I was somewhat concerned this might not live up to the previous two novels, but once again Ritter's prose delivers in SPADES. Ghostly Echoes is both compelling and delightful to behold--humorous in all the right places and detailed in all the curious ones, with our regular motley crew and a number of interesting additions to keep things moving forward. ​Besides, there aren't many books that I'd drive across town (through traffic, no less) to deliver to Basia's door when I know she won't even be there to say hello. 

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.

I first read this novel years ago when I discovered Patricia C. Wrede's Enchanted Forest Chronicles and wanted to try her other books. I devoured it (and the sequels, which are not quite as delightful but still Quite Good).

Sorcery and Cecelia is the account of two outrageously fun cousins, Cecelia and Kate, and their even more outrageous adventures as they accidentally stumble into a world of magic and intrigue.

... Well, somewhat accidentally, anyway. Cecy and Kate are prone to these things (see also: the goat incident). Their letters do an excellent job of expressing their wit, their frustration, and their single-minded determination that they "simply must Do Something," a phrase I've happily adopted for my own purposes since I first read it, and I wholeheartedly recommend this to fans of fantasy and magical realism alike. 

We're happy to introduce Sorcery and Cecelia for our second book drop! Keep an eye out for details--we'll be sharing them soon. 

This book used the phrase "sweet girl parts" on page two, so I didn't quite know what to expect going in, but I was already wary.

​The three main characters have voices that are remarkably distinct, especially in a book where perspective shifts so often, which was refreshing and made it easy for me to focus on the story instead of becoming mired in the question of whose narrative voice I was reading. But it's also the sort of book where I didn't really like​ any of the protagonists, and while that itself is not a problem, I'm unsure if that was intended by the author, which is a disconnect that always leaves a funny taste in my mouth.

​I didn't at all dislike the book, I enjoyed its strangeness, but the ending was a bit too vanilla for my tastes. I felt as if it was trying too hard to be a "happy ending," in its own way, at least, which counteracted a lot of the almost threatening strangeness of the rest of the narrative.
​

I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about this book. It's a quick read, and I would recommend it for anyone who enjoys a quirky, curious sort of read.

The writing style is remarkable, mostly because I'm in awe of how Tucholke manages to vary her style and tone for each of the three narrators (who are named, you guessed it, Wink, Poppy, and Midnight). The plot is curiously ethereal; while I didn't predict anywhere near all of the twists it would take, the novel was too dreamy for me to be thoroughly surprised at them. 

While I didn't become particularly invested in any of the characters, I did enjoy this book and all the weirdness it provoked. The ending doesn't tie everything up in a nice little bow, but this is a dreamy sort of novel which makes what might usually be unsatisfactory a bit more vague than that.

(like I said, I'm still not entirely sure what I think about this novel.)