Review: "Pining for You" by Stef Ferrari

Pining for You by Stef Ferrari
Published September 2026 via Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
★★★

Bennie just wants two things: To get into film school so she can make queer holiday movies, and to get her first kiss. A chance encounter with a cute girl at the Christmas tree farm where Bennie works increases the chance of the latter...if she can just find the girl again. And what's Christmas if not a chance to take a road trip to NYC, attempt her first-ever documentary while she's at it, and get the girl?

I like a cute Christmas book, I like queer romance, and (if we're being honest here) I really like punny titles. And this was good fun—Bennie has a solid friend group, all with well-developed senses of adventure, and they get up to some good-natured minor chaos in NYC. (I also appreciated that this wasn't their first time in the city; they're still functionally tourists, but slightly less wide-eyed than they might be.)

Bennie's "documentary" plot felt a bit thin; she puts down her camera every time someone does or says something that doesn't fit with her view of Christmas magic, even if it's an objectively interesting moment (or if there's something more interesting to say than "look! magic!"). I did like the way her film school arc plays out—not unrealistic—but I was waiting and waiting for a moment when it would get through to her that she was going to have a hard time making her documentary if all she was filming was a montage of context-free happy moments, and that moment really never comes. (And...I know I'm old, but 27 uses of "ya know" is at least 25 uses too many.)

The romance is fine; I see what Bennie likes in Eve, though their romance is really based on vibes and fumes (could turn out great! Just, the entire book is kind of an extended meet-cute, so who knows how things would go once they actually got to spend real time with each other). In the end it's a cute, fast, fun holiday read, albeit probably one that won't stick with me.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "The Queen's Granddaughter" by Diane Zahler

The Queen's Granddaughter by Diane Zahler
Published March 2026 via Roaring Brook Press
★★★

Blanca of Castile loves her life just as it is—but when her grandmother comes calling, Blanca finds that she must embark on her first true adventure, a move to France for a politically advantageous marriage.

Now, I read this almost entirely for the grandmother. Eleanor of Aquitaine is my historical heroine, which has nothing to do with her politics (which were horrific and Isamophobic and often extremely violent—it was not an accident that she went on the Crusades) and everything to do with the fact that she had an astonishing amount of power for a woman in the Middle Ages, and while power itself does not make a person interesting (and a great deal of privilege went into that power), she didn't end up with that kind of power by being wet behind the ears. More on her politics in a moment, but I'm always delighted to find a new take on Eleanor of Aquitaine, and this comes at it from a perspective that I haven't seen before: Eleanor in her later years, as seen by one of her granddaughters.

The late 1100s were of course a very different time. Travel was an Ordeal. In The Queen's Granddaughter, Blanca's mother (Eleanor, Queen of Castile, named for her own mother) says that she hasn't seen her mother (aka Eleanor herself) since she was twelve, presumably not long after she married. And of course this sort of thing is not unheard of now—some children are still pushed into marriage, and some children are still separated from their parents for years or decades because of conflicts or borders. But in the late 1100s this was, you know, normal. (Or at least normal for those for whom marriage was heavily political.) I will note that Zahler says in the history section at the end of the book that Eleanor (the OG, not the queen of Castile) was born in 1122 and married at the age of fifteen, but to the best of my knowledge the year of her birth isn't actually known (at the time she was born, she was "just a girl", and nobody had reason to think that she'd end up being the powerhouse that she was, so a record of her birthday wasn't important...or if there was a record, it's long since been lost), and while she might have been born in 1122 a lot of scholars think she was born in 1124, which would have had her married at thirteen, not fifteen. On one level it doesn't matter, but I'm not a fan of the choice to present one of those years as fact, without any acknowledgement of the unknowns.

