• Novel Review: The Unfathomable Curse (The Undetectables #3) by Courtney Smyth [2025]

    Spoilers: None
    Genre: Paranormal Mystery / Urban Fantasy Detective
    Format: Paperback
    Source: Bought
    Rating: Liked (4★)

    Smyth is growing as a writer with each book, and The Unfathomable Curse is the best in the series so far.

    In this instalment, The Undetectables detective agency faces its most personal case yet, and they are on the clock to solve it before a fatal deadline.

    Will they solve the mystery in time, or will they be left with more questions and corpses?

    That depends on whether they can get the Ghoul Council to react without first holding a meeting about it.

    From the opening pages, Smyth is whisking the characters between gravesites, witness interviews, and stakeouts, while coping with a still-not-right Theo and running two investigations.

    What is brilliant is that this book focuses on Cornelia. I was a bit miffed reading the last one because Smyth moved Mallory away from the centre of attention and made Diana the main focus.

    Though this didn’t occur to me until I was a good chunk in, I now see that each book gives one of them their moment in the spotlight. I can see this choice means the reader gets to know and understand each of them better by getting into their heads. I want to go back and re-read the earlier books now that I know Cornelia better.

    Now I understand why this is a four-book series.

    It’s one of those books where it’s better not to think too deeply about the structure of the world-building.

    For example, the Ghoul Council burying itself in paperwork rather than addressing the crisis directly explains why Cornelia’s relationship with her family is the way it is (her parents head the council) and helps move the plot along by their inaction, so the detectives can investigate without their help. I can understand why Smyth chose to do this, but it can feel off because they seem constrained by the plot rather than by their own behaviour.

    The only other issue is that sometimes scenes with the main characters turn into isolated bubbles where the side characters are forgotten. There are moments where the other people in the scene should be having quite a strong response to what has just been revealed to them.

    For example, late in the book, actions have been taken that I would demand be repaired, but no one demands anything, and no one talks about it. Instead, those other characters just seem to vanish from the conversation and the scene itself – to be fair, I might have missed the description of it happening, but it shouldn’t have been a throwaway line if it was mentioned.

    Given this book’s ending and Theo’s behaviour throughout, the final instalment will almost certainly focus on his thoughts, feelings, and motivations.

    It’s one of those books where you get towards the end and wonder why you’ve got so many pages left. It’s because Smyth has more surprises to spring. The revelations are well thought out and presented in surprising and shocking ways.

    The ideas introduced here also cast the earlier mysteries in a new, disturbing light.

    My love for Mallory, Diana, and Cornelia is only getting stronger. Though I wonder if I’ll ever like Theo again.

    If you, too, were captivated by the lives of Mallory, Diana and Cornelia and enjoy seeing them work a case, then you’re going to enjoy this.

    I have no idea what the final book will reveal. Smyth has put many pieces in play by seeding them throughout the books. I predict I’ll be pleasantly shocked by what the 4th and final book, The Unsolvable Case, reveals.

    Rating Scale: Loved/Inducted (Personal Canon, 4.5-5★) • Liked/Passing Through (Not Quite Canon, 3.75-4.25★) • Impactful but Flawed/Missed Swings (2.75-3.5★) • Reshelved (Soft DNF) • Not for Me (1-2.5★ or Hard DNF)

  • Novel Review: There is No Antimemetics Division by qntm [2025]

    Spoilers: None
    Genre: Weird/Cosmic Horror
    Format: Hardback
    Source: Bought
    Rating: Inducted (4.5–5★, Recommended)

    What if something was eating your memories? You were also aware that it was happening but didn’t know what it had taken, or what you were doing to stop it, because it wasn’t just your memories it was taking, but everyone else’s too? And what if it wasn’t just one thing but lots of ‘things’ that could affect people’s memories? Then what would you do?

    We are used to ideas (memes) breaking containment.

    …an internet meme is a concept or piece of media that spreads via the internet. It could be anything – a video, hashtag or image…They can come from social interactions, pop culture, or political views.

    Source: MEMES: WHAT ARE THEY?

    Memes change the world, and anti-memes do too. qntm’s There Is No Antimemetics Division explores what happens when ideas don’t spread, but instead resist being remembered and slip from the mind.

    An antimeme is an idea with self-censoring properties; an idea which, by its intrinsic nature, discourages or prevents people from spreading it.

    Source: Antimemetics Division Hub – SCP Foundation

    It opens with Marie Quinn walking into a meeting that feels wrong, and from there, everything feels out of place.

    qntm takes the weirdness of VanderMeer’s Area X novels, combines it with the government bureaucracy of Stross’s The Laundry series, and puts it in a pressure cooker, releasing the results in a series of intense, interlinked sections.

