natlbugz's reviews
370 reviews

TLDR: If you like your historical fiction dark, your romance layered, and your setting creepy as fck, this one’s for you. WHAT A GREAT DEBUT!!!

I’ll read just about anything with a dark, atmospheric vibe, and The Resurrectionist hit that sweet spot for me. Set in 19th-century Edinburgh, this story is steeped in gothic energy, medical history, and just the right amount of unsettling detail to make you feel unsettled (in a good way, obviously). And a debut?! I love to see it.
The plot follows James Willoughby and Aneurin “Nye” MacKinnon, two men from wildly different social backgrounds, who bond over their shared passion for medicine. But here’s the twist: they’re resurrectionists, aka body snatchers, providing cadavers to medical schools in the dead of night. Throw in a connection to the infamous real-life serial killers Burke and Hare, and you’ve got a story that’s equal parts fascinating and horrifying.

The medical details? Dark and gruesome in a way that felt authentic to the era. Think blood-soaked dissection scenes and the grim logistics of body snatching. It’s not for the faint of heart, but it adds a layer of realism that kept me hooked. Plus, the stakes feel so high throughout, both for their dangerous trade and their budding (and complicated) relationship.

Speaking of, James and Nye are magnetic. Their dynamic is the heart of the story, and their love feels so raw and genuine against this bleak backdrop. It’s gritty, it’s emotional, and it’s the kind of love story that sneaks up on you while you’re busy focusing on all the chaos around them.

Is it dark? Yes. Did I recoil more than once? Absolutely. But there’s something so compelling about this mix of gothic history, macabre medical practices, and forbidden love that I couldn’t put it down.

TLDR: If you’re looking for a feel-good holiday romcom, this might be for you—but for me, the shaky premise and my current mood just didn’t vibe.

Well, this one sent me spiraling into a reading slump, so there’s that. I’m honestly not sure if it’s because of the book itself or my post-breakup holiday blues, but A Winter in New York just didn’t land for me. And trust me, I loved One Day in December when I read it last year—but then again, I was in a happy relationship, planning a magical trip to London to meet my now-ex’s family, so… maybe this is all circumstantial? Anyway, let’s dive in.

To be fair, the book had its cute moments. It’s cozy and festive, with that trademark Josie Silver charm sprinkled here and there. But the foundation of the story just didn’t hold up for me. The whole premise—[why couldn’t the FMC just tell Gio about the “secret recipe”? Why did she feel the need to leave him? The stakes didn’t feel believable, and it all just seemed unnecessarily dramatic. And Santo not wanting his family to find out? Why? What’s the point of all this secrecy? It felt like the book was relying on flimsy misunderstandings to keep the plot moving, and honestly, I was over it.

I will say this: it’s possible that this book just hit me at the wrong time. Maybe if I weren’t in the middle of heartbreak, I’d have been more forgiving of the holiday cheer and romance, but right now, it just wasn’t it for me. Instead of warming my heart, it made me question why I was even reading it.

TLDR: This was a fun, cheeky read that might give you a few gems to take away, but it’s definitely stuck in the past in many ways. If you’re looking for some light advice, go for it, but read it with a critical eye. Really hoping for a modernized version one day.

Part empowering, part outdated, and part “huh?” Why Men Marry Bitches has some timeless advice, but also a lot that feels like it’s been left behind in the pre-dating app era. A 2024 updated version would really hit differently—maybe sprinkle in some swipes and modern relationship dynamics? Because some of this advice… big yikes.

Let’s start with the good stuff. The book is at its best when it focuses on confidence, boundaries, and self-worth. Quotes like, “What’s the advantage of having this guy around? How do I feel about myself after I’ve been in his company? What’s in it for me?” really hit home. It’s all about asking the tough questions and not settling for anything less than what you deserve. I also loved this: "A bitch has strength of conviction. As painful as it is, as afraid as she might feel—she will leave if she doesn’t get what she wants. And guess what? That’s precisely why she gets what she wants." That’s solid advice, and I’ll take it with me. Boundaries? We love to see it.

But then there are the… other parts. The book leans heavilyon appearances and sex appeal, with an obsession over what the woman is wearing and how “hot” she comes across. It’s giving bird brain, honestly. Not to mention, some of it felt straight-up anti-feminist and borderline masochistic. The idea that you have to play these rigid roles to "catch" a man? Hard pass. Women have come a long way, and this just doesn’t align with modern values.