But I digress. This isn't Eleanor's story: It's Blanca's. Blanca's best friend and confidante is a girl named Suna, who has a level head to Blanca's rasher nature. Suna is hard of hearing following childhood illness, and her family is Muslim, which in Castile (at least according to this book; I do not know any history of the area) is a nonissue but in Eleanor's France is...more of an issue. (See: Crusades.) I appreciate that the book makes an effort to address this—both Eleanor's prejudices and the difficulty of being in a minority religion, anywhere and anytime. There is some element of glossing-over (I find Eleanor fascinating but, again, wildly problematic; even in her old age I'm not convinced she'd have come around in the way she does here), but one that makes sense in a middle grade book.

Blanca I didn't love. She's twelve in the book, but I didn't know that going in (I know—it's the first line in the description—but I shelved the book months before I read it, and I don't usually go back and read the description in between), and when Blanca was first introduced I genuinely thought she was about seven: listening at doors and stomping her foot when she didn't get her way. It's not that I think that twelve-year-olds, then and now, don't do that, but twelve in the Middle Ages was a different thing. Twelve was old enough to get married, old enough to be doing a lot of household work and preparation for the future. It's not that I think that twelve-year-olds were more mature in the 1100s than they are now, but I think they were maybe expected to be more mature anyway, and that doesn't really jive with stomping around like an elementary-school student having a fit. I suppose she's written for the modern twelve-year-olds, but I didn't love it.

Still, it's a lively adventure story and an interesting look at a different part of Eleanor's life than we usually get. This one was a priority for me from the moment I saw it was coming out, and even if I've aged out of it somewhat I'm glad it's out there for the actual twelve-year-olds to enjoy.

Review: "She's a Doll" by Barbara Truelove

She's a Doll by Barbara Truelove
Published September 2026 via Bindery Books
★★★★★

Lucy's dead—but death isn't going to stop her. She's a little messy and a lot angry and oh, by the way, she's currently possessing a bride doll.

I don't read a ton of horror, but I was so curious about this one that I just couldn't resist. There's something just so delightfully creepy about a haunted doll, and even better that the book is told from the perspective of said haunted doll.

Lucy's refrain throughout the book is simple and heartbreaking:

Why did he do that to me?
Why couldn't I stop him?
What's going to happen now?

This isn't a one-off lament—even without the minor detail of being dead, Lucy's been through some serious trauma, and there aren't really simple answers to any of those questions. She struggles throughout the book: with anger, with physical limitations, with getting used to what she can and cannot do as a possessed doll, with loss after loss. This isn't just the loss of her life; it's the loss of her future, her family, her dog, any romantic aspirations, her freedom as she knows it, the ability to taste food and take a shower and communicate freely.

It's messy. Lucy is messy. The friendship she develops with Nicola, eventually, is messy. The beginning of the book notes that Lucy is a liar, but for most of the book it's not even that she lies; it's that she's so desperate to get vengeance for her murder that she can't see past her own nose. Or, sometimes she can see how hard things are for Nicola too, but rarely can Lucy hold on to that long enough to rein herself in. It makes for such a complicated relationship and such a complicated book, even as Lucy is storming around in a mold-infested body with cracks in her porcelain head and a stick for a makeshift arm. It's dark and it's fabulous.

I said I don't read a ton of horror, and that's true, but honestly, between this and Bethesda maybe it's time to rethink that?

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "Morfran, Dark Lord Reformed" by S.B. West

Morfran, Dark Lord Reformed by S.B. West
Published September 2026 via Ace
★★★★

Morfran is tired of beheading his subjects—tired enough that he has ended his marriage to the gleefully violent Ravana, fled his castle, and reinvented himself as Bernard, a goat farmer (and of course expert jam-maker). But when his goat farm is burned down by Ravana's soldiers, and he finds himself saving a group of rebels, he is forcefully adopted by said rebels...and they want Bernard to help bring down Morfran. As in, himself. As in, oops.

This is best read with tongue firmly in cheek and a well-developed sense of absurdité. I actually regret reading this almost as soon as I got a copy, because frankly I could use a light and irreverent read now!

