A fun read, and I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't as brainless as I thought it was going to be! I think this has a good combination of character, plot, worldbuilding, and politics without being overwhelmingly skewed in one direction or another, which is how I prefer my fantasy reads.

Praise: I love a good enemies-to-lovers, and I also love a good human-fey romance, so we were already off to a good start. Also, a lot of the "high" or "second world" fantasy I've read tends to set up bigotry between, like, orcs because they're ✨️so warlike✨️ versus the other ✨️more civilized✨️ species, so it was kind of fresh for me at least that in this book it seemed to be set up between high fey vs. humans based on their access to certain types of magic, with the "good" and "bad" magic being defined less by the actual results and more by one queen who was so pissed at her boyfriend she made his existence illegal.

(Side note, does anyone else feel that the terms high/low fantasy and second/first world fantasy are becoming increasingly meaningless as speculative fiction and specifically romantasy becomes more developed as a genre? Or is that just me?)

I also like that our main character isn't afraid to be emotional, but also that his emotions include rage and determination and bravery even when being brave means being stupid. He doesn't need to be saved by our big handsome prince, and in fact he's more than willing to kick the prince's ass and call him an idiot to his face.

Gripes: I think this book could have used a better editor. There are a lot of places where the sentence structure disagrees with itself: Page 112, "Practically hopping up and down as he reached the entranced, Cylvan just rolled his eyes and stepped off to the side." The first half of the sentence is grammatically describing Cylvan, but it's actually Saffron who's doing the hopping. And this exact structure shows up a lot. There are sooo many sentences that are structured "[Verb]ing, [character] does blahblah..." but in many cases the prose would be better served by a simpler construction, e.g. "Saffron was practically hopping up and down by the time he reached the entrance, but Cylvan just rolled his eyes and stepped off to the side." I don't know if this is the kind of thing anyone else notices but I noticed it to the point of being distracted by it, at least in the beginning.

Additionally, I do honestly feel like we skimmed past the part where Cylvan sets Saffron up to basically be gang-raped a little too quickly? Either that or I read a much more severe implication into the party scene with the powdered fairy fruits, but to me it felt like Cylvan gave Saffron the fruit knowing it would make him incapable of consent, which is why he split so fast after... And then it's like largely not touched on ever again, even in the scene where Cylvan is begging forgiveness. That was kinda wild.

But still, despite the above gripes I did enjoy the book and I'll probably read books 2 and 3, while crossing my fingers deeply that it doesn't take until the end of book 3 for them to finally figure it out and get together...

Rating: ★★★☆☆ - I enjoyed the read and would recommend it to people who enjoy this genre and subject, but at this time I feel I'm not likely to re-read.

Daunis is a child of two very different worlds, descended from both the historically French settlers of her Michigan town and the native Ojibwe people who live on a reservation nearby--and yet, she doesn't quite fit into either place. After putting her dreams of university on hold to care for her mother following a family tragedy, Daunis doesn't have too much going for her, except for Jamie--a new recruit on her brother's hockey team, who's kind and charming and very similar to Daunis in his relationship to his own Native family.

Soon thereafter, though, tragedy strikes Daunis' community yet again, thrusting her into the heart of a criminal investigation that takes her undercover to investigate the very tribe that she grew up with. But the more death, betrayal, and deception she witnesses, the more it calls into question how far Daunis is willing to go to protect her community, and in fact who her community needs protection from.

I absolutely loved this book--it literally made me cry twice. What an absolutely gorgeous exploration of not only the tragedy and pain facing Native rez communities today, but at the same time the joy and power of Native culture and community. It would be so easy for a less talented (or non-#OwnVoices) author to turn this narrative into tragedy porn, but Boulley expertly weaves together threads of generational trauma and institutionalized violence and colonization into a rich, thoughtful, nuanced tapestry. And woven in right alongside those threads of trauma are equally strong threads of good medicine and the wisdom of elders and powerful women and the strength and importance of indigeneity and language.

And the thing is, this isn't just fiction. As I read, I was also reminded of the continuing injustice for missing and murdered Indigenous women in the US and Canada every day, and how critical it is that we not turn our eyes away. These are real questions and problems that are faced by Native communities in the real world, and so my urging would be that if you read and loved this book like I did, that you also give your attention to the non-fictional Native people who need support in their fight against injustice and governmental neglect.

Following a messy and way-too-public breakup with his ex-boyfriend, pop star Hunter and his group Kiss & Tell are making their way around the US and Canada, playing arenas and meeting fans. All Hunter wants is to focus on the band and start working on their next album, but unfortunately he can't escape the press that's dogging his heels--and as the only gay member of the group, he finds himself held to way higher standards than the other, straighter members of the group.

This leaves Hunter basically on his own as he tries to navigate what it means to be the perfect queer idol, whether that's blindly following the expectations of his label (even down to what he eats and how he dresses) or getting involved with the drummer for Kiss & Tell's tour opener. Wait a second, that last one might turn out not to be the best idea Hunter's ever had...

It's refreshing to read a book that approaches topics around queerness and particularly young queer sexuality with so much... frankness. Like, the reality is that teenage queers send spicy but ill-advised texts and have messy, awkward sex and-- critically for this book--don't always make fully logical, cool-headed decisions when under a lot of pressure. At times while reading I would think to myself "just fucking communicate!!!" and then I would remember myself at 17 and how I thought I had it so together but was actually thoroughly incapable of articulating my feelings and needs, and would then think "ah... nevermind."

Because I read and loved Khorram's previous Darius the Great series this came as no surprise, but I think that this book does a great job of exploring the weird little nuances of a bunch of young people who have had fame thrust upon them trying to navigate their interpersonal relationships and the challenges and intersections of their respective identities, and it does it all with such a wry and heartfelt narrative voice. Hunter is charming, he's funny, and he's definitely in a little bit over his head but trying to make the best of it, and as a former queer teenager myself that was relatable as hell.

If I were to pick one, my only gripe is that I feel like we didn't get quite enough time spent with our main couple at the end of the story--but then again, it's not like the romantic relationship was entirely the point, so that's easily forgivable for me.

Rating: ★★★☆☆ - I enjoyed the read and would recommend it to people who enjoy this genre and subject, but at this time I feel I'm not likely to re-read.