Funny Story is a heartfelt romance that’s more than just a love story—it’s about two people who go through the hardest of times and come out stronger, together. Though it may be predictable at times, the emotional richness and the beauty of their connection make it well worth reading. Highly recommended for anyone who enjoys a romance with depth and authenticity.
emotional
funny
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Funny Story by Emily Henry is a romance that might seem predictable at first glance, but it quickly proves to be so much more. While romance fans will enjoy the heartwarming connection between Daphne and Miles, the story delves deeper into themes of self-discovery, vulnerability, and emotional growth.
Daphne and Miles's relationship isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Their breakups are messy and raw, revealing insecurities, past traumas, and unresolved pain. Yet, through it all, they grow closer by being completely honest and open with each other. This openness leads to some of the most tender, emotionally powerful moments I've encountered in a romance novel.
What makes their story so special is how the couple allows each other to feel their emotions without judgment. They’re there for one another in ways that are both beautiful and realistic. Their acceptance of each other’s flaws and their unwavering support create a truly heartwarming relationship that feels grounded in real-life experiences.
Another element that I appreciated was Daphne’s character development. She’s unapologetically focused on herself—investing in her career and friendships, and it’s so empowering to see her prioritize her own growth. She’s not defined by her relationship, which makes her even more relatable and inspiring.
Overall, Funny Story is a heartfelt romance that’s more than just a love story—it’s about two people who go through the hardest of times and come out stronger, together. Though it may be predictable at times, the emotional richness and the beauty of their connection make it well worth reading. Highly recommended for anyone who enjoys a romance with depth and authenticity.
Master of Me by Keke Palmer
What stands out most in this memoir is Keke’s ability to break down societal expectations with such grace and clarity. For too long, women have been boxed in by rules about how we should think, dress, act, and even love. But Keke boldly confronts these barriers, offering her raw and authentic truth. Her words are a breath of fresh air in a world that often demands women to conform.
I am continually amazed at how young Keke is yet how deeply insightful and wise she is. The way she articulates her journey—highlighting the challenges she’s faced, the accomplishments she’s achieved, and the lessons she’s learned—feels both intimate and universal. Her vulnerability makes her relatable, but her wisdom makes her a true inspiration.
Master of Me isn’t just a memoir; it’s a celebration of strength, self-empowerment, and the beauty of embracing your true self. Keke Palmer has created a book that is not only an inside look at her life but also a guide for others to find their own voice and authenticity. If you’re looking for a book that will motivate you to break free from societal norms and step into your full power, this is the one.
funny
informative
reflective
medium-paced
5.0
Keke Palmer's Master of Me is an absolute masterpiece—a powerful memoir that captivates, inspires, and empowers. From the moment I pressed play on the audiobook, I could feel her infectious energy radiating through every page. Keke’s straightforward and vulnerable writing, paired with her upbeat attitude, brings this memoir to life in a way that feels like a conversation with a close friend.
What stands out most in this memoir is Keke’s ability to break down societal expectations with such grace and clarity. For too long, women have been boxed in by rules about how we should think, dress, act, and even love. But Keke boldly confronts these barriers, offering her raw and authentic truth. Her words are a breath of fresh air in a world that often demands women to conform.
I am continually amazed at how young Keke is yet how deeply insightful and wise she is. The way she articulates her journey—highlighting the challenges she’s faced, the accomplishments she’s achieved, and the lessons she’s learned—feels both intimate and universal. Her vulnerability makes her relatable, but her wisdom makes her a true inspiration.
Master of Me isn’t just a memoir; it’s a celebration of strength, self-empowerment, and the beauty of embracing your true self. Keke Palmer has created a book that is not only an inside look at her life but also a guide for others to find their own voice and authenticity. If you’re looking for a book that will motivate you to break free from societal norms and step into your full power, this is the one.
The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires by Grady Hendrix
The characters, particularly the women at the heart of the story, are by no means likable. In fact, most of them are downright infuriating. Throughout the book, they come across as painfully meek, often making foolish, frustrating decisions. It's especially grating how they remain passively uninvolved for much of the story, prioritizing their creature comforts and social status over the well-being of those around them—until, of course, they become the target of the vampire. This shift to suddenly becoming "Badass Warriors" is hard to swallow, especially given that much of their "empowerment" seems to be fueled by... the power of friendship? It’s a confusing transformation considering the judgmental and often hostile relationships the women have with one another throughout the narrative.
The protagonist, who I hesitate to even call a heroine, is one-dimensional and often makes decisions that feel completely unrealistic. Her lack of agency and inability to react appropriately to the escalating horrors around her make it difficult to root for her. The time jumps, particularly a sudden leap of three years, feel jarring and create a sense of disconnection from the characters. By the time the book catches up to the present, it feels like we’ve lost touch with the core story and its characters.