"Is that my sword?" Morfran sat up as high as he could, angrily incredulous to the image. His sword had become something of an icon to his legacy as Dark Lord of Ruthven™. Black and wicked-looking, it was forged with sweat, tears, and red food dye #7, and a blood amber topped off its devilish appearance in the pommel. It was so popular kingdom-wide that his men had taken to having their swords styled in a way just like it, and Morfran was quite pleased to know he was a trendsetter among his villainous peers. (loc. 546*)

The whole book goes a bit like this—there's plot, and there's character development, and there's quite a bit of fighting (and of course a romance along the way), but it's cloaked in satire and silliness. High notes include (but are not limited to) Bronwen's curse and Morfran's constant thwarted attempts at escape...not to mention the goats.

I will note that while I loved the book, I didn't love the way Morfran was eventually asked to atone for his actions. It makes some sense in the context of the story, and certainly it's in line with the tone of the book, but it also felt a little easy (not to mention as though it could cause big other problems in the future). The flip side is that his atonement had to be very big gesture (his entire previous identity was wrapped around killing people), and not much else would likely do the job, so that that as you will.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "With All My Haunted Heart" by Isabel Sterling

With All My Haunted Heart by Isabel Sterling
Published September 2026 via Berkley
★★★★

Pippa's magic business is struggling—but when her friend asks her to go against her usual instincts and bring ghosts to his new B&B rather than banishing them, well...it's a challenge. But one she's up for. Especially because her friend's business partner is just about as intriguing as the magic challenge...

This was super cute. I'm reminded a bit of The Faraway Inn in the way magic works here—there are kinks to work out, but it's mostly fairly light. For Pippa, magic is something creative; she has, for various reasons, turned away from the type of magic her family uses, and her days (when she has the clients, anyway) are spent counteracting curses and banishing ghosts. Haunting (instead of un-haunting) a B&B has its own unique set of challenges, starting with finding ghosts who will be a good fit for the place, and I thoroughly enjoyed Pippa's thought processes as she figured out what was possible and what was necessary.

The stakes stay relatively small in the book (big for the people involved, but not always more broadly) but there are some pretty heavy themes. I avoid spoilers, but readers who have had significant loss might want to check the trigger warnings. They're in there for a reason, though, and those themes inform the way the relationship shakes out. I like the relationship quite a lot—both characters taking care to ensure that they help the other with their baggage—though I think I would have liked to learn a bit more about Elle. I'm not sure Pippa really gets the closure that she deserves (her family, man!), and I did wonder whether there might be setup for a future book, or if not setup then at least a door left intentionally open.

I'd love to see a future book that involves the ghosts more; there are some fun characters among them, and it would be super fun to see what hijinks the ghosts get up to when...well, when they're bored, or when there's a problem that can best be solved by people without corporeal bodies...I don't know if this is meant to be a series eventually, but I'd happily read more.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "The Camino" by Anya Niewierra

The Camino by Anya Niewierra
Translated from the Dutch by Eileen Stevens
Published August 2026 via Simon & Schuster
★★★

A year ago, Lotte's husband died violently on the Camino; now, she's walking his same route in his memory, trying to understand what drove him to end it all.

I'll very happily read most things about the Camino, even more than a decade after I walked it myself (on different routes than Lotte), and it's been a delight to see a bit more fiction coming through about the experience. For a while it was mostly memoir and the occasional nonfiction treatise, and I love both of those things, but I also love variety. The Camino is billed as a thriller, although I'm not sure that's entirely accurate. The plot hinges on a complicated backstory, some of what Lotte learns as she goes and some of which we get through letters throughout the book: Her husband, whom she knew to have been a refugee following the Bosnian genocide (she's never known details), was living under a false name, and—given the awful way that he died—Lotte is desperate to know whether his past contributed to his suicide. So that's one part of the mystery, but the other part is in the...accidents...that keep happening around Lotte.

The parts about the Bosnian genocide are complicated and (I overuse this word, but it's accurate) fascinating. They're also hard to read in places; the book doesn't shy away from the horrors of neighbors turning against neighbors, of nationalism turned violent, of not knowing who you can trust or where is safe to be. There's a lot the reader (to say nothing of Lotte) doesn't fully understand until close to the end, including who held what perspectives and roles during the genocide; there's also some really interesting discussion about what all of this means for the present day, and whether it's possible to truly reinvent onself.

