This Week, I Read… (2021 #39)

#115 – Race of Thieves, by S.M. Reine

  • Mount TBR: 95/100
  • Rating: 1/5 stars

DNF @ 54%. I’m bored, and I’m tired of not knowing enough about the setting to understand the stakes of this high-energy heist plot.

The author’s note at the beginning mentions that there are over 50 books in “the Descentverse” and yeah, this is not a good place to jump in, even if the note claims it is. Barely anything is explained about how shifters work and even less about the world. When I gave up, the lead and his rival/ex-girlfriend have taken a literal, physical elevator down to Hell and are trying to steal something from demons. Also there are angels, also there are more types of shifter than you can shake a stick at, and there’s allusions to some sort of world-altering event, but no details.

I’m lost, and I’m tired of being lost. I can fill in some blanks with the general knowledge I’ve acquired about how paranormal romance and urban fantasy tend to work–but by doing so, I’m making the Descentverse more generic, in my own brain, than I’m sure the author intends. It seems like a vibrant and well-realized world, if you don’t get dropped into it with no grounding.

Also, “Shatter Cage” is a really dumb name, and its dumbness is not redeemed by having another character make fun of it in-universe. And if this is a romance–which I was under the impression it was based on the charity bundle I acquired it from–then it’s not great that the love interest (the ex) doesn’t even show up until more than a quarter of the way through the story. I kept waiting, and waiting…

#116 – Traitor’s Moon, by Lynn Flewelling

  • Rating: 3/5 stars

When I finished and reviewed the second book in the series, I said that I wondered where this one would go, story-wise, since the main plot of the first book was clearly wrapped up in the second. Now, in hindsight, it seems almost obvious: time to deal with Seregil’s exile. And it does.

It just takes a long time and a lot of political and magical nonsense to get there.

I’ll be honest, I was mostly reading this for Alec. Not that I don’t like Seregil in general, but he’s not at his best under these circumstances, and the complicated (overcomplicated?) plot around negotiations for war aid from his homeland involved so many new characters, so much wrangling, and so much semi-defined magic that I got more than a little lost on occasion. The reveal of the murderer’s identity–because yes, there’s a murder tangled in all this–hinges directly on a single magical charm bracelet, who had it when, and how that can be magically proven. I did not follow all of it, and inconsistency in details is starting to show in this series anyway, because I feel like a few names from previous books were changed (or spelled wrong) when referenced, and I noticed a few other small things I couldn’t be sure if I was remembering wrong, even though I read both previous books in the last few months…

As far as the romance goes, I’m glad there was enough of a time skip between books to see Seregil and Alec jump past their awkwardness–this is a fantasy series with romance in it, not a full-blown romance the point is to jump all the hurdles with them, as readers. I’d rather them be a bit more settled in their relationship if we’re going to wade through this much complicated plot. But I was briefly and repeatedly uncomfortable whenever the text referred to either one of them (from the other’s perspective) as “friend.” Like we’ve done all this work to make a world where same-sex couples are as everyday and unremarkable as opposite-gender couples, even to the point of having the four-lamp-color system of brothels to mark which sex workers are for whom; but then Alec and Seregil are constantly referring to each other as friends. And if that’s supposed to mean their friendship is the solid core of their romantic relationship, I get it–it follows with some things Seregil said in book two, about how they’d be friends even if Alec had other lovers in the future. (Which I believe, though it would have to be far, far in the future for Alec to loosen up enough for that to happen at all. A point of characterization in his favor.) But at the same time, it’s frustrating how little the narrative acknowledges that they’re lovers. Yes, there are a few elliptical, fade-to-black sex scenes, and I’m not arguing that the solution is more sex, or more explicit sex. But the ‘faie term they were using before “tali” or “talimenios” got weakened in this book–I had taken it to mean “lovers” in the pair-bonded sense, but Seregil’s family use it for him, so obviously that’s not its only meaning anymore. And when they’re not “tali,” they’re merely “friends.” And that was jarring whenever I stumbled into it, and disappointing overall.

Anyway. Between a kindly fellow reader pointing out after my last review that they wished they had stopped after the first two books, and me peeking ahead to read the blurb about the fourth book, which seems kind of squicky to me–I’m done. I enjoyed this, but I don’t feel a great need to read the rest.

#117 – Him, by Sarina Bowen and Elle Kennedy

  • Rating: 4/5 stars

Finally got around to reading this after letting it sit on my TBR for four years–thank you, Hoopla.

I already know I’m thumbs-up for Sarina Bowen, I don’t love every book of hers to pieces but they’re always worth my time. Elle Kennedy is a total unknown factor to me. But this didn’t really read like two authors (as sometimes books unfortunately will) so I have to assume I like Kennedy as well, because I liked this. Totally willing to check out her other work.

But about this book. I’m here for every kind of queer romance, but I’ve been burned by plenty of M/M specifically in the past that is either “chicks with dicks,” as we say when the characters are designated as male but don’t feel authentic; or when the romance is fetishizing queerness, and the characters don’t have any real personalities or conflicts, because the female author/readers just want to write/read about two guys screwing.

