Nah. Not a stellar reading month for me. Even though I had off for a week of vacation, I just didn't get a lot of reading done. And it didn't help that some of the books I read were kind of meh and probably should have been DNFd but DNFing is hard so I plowed through them when I didn't really feel motivated to do it.
The good news is that for mostly every meh read I completed, there was a really amazing read to make up for it. So my reading wins/loses were kind of up and down all month, like the weather... so....
Let's see which ones were passes and which ones were badasses!
The Wolf Wants Answers by Joshua Mohr
This book showed up just in time for its release this week!
Book 2 of Joshua Mohr's Viking Punk trilogy is just as badass and ball smashing as the first and now I'm dying for the final installation.
In The Wolf Wants Answers, we're following Saint as he heads out on the road with Trick and their band when they are intercepted by a group of masked thugs demanding a debt be paid. And zip tied between them is a woman who shares a dark and complicated past with Saint.
We lean in with our chin in our hands, elbows on table, as Saint takes us back to his release from prison, his search for his guitar and the woman who raised him, and how he first stumbles across Cassidy, an eyebrowless relator who is tired of being mistreated by Tonys.
Strap in for a punk rock adventure that takes us through a haunted waterpark, abandoned real estate properties, and some pretty gnarly torture scenes involving a chicken shawarma.
It's all hitter-quitters and nine balls in socks and failing to be a touch careful. And you should get on this because you can never have enough Mohr in your life.
When The Moon Hits Your Eye by John Scalzi
Cool concept, strange execution.
This book was cute but kind of bland. It was like snacking on the left overs of a charcuterie board... it tasted ok but wasn't really as satisfying as you had hoped.
The moon turns to cheese and the world is completely baffled. And we are riding the wave of confusion through a 300 paged collection of mostly isolated, individual reactions and experiences as everyone begins to deal with the reality of it.
There's a story for each day of the lunar cycle. And within those stories, we are treated to the perspectives of the President, NASA and some of its astronauts, a jerky billionaire, some old retired dudes in a diner, an author whose flopped book release is now front and center and selling like hotcakes, a priest and his congregants, two feuding brothers who own cheese shops on the same street, and more. Soooo many more.
I didn't hate it but I didn't love it either. A tongue-in-cheek sci-fi story of a catastrophic astrological event that left me wanting.
Something tells me this was probably not the best book for a first time Scalzi reader to pick up. Maybe it can only go up from here?
All That Dies in April by Mariana Travacio
Hot damn... this book hits!
A haunting and deeply moving novel about a woman who, after years of feeling trapped in a drought-stricken village, embarks on a journey in search of a better life. Behind her, unwilling to abandon the land steeped in the memories of their ancestors, her husband follows—accompanied only by a donkey and the unearthed bones of his parents.
In brief, alternating chapters, Lina and Relicario lead us through their separate, solitary odysseys—across treacherous mountains, through fleeting acts of kindness and sudden bursts of violence. Each carries the weight of longing, seeking the one thing that calls to them most.
A breathtaking tale of love, longing, and the restless pull of wanderlust—where taking a leap of faith means venturing into the unknown, carried only by the quiet pulse of possibility.
All the stars. Hypnotic. Heartwrenching. Hallowed. Just... holy wow.
Bind Me Tighter Still by Lara Ehrlich
I had high hopes for this one, but unfortunately, it didn’t quite live up to them. Sirens? A boardwalk attraction? The premise had so much potential. I wasn't expecting extreme body horror or super gory violence—Red Hen Press doesn’t lean that way—but I was hoping for something more than what this book ultimately delivered.
Ceto was a siren, luring fishermen to their doom alongside her sisters, always ravenous, never satisfied—until she decides she’s done. She severs her tail, steps onto land, and marries the first man she meets. After bearing his child, she abandons that life too, eventually finding herself back by the ocean, breathing new life into a fading roadside attraction on the boardwalk.
The novel explores themes of feminism, trauma, bodily autonomy, and the lasting effects of harsh mothering. It has all the right ingredients for a compelling mermaid story, but the execution falters. The descriptions of Sirenland—the space where the sirens performed and lived—were difficult to visualize, and the flashbacks to Ceto’s past were scattered throughout the story in a way that disrupted the flow. Despite its intriguing premise, the story never fully came together for me.
