You can find links to the mentioned articles below, as well as the poll for September's book of the month pick. Please vote!

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The time has come to vote for our September book of the month! Our September theme, Back to Our Roots, brought numerous suggestions from all of you, and we're incredibly excited about these options!

Just Like Home by Sarah Gailey 

“Come home.” Vera’s mother called and Vera obeyed. In spite of their long estrangement, in spite of the memories ― she's come back to the home of a serial killer. Back to face the love she had for her father and the bodies he buried there, beneath the house he'd built for his family.

Coming home is hard enough for Vera, and to make things worse, she and her mother aren’t alone. A parasitic artist has moved into the guest house out back and is slowly stripping Vera’s childhood for spare parts. He insists that he isn’t the one leaving notes around the house in her father’s handwriting… but who else could it possibly be?

There are secrets yet undiscovered in the foundations of the notorious Crowder House. Vera must face them and find out for herself just how deep the rot goes. 

The Beginning Comes After the End by Rebecca Solnit

In this sequel to her enduring bestseller Hope in the Dark, Solnit surveys a world that has changed dramatically since the year 1960. Despite the forces seeking to turn back the clock on history, change is not a possibility; it is an inevitability.

The changes amount to nothing less than dismantling an old civilization and building a new one, whose newness is often the return of the old ways and wisdoms. In this rising worldview, interconnection is a core idea and value. But because the transformation is obscured within a longer arc of history, its scale is seldom recognized.

While the white nationalist and authoritarian backlash drives individualism and isolation, this new world embraces antiracism, feminism, a more expansive understanding of gender, environmental thinking, scientific breakthroughs, and Indigenous and non-Western ideas, pointing toward a more interconnected, relational world.

Daughter in Exile by Bisi Adjapon

Lola is twenty-one, and her life in Senegal couldn’t be better. An aspiring writer and university graduate, she has a great job, a nice apartment, a vibrant social life, and a future filled with possibility. But fate disrupts her world when she falls for Armand, an American Marine stationed at the U.S. Embassy. Her mother, a high court judge in Ghana, disapproves of her choice, but nothing will stop Lola from boarding a plane for Armand and America.

That fateful flight is only the beginning of an extraordinary journey; she has traded her carefree existence in Senegal for the perilous position of an undocumented immigrant in 1990s America.

Lola encounters adversity that would crush a less-determined woman. Her fate hangs on whether or not she’ll grow in courage to forge a different life from one she’d imagined, whether she’ll succeed in putting herself and family together again. Daughter in Exile is a hope-filled story about mother love, resilience, and unyielding strength.

Sankofa by Chibundu Onuzo

Anna grew up in England with her white mother and knowing very little about her West African father. In middle age, after separating from her husband and with her daughter all grown up, she finds herself alone and wondering who she really is. Her mother's death leads her to find her father's student diaries, chronicling his involvement in radical politics in 1970s London. She discovers that he eventually became the president - some would say the dictator - of Bamana in West Africa. And he is still alive.

She decides to track him down and so begins a funny, painful, fascinating journey, and an exploration of race, identity and what we pass on to our children. 

All That She Carried by Tiya Miles

In 1850s South Carolina, an enslaved woman named Rose faced a crisis: the imminent sale of her daughter Ashley. Thinking quickly, she packed a cotton bag for her with a few items, and, soon after, the nine-year-old girl was separated from her mother and sold. Decades later, Ashley’s granddaughter Ruth embroidered this family history on the sack in spare, haunting language. 

Historian Tiya Miles carefully traces these women’s faint presence in archival records, and, where archives fall short, she turns to objects, art, and the environment to write a singular history of the experience of slavery, and the uncertain freedom afterward, in the United States. All That She Carried is a poignant story of resilience and love passed down against steep odds. It honors the creativity and resourcefulness of people who preserved family ties when official systems refused to do so, and it serves as a visionary illustration of how to reconstruct and recount their stories today. 

The Serviceberry by Robin Wall Kimmerer

As Indigenous scientist and author of Braiding Sweetgrass Robin Wall Kimmerer harvests serviceberries alongside the birds, she considers the ethic of reciprocity that lies at the heart of the gift economy. How, she asks, can we learn from Indigenous wisdom and the plant world to reimagine what we value most? Our economy is rooted in scarcity, competition, and the hoarding of resources, and we have surrendered our values to a system that actively harms what we love. Meanwhile, the serviceberry’s relationship with the natural world is an embodiment of reciprocity, interconnectedness, and gratitude. The tree distributes its wealth—its abundance of sweet, juicy berries—to meet the needs of its natural community. And this distribution ensures its own survival. As Kimmerer explains, “Serviceberries show us another model, one based upon reciprocity, where wealth comes from the quality of your relationships, not from the illusion of self-sufficiency.”

As Elizabeth Gilbert writes, Robin Wall Kimmerer is “a great teacher, and her words are a hymn of love to the world.” The Serviceberry is an antidote to the broken relationships and misguided goals of our times, and a reminder that “hoarding won’t save us, all flourishing is mutual.”

Robin Wall Kimmerer is donating her advance payments from this book as a reciprocal gift, back to the land, for land protection, restoration, and justice.

All That’s Unseen: An Appalachian Memoir by Emilee Hackney

Born and raised deep in the hollers of the Appalachian Mountains, Emilee Hackney knew little beyond the ridgelines and coalfields of southwest Virginia. As an eighth-generation Appalachian, her childhood was steeped in the stories of her grandparents—tales of the coal mines’ brutal grip and the way the land, both beautiful and unforgiving, never quite let anyone go. At fourteen, Emilee meets Sam, a senior at her high school, who offers her a glimpse at a promising future together. But as they begin attending services at Deliverance Christian Church as a couple, Emilee is thrust into the radical realm of Pentecostalism. In a culture where marriage at nineteen isn’t uncommon, Emilee is engaged to Sam. Eager to make her relationship work, she embraces the extremist doctrines of the religion, submitting herself fully to God, to Sam, and to a life of repentance. But what she doesn’t yet know is the man she plans to marry is not who he claims to be.

Years later, Emilee finds herself isolated from friends, family, and her own sense of truth. Wracked with shame and self-doubt, she reaches a breaking point. On the verge of spiraling out of control, in a stunning act of defiance and hope, she applies to Harvard; against all odds, she is accepted. From the magisterial mountains of Tazewell to the storied halls of Cambridge, Emilee begins the arduous process of reinventing herself and her relationships with her home, faith, and values against the backdrop of the divisive 2016 election. All That’s Unseen is Emilee Hackney’s fiercely honest memoir about spiritual entrapment, hard-won liberation, and the courage to reclaim her voice after she had been taught to stay silent. 

The Dream Builders by Oindrila Mukherjee

Creative writing professor Maneka Roy has not returned to India in years, and when she arrives in her home country to mourn the loss of her mother, she finds herself in a new world. The booming city of Hrishipur where her father now lives is nothing like the historic neighborhood where she grew up, and the more she sees of this new, sparkling city, the more she learns that nothing—and no one—in Hrishipur is as it appears. 

From handsome young photographer Ashok, who charms Maneka one night at a party, to her immaculately groomed friend Ramona, who dreams of a perfect future in a new apartment complex even as she struggles with her marriage in the present, and the bitter but determined electrician Gopal, whose furtive plan for the complex just might undermine everything Ramona—and everyone else in support of its construction—has hoped for, it’s clear that everyone in Hrishipur is hiding secrets. And as the summer temperatures soar to record highs, the longings and resentments of the community members simmer until they come to a shocking boil. Ultimately, it will take a tragic event that no one saw coming for Maneka and the others to finally understand just how fragile life is in this city built on aspirations.

In smart, propulsive prose, written from the perspectives of ten different characters, Oindrila Mukherjee’s incisive debut novel explores class divisions, gender roles, and stories of survival within a society that is constantly changing and becoming increasingly Americanized. Her story of Hrishipur is not only the story of India today, but the story of people impacted by globalization everywhere: a tale of ambition, longing, love, and bitter loss that asks what it really costs to try and build a dream.