Lotte, though, I struggled with. I didn't really need all the attempts on her life (I lost count of how many there were, but suffice it to say that the attempts are pretty well constant); I think the historical mystery was enough mystery for me, and I could have done without the constant murder attempts (none of which Lotte understands as anything other than coincidence until very close to the end). Lotte thinks she's pretty aware of her surroundings, but it takes her quite a long time to put together the pieces, and when she starts deciding who to trust based largely on hormones, I started thinking she was a bit TSTL (too busy telling people she's a chocolatier to focus on possible consequences?). The number of men falling in love or in lust with her also stretched the bounds of my imagination, and by the end of the book I think I was just a little over Lotte.

So a mixed bag. For the Bosnia material alone, this would be four stars, but mixed with other things it ended up somewhat lower for me. Your mileage may vary, especially if you read it in the original Dutch or in a different translation—always hard to know how much that might impact the experience.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

Review: "When I Fell from the Sky" by Juliane Koepcke

When I Fell from the Sky by Juliane Koepcke
Translated by Ross Benjamin
Published 2011 via Titletown Publishing
★★★★

In December 1971, Koepcke got on a plane with her mother in Lima to return to their home in the Peruvian rainforest. It was a trip they'd made many times before and one that should have been uneventful—except that the plane crashed, and when Koepcke regained consciousness, she found herself alone among the trees, with a broken collarbone and nobody else in sight. Eventually she heard search planes circling—but she understood almost immediately that the vastness of the forest and the density of the trees made her chance of a rescue next to impossible, and so she set about rescuing herself.

Later I will learn that at that time the entire river was uninhabited. If I had simply lain down somewhere and stayed there, I would never have been found. (98)

I've had this book on my radar for some time (Wikipedia rabbit holes and all that), but I recently read a middle grade take on Koepcke's story, and it seemed absurd to have read someone else's take but not her own. Koepcke shifts back and forth throughout the story, between her time in the rainforest and the time after she made it back to safety. What I most appreciate is that she talks about the long-term process of moving forward as well as the immediate impact. There's just no way for this to not change your life immediately and totally; in addition to being the sole survivor of a terrible accident, Koepcke lost her mother and in some ways emotionally lost her father, who was of course devastated by the loss of his wife. And yet although it turned her life upside down, it doesn't sound like it turned the trajectory of her life upside down, at least not overall.

One thing of note: The world is a terribly cruel place sometimes. I mentioned this when I reviewed Follow the Water, too, but it bears repeating in Koepcke's own words:

Later I was accused in the press of simply leaving selfishly, without worrying about the injured. In other newspapers it was even written that the survivors were wandering around in the forest, screaming and crying, and I ran off on my own. The truth is, I found no survivors. I don't know what I would have done if I had actually found injured passengers and possibly my mother. Probably I would have stayed with them and we would have perished together. (78)

Hopefully this wouldn't happen today, but man, the cruelty of making this sort of thing up about a child (Koepcke was 17), and one who had just survived something horrific and lost her mother no less, just to sell some papers.

At any rate, the book is an interesting and measured read. Koepcke was so terribly unlucky in some ways, but so terribly lucky in others—to have injuries that she could still walk with; to have her mind push her pain away until she was safe; to have grown up learning to navigate the rainforest and thus to be at home and knowledgeable in her environment when so many others would not have known what to do (and, as she notes, when in a different environment she also would not know what to do). Well worth the read.

Review: Short story: "The Spider Silk Scarf" by Ana Reyes

The Spider Silk Scarf by Ana Reyes
Published September 2026 via Amazon Original Stories

When Nora steals, it fills something of a gap within her. She steals things that make her happy, and so far she hasn't been caught. But the spider silk scarf is something else entirely—a rarity, yes, and one she knows she has to have, but one that will require breaking into an old woman's home. And, surprising perhaps no one, things do not go to plan.