Despite these frustrations, the ending, while underwhelming and somewhat unresolved, didn’t ruin the experience for me. It leaves certain questions hanging, but for the most part, I wasn’t bothered by the lack of closure. The larger issue for me was the general journey of the book. Watching a group of privileged white southerners ignore the immediate threat to children until it personally affects them is both frustrating and, in many ways, typical of the genre’s approach. The plot feels unnecessarily drawn-out as the characters’ inertia drags the narrative forward, making their eventual action feel more like a forced afterthought.
In summary, The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires is a story that offers a lot of potential but ultimately falls into a frustrating pattern of poor decisions and unlikable characters. If you can tolerate a narrative filled with stupidity and unearned transformations, you might find some enjoyment in the book’s horror elements. However, it wasn't a fulfilling read for me. It may be a guilty pleasure for some, but for those who value strong characters and realistic actions, this may not be the best pick.
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75
The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires is a horror-comedy novel that, unfortunately, falls short on some fronts while managing to entertain in others. At its core, the book is about a group of book club members in the 1990s South who become unwittingly embroiled in a supernatural battle with a vampire. While the premise has promise, the execution is a mixed bag.
The characters, particularly the women at the heart of the story, are by no means likable. In fact, most of them are downright infuriating. Throughout the book, they come across as painfully meek, often making foolish, frustrating decisions. It's especially grating how they remain passively uninvolved for much of the story, prioritizing their creature comforts and social status over the well-being of those around them—until, of course, they become the target of the vampire. This shift to suddenly becoming "Badass Warriors" is hard to swallow, especially given that much of their "empowerment" seems to be fueled by... the power of friendship? It’s a confusing transformation considering the judgmental and often hostile relationships the women have with one another throughout the narrative.
The protagonist, who I hesitate to even call a heroine, is one-dimensional and often makes decisions that feel completely unrealistic. Her lack of agency and inability to react appropriately to the escalating horrors around her make it difficult to root for her. The time jumps, particularly a sudden leap of three years, feel jarring and create a sense of disconnection from the characters. By the time the book catches up to the present, it feels like we’ve lost touch with the core story and its characters.
Despite these frustrations, the ending, while underwhelming and somewhat unresolved, didn’t ruin the experience for me. It leaves certain questions hanging, but for the most part, I wasn’t bothered by the lack of closure. The larger issue for me was the general journey of the book. Watching a group of privileged white southerners ignore the immediate threat to children until it personally affects them is both frustrating and, in many ways, typical of the genre’s approach. The plot feels unnecessarily drawn-out as the characters’ inertia drags the narrative forward, making their eventual action feel more like a forced afterthought.
In summary, The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires is a story that offers a lot of potential but ultimately falls into a frustrating pattern of poor decisions and unlikable characters. If you can tolerate a narrative filled with stupidity and unearned transformations, you might find some enjoyment in the book’s horror elements. However, it wasn't a fulfilling read for me. It may be a guilty pleasure for some, but for those who value strong characters and realistic actions, this may not be the best pick.
Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson
One of the aspects I loved most about Vespertine was Artemisia, the protagonist. She’s a recluse with social difficulties, making her a refreshing departure from many heroines who are naturally outgoing or confident. I wasn’t sure I would connect with her at first, but I was pleasantly surprised by her growth and complexity. Her reluctance to interact with others is a well-executed part of her character, and it adds depth to her journey.
While the dynamic between Artemisia and the revenant wasn’t quite the enemies-to-allies relationship I was hoping for, it was still well-done. The revenant's tough love approach, especially when bullying Artemisia into taking care of her body, made for some entertaining and emotional moments. Their reluctant partnership was engaging, and the way they adjusted to each other—especially considering Artemisia's traumatic past—was a poignant aspect of the story.
That said, Vespertine isn't perfect. Some parts could have been fleshed out more, and the pacing slowed down at times. Still, it's a solid and enjoyable read. It delivers on suspense, character growth, and a complex plot, and I look forward to seeing what Rogerson does next. If you're a fan of her previous works, Vespertine will likely be a hit for you.
adventurous
dark
mysterious
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
Like all of Margaret Rogerson's books, Vespertine is beautifully written with a well-crafted storyline that draws you in from the very first page. Rogerson's world-building shines as she introduces a captivating new world full of restless spirits and looming danger. The atmosphere is immersive and mysterious, which kept me on my toes throughout the novel. The central mystery—why the spirits have become violent and how they can be stopped—was intriguing, and it drove the suspense in the story. And then, the twist at the end? Chef's kiss. It was a satisfying, unexpected turn that added layers to the plot.
One of the aspects I loved most about Vespertine was Artemisia, the protagonist. She’s a recluse with social difficulties, making her a refreshing departure from many heroines who are naturally outgoing or confident. I wasn’t sure I would connect with her at first, but I was pleasantly surprised by her growth and complexity. Her reluctance to interact with others is a well-executed part of her character, and it adds depth to her journey.