I'm loving the mermaid fiction wave we're riding right now, but I wouldn’t be in a hurry to add this one to your collection. But who knows, maybe it will resonate with you!
Playing Wolf by Zuzana Rihova
Oooh, this was one of my most anticipated books of the year. The cover and description were an instant win—but the execution, unfortunately, fell short.
A husband and wife move to a quiet village with their young son, hoping to mend the fractures in their marriage. But from the moment they arrive, an unsettling presence lingers in the shadows. The villagers are less than welcoming, and something prowls outside their cottage at night, watching. No matter how much they try to shake it, an eerie wrongness clings to them—and when they return from a night at the pub to find their son missing, they realize just how deep that wrongness runs.
Drenched in folkloric dread and fairytalesque unease, I was hoping for The Country Will Bring Us No Peace—but what I got felt more akin to Lost in the Garden, The Woodkin, or A Carnival of Atrocities, which received mediocre review from me. It promised fire but delivered only smoking coals. So agonizingly close… yet frustratingly far.
All the best parts were packed into the last quarter of the book. A stronger balance would have made this a standout read.
The Empire of Dirt by Francesca Manfredi
Man, June has been more #meh than #wow so far and I'm starting to really question my choice in books lol...
This one was a total impulse buy—the cover and jacket copy caught my attention instantly. I had a feeling it might not deliver, especially after skimming a few reviews beforehand, but I took the plunge anyway.
Three generations of women live together in the so-called "blind house," named for its windowless front-facing wall. Twelve-year-old Valentina longs for a normal childhood, but normal isn’t in the cards—especially when, on the night of her first period, a crack in her bedroom wall begins to bleed. Their home is a magnet for bizarre phenomena: overrun by infestations of frogs, flies, and locusts. The neighbors whisper about witches, while Valentina’s grandmother insists it's the weight of an old family curse.
Either way, Valentina refuses to heed her grandmother’s pleas for prayer. Instead, she nurses a growing resentment toward her mother—trapped in a relationship where neither seems able to reach the other. Her solace comes in fleeting escapes: the steady presence of her best friend Ilaria, the tentative spark with Marco, and the few, stolen moments with her estranged father.
The Empire of Dirt spends most of its time on the shifting insecurities of adolescence and the complexities of familial bonds, while barely skimming the surface of the paranormal intrigue that made its synopsis so compelling.
It was fine, and I’m fine with that. If you’re more drawn to the coming-of-age elements than the eerie undertones, this might be exactly what you’re looking for.
How to Survive a Horror Story by Mallory Arnold
Ooooh, this book was an absolute blast—I devoured it! The best part? I went in with zero expectations, and it completely blew me away.
A deceased writer assembles a carefully chosen group of people at his mansion—each with a unique connection to him. The promise of an inheritance draws them in, but once inside, they realize they’re not beneficiaries —they’re contestants in a deadly game of survival.
Think escape room meets Clue meets Disney’s Monster House —only the house isn’t just haunted, it’s hungry. Solve the riddles to move through each room or someone dies. Horribly. Their sacrifice feeds the house. And in the end, only one walks away—with everything.
Eerily reminiscent of Wendig's recently released Staircase in the Woods, the 'players' quickly realize the only way out is through, and each riddle unearths a secret so damning, they’d sooner lie, betray, or kill than confess.
It was deliciously campy and entertaining—light on scares but wound so tight with tension that putting it down wasn’t an option. This was exactly the book I needed after the streak I’d been on.
You’re going to read it, right?! Tell me you're running out to buy it when it releases in July...! Trust me, you don’t want to sleep on this one.
The Swimmers by Marian Womack
I’d been circling this book for ages in bookstores and finally snatched it up when I stumbled across a used copy. Something about it made me hesitate to pay full price, and in hindsight, I’m glad I trusted that instinct.