That said, it’s not all bad. There’s something in here about standing firm in what you want and not bending over backward for someone who doesn’t deserve it, and I can always get behind that message. Relationships should feel like a negotiation where you’re willing to walk if it’s not working—“When one person is willing to walk off the showroom floor, the other person has to come up with a better offer.” Solid metaphor, even if the delivery is a bit dated.

TLDR: If you’re into morally gray characters, unconventional storytelling, and the chaos of flawed humanity, pick this up. A wild and slighty spicy ride!

I will always, without hesitation, read about insufferable people doing unhinged, irrational things—it mirrors real life far too well. We’re all flawed humans, and some people are just more so, and that’s the kind of raw, messy realness I’m always chasing in novels. Rosenfeld? Delivered.

The dynamic between Noa (a 36-year-old filmmaker) and Teddy (a 55-year-old, powerful CEO) is exactly the kind of morally complex situationship that makes you lean in. It’s uncomfortable but entirely believable—there’s something so compelling about watching the imbalance of power play out, especially when you can totally imagine this happening in the real world. Add in some steamy scenes, and yeah, this one kept me hooked.

I didn’t even realize until 250 pages in that the entire book is framed as the movie Noa dreams of writing and producing, which just clicked everything into place for me. The way Kessler structures the chapters is genius: pause icons for reflection, play for real-time progression, fast-forward to jump weeks ahead, and rewind to dive into the past. It’s such a small, clever detail, but it adds so much depth and creativity to the storytelling. Honestly, I was so impressed.

If you loved Vladimir, this will be right up your alley—it has the same messy, dark, obsessive vibes that are impossible to look away from.

What. The. Fck. 

TLDR: If you’re a Murakami fan or even just dipping your toes into his work like I am, this is one to add to your list. It’s introspective, ambiguous, and full of the kind of surreal, thought-provoking writing that makes his books feel like a dream you don’t want to wake up from.

Murakami does it again—creating a world so vivid and strange that I almost want to pack up and move there (even if it means navigating weird libraries or decoding dreamy metaphors). This is only my second Murakami (1Q84 was my first earlier this year), but I already feel like I’m hooked on his unique blend of reality and surrealism.

This novel is all about the blurred lines between consciousness and dreaming, and it really had me thinking: what is real? What does it mean to live in a world shaped by memory, dreams, and unspoken emotions? Murakami doesn’t give you the answers outright (because, of course, he doesn’t), but that ambiguity is part of what makes his writing so magical. You’re left to wander through the labyrinth he’s created, which feels equal parts disorienting and profound.

The concept of the walled city and the dream library holding people’s emotions was such an interesting framework, and I loved how Murakami played with these existential ideas. His worlds aren’t just settings—they’re puzzles you want to piece together, even when you know you won’t get every answer.

TLDR: If you’re looking for a cute, breezy romance with a lot of laughs and some classic rom-com tropes, definitely pick this one up. It’s the perfect feel-good escape.
This was such a fun, cheeky read that gave me major How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days vibes (which is my all-time favorite rom-com). It’s light, flirty, and exactly the kind of book you’d pick up when you need a feel-good story to cleanse the palette after something heavier.

While I rarely rate romance novels high because of how easy and low-effort they are to get through, that doesn’t mean they’re bad by any means! In fact, I really enjoyed this one. It’s charming, made me smile, and kept me entertained the whole way through. Cousens knows how to bring the humor and heart to her rom-coms, and this is no exception.

TLDR: If you’ve ever wondered why your relationships pan out the way they do (or why they fall apart), Attached is a fantastic resource. It’s equal parts enlightening and empowering, and it’s perfect for anyone who wants to better understand themselves, their partners, and how attachment theory impacts our love lives. Just keep in mind that some of the perspectives might feel a little one-sided. 

 

This book was such an eye-opener for me. Attached helped me understand so much about my ex’s behavior and why he showed up in the relationship the way he did. More importantly, it helped me realize that our breakup—no matter how painful it was—had everything to do with him and his attachment style, and nothing to do with me personally. That perspective shift? Absolutely game-changing. 

 

Reading this also gave me the tools to reflect on my own attachment style. I’ve always leaned a little more anxiously attached, but I’m proud of how much I’ve been working on showing up in more secure ways. This book offered great insights on how to be a better partner in future relationships and how to set the groundwork for healthier dynamics moving forward. 