Wild Seed by Octavia E. Butler

Doro is an entity who changes bodies like clothes, killing his hosts by reflex or design. He fears no one until he meets Anyanwu. Anyanwu is a shapeshifter who can absorb bullets and heal with a kiss and savage anyone who threatens her. She fears no one until she meets Doro. Together they weave a pattern of destiny (from Africa to the New World) unimaginable to mortals.

Hi folks!

Thanks for being here on my Bindery journey. I’ve had a big think and I’ve decided to change up some things. I started Bindery as a book reviewer, but in the past six months I’ve transitioned into more of an author (who still hypes up books that I love).

Given that switch, Bindery is no longer the best place for me to be spending my energy. These days my writing time is taken up more with writing books, leaving less energy for written reviews and recommendations.

So here’s what I’ve decided to do:

1. I’ve removed the Disco Dancer paid tier, so now all of my Bindery is free

2. I’m keeping the free tier for Bindery, but the updates will be less regular, as and when I have something I just have to shout about

3. Bindery subscribers will be added to my author newsletter, which is run through my website: discobarrington.carrd.co. If you don’t want to continue with that, you can easily unsubscribe!

4. I’m keeping the Discotopia Discord, I love our little community there, come say hi!

That’s it! Do let me know if you have any concerns or questions.

There’s a lot of exciting author stuff on the horizon. My book This is How the World Ends is coming out on 16th September, available to preorder from Amazon and Kobo, and you can now order in to bookshops.

I’ve also written a novel and a novella this year! The novel is currently on submission (wish me luck) and the novella is in the editing phase.

I feel so lucky to be in this position, and really grateful for all the support I’ve received. Special thanks to my Disco Dancers for supporting me, I hope you enjoyed the reviews and recs and found some new favourites.

All I have ever wanted is to champion diverse books and authors, and I’m really happy I’m still doing that in some fashion while I’m writing my own diverse books.

Anyways, much love, you’re all awesome.

Disco x

Summary

Africa Is Not A Country is a bright portrait of modern Africa that pushes back against harmful stereotypes to tell a more comprehensive story.

Review

Wish I was still teaching world literature so I could use this book in a classroom. Super accessible, engaging, and informative.

What I learned

• Unilever started as a private company called the United African Company that was used by Britian to invade and take control over local empires in Africa. The British eventually bought these territorities and formed Nigeria.

• In 1984, Ethiopia took money from NGOs to help with famine, but a portion of the money was also used to systemically force innocent people to relocate. 100,000 Ethiopians died as a result of a policy that was partially funded by aid agencies.

• Somalia was a strategic ally to the U.S. during the Cold War and the Reagan administration offered Somalia $120 million in annual miliatary, econcomic, and refugee aid. The administration used this money to fund an ethnic cleansing campaign against the Isaaq ethnic group. An estimated 200,000 Somali civilians were killed.

• Muammar Gaddafi had a weird obsession with US Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. After his death, an entire photo album that featured only photos of her was found in his home.

• There were giant walls in the Kingdom of Benin that are believed to have been four times the length of the Great Wall of China.

"The lack of precision and the laziness of thought, language and solutions regarding depotism in Africa stops us from getting to the various root causes and coming up with sustainable fizes to ensure that the dynamics that maintain them are removed as nations continue to establish themselves."

• In the early 1900s, Germany conducted the first genocide of the century in Namibia, a country that didn't gain independence until 1990. Due to land theft and cultural destruction as a result of colonisation, the Herero and Nama people in Namibia revolted in order to reclaim their land. As a result, 80% of the Herero population and 50% of the Nama people were murdered by the German army. The estimated death toll is at around 100,000.

  • This is also when Germany first tested out the concept of a concentraion camp where they sent prisoners to die from starvation, slave labor, and racist scientific experiments that was later used to foster the Nazi ideology of race purity.

  • 4,000 skeletons of the victims of this genocide were sent to the American Museum of Natural History where they still remain.

  
  

Hello and welcome girls, gays & theys of the Sapph-Lit Literary Salon! I am so grateful that you've decided to join us on this new exciting venture.

You've signed up for a quarterly subscription box, curated by Sapph-Lit authors, and all the exclusive content, meetings, and opportunities that comes with it. Let's break down what that means and what you can expect to come to your doorstep and your inbox.

Your first box containing MOSTLY DEAD THINGS by Kristen Arnett (chosen by Kim Narby, author of Sapph-Lit's SATURN RETURNING) will ship in November, and we will have our discussion with Kristen and Kim on January 9th at 1pm EST. I know that's so far away, but mark your calendars now!!

I will be sharing additional Zoom information in our private Literary Salon Discord channel, so make sure your Discord is connected to your Bindery settings so you can access that.

Your second book box, curated by Annabel Paulsen & Lydia Wang (authors of Sapph-Lit's CREATIVE DIFFERENCES), will ship in February. I can't wait to tell you what book they chose!!

For our first book box, I'll be sharing posts on Bindery as I read the book, starting in November! I'll share a full length review of the book from my POV, my annotations, questions I want to ask Kristen during our conversation, and anything else that inspires me while reading ahead of our conversation! If there's any specific content you'd like to see for the book we read as a Salon, comment below :)

This tier also includes discounts on Sapph-Lit Bindery titles and merch, physical ARCs of our upcoming novels published by Sapph-Lit, free tickets to Sapph-Lit events in New York City, and priority access to any future benefits Sapph-Lit and Bindery cook up.

If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to reach out! xoxo Nina

Icarus continues. Just mass posting a bunch of chapters because I did a ton of work on this. As always, any comments or demands for changes or notes are beyond welcome so feel free to hurt my feelings. I'm very tough to rattle.

Chapter 3

The horses were the first to sense the wrongness of the thatched farmhouse. They whinnied and hesitated, attempting to turn back on their own. Icarus coaxed his with gentle clucks and whispered words of affirmation. Maren stroked the neck of her mare until she calmed enough to be tethered at the hitching post. They observed the house first -- windows shuttered, one left open for light revealed empty panes where glass should be. 

No animals bellowed in the field. No chickens clucking content or sheep bleating with impatience. It was eerily quiet. Groaning wood pulled their heightened attention to the door. A man -- mid forties, gray at the temples, impressive mustache obscuring his mouth -- stood wild-eyed and exhausted. He beckoned them to the house and disappeared back inside. 

The two priests exchanged a look and Icarus took the lead. Mud gave under his boots unpleasantly. He wiped his feet on the woven straw doormat and paused at the threshold. From his pocket he withdrew a rosary, polish long since worried away. He wrapped it around his hand and stepped inside. Behind him, Maren reached into one of her pouches and withdrew a handful of salt mixed with dried thyme and yarrow. She poured it from her hand like a funnel in a perfect, practiced line along the doorway before stepping over it into the large living room. It glowed faint ivory in the dark. 

The man wiped his hands on a towel, too tired to study them or be concerned about what they were, “Thank you for coming on short notice, Father… ah…”

“Ulrich. Icarus, if you like,” he supplied and gestured, “and Father Maren Fowler. You must be Argus.”

Argus eyed the line of salt with a weary nod, “Aye. A salt magician. Been a long time since one has been ‘round these hills.”

Maren inclined her head before taking in the room. When she spotted the two terrified faces huddled on the straw-filled sofa, she tilted her head in greeting, “Dia dhuit. Hello.”

The girls were younger than he had expected, probably twelve and fifteen. Margaret’s file had her at nineteen, but it did not register exactly how young that was until then. Much too young for whatever was happening to her. They scrambled to the corner of the mattress and huddled together. It seemed they still had the energy to bend to ignorance about what they were. 

“I’ll take you to her,” Argus offered with a note of apology he would never speak aloud, “Connor has been keeping vigil by the door.”

They climbed the creaking stairs and caught the whispering prayers in the breeze that crossed the paneless windows. Margaret’s husband sat propped against a sealed door papered with pages of the Pale Doctrine likely set by Father Simon during his first attempt. At the sight of the two priests, he scrambled to his feet and thumbed his rosary. 

