First of all, I have to say this really impressed me for being a debut. I honestly thought—occasional typo aside—the writing was solid and displayed real confidence.
There was a good blend of action, dialogue, and interiority (I think newer authors can fall into the trap of spending pages upon pages inside a character’s head and that pulls me out of the story every time).
The characters were interesting and easy to become emotionally invested in. The conflict had me stressed OUT far more than I was expecting to be. And honestly, the story in general just felt a lot more high-stakes than your typical cartoon cover romcom, and I found that really worked for me.
My only complaints were that towards the end, I got a bit lost as to the finer details of the plot. I felt like I needed a visual aid to keep track of the underlying motivations behind all the different characters’ actions.
Also there were a couple throwaway lines that read as trans-exclusionary (“I notice the bulge in his pants and my eyes stretch wide. … “Put that thing away.” I attempt to move past him, but he blocks me, holding either side of the door frame. “I’m a man. What’d you expect?”) and ableist (someone’s toxic and violent behavior is described as “demented”). Neither felt malicious, but I still noticed them.
All in all, this book was a pleasant surprise. I picked it up because the cover is lovely, but I knew nothing about the author, which is always a gamble. I’m glad I did though. D.J. Murphy is officially on my radar! Can’t wait for a sequel.
It’s not that I didn’t like this; I really appreciated all the sentiments expressed in the book.
It kind of lost me when it started to feel especially repetitive (a lot of the chapters often repeated information from previous sections over and over), but I finally decided I wasn’t enjoying it anymore when it shifted from exploring the structural issues that exist within capitalism and contribute to our overwork/fear of “laziness” into mitigation that focuses on personal action. It started to feel like they were saying “yes we acknowledge the problem is capitalism, but the solution is to shift your perspective! Focus on savoring the moment! Restrict your screen time!”
Granted, considering I gave up at 61%, there’s a chance it could’ve shifted to structural solutions, but I didn’t want to force myself to keep going.
This is one of those books that is both impossible to put down but also extremely hard to read.
Definitely check the trigger warnings and take them to heart. If you’re not comfortable reading about child sexual abuse (it doesn’t happen on-page but it’s recounted, and the resulting trauma is a central plot element) as well as adult sexual assault (which IS described on-page), then maybe consider sitting this one out to protect yourself.
There’s quite a few things I loved about this. I loved the author’s focus on the way being a partner to someone with unresolved and unaddressed trauma can cause trauma. We watch as Matt takes it upon himself to be the one “saving” Logan again and again, ignoring his own needs in the process. But no partner should have to take on that role for the person they love. Playing the perpetual savior with only lead to burnout, hurt, and eventually resentment.
Relatedly, I loved that this book didn’t choose to make Mattie’s love the thing that saves Logan. Only Logan’s own commitment to his mental health and healing could ever do that.
I also loved the commentary this book includes about internet fan culture. There’s some well-deserved criticism for twitter dog-piling—the vitriol mixed with a total and complete breakdown in boundaries—and how fans believe they’re entitled to the lives of celebrities.
Similar to Tia Williams’ Seven Days in June, this book almost doesn’t have an HEA, so if you’re only happy with a “and then they skipped off into the sunset holding hands” kind of romance, this might leave you feeling a bit let down. Just be prepared.
I was intrigued by the plot—true originality is something that, at times, feels missing in contemporary romance—and I really wanted to like this book, but in the end it just didn’t work for me.
The big thing was just that I found the pacing of the romantic relationship to be too abrupt. It felt like they were declaring their love for one another unbelievably fast, especially given how prickly they were at the beginning. I anticipated a slower burn.
It also felt lacking in the side characters department. Chloe’s friends are incorporated here and there, and even as their relationship definitely grows throughout the length of the book, it still felt very surface-level throughout.
The dialogue, especially Warren’s sometimes made me cringe, especially in the more intimate scenes. They just struck me as a bit juvenile, but that’s entirely personal preference.
And the whole thing with him having been in a band felt shoehorned in for no particular reason. Like that plot thread never really went anywhere.
It’s not that I thought this book was bad, by any means! Like I said, I was really intrigued by the story. That’s the big thing that kept me wanting to keep reading, I loved the story. The characters, though maybe a little underdeveloped, were still endearing. I still wanted to root for them. Overall, ok. Just a tad disappointing in my opinion.
There are so many moments in this collection of essays/poetry that I loved enough to highlight, circle, star, underline three times.
I loved “to the deathwalkers” for its emphatic “I can’t and won’t force you to stay, but I’ll never stop begging you to” (paraphrase).
I loved “to the church of social justice” for “i have questions about heaven. i have questions about the Revolution. those questions are the same: upon whose bones do you intend to build your paradise?”
I loved “to J.K. Rowling” for “a monster is a part of ourselves that we don’t want to find in the mirror. a part of ourselves we try to cut out and split off and put inside other people so that they can carry it for us: our fear. our shame.”
I loved “to the exiled” for “i want to sing the stories that tell not of the cleansing power of blood, but the transformative power of tears.”
And I loved “to the ones this world was never made for” for “choosing love is a practice. every day it takes all my strength. still, i believe in this body, this soul, this fallible flesh that still burns with wanting.”
I wanted to like this, I really really did. It has so many of the elements I typically like in a slow-burn enemies-to-lovers vampire romance.
But I think the story was so focused on being a Beauty and the Beast retelling, that it forgot to properly explain any of the context necessary to understand the plot.
There are a few paragraphs in the opening chapters that attempt to hastily explain what “the Claiming” actually is and why it’s necessary, but even after having finished the book, I find I have more questions than answers.
Like: Why is it called that? Why does it happen once a year and what does the blood moon have to do with it? Why does the “Claim” have to spend a month at the castle before the curse takes over? What is Marius’s motivation for allowing it? Does he just think “oh look, the town’s folk are offering me a free meal again, how lovely!” And for that matter, what is the coven’s motivation for sacrificing people they know won’t be able to kill the beast for the 99 years before Jak is born? The significance of Katharine and why her family is special is also just, never explained. Are we to assume that might be answered in future books? Idk.