While the dynamic between Artemisia and the revenant wasn’t quite the enemies-to-allies relationship I was hoping for, it was still well-done. The revenant's tough love approach, especially when bullying Artemisia into taking care of her body, made for some entertaining and emotional moments. Their reluctant partnership was engaging, and the way they adjusted to each other—especially considering Artemisia's traumatic past—was a poignant aspect of the story.
That said, Vespertine isn't perfect. Some parts could have been fleshed out more, and the pacing slowed down at times. Still, it's a solid and enjoyable read. It delivers on suspense, character growth, and a complex plot, and I look forward to seeing what Rogerson does next. If you're a fan of her previous works, Vespertine will likely be a hit for you.
7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to Her Worst Enemy! (Manga) Vol. 5 by Hinoki Kino, Touko Amekawa
One of the highlights of this volume is Rishe’s resourcefulness and charm. Her ability to adapt and thrive in each of her lives shines, and her knack for resolving tense situations keeps the story engaging. The budding romance between Rishe and Arnold progresses in subtle but satisfying ways, adding emotional depth to their dynamic.
adventurous
funny
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.5
Volume 5 of 7th Time Loop continues the saga of Rishe, the time-looping "villainess," as she cleverly navigates her way through a seemingly endless cycle of reincarnations. This installment deepens her relationship with her husband, Duke Arnold Hein, while sprinkling in more political intrigue and moments of humor.
One of the highlights of this volume is Rishe’s resourcefulness and charm. Her ability to adapt and thrive in each of her lives shines, and her knack for resolving tense situations keeps the story engaging. The budding romance between Rishe and Arnold progresses in subtle but satisfying ways, adding emotional depth to their dynamic.
The Ritual by Adam L.G. Nevill
The first half of the novel is where it shines. Four friends lost in an ancient forest, grappling with both external and internal threats, creates a genuinely tense and unsettling atmosphere. The descriptions of the forest are vivid, eerie, and oppressive, drawing readers into the primal dread of isolation and the unknown. This section feels like pure survival horror, and it’s gripping.
However, the second half takes a sharp turn into a less coherent narrative involving a group of death metal band members attempting to raise a god. While intriguing on paper, the execution feels jarring compared to the first half’s atmospheric horror. The tonal shift detracts from the immersion, and this latter part doesn’t quite live up to the suspenseful buildup.
One of the more disappointing aspects of The Ritual is its marketing. The book’s cover boasts, "Now a major motion picture," but this is misleading. Those who, like me, discovered the book through the movie may find themselves confused or let down by how drastically different the two are. While the movie takes creative liberties, it delivers a more cohesive narrative and a better portrayal of the creature, which was a standout element. The book, unfortunately, skimps on developing the creature's mythology, instead delving into the minutiae of the characters’ lives—details that often felt extraneous.
In summary, the book’s first half surpasses the movie, while the second half falters. The creature's potential remains underexplored, and the mismatched halves result in a story that transitions from great to merely good. The Ritual is still worth a read for its strong opening and the unsettling forest setting, but manage your expectations if you’re coming from the movie.
dark
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.0
Adam L.G. Nevill’s The Ritual is a novel that feels like two distinct stories loosely tethered together by the presence of a single creature. While each half of the book has its strengths, the disconnect between them ultimately undermines the story as a cohesive whole.
The first half of the novel is where it shines. Four friends lost in an ancient forest, grappling with both external and internal threats, creates a genuinely tense and unsettling atmosphere. The descriptions of the forest are vivid, eerie, and oppressive, drawing readers into the primal dread of isolation and the unknown. This section feels like pure survival horror, and it’s gripping.
However, the second half takes a sharp turn into a less coherent narrative involving a group of death metal band members attempting to raise a god. While intriguing on paper, the execution feels jarring compared to the first half’s atmospheric horror. The tonal shift detracts from the immersion, and this latter part doesn’t quite live up to the suspenseful buildup.
One of the more disappointing aspects of The Ritual is its marketing. The book’s cover boasts, "Now a major motion picture," but this is misleading. Those who, like me, discovered the book through the movie may find themselves confused or let down by how drastically different the two are. While the movie takes creative liberties, it delivers a more cohesive narrative and a better portrayal of the creature, which was a standout element. The book, unfortunately, skimps on developing the creature's mythology, instead delving into the minutiae of the characters’ lives—details that often felt extraneous.
In summary, the book’s first half surpasses the movie, while the second half falters. The creature's potential remains underexplored, and the mismatched halves result in a story that transitions from great to merely good. The Ritual is still worth a read for its strong opening and the unsettling forest setting, but manage your expectations if you’re coming from the movie.