“Dia dhuit,” he nodded, dark hair falling across his forehead he attempted to flick away, “thank you, Fathers. Thank you for coming. My wife…”

“Tell us how it started,” Icarus scanned the pages and read the prayers and spells, giving Connor something to do while he did.

The trembling young man nodded, “Yes. Well. She said she was going to the field to pick wild thyme and rosemary. She was always vigilant about those things, always keeping the doorways protected. Anyway, she was late coming back. Very late. We were getting ready to search the fields when we saw her.”

“Walking up the road like she was sleeping,” Argus interjected. “She didn’t react until I shook her, then she screamed like I’d woken her from a nightmare.”

“She slept for two days,” Connor continued, “and barely ate. She was paranoid, far away. I caught her talking to herself in the middle of the night, standing in a corner of the room. Then… then she started… knowing things.”

“Things she should not,” the two men spoke like a call and response, filling in the beats for each other when it was too much, “about me, Connor, her sisters. Her mother. When she broke the chickens’ necks, we called for Father Franklin to come sit with her a while. After that, she terrorized her sisters. Hiding under their beds, dragging them into closets. She stabbed Molly in the leg with a fork and we couldn’t let her roam around anymore so we… shackled her. Made sure she stayed put.”

Connor was nodding along, tears shining at the rim of his eyes. Icarus took a step back from the door, “Franklin said she… skitters. Can you explain that?”

The men exchanged alarmed looks. Neither of them moved to speak and he did not offer an alternative to the question. Behind the door, he heard something shuffling. Slow at first, then faster. Wary. Unsure. It sensed him on the other side. 

“When she moves,” Argus swallowed hard, “she crouches low, like she’s walking on her finger and toenails. It makes this scratching sound on the wood. When she’s in a fury, her hands burn the floorboards.”

“She hides under the bed?” Maren probed and moved to stand beside Icarus in the cramped hallway. They were both listening, gauging their unseen opponent before the battle had begun.

“Y-yes,” Connor affirmed, “but she shouldn’t be able to. It’s too small. Her… her limbs… they don’t move right. None of her does. Her eyes are too big. She bends… wrong.”

Neither priest asked more questions. A gesture from Icarus and Argus handed him the key to the door. When it was apparent they were not needed, both men backed to the far end of the hall unwilling to fully retreat to the perceived safety of the living room. Icarus slid the key in the lock and paused. He wrapped his rosary around his hand and raised two fingers to make the sign of the cross. 

He turned the key and the lock clicked, the door opened at the lightest press of his fingers. He crossed into the room and stopped when he was just inside. Thyme and yarrow filled the air when Maren laid a crisp line of luminous salt at the door. She kissed her rosary beads nestled against her knuckles and signed the cross before stepping over the threshold. 

The air flexed. Too warm, too weighed down by something that had no name. He was already sweating under his cassock. This part rarely bothered him anymore, they all tried the same things. One trick ponies, the lot of them. He hesitated at the door and let his eyes adjust to the abnormal dark. He spotted the faint shine of eyes in the corner. Often mistaken for a trick of the light, the eyes always glowed a little when they were occupied by a second presence. 

He walked slowly, keeping a wide berth, “Well, look at you. Why don’t you come here and let me see you?”

The laugh was preternatural, clearly not the voice of the slight woman it set up shop in, “Why don’t you come here and let me touch you, priest?”

It tracked him as he moved from the door to the opposite wall of the room. They sized each other up. Icarus kept his movement calm and deliberate. He unzipped the Dopp kit and withdrew his copy of the Pale Doctrine, placing the pouch on the windowsill. It crouched on all fours, tucking itself farther back into the corner. 

He kept its attention on him, let it ignore Maren. The other priest opened her rites kit and withdrew an old brass bowl pressed with sigils, scorched on the inside from overuse. She filled it with dried mugwort and thyme, then set it ablaze. The smoke drifted through the air and its attention snapped to her. She froze -- waiting, watching. 

“Why don’t you save us the trouble and give me your name, demon?” Icarus’s voice stayed level, almost bored. The subtly off-human face turned back to him. He could feel its annoyance building.

It laughed, low and dark, “The last priest said the same thing. Look how that turned out for him. How’s the leg, by the way?”

Maren moved cautiously. Her hand slipped into the bag of salt and she began to pour. The two priests moved in a slow arc, opposite directions. Icarus kept it on him while she worked. These things always fixated on whoever was the loudest, they could not split their attention the way a human could. 

“If you won’t give me your name,” he smirked his challenge in the dark, “then I’ll take it.”

He touched the first page of the Pale Doctrine and the paper turned incandescent, off-white and gentle. No need to jump right to the blue-tinged blood magic. Test it first, see if it was just weak Calderism and typical Church failure. He tore the page free and cast it in front of the creature. 

“Saint Lazriel the avenging angel, sword at the gate, wielder of holy fire,” Icarus watched the shifting light behind the eyes, “I call thee down into this vessel to cast your light upon this darkness.”

The page went rigid and melded into the floor. The creature stepped towards him, curious, and leaned over it. It snickered and ran a nail over the paper, tearing it at the corner.

“Wield me as your blade and avenge the Lord our Pale God’s sacred creation,” another torn page, another rigid paper. He tore and spoke, his tone deep and rising. Each one forming a slow, deliberate half-circle around the figure, “Strike this creature from untainted flesh and banish this abomination under your burning gaze back to the monstrous realm from which it comes!”

The chain slithered and clanked when it pulled tight. Margaret’s body lunged across the room for him. A roar in its throat snagged against the shackle around its neck. It stopped short of reaching him. Claws raked the air. Its face contorted. Icarus examined it. The eyes bulged, too big for the head and pupils too blown into the sclera to be natural. Its mouth split almost to the ear, teeth doubled in its jaws. Finger joints were over-long, talons instead of nails, dark with splintered wood and blood. 

He tore another page, “Reveal yourself and be unmade in the eyes of the Lord.”

Unbothered by its effort to reach him, he pressed the luminous paper to its forehead and it snarled. Body rigid, cramping, curling in on itself like a dying spider. Icarus knew better. He rolled his eyes and tore another free, layering it over the last.

“I said reveal yourself and be unmade in the eyes of the Lord!” He shouted and tore, layering, repeating, demanding. The body jerked and flailed with each new sheet over its skin. It sank and thrashed and wailed. 

The pale light flickered and failed. Gospel fluttered from its face to the bedroom floor. A low, bitter laugh filled all corners of the room. Walls bowed and tilted, “Your Pale God has no power here, Father.”

Spit sizzled at his feet. Icarus frowned and sighed, “Show yourself, whatever you are.”

“You’re not even trying,” it chuckled and eased disjointedly to its too-long feet. “At least make this interesting!”

“I didn’t need to try,” he smiled. A menacing thing stretched across his haggard face, “I needed to buy time.”

The creature faltered and stepped back, looking around in a rising panic. Just in time to see Maren completing her wide circle of salt. It rushed her and shrieked. Too late. The salt ring gleamed, illuminating the bedroom, and pulled them back into reality. She was unmoved by its violence, patient on the other side of the ring.

“Not a demon,” she tilted her head. “Why don’t you show us what you are?”

It snapped its jaws futilely at her, raking and lunging. Every effort it made to reach across the barrier blocked by a wall it could not overtake. Each strike made the magic in the salt flare. 

“You bitch!” It frothed and stalked the ring, looking for weak points. Maren never left weak points.

Icarus pulled the stole from his shoulders and rolled up his sleeves. He plucked the silver knife from its hidden place in the knotted fabric around his waist and tossed it into the air with cocky flourish. With a practiced hand, he caught it by the handle. The creature stopped moving and stared. Something behind its warped expression adjusted. It recalculated according to the mathematics written on his arms. When he raised the knife to his palm, it tried to recoil. The salt flared when its back hit the invisible wall. 