This is neither. I know that’s a low bar to clear, but when you’re jumping in with a new series or author, it does need to be cleared.

So I’m here for confused friends-to-lovers, I’m here for the sort of second-chance-ness of this romance. Even though I’m not particularly a sports fan (of any sport,) somehow I keep reading hockey romances, and it delivers there too–enough hockey to make sure it’s important to plot and characters, not so much I’m groaning at excessive play-by-plays. I actually love that our two budding young hockey stars have vastly different views about the reality of playing in the pros, thanks to their different skill sets and personalities; that’s icing on an already delicious cake.

What kept this from being a five-star read? Honestly, the plot hinged on miscommunication or a lack of willingness to communicate, and by the end it was pretty one-sided (Wes.) Also, Wes’ biphobia.

I see there’s another book and a bonus novella in this series for Wes to possibly grow past the fear that Jamie’s bisexuality means he’s always halfway out the door to bang some chick, but that insecurity of Wes’, while realistic to a point, becomes such a tired pattern. I’m willing to forgive it a little more than usual because from Jamie’s POV, we get a refreshingly uncomplicated journey from “I like women” through “do I only like this one guy, or possibly all guys?” to “yep, I also like dick in general, therefore I am bisexual.” I will forgive a lot to get good bi rep, because it’s so hard to find, and Jamie is excellent. He questions but doesn’t agonize, he takes steps to figure himself out when he realizes he needs to, and there’s no missing b-word.

I’ll keep reading–I want to see where this goes. And I think I’ll dig up some solo Kennedy books to put on my TBR as well.

#118 – Us, by Sarina Bowen and Elle Kennedy

  • Rating: 4/5 stars

I’m happy that there’s more story here–I love series romances following the same couple through multiple books–but unsurprisingly, it mostly had the same strengths and flaws as the first book.

What’s really good is the depiction of personal stress and relationship tension between Wes and Jamie because of the secret of their relationship. But to balance that, I’m never going to be a fan of forced outing as a plot point.

I’m also pleased with the seriousness of how Jaime’s illness was handled, not only when it was happening, but also the aftermath. I have personal experience with struggling to “be myself again” after a long illness, so I got it. (But again, his illness is what leads to the news of their relationship getting out, so there’s a downside to this plot.)

New thing that’s good: Blake. At first I didn’t know what to make of someone so Big and Dumb and Loud, but he turned out to be real charming, in his own way, by the end. (Though I don’t blame anyone who can’t warm up to him, YMMV.)

Old thing that’s bad: Wes is still biphobic. It’s toned down and less important to the story most of the time, but it’s still there, even when he’s trying to talk himself out of it.

Overall, still glad I read it, looking forward to the bonus novella.

#119 – Epic, by Sarina Bowen and Elle Kennedy

  • Rating: 4/5 stars

It’s cute, it’s quick, it’s fun. I don’t have a lot of in-depth things to say about it–I couldn’t give it five stars, because I don’t think it’s really better than the two novels, but it’s certainly not worse.

The only issue for me is that since I haven’t been a Bowen/Kennedy reader since the beginning and I wasn’t reading everything as it was released, this jumps past Jamie and Wes getting married, which apparently happens in the first book in the spin-off series, which I know about now and have queued up on Hoopla to read next. Not that it’s a hardship to read Blake’s book, because I love that goofball. But since I was just plowing through this series in order, it did come as a bit of a surprise.

#120 – Good Boy, by Sarina Bowen and Elle Kennedy

  • Rating: 3/5 stars

Good, but not as great as the series it spun off from. I doubled back for this after reading the bonus novella about Jamie and Wes and finding out they were married, only I hadn’t read the book where it happened.

I can’t point to much, really, to complain about directly. The plot fits together neatly, everybody goes on their journey properly and gets a happy ending. I loved Blake as a side character, and his humor did wear the tiniest bit thin when he became the lead, but he’s still an awesome dude with a serious heart of gold, so it’s not like I don’t like him. But now I know I wouldn’t want to date him myself.

Jess got her personal arc of “I’m the family screw up” to “I know what I want to do with my life and I’m pursuing it” and that’s great! But somehow it also wasn’t all that satisfying.

And while I’m not arguing that relationships like this can’t happen or won’t work out, I’m not a huge fan of “let’s just keep having sex until eventually emotional bonds form” as a plot trajectory. There was only so often I could listen to Jess’ internal monologue about how she really, really meant to keep her clothes on, this time. And then, of course, she didn’t.

Also, given that injury and illness have been plot points in this story world before, I kept waiting for Blake’s mysterious neck pain to pay off, but it didn’t–it was just a sore neck, apparently, with no real plot important and only a tenuous symbolic meaning (since it disappeared as soon as he and Jessie got together for real.)

It’s fine. It’s readable. But it’s also missing something I can’t quite identify, compared to the series that brought me here.

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