 

That said, I couldn’t give this the full five stars. While I appreciated the deep dive into attachment theory and the nuanced way it approached anxious and secure attachment, I couldn’t help but feel that avoidantly attached individuals got the short end of the stick here. The book often painted them as “the problem” or even the enemy, and I wish it had extended the same grace and understanding to avoidant behaviors as it did to anxious ones. Relationships are complicated, and no single attachment style should carry all the blame.

TLDR: Even with its length, this is an insanely compelling read. It’s jaw-dropping, infuriating, and surprisingly empowering—a story about resilience, revenge, and uncovering one of the most audacious scams imaginable. If you’re into true-crime vibes, investigative drama, or just love a good group of pissed-off women working together, There Is No Ethan delivers. Highly recommend for those who love being nosy and enjoy a little chaos in their non-fiction.
I cannot believe this is a true story. Equal parts fascinating and absolutely terrifying, this book dives headfirst into one of the most unhinged catfishing sagas I’ve ever read about. The sheer audacity of Ethan, the chaos he created, and the tangled web he spun? Absolutely wild and diaobolical.

What made this stand out wasn’t just the drama (there’s plenty of that—it’s messy in the best way). It’s the camaraderie between the three main women he targeted. Watching them connect, share their stories, and ultimately team up to take Ethan down was incredibly satisfying. I love a strong group of women taking no bullsh!t, and their determination to expose him was the perfect blend of empowering and maddening (seriously, they are better than me because I would have done way worse).

The investigative journalism style also worked really well for me. The book includes the original emails and chat logs between Ethan and his victims, which made the story feel raw and real. Akbari’s approach immerses you in every detail, and I loved getting into the nitty-gritty of how Ethan pulled off his manipulations. Hearing all three women’s perspectives on how they got entangled in his lies added so much depth to the narrative.

That said, I do have some gripes. It’s way too long. While the stories of the other women outside the main trio added context, they took up way too much page time. At a certain point, it became clear that Ethan used the same tactics over and over again, and the repetition dragged down the pacing. I found myself skimming through some of these sections, wishing the focus had stayed more on the main three women and their journey to bring him down.

TLDR: Baby X is thought-provoking, twisty, and the kind of speculative fiction that keeps you up late. If you’re into morally complex sci-fi with a thriller edge, this one’s a banger.
Speculative fiction that feels like a Black Mirror episode? Truly nothing I love more. Baby X had me hooked with its near-future premise, and the ending twist? Chef’s kiss. I had no idea we were operating in multiple timelines until the big reveal, and honestly, that made the payoff so much better. Peikoff’s ability to weave these different threads together into one mind-bending moment was expertly written.

The story follows three main characters whose lives are interconnected in wild and unexpected ways we don’t really understand until later in the book. I loved how each perspective brought a new layer to the narrative, and by the time everything clicked into place, I was fully invested.

Plus, the ethical and technological dilemmas at the heart of the story gave me plenty to think about (in true Black Mirrorfashion). Genetic privacy, futuristic tech, and human connection—it’s all there.

My only critique? There were a few moments where the pacing dragged just a tiny bit, but the twists and tension more than made up for it.

TLDR: If you’re a fan of family sagas with strong, imperfect women and stories that dig into the messiness of real relationships, Like Mother, Like Mother is a good one. Dysfunctional families are always a captivating read for me.
Give me a multi-generational family saga with powerful, messy, imperfect women, and I’m all in. Like Mother, Like Mother is exactly that—raw, dysfunctional, and so incredibly real. Susan Rieger creates a story that dives into the complexities of family relationships, especially the bonds (and tensions) between mothers and daughters. It’s unflinching, emotional, and a little chaotic in all the best ways.

The women in this book? They’re flawed, ambitious, and sometimes hard to like, but that’s what makes them so compelling. The narrative explores how their choices ripple through generations, shaping not just their own lives but those of the daughters who follow. It’s filled with power struggles, secrets, and moments of vulnerability that hit hard.

I also loved the way Rieger captures the nuance of familial love—how it can be both suffocating and liberating, supportive yet fraught with tension. That kind of complexity feels so authentic, and it kept me hooked from the beginning.

If I had one critique, it’s that a few parts felt a bit rushed. I would’ve loved even more time to sit with certain characters or moments, but honestly, that’s just because I didn’t want the book to end. My November 2024 Aardvark book of the month pick!