He opened the skin, so accustomed to the bite he no longer felt it. Maren drew hers across the meat of her forearm. Mirrors of each other, two priests sinking their teeth into magic they should not be able to taste. Blood splattered along the floor and began to steam. Electricity crackled across the beams, crawling down skin and settling deep into bone. He let his head fall back and sighed into the feeling, the power. It coursed through him, pumping into his veins with every beat of his rotting heart. 

Maren’s hands moved swiftly in the air. A trail of blue-white light followed the patterns she sketched. He kept her movement at the edges of his vision when he came back to the present moment. His hands flexed and he felt heat gather in his palms. Thin blue flames lapped painlessly at his fingers, eager for his command. 

He stepped over the salt. Sound muffled. 

The creature lunged. 

He sidestepped and struck his fist into its shoulder. It reared back and doubled down. He met the vicious blows with precise strikes, the fire sizzled against its exposed skin. Forearm met the space between thumb and forefinger. Flesh scorched. It withdrew screaming. The thing dropped to the ground and skittered towards the edge of the arena -- because that was what this had become. The place where the ritual of combat was performed. 

“Corrupted priest,” it hissed through gritted teeth. “Tainted. Rotten. Obscured from the eyes of your worthless God.”

He rolled out his shoulders and moved along the ring, “I sacrifice my immortal soul as an instrument of the Lord. I will be greeted in Heaven by archangels. You, on the other hand, will simply turn to dust.”

It scrambled low, gouging floorboards in its haste to strike his leg. He kicked it in the face. It tumbled onto its back and he closed the gap. When it drew up on its knees, he saw the sigil shuddering to life under Maren’s practiced coil of her hands. She cast her fingers forward as if throwing a lifeline. What was etched in the air seared into the ground under the creature. Whatever curse it uttered died on its tongue. 

The sigil writhed. Spirals lashed its wrists and held the monster on its knees. Another forced its head back and exposed its throat. Icarus loomed over the trapped thing and shouted. The timbre of his voice split into two tones layered endlessly over each other, “If you will not be unmade by the Lord, you will be unmade by me!”

He gripped its face under his palm. It screamed against the burning magic in his hands. He jerked its head back as if trying to shake something loose. One brutal thrust of his hand. Another. Then another. Something broke free from the woman’s body. 

The dark silhouette lay motionless, but time was limited. He undid the shackle at Margaret’s neck, cupping her face in his palms. She stared at him, her face very human and very frightened. Wild-eyed, her terror rose and she twisted to see what had been thrown from her. He kept her fixed on him.

“Margaret, I need you to get up and get out of here,” he murmured quickly, “and do not break the salt. Do you understand?” She nodded, but he could see in her face she was not hearing him. He released her and snapped his fingers when she began to scramble, “Do not break the salt!” 

She slowed, another nod more lucid than the first, “Y-yes. Yes.”

Her movements were shaken and careful. She hiked the hem of her nightdress and put all her focus on stepping over the line as deliberately as she could. When she was over it, she ran. Maren touched her shoulder intending to assure her, but the panicked woman was unaware of anything except leaving that room. They listened for the cries of reunion in the hall, the hurried thunder of steps down into the living room, out the front door. 

The two priests redoubled their attention to the black, wicked shape that had begun to rise. At first the shadow was unfocused, then its edges began to sharpen. Joints popped, limbs forced back into place. It was disoriented, shaking its bulbous head to clear the fog. Maren began to twist her fingers again. She wove the pastel blue light like threads on a loom, embroidering complex patterns into empty space. Icarus reached back for the hilt of his sword and drew. The moment the blue fire in his hands touched the metal, neatly etched sigils flared to life along the flat of the blade made by Maren’s own hands. 

The thing focused on him now. Its too-wide jaws hung open, thick drool making a wet repetitive plop as it coursed over jagged teeth. Oblong limbs like bone under skin the color of muddy water stretched too tight. Its oversized eyes slit like a serpent’s, yellow-green and curious. Its toothy grin went wide with pleasant surprise. 

“Faefire,” its tone was a raspy, graveled sound. “A manhuman wielding faefire! Rarity, rarity!”

The glee gave Icarus pause. He narrowed his eyes and rolled the sword in his wrist before leveling it in an offensive stance. They never commented on the way his Netherism manifested before. The newness made him uneasy. 

It was different for all Netherists, tapping into faerie magic was unpredictable. Some were necromancers, some alchemists, others sigilists like Maren, but the creature was right -- Icarus had never met another Netherist who manifested faefire. He ignored the buoyancy in the thing’s attitude and took in its stretched out shape, the malformed head. Clearly not a bánánach. 

“A bodach,” he muttered and the creature took several too-fast tottering steps towards him. 

He swung the blade in a wide arc. It swerved away. He rode the momentum into a backhanded crescent. It hit home and carved into a leathery shoulder. Blue fire trailed every swing of the blade as if its echo was delayed. Dark ichor seeped from the wound, swallowed by the faefire channeled through steel. A high-pitched squeal tore from the creature and it lashed out at his leg. Talon caught fabric and ripped into his thigh. He growled against the flare of pain and danced backwards, mindful of the perimeter. 

He shook the ichor from his sword and waited. It studied him and dropped low again, elbows and knees bent backwards. These were fast monsters, contorting themselves to pass through reality faster than a human. The shell created by the ring protected their fragile pocket in time and kept the creature from warping its movement. Icarus slashed downward and nicked its bent-in elbow, parrying the low strike of its leg to draw a wound in what would be its calf. 

“Mare,” he warned, “help would be just lovely right about now!”

“Coming,” she grumbled. Sweat formed on her brow. Fragile threads of light wove into each other and she flicked her wrist, inverting a letter older than stone, “Bodach is different.”

The bodach squealed and bounded across the circle. He ducked. It slammed into the barrier and rolled with the force of it. Icarus cut vertically, blasting power through his hands so hard each sigil pulsed cobalt. The expulsion rocked the air and sent the bodach tumbling backwards. He sprinted across the circle and stabbed down hard. It moved away barely a breath ahead of him and he caught its ribs instead. Bone exposed through torn skin, the pale slate of fae skeleton bright against the ugly dark skin. 

It rolled back towards him and curved its other arm down, talons pinched together in a spear. He turned and braced, sword angled over his shoulder to block the coming blow. Its fingers split apart. He turned the handle, edge slicing between them. The monster screamed. It pushed, splitting the web of its hand even more. It was cutting its own arm in half to get to him. The sound made his stomach flip. Wet and crackling and full of rage. A creature willing to break itself into pieces to destroy him.

“Mare!” He shouted. His heart was pounding. He tried to divide his attention to its legs, catching movement by his feet. It was pressing him back. If he moved farther, he would break the salt and it would escape.

She grunted and the floor beneath him turned to embers, her pattern branded the boards and reached for the creature’s limbs. It fought the black tendrils that snared it. Each charcoal tentacle immobilized a limb, torso, neck. The bodach was spread wide and vulnerable, ruined hand flopping uselessly. Icarus exhaled and let his shoulders drop. She doubled over against her thighs, shoulders heaving in her battle for breath.

The bodach stared at him, an eerie calm juxtaposed against its desperate thrashing a moment before. He rolled the blade in his wrist and trained the point at its heart. 

It smiled. 

He hesitated. It strained against the binding to lean forwards—he hated that uncanny smile. With a spike of effort through his shoulders, faefire flashed up the metal. He drove the point home. 

It gasped. Worse -- it started to laugh. Its appendages began to smolder, the silver-black cinders gleaming as they worked quickly up its limbs like parchment to a candle. Before it was well and truly alight, while it still had the faculty to speak, amusement danced in its eyes. 

“Daedalus sends his regards.”

Cold shot through him. Eyes wide, limbs frozen, unable to move. Icarus stared slack jawed at the burning creature’s corpse. When the blue wispy light of its Eidolon appeared, his body would not obey. 

Maren stepped in and snared it in a vial before it vanished. She tucked the glass back into the slot on her belt and watched the ash disintegrate. After a long time in the trailing silence, she looked back at him. Sword pointed uselessly to the ground, face blank, Icarus could do nothing but stare. Her brows knit, mouth curved in a worried frown—a shift in her expression so rare he could count on two hands. She moved to stand in front of him, her hand fell heavy on his shoulder. All he could manage were two words barely above a whisper.