The concept is really compelling: Earth has been decimated by a mysterious cataclysm known as the Green Winter, and only the elite in the Upper Settlement—a sleek, man-made ring orbiting the planet—enjoy any semblance of comfort. Below, the surface-dwellers claw out a brutal existence amid an ecosystem that’s turned vicious. Forests don’t just grow—they hunt, encroaching on isolated settlements and swallowing them whole. The resentment between those grounded on Earth and those floating above bubbles beneath the surface and when Pearl—our main character—is matched with a ringer, she starts digging into the polished myths and quiet omissions that shield the Upper Settlement.
While the setup had serious potential, the execution felt like someone dropped the ball, kicked it into a ravine, and then forgot why they were playing. The story threw around labels like swimmers, beanies, techies, and storytellers and I kept thinking, any minute now they’ll explain things but—nope. Nothing. Just vibes and confusion. By the end, I assumed the author hoped we’d just nod along like it all made perfect sense.
The story never quite lived up to its ambitious worldbuilding. And it dragged, even as I tried to power through the pages. Then again, maybe the real problem was me—trying to focus on a mediocre dystopia while surrounded by sun, surf, and boardwalk ice cream. So sure, ok maybe the book had some stiff competition.
If you are on the fence with this one like I was... go ahead and pass. You're not missing anything, I promise.
The Autumn Springs Retirement Home Massacre by Philip Fracassi
Who says slashers are just for teens and twenty-somethings in remote cabins? And why did we have to wait so long to realize that a retirement home could be the perfect setting for a slasher romp? With a cast of silver-haired sleuths, nosy neighbors, and more gossip than a high school cafeteria, The Autumn Springs Retirement Home Massacre is an absolute riot.
Our sleuthing dream team, Rose and Miller, may not be official, but their not-a-couple chemistry positively zings. Add in a retirement home where gossip travels faster than a Life Alert signal, and you’ve got all the makings of a deliciously twisted whodunit. Because really, what else are the residents of Autumn Springs supposed to do—knit and wait to die peacefully?
Things take a turn for the fabulously fatal when one of their closest friends turns up dead in her bathtub with a suspiciously snapped neck and a broken hip.
What follows is a gleefully macabre whodunit, light on gore but the slasher spirit is alive and stabbing. I flew through it, donning my own detective hat as Rose and her friends raced to uncover the killer in an attempt to stem the growing pile of corpses that would make Jason Voorhees proud.
Forget Werther’s Originals—these seniors are serving deadly originality. They came for the early bird special… and stayed for the serial killer.
And yes, I’m humbly confessing that I only just realized the book cover depicts the slasher’s arm wielding a knife—not a bizarre rock formation in the desert. Don’t judge me. Or do. I earned it.
Subdivision by J Robert Lennon
It’s been way too long since I read J. Robert Lennon and wow, I forgot how eerie and off-kilter his writing is. This book simmers with tension, like something’s slightly...wrong. But in the best possible way. And there’s a kind of low-key magic that's humming just beneath every sentence.
What’s it about? Exactly what you think—and absolutely not. Reality starts to warp, and you won’t even notice until you’re too deep to get out.
Think Jesse Ball, Helen Phillips, Jac Jemc... and yet somehow entirely its own strange, singular thing. It’ll rattle around in your brain, distort your expectations, and you’ll love every disorienting second of it.
Do yourself a favor: put it on your radar!!
Looney! by Stephen Kozeniewski and Gavin Dillinger
Oh no. Oh no no no no no! Oh maaan. This one just wasn’t for me. I made it about 100 pages in before I had to tap out.
I’ve adored Stephen’s past work—Braineater Jones and The Perfectly Fine House are both absolute gems, and I recommend them to anyone who’ll listen. But this one felt like it got body-snatched. Was it the co-author? A cursed manuscript? Some unholy genre mash that defies the natural order? I don’t know. The voice felt off, like it had been diluted or pulled in too many directions.
I kept thinking, “I can’t do this for 300 more pages" and eventually I just noped out.
And it pains me to say it because I adore Stephen and love featuring him on my blog. I had such high hopes—Roger Rabbit meets horror? Yes, please. But it just didn’t click for me.
I wanted to love it. I really did. And the publisher even sent me a pretty print copy for review. I feel like I owe someone an apology fruit basket. Instead, I’m crawling into my little reader's remorse cave for some quiet reflection (and maybe snacks).
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