As with Basia, I found this book more enjoyable than the first one. Not only was the case more interesting (although still rather fantastical, at the end of the day--but then, what does one expect from a steampunk tale featuring both the niece of Sherlock Holmes and, more to the point, a vampire slaying teenager?), but I was very appreciative that we got to see more of Miss Stoker's Particular Talents (TM). Mina and Evaline's rather tenuous partnership is bolstered throughout this novel by their lively debates about the existence (or nonexistence) of everything from the UnDead to genuine mediums. They might not be ready to call themselves friends, per se, but the growth in their relationship and mutual understanding made this book a better read than the first. They are both clearly growing in their own areas of expertise, too, which is a delight to behold.

And then we come to the bitter point of the book: Dylan. Once again, our Outsider is stepping into the savior role and bringing his Superior Understanding to matters both trivial and serious. In an otherwise fairly character-driven mystery-esque series, he sticks out like sore thumb. While some of the feats he performs here would be interesting on their own, his presumptuousness in the face of Society's values still rubs me the wrong way. 

Overall, Gleason managed to captivate me from page one--I devoured this entire book in something like four or five hours--and while I felt there were too few scenes with one Scottish Inspector and too many with the American interloper, I will admit the puppy made up for both.

After the Dylan-heavy narrative of The Spiritglass Charade, I must admit I found his relative absence in The Chess Queen Enigma most refreshing.

(He still managed to irk me to no end and play the Outsider Savior trope to perfection, though, so don't get your hopes up too high. He's an entirely too convenient character for me to find any enjoyment in his presence.)

And yet--despite that, Enigma is easily the best of the three Stoker & Holmes novels to date. There's an elegance in Gleason's handling of plot and character that was hinted at in Spiritglass and noticeably absent in The Clockwork Scarab: in short, her writing has improved with the series, and witnessing that is an utter joy. While the narrative in Scarab felt a bit scattered and in Spiritglass a bit too wrapped up in Dylan, Enigma handles these more gently. 

The relationship between Mina and Evaline continues to grow as they work on their newest case from opposite ends, but what truly stood out about this narrative was the presence of Inspector Grayling, our resident Scottish detective who also happens to have the most adorable puppy of all time. His relationship with Mina grows, as one might expect, but what struck me as truly revolutionary was the unexpected friendship that arose between Evaline and Grayling. Also, there were some totally great, badass fight scenes in this book for more than just our vampire-slaying heroine. 

In truth, the only downside to finishing both of these within twenty-two hours is that waiting for the next feels agonizing.

Reading a Stiefvater book always makes me feel as if I've found a part of myself I thought I'd lost, and closing the book once I've finished leaves me feeling oddly bereft again, as if I can only hold onto the magic for as long as I'm reading the book.

The Raven King is like that, and it is so much more. It is magical and terrible and beautiful and heartbreaking all in one, and my heart aches because this series speaks so clearly to my soul and I will miss it with every fiber of my being. There are unanswered questions but ones that are not so much "plot holes" or "loose ends" but things that allow you, as a reader, to hope.

​It was exactly what an ending should be: it both satisfies and leaves you wanting. I have an indescribable longing after finishing this book, a longing for that something more, but I can't tell you what it is. I don't long for something from Maggie; it's something else, something both related and unrelated to the book and the series as a whole.

​The book hangover is going to be so, so real. Thanks for the ride, Stiefvater. Excelsior.

This book has everything you could want and then some: varied and interesting women with occupations from blogger to superhero to bodyguard; a tall, curmudgeonly man who wears black; childhood friendships; a healthy appreciation for karaoke. While the beginning takes some perseverance to get through, it's well worth it. In the blink of an eye, it sucks you in and keeps hold of you until you go from narrow-eyed trepidation to wide-eyed obsession.

The beautiful thing is the tone Kuhn uses: equal parts lighthearted and serious, it tackles real issues without detracting from the narrative. It is never preachy or too on the nose but is enough to leave you considering the issues mentioned, however fleetingly. Evie is hilariously direct and bracingly self-aware in a way not often found in millennial narrators. The relationships--platonic and romantic--are approached with a realness that is refreshing, excising the unnecessary cliche dramatics in favor of more relatable, honest conversations.
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And that's without including the totally great outfits, kickass fight scenes, sex scenes that are equal parts endearing and hilarious, and copious pop culture references that felt apt but never heavy-handed. Not to mention all of the Lucky Charms.

From lady Asian superheroes and pop culture references (which, impressively, did not have the overbearing, heavy-handed feel I've come to expect from such things) to karaoke nights and lady bodyguards to a brooding scientist and childhood friends... I was pretty much destined to love this book.

Kuhn aptly navigates the difficult task of keeping the prose light and fun without sweeping away the struggles and sorrows the characters encounter, making Heroine Complex one of those few novels that manages to tackle the weight of the world--racism! sexism! the male centered gaze! dead parents! absentee parents! disappointed parents! fanged demons from the Otherworld!--without leaving the reader staggering underneath that weight. I was especially delighted to see how deftly Kuhn handles the dynamics of childhood friends, giving them the gravitas I have often noted in my own. The frankness of Evie's narrative voice is refreshing, humorous, and thought provoking. The genuine care and frustration between herself and her fellow characters is much the same. I look forward to seeing what they do after this book.
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There are also a bunch of kickass fight scenes AND a karaoke match to the death--am I exaggerating? Am I not? Who knows!--and I am ALL about both of those.