“My father.”

Hey Rebels! Next week I'm interviewing Shirlene Obuobi about her instant USA Today best-selling paranormal romance Die for Me. She is also the author of Between Friends and Lovers and On Rotation. Plus she's a cardiologist and a big deal on social media!

What are you dying to know about her career and her craft?

Submit your questions in the comments by Sunday morning (8/23) and I might ask her during the next episode of Rebel Ever After.

You can purchase Die For Me in the Rebel Ever After affiliate bookstore here. I was gobsmacked by how good it is. Trust me on this one. (Content warning for gun violence, paranormal antics, miscarriage, emotional abuse.)

Good Morning Friends!

I sent out an email last night to everyone who has signed up for the Shadowborne tier direct from my Shadowsmutjen@gmail email account. It contained a little questionnaire about dates and times for our zoom book club meeting. Please check your spam folder incase your email thinks I am spam. There won't be enough time to read a book and get together before the end of the month, but maybe we can at least do a meet and greet at the end of the month! That way I can work out any zoom kinks before our actual book club meeting for the end of September.

Please try and reply within the week so I can get some dates and times together for us.

Also, has everyone signed up for the discord? Bindery does not make it easy for me to know who in discord is in the Shadowborne tier, but I have separate chats for us. Please also reply with your discord username. Or do you guys hate discord? lol Let me know your thoughts! I like it but don't want to be the only one haha.

Talk soon!

Jen

Sorry, I have not been as active on here as I would love to be. But you may have seen the announcement that I will have a short story collection coming fall of next year, centering on urban legends. I've been doing a lot of writing behind the scenes!

https://www.instagram.com/p/Db1-8rHOQ8g/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

I can't wait to share this collection with all of you!

I've also dropped an author website that you can reach me at anytime! It will be updated with all my story collections and further works. There's also a mailing listing you can sign up for as well!

https://ashleygravesauthor.com/

Now, let's see what I've been reading and plan to read this week.

I just finished Take A Breath: An Anthology of Claustrophobic Horror. It was a great collection that explored many different types of claustrophobia.

I've also flown through The Sea Hides It's Dead by Megan Bontrager which is a horror following a group of academics who get trapped in an underwater cave. They must face their darkest sins to survive.

I've also started The Night Pool by Lauren Lee Smith and can already tell it will be a five star read. It follows three women during the Californian gold rush in the 1800s.

I plan to start the audiobook of The Calamaities by Chuck Wendig as well. This book is CHUNKY and I was unable to get to it in time as an arc. But life happens and there's only so much time in a day!

If you’d like a signed and personalised copy of CHILDREN OF GODS AND FIGHTING MEN sent by Shauna Lawless herself, comment below!

Mini reviews from our contributors' recent reads

The Favorite Girl by Monica Arya

from Jordy
Doomscrolling on Instagram may be terrible for my mental health, but apparently it’s exactly what I need to find indie authors. The algorithm has been showing me books across every genre, and I’ve decided to have fun with this side of Instagram and read the indie books that grab my attention. First up is The Favorite Girl by Monica Arya. Think Get Out, except instead of just one creepy family, you’ve got an entire operation trafficking women to be sold as “perfect” wives, and these women are trained (abused) in order to be quiet, compliant, and palatable to their future husbands. Otherwise they can be returned, and if that happens they usually end up dead. This book was fast, completely bonkers, and had me saying “there is absolutely no way this is happening” every other page. It’s dark and disturbing, with graphic depictions of violence against women and sexual assault, so definitely check the content warnings before diving in (I’ve included them below as well). But if you want a quick, wild thriller that keeps you turning pages and ends on a satisfying note, this one delivers.

Content warnings from the author: Very dark content. Graphic sexual assault and rape, parent abandonment, human trafficking, murder, self-harm, kidnapping, murder, sensory deprivation, violence against women and torture.

Sacrifice Me by Gemma Morr

from Shoshana
Sacrifice Me by Gemma Morr was a fast paced, engaging, paranormal romance. I really enjoyed that it hit all of the traditional romance genre beats without being boring or predictable. This story delivered unique characters, strategic world building, and an enticing plot. This would be a great choice for fans of paranormal romance, such as Bride by Ali Hazelwood or The Vampire Diaries.

The Intrigue by Silvia Moreno-Garcia

from Renee
Silvia Moreno-Garcia is an auto-buy author for me because you never know what she’s going to write next. Her books are always a surprise and always satisfying. The Intrigue is her latest and, as I expected, unlike anything she’s done before. This historical noir novel centers on a con-artist in 1940s rural Mexico as he attempts to weasel his way into a spinster’s inheritance. But her meddling niece sniffs out his game and decides she wants in. Throw in the rural isolation, nosy neighbors, and a little bit of murder, you’ve got a book that captivated me start to finish. If you’re not a fan of unlikeable characters, this isn’t for you, but if you’re looking for a little bit of The Talented Mr. Ripley in Mexico, I strongly recommend it. Not a spoiler, but I want you to know that the dog is okay. 

Content warnings from TheStorygraph: murder, death, sexual content, death of parent, violence, suicide, car accident, sexual harassment, war

Written on Ice by Smardline S. completely caught me off guard.

My 18–22-year-old self would have absolutely devoured this book. But it still fed my 31-year-old self, ngl. 😂

The story takes place at an elite university where nearly everyone comes from money and is determined to take the world by storm, whether through athletics or the arts. It's a campus built for the rich, ambitious, and talented.

Our main character is Luna, an Afro-Latina, plus-size figure skater chasing her Olympic dreams while carrying childhood trauma that seems to follow her everywhere. Then there's Zayden, the campus's dark prince. He's over six feet tall, has locs, is the school's star hockey player, and is practically guaranteed to go pro. His father also happens to be the team's coach.

S/N: can we also talk about their names? Luna and Zayden? I was obsessed.

Anywho, these two are brought together after receiving mysterious text messages connected to secret underground games that once took place on campus, and to the death of a former student. As they try to uncover what's really going on, they're also juggling the pressure to be the best, family expectations, campus drama, and a growing attraction that neither of them can ignore.

The ANGST in this book had me absolutely seated.

And then...

The spice.

THE SPICE.

Y'all... I was not prepared.

Once Luna and Zayden finally get together, they become one of the spiciest couples I've read in a while. I genuinely had to stop and double-check that this wasn't YA because the romance takes a sharp turn into adult territory. I'm like we sure they're 18 years old, cause the spice gave MATURE, Hunny!

Let's just say... if you're looking for a slow burn that eventually delivers, this one absolutely does. SHEEESH!

The entire time I was reading, I kept thinking it felt like Private by Kate Brian mixed with Pretty Little Liars, except with a cast of characters from diverse backgrounds.

And tbh, that might've been my favorite part.

Growing up, I loved books about elite boarding schools, prestigious academies, and wealthy social circles. (Just take one look at my YA recommendation shelf.) But very few of those stories centered characters who looked like me.

Written on Ice gave me all of those nostalgic early-2000s YA vibes while featuring characters from underrepresented communities.

It's the kind of book my younger self would've treasured, and I'm so happy stories like this are finally getting the spotlight they deserve. .

The heat wave has finally broke here in NYC (thank goodness!) so I am looking forward to fall and cozy weather. In the meantime here is a mid month update for all of you!

For All Community Members

Have you already seen my Salt Lake City Blog post? (if not check it out here!) It includes my vlog from my last trip and some of my hands down favorite spots! If you are in the world traveler tier the member exclusive google map with a ton more recommendations is now live on my website.

In the next two weeks I will be posting my 24 hours in Dublin itinerary and Las Vegas Vlog (yes, they have bookstores in Vegas!)

As always, I am swimming in content and need help deciding what city to work on next. If you want to vote in the poll I have with this post please help a girl out!