What interests me most here is what is asked of the reader: Nora's not a bad person, but she is also, objectively, a criminal; some of her thefts are petty, but others are markedly more significant. And yet the story asks you to sympathize with Nora, at least partially, to hope that she doesn't get caught and (maybe) that she'll come away with her booty. And on the whole, it works: I found myself, if not entirely supporting Nora, at least hoping that she wouldn't be caught in too ugly a way; I didn't really want her to be able to steal the scarf, but...well, it's some interesting work.

Again, things do not really go to plan for Nora. I figured out well before she did what might be going on, which in this context of this story makes some sense. Nicely ambiguous ending, too, or if not ambiguous exactly then at least not all tied up with a bow.

<i>Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.</i>

Review: "Just Between Us" by Adeline Kon

Just Between Us by Adeline Kon
Published February 2026 via Dial Books
★★★

As a skater, Lydia is at the top of her game—her technical prowess is unmatched, and she's confident that she can win any competition she sets her sights on. Her attitude, though...that leaves something to be desired. Enter Elaine, against whom Lydia has competed for years; Elaine does not have quite the consistency or skills that Lydia does, but she still finds joy when she steps onto the rink.

Now, I cannot relate to either of these characters on a skating level: I can just about keep my balance on the ice, and that's where my skill starts and ends. But skating is fun to watch and fun to read about, and the illustrations here do a great job at capturing the athleticism and grace required to be competitive at skating.

The characters I didn't love. Or rather: Elaine's character felt a bit indistinct. She's pretty close to unfailingly kind, a golden girl who gets along with just about everyone and is highly respected in her sport to boot. She's also hiding a thing or two about her personal life. But...not a lot beyond that. Lydia, meanwhile, has isolated herself from just about everyone around her; her response to kindness or rudeness or praise or concern is to snap at the person in question and, if they too are a skater, to remind them that her ranking is higher than theirs (or if they aren't a skater, to tell them that they don't understand the pressures of being on top). Part of Lydia's journey throughout the book is of course to let her walls down a bit and be...a bit kinder to people...but until she gets to that point there's quite a lot of bitterness and ego, and after that point there's quite a bit of teenage angst. Had its moments, but by the end I was ready to move on to something else.

Review: "Concrete" by Stephen Parnell

Concrete by Stephen Parnell
Published September 2026 via Bloomsbury Academic
★★★★

Here we meet the first of concrete's famous paradoxes: concrete is both inherently and simultaneously precise and messy, depending on the material's state and on one's viewpoint. (loc. 99*)

Back to my favourite nonfiction series! In Concrete, Parnell dives into...you guessed it...concrete. Parnell is an architect, so concrete is something he knows well, being as it is a major player in contemporary architecture. (My architect husband, when asked, described concrete as "almost like a mythical material" but said that he's against its use now, on climate grounds...but more on that in a moment.)

Much of this book is about architecture, and the types of architecture that the development of concrete has enabled. Brutalism is the obvious style, of course, but Parnell argues that concrete has a great deal more versatility than is often ascribed to it. I highlighted some lines because they interested me, but I highlighted many more because there were so many buildings to look up later (I'm particularly charmed by Ricardo Bofill's reinvention of a disused cement factory into a living and working space).

I was concerned for a while that the book would not touch on the climate impact of concrete, but of course I worried too soon: [Concrete] is responsible for about 8 percent of global CO₂ emissons, more than aviation (2.5 percent) and not far behind agriculture (12 percent). [...] if it were a country, [the cement industry] would be the fifth largest emitter (behind China, the United States, India, and Russia. (loc. 1418) Or, well, perhaps I didn't worry too soon, because I knew concrete wasn't great for the environment, but I didn't know the numbers were so damning. Or consider this:

One recent study estimated that 14 percent of the United States' and 60 percent of China's coastlines are now made of concrete. (loc. 1431)

What a grim image! Concrete has its place...but it's time to consider other, more environmentally friendly options.

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a review copy through NetGalley.

*Quotes are from an ARC and may not be final.