For My NYC Readers

September events are live on Discord. Two events are already over halfway full so make sure to sign up before I make them public and post about them on socials! Remember- if you are on the The New Yorker tier use your discount code for $5 off all NYC events!

Also, please fill out the google form to help me plan for October (where has the year gone??)

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSf4dR0bBxW9rn5CxdX8kKvwfcdxOnzxzf4Pf5700uPlzbRNGw/viewform?usp=header

As always, thank you for supporting me in this community. I am still figure out my rhythm for when I will post updates so thank you for being here since the beginning!

Happy Book Hunting!

1) a planet that narrowly escaped human colonization asks for help from mushroom people
2) a woman flees the cosmic body of a whale and stumbles into a new universe
3) an Afrofuturist love story set inside a giant space-creature
4) one bite of this mushroom and you can understand the full scope of the universe and speak with forgotten eldritch gods
5) every woman in a family tree becomes the physical embodiment of a myth
6) agents are fighting a war against self-camouflaging entities that erase themselves from human memory

I'm going to be reading one of these 6 weird books, and the Moonwalker community is deciding! Today is your LAST CHANCE to join as a Moonwalker, see which books these are, and vote on your favorite. You'll also be the first to see my unfiltered thoughts as I read!

Moonwalkers get exclusive content, special votes like this one, a private chat within the Discord, early access to my YouTube videos, and priority nominations for book club pick! Plus if the community grows large enough, we'll have the opportunity to create our own publishing imprint. You'd be involved in major decisions and see behind-the-scenes as we select and publish books.

So don't forget to place your votes!

So. I took a small break from longer-form write ups to focus on fiction writing and getting two manuscripts going at once. I've got beta readers going for my passion project Into the Dark and will be working in their feedback later this month. I'm also locked into the first book in a duology I'm hoping to really lean on called Labyrinth, the first entry in The Book of Icarus.

I actually have the first 10 chapters scheduled through September for Icarus for anyone subscribed as an Inner Circle member if anyone's interested in reading that chaos! I'm really loving it so far, though. It's a fever dream and very wild.

I promised reviews, right? I have quite a few so instead of a long-form version I'll give some rapid fire thoughts that were NOT included in my video reviews on Instagram, TikTok, and Youtube.

Behooved by M. Stevenson

This premise was insane, but she pulled it off. Horse puns and all. I really enjoyed this, it was a fun little break from all of the doom and gloom I normally read and was just whimsical and fun. I love that it wasn't trying to be anything other than what it is. It's a silly romantasy about a man who turns into a horse during the day, it's not trying to change your life.

She wrote this like a fairytale and captured that essence really well in my opinion. Though the romantic arc felt very rushed for a 27 year old protagonist, I suspended my disbelief when I remembered he turns into a horse at night. It's fine. It had tiny spice in it which was inoffensive and fun to me, but I would've liked a slower evolution of them falling in love. I am, however, a romantic miser and I do tot personally fall in love easily which affects how I view romantic arcs in books. Protect your hearts more, y'all.

Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah

I put this alongside Blood Over Bright Haven as a book everyone needs to read. The prison system is brutal and Nana depicted the horror in a digestible way without losing the reality of how awful it really is. We have such a Hammurabian take on justice in America that we don't talk about how people are conditioned not to want justice, but to want revenge.

Do we truly believe dehumanizing people and breaking them apart is the best way to reform them? The answer is, frankly, no. We do not. We don't want to reform them. We are trained by our political propaganda systems and the investment of the private prison industry to be bloodthirsty spectators hungry for the suffering of those we feel moral superiority to. Nana shoves that right in our faces and makes you as yourself when someone deserves to be stripped of their humanity.

Of all the losses in this book, I felt Randy Mac's the hardest, though. It woke me up and even typing about it makes me teary eyed again.

Sons of Darkness by Gourav Mohanty

Mohanty took on something very ambitious for a debut - retelling a fundamental story in Hinduism and Indian culture that most westerners don't have any knowledge of. The main criticism I saw was "infodump" which I'm beginning to suspect is a substitute for "I didn't pay attention when I read". We are losing sight of what an infodump actually is, which I don't think Mohanty is guilty of at all. He parsed out this story that's unfamiliar to most Americans and drip-fed it well in a way that wasn't overwhelming in my mind.

My criticism is that it was a bit messy with genre and POVs. I expected more fantasy than I got, it was more of a war novel than a fantasy novel. It also added elements of science fiction, but didn't explore them in this one so they felt out of place. I won't speak for the second book, I'll let him tell me his story and I recognize this first book was about grounding the audience unfamiliar with the Mahabharata in its core.

There were some perspectives that felt open-ended and never received closure that I walked away finding unnecessary, but ultimately the story was a ride and very fun. I love Karna and his obsession with righteousness. I love a righteous man. I do, however, strongly dislike Krishna. Which... I think is the point.

The Hike by Drew Magary

Magary is an underrated writer. Period. He got me out of a slump with Postmortal and I've been an evangelist for him ever since. He is sharp, biting, thoughtful, and much deeper than he gets credit for. The Hike is a crazy Odyssey-style tale of a man lost in the woods who will die if he strays from the path, but it's also bigger than that. It's about not getting so complacent you lose sight of your own good fortune. It's about a man who allows routine to smother his identity and forgets to indulge in who he is as a person. It's about him and his wife discovering each other's innermost needs, how to see each other, and finally understanding what's at their cores.

I think The Hike looks ridiculous on the surface - because it is - but when you dig into what it does and what it achieves, you realize this is a story full of layers and thoughtful metaphors that can be dissected for hours. Magary makes it that deep because people are that deep.

The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison

Maia is my half goblin son and I will die for him. Seriously, though, this is a cozy political court intrigue book that packs so much heart into such a small space. It starts and immediately dives into the plot, giving you a main character whose greatest strength is hope and a belief in goodness. I loved watching him turn his trauma into his greatest tool. He knew people and could read moods, he wasn't afraid to lean on his new authority, but he always did so when it was right. He gave people a chance to save themselves and believed in redemption for everyone.

I wish I'd had more on his romantic arcs with his potential Empress, though. I liked watching their interactions and it would've been nice to see more of their personal connection, but also Maia was just a baby. I appreciated that when it called for it, Addison didn't let up and allowed the difficult scenes to stay difficult. When an execution was required, she didn't deus ex machina for the sake of a reader's sensibilities and used violence when it was appropriate.

The only other critique I have is I hoped we would get more of Maia and his grandfather interacting! I wish we could see him lean into his goblin heritage and learn more about his mother's people. Overall, though, I loved how he refused to be ashamed of his half goblin heritage and honored the mother who loved him over the father he didn't even know.

The Justice of Kings by Richard Swan

I was an insurance injury and claims adjuster for six years and finally feel represented in fantasy. Seriously, though, I had no idea Swan was a barrister but it absolutely makes sense in this book. What a trip. I finished it in two days. Necromancy, maritime insurance, political conspiracy... this book has something for everyone. I really don't have much in the way of criticism, which is rare for me! Helena was well written, Konrad is very crushable, and the magic is so eerie and done well. He creeped me out with necromancy in a book and I'm a glutton for horror!

I've been advised Book 2 is where it really takes off and I'm not sure how much more it could "take off", but I do know the Great Silence sequel series has oracular mermaids. So.

Wild Magic by Jude Fisher

I need more people to read classic fantasy. Fisher is a mesmerizing writer. I don't know how she does it, but her writing is enchanting. She is a bit long-winded and we are slow moving in a lot of ways, but I also don't mind it or really notice while I'm reading because she draws me in so effectively. I love her diverse cast of characters, the way she frustrates me with the men in her world, and how she shows the restrictions women face while men delude themselves about how progressive they really are.

In this second installment, I actually enjoyed her focus on women's sexuality, our social constraints because of men, the deprioritization of women over the ambitions of men, and how women are the beating heart of societies. The Istrians make me furious because they have their misguided belief they're "saving" women when they're really cruel captors and the Eyrans believe they're better, but they just imprison them differently.

Katla continues to be spritely and delightful, I love her and her weird earth magic. I also LOVED her with Tam Fox, don't come for my neck. I am a Tam Fox girl and you can't stop me. Saro is so sweet and charming, I know he loves her, but Tam understands her. He's the representation of true male feminism. He loves her as she is and never expects anything from her, he doesn't want to take her wildness. I'm devastated by the boat scene, but Fisher wouldn't just let Tam vanish. She's got a plan for him and if I've learned anything it's if there's no body, they're not dead.

A Dragon of Black Glass by James Rollins

If you scroll back, you'll see I read Cradle of Ice and I didn't love it. It's true. It was very exposition heavy and I felt like he didn't trust me as a reader. The characters' voices felt melded together and flat, like we lost their individual personalities to overexplain things I thought were apparent.

Whatever happened in Book 2 was totally reversed in Book 3. I loved it. This one was fast-paced, brutal, it trusted me, and we were right back on track with our beloved characters. I thought James crushed it, this is my favorite one in the series so far. It moves the world forward and gives us our real Big Bad in a way that makes me wonder how the heck are we getting out of this.

I love the continued question of "Is Nyx actually the hero?" and Kanthe wrestling with his identity and his potential for power. Micean is the best worst character in the book, I loathe him. Shiya and Rafe continue to be complex and never all-knowing, but present and important. His mechanics for the world are exploratory and consistent, his commitment to unique fauna is one of my favorite things, and I felt like the heart that we lost in Book 2 has been revived and beats anew.

In conclusion...

I've made my way through a lot of books this August, but my emphasis has been on writing and so I've gotten a little lost in that for a bit. I'm back, though, and committed to at least a weekly update on books and thoughts because reading is fun and important.

If you're interested to see anything more about the writing I'm doing, all chapters get posted multiple times a week as I refine them for Inner Circle members who are also invited to suggest changes and provide input I will gladly take!

This Week on the Shelf: New Releases, BookTok Drama & Why We Love What We Read

Hello, book friends!

This week we have demons, magical perfume, murder suspects, dystopian angels, questionable BookTok business decisions, and the newly crowned World’s Ugliest Dog.

In other words: a completely normal week around here. Let’s get into it.

📚 NEW THIS WEEK

Here are the August 18 releases currently screaming the loudest from my TBR.

🔎 MYSTERY + THRILLER

Murder on Charity Lane by Jo Nichols

Apparently the residents of Marigold Cottages have not learned that inviting a murder suspect to move into your cozy little community is perhaps not the best way to achieve a peaceful existence.

Mrs. B’s friend Elsa is suspected of killing her wealthy employer, so naturally Mrs. B invites her to move in and rallies everyone to prove her innocence. Then strange things start happening around the cottages…and another body turns up.

Cozy mystery + nosy neighbors + a community determined to solve a murder? Say less.

Don’t Look Close by Jaima Fixsen

Peter Simmons is recovering from polio when he learns his sister’s ex-husband has been murdered, and she’s become the prime suspect.

So Peter checks himself out of rehab, heads to the isolated mining community where she lives, and starts investigating with the help of the thing he does exceptionally well: observing people through the lens of his camera.

But the deeper he looks, the more it seems someone in town is making sure people who step out of line don’t get another chance.

A 1950s setting, small-town secrets, sibling loyalty AND a possible serial killer? This sounds extremely up my alley.

🐉 SCI-FI + FANTASY

The Vanishing by Kelsey Crane

Six teenagers from around the world receive mysterious VR headsets and enter RIZE, an incredibly realistic survival simulation where Earth still looks like the world it used to be. Then something goes wrong.

Suddenly, they have to decide whether to remain heirs to the broken world they were born into…or take the civilization they created virtually and try to build it for real.

You know dystopian sci-fi is my kryptonite, so obviously this caught my attention.

The Calamities by Chuck Wendig

Rich people secretly being demons? I’m listening.

Mourning Mayne is heir to one of the world’s most powerful families, except the Maynes aren’t just your standard morally questionable dynasty. They’re fiends: half-human, half-demon beings whose magic comes from buying human souls.

When Mourning’s terrifying father calls him home, he has to decide whether to inherit the family legacy or destroy the cycle entirely. Occult magic + horrible wealthy families + literal deals for human souls. This sounds delightfully unhinged.

Immortal Rose by Alexandra Bracken

This might have one of my favorite fantasy concepts I’ve seen recently: MAGICAL. PERFUME.

Viola Lockwood is the last living member of an ancient family capable of infusing fragrance with magic that can manipulate the mind, body, and emotions.

After a murder leaves the kingdom vulnerable to a coup, she’s forced to work with royal spymaster Hugh Thornton to create the legendary Immortal Rose perfume, and yes, there is also a slow-burn romance happening while people keep trying to kill her.

Political intrigue + fairy magic + magical perfume + romance? Alexandra Bracken, you have my attention.

The Shadows That Listen by Louisa Carmody

Five years ago, daemons crawled out of hell. Then angels descended from the sky. Humanity thought the angels had come to save them. They were wrong.

Now Amara works for the Angel Intelligence Agency in a world caught between two immortal forces. This is being pitched as a dystopian romantasy with angels vs. demons, slow-burn romance, and major 2010s fantasy energy.

And as someone who survived the YA dystopian/paranormal era? That last part is doing a LOT of work on me.

Siren Says by Jennifer Herrera

Dangerous inherited plant magic. Celtic spirits. Family secrets. Women trying to break a century-old cycle of sacrifice.

Raven Wynn has spent her life knowing the ancient magic in her blood causes destruction, but she may be the only person capable of stopping the sacrifices her family has been making for generations.

This sounds lush, strange, witchy and a little sinister, which is basically exactly what I want as we start creeping toward fall reading season.

💬 THE BOOKISH GROUP CHAT

Okay. We have TEA this week.

Would you ever pay someone to review your book?

If you exist anywhere near BookTok or Bookstagram, you have probably seen the PB Squamer situation by now.

PB Squamer posted a video proposing a paid-review arrangement aimed at smaller authors: essentially a deposit to read the book, followed by an additional fee if he liked it and created a review video, bringing the potential total to around $1,000.

And BookTok collectively went …excuse me?

Here’s where I think an important distinction keeps getting lost in conversations about creators getting paid.

I have absolutely no problem with book creators making money.

• Pay creators to produce promotional content.

• Pay for sponsored posts.

• Pay for UGC.

• Pay for their time, audience, creativity and ability to sell a book.

But paying specifically for a favorable review is different.

The second payment depends on whether someone likes the book, we’ve created a financial incentive around the opinion itself.

And that is where I personally draw a very firm line.

A sponsored video can still be valuable. An author can pay a creator $1,000—or $5,000, for that matter—to make promotional content if both parties think that audience is worth it.

But call it what it is: advertising.

A review should belong entirely to the reader. I’m very curious where everyone else lands on this because I suspect there are some STRONG opinions:

Is paying book creators for reviews ever okay? Or should reviews always remain completely separate from paid partnerships?

🧠 ALSO IN THE GROUP CHAT: Why do we love the genres we love?

Then I came across this Reader’s Digest piece about the psychology behind why we gravitate toward certain book genres, and immediately wanted to send it to everyone.

Because WHY can one reader spend 700 pages learning the political structure of a fictional kingdom and have the time of their life, while another person would rather throw that book directly into the sea?

Why do some of us want murder mysteries? Why do other readers want cozy fantasy where the greatest threat is whether the magical bakery runs out of cinnamon rolls?

And why do I apparently require fictional governments to be collapsing on a semi-regular basis?

There’s something fascinating about the idea that our genre preferences aren’t completely random...that the stories we seek out can connect to the emotions and experiences we want from reading.

So here’s this week’s question: What genre feels the most like YOU and what do you think you’re actually looking for when you read it?

Read the Reader’s Digest article

🎥 WANT TO UNDERSTAND FANTASY BETTER?

One of my favorite things about fantasy is also the thing that makes it completely overwhelming: Fantasy is HUGE.

Saying you like “fantasy” can mean you want magical cities hiding inside our world…or muskets and magic…or angels and demons…or sprawling heroic adventures.

So over on YouTube, I broke down four fantasy subgenres: Urban Fantasy, Paranormal Fantasy, Flintlock Fantasy and Heroic Fantasy.

We talk about what actually defines each one, how to tell them apart, the vibes you can expect, and (most importantly) where I think you should start reading.

If you've ever looked at the fantasy section and thought, Okay, but what kind of fantasy do I actually like? this is for you.

Watch “Fantasy Genres Explained” on my YouTube channel.

🐾 LINK’S CORNER

Link has reviewed this week’s important literary and cultural news and would like everyone to know that we have a new World’s Ugliest Dog.

Her name is Jinny Lu. She is a six-year-old rescue pug, and I would die for her.

Jinny Lu took home the crown at the 2026 World’s Ugliest Dog Contest after competing multiple times before finally winning this year. The competition might have an unfortunate name, but it actually celebrates the wonderfully weird appearances of rescue dogs and promotes adoption.

Which means Link would like to clarify that this is actually a World’s Most Interesting-Looking Very Good Dog Contest. She also believes she could win. I do not have the heart to explain why that would technically be an insult.

Meet the 2026 World’s Ugliest Dog winner

That’s it for this week!

Now I need to know: Which new release are you adding to your TBR, where do you land on paying for book reviews, AND what genre has an absolute chokehold on you?

Reply and tell me. This newsletter is basically one giant bookish group chat anyway.

Until next week,

Brittany + Link 🐾

Here's your weekly roundup of romances hitting shelves this week that have a Rebel Ever After vibe. Reminder that I haven't read any of these titles yet, so this isn't an official endorsement unless noted. If there are other books out today that you think folks will enjoy, feel free to recommend them in the comments.

[This isn't an exhaustive list of every romance novel published this week. If you are an author with a progressive romance coming out soon, please email brosandprose@gmail.com to get it on my radar!]

Ship Happens by Mason Deaver (Avon) — Queer second chance romance with trans rep on an Alaskan cruise! Mason is a great opinion haver and poster, and you should support this book.

Mutual Discord by Liana De la Rosa (Berkley) — The contemporary romance debut of one of my favorite historical romance authors. I interviewed Liana on the podcast back in Feb 2025, she's a gem.

The Best I Never Had by Amy Buchanan (St. Martin's Griffin) — What happens when you find out the guy you faked a relationship and a breakup with is now the older brother of your sister's fiancé? Fake-get-back-together, I guess!

I Punched an Alien and Now We're in Couples Therapy by Kimberley Lemming (Berkley) — Lemming's books are bonkers (complimentary).

Old Flames by Nadine Gonzalez (MIRA) — Haunted Key West hotel and writers falling in love by the author of Only Lovers In The Building.

The Way We Used To Be by Amarie Wheeler (indie) — From the author's instagram: "A fashion designer, struggling to renovate her new plus-sized boutique, reluctantly enlists the help of the ex childhood best friend who ghosted her 8 years ago."

The Divine Gardener's Handbook Or What To Do If Your Girlfriend Accidentally Turns Off the Sun by Eli Snow (Saturday Books) — Gosh, what a title. Sapphic romantasy!

The Blue Moon Café & 24-Hour Occult Emporium by Lexie Sharabianlou (Dell) — The second sapphic romantasy of the week, this one by a debut Iranian-American author.

I have some events coming up virtually and in the NY area!

8/26: Rebel Ever After Bindery virtual launch party with special guests Adib Khorram, Laura Piper Lee, and Erin Baldwin. Join for free on Bindery to attend.

9/3: Launching Love Me Like a Rock Song with Shelly Jay Shore at the Ripped Bodice BK. Tickets here.

9/30: Launching Happily Ever Afterlife with Emma R. Alban at the Ripped Bodice BK. Tickets here.

Happy Tuesday, mis internet amigxs!

We're entering the month before Latinx Heritage Month which means a typhoon of books are coming your way via recommendations AND release. I'm so excited for the content I am planning and working on for you.

SUPPORT THE WORK I DO BEYOND LATINX HERITAGE MONTH

As you know, Latinx Heritage Month is just another 30 days in my continuous Latine book coverage 365 days of the year. This is in light of Latinx books only being represented in about 6% of traditionally published books and more than likely, a significant portion less of marketing budgets that help these books get more visibility. This fact makes Bien Leidos like an unpaid marketing arm of Latine books.

Although Latinx books are my passion, as a full-time creator, I must face the reality that I also have to pay my bills on an on-going basis. One of the ways I do so is through Bindery. Through your monthly membership, you not only tell me that you appreciate my work, but you tell Bindery that you'd like to see me publish my first Latine book under the Bien Leidos imprint!

There are so many things I'd like to do...with your support, I'd love to get there.

And with that ask, I'll leave you to this week's INCREDIBLE Latine release list! Let me know in the comments which one you're most looking forward to...

Romance

Mutual Discord by Liana De La Rosa (Audiobook)

Old Flames by Nadine Gonzalez (Audiobook)

Mystery

Sleeping Sisters by Jennifer Givhan (Audiobook)

The Secret Dinner by Raphael Montes (Audiobook)

Pop! by Angel Luis Colon Adult (Audiobook)

Translated fiction

The Loneliest Tree In The World by Mariana Salomao Carrara

Nonfiction

The Nerd Reich: Silicon Valley Fascism and the War On Democracy by Gil Duran (Audiobook) CHECK OUT YESTERDAY'S REVIEW HERE

What Will They Say: A Liberating Guide for Latinas by Denise Soler Cox (Audiobook)

Chancla: Healing Our Families, Ourselves, and Our Culture Through Nonviolent Parenting by Leslie Priscilla (Audiobook)

Picture Book

Please Pass the Tamales by Silvia Lopez (Audiobook)

Middle Grade

The Hungry Forest by Kaela Rivera (Audiobook)

xo,

Carmen

tw: suicide, depression, trauma, loss

Below is the Instagram post I shared last night. I was working on making it a blog post too so I figured I'd share it. It's been a rough week but I'm hanging in there. The death of Hayden Panettiere has hit me hard. I'm mourning by continuing to push myself to create and by having a movie marathon on and off this whole week of her work.

As of right now the only thing confirmed is cardiac arrest and a "possible overdose." As someone who struggles with depression and suicidal thoughts when something like this happens it can be a trigger. The Clancy case is another thing I am trying to keep up with but only in small doses. Living with depression and disabilities can be crushing some days. Today is one of them. Hope you all find some joy in something or someone today. <3

***

I had such an incredible day celebrating with my love. It made me realize the more time I spend being whimsical and nostalgic the happier I am.

I slipped into a few days of severe feelings of agoraphobia, anxiety, and depression but this trip really helped me feel hopeful instead of helpless. I took an inventory of how I spend my time, and this won't happen overnight, but I'll definitely be making some changes. I've already started by muting a lot of people so they're not in my feed.

More nostalgic and low energy posts and less posting overall.

Easy videos with voiceovers or captions or music.
Treating Instagram like MySpace (until it comes back!)

Less time online. More time reading and writing.
Less computer time. More movie marathons.
Turning my smartphone into a flip phone (deleting almost all apps).

That means not returning emails the same or even next day.

It means the BER months through the end of Yule EVERY YEAR moving forward I'll be on a semi sabbatical to enjoy the time of year I live for.

I appreciate all of you so much. I'll still be sharing book announcements and other necessary marketing. I'm just being intentional about it.

Less trying to figure out algorithms and more time just saying what's on my mind without trying to insert a keyword or hashtag.

I feel a lot like Peter in Office Space and damn it feels good to be a gangsta!

Hey wow congrats you got this far. 🤓 I'm Stephanie Rose. Horror author. House goblin, cat lady, Halloween queen and horror maven. I love watching movies especially horror. I'm currently living mostly like it's late 90s early 00s. 🖤🔪👻

Life is too short especially to someone that battles disabilities. 🖤🖤🖤