    As a novel that plays with memory, it has its own logic, but it also has jarring moments. It takes what you’ve been told from earlier scenes and twists and changes them, which doesn’t automatically mean you’ve misremembered them.

    It originated as a web serial, and I wonder if that’s why it occasionally feels fragmented. Whether the fragmentation is accidental or deliberate, they add to the uncertainty and enhances the creeping horror signposted throughout.

    As a reader, I don’t think you’re expected to ‘keep’ up with the changes, but you do need to accept that the reality you now see is the one in that moment.

    Cosmic horror is, at its heart, about the uncaring nature of the universe and the entities who are bigger than us, but qntm makes this personal for Quinn, and by extension, the reader. Quinn is perhaps cruelly given back memories she’d lost, only to have them taken away again.

    This is a clever novel; it may frustrate and infuriate, but it builds toward a moment via the mantra:

    No, this is not your first day.

    Recommended for readers interested in the 2026 Arthur C. Clarke Award shortlist and for fans of Jeff VanderMeer, Charles Stross, and creeping existential horror.

  • Review: When There Are Wolves Again by E. J. Swift [2025]

    Spoilers: None
    Genre: Speculative Climate Fiction
    Format: Paperback
    Source: Bought
    Rating: Inducted (4.5–5★)

    Is this Arthur C. Clarke Award-winning book worth your time? Yes. 100% yes.

    When There Are Wolves Again is a climate-focused speculative fiction novel that shows how our choices can nudge the world toward a different, hopefully better, place.

    I’ll let you decide whether Swift is giving us a what-if, making a prediction, or whether her words can become a manifestation?

    Decades from now, two women sit by a fire and speak. Lucy tells us directly how she has fought for nature. Hester reports on her life as if she were an outsider looking in. Lucy uses direct action to force change, while Hester records her observations and shares documentaries of those moments to shift her audience’s perspective.

    It might seem like they’re recounting a fantasy, but the story challenges the current world’s assumption that we can’t respond radically enough to climate change. Instead, it offers an alternative future in which we let nature return and be wild. Their stories empower the reader by showing how something dramatic can be achieved through the choices and sacrifices of just two people.

    I did start to worry that the time-leaping format would feel like a biographical run-through, which would leave me with an ‘oh well’ feeling at the end, but Swift doesn’t just wander aimlessly back to the fireside chat that frames this tale.

    The leaps ahead in time feel deliberately random, and they work. The reader just needs to trust that it will all make sense because it builds an emotional jigsaw that pays off when the last piece clicks into place.

    This is because Swift is willing to pause and examine who we are in those moments; that’s what makes it meaningful.

    The message is that grief, sadness, and regret are part of life, but it’s what we do afterwards that matters.

    Hester leaves home and turns that into an observation of the world, using her camera lens to give nature a voice and, unintentionally, exposing herself. But only after Lucy’s actions for wider change do we understand the cost.

    In contrast, Lucy is an outsider from the start. She takes that rejection and pain, and it fuels her as she shouts and screams for a better deal for nature.

    The author’s skill emerges best in the scenes where the characters are with their family, friends, and enemies. These moments aren’t forced; they’re where Lucy and Hester process their feelings. I got emotional more than once because of how they have to face themselves through their past decisions, present circumstances, and inevitable futures.

    And there is a realisation, followed by discomfort as a reader, that they might not have had a happy life. But their happiness has always been and will remain secondary. The question raised here is: was that worth it? Swift argues, through the changes their lives make to nature, that it is.

    It’s a novel that sticks your hand in the dirt and forces you to look at nature, free to live and die without human constraint or interference. The challenge is to go outside, stick your hand in real soil, and help change things.

    This is for anyone who cares about our future and wants to see a hopeful one made possible by the sacrifices of two remarkable people.

    My Ratings

    • Loved / Inducted (4.5–5★)
    • Passing Through (3.75–4.25★)
    • Impactful but flawed / missed swings (2.75–3.5★)
    • Not for Me / Back on the Shelf (1–2.5★ or DNF)
  • Review: The Somewhat Wicked Witch of Brigandale by C. M. Waggoner [2026]

    Spoilers: None
    Genre: Fantasy
    Format: Hardback
    Source: Bought
    Rating: Adored (6★)

    I impulse-bought The Somewhat Wicked Witch of Brigandale after tylersshelf posted a TikTok review saying, ‘This book is so silly, so campy. It gives you all those fairy-tale vibes but with adult themes.’ Given the heavier reading I’d been doing, I bought it and bumped it right up my TBR. It’s rare that humour works for me in a novel.

    His review was spot on — I loved it for being fun, and now I’m keen to read another of his recommendations, The Lost Story by Meg Shaffer.

    It’s a 6/5 ⭐️ read that has set the bar high for the rest of my 2026 reading.

    It’s brilliant. Waggoner takes the leave-a-baby-that-is-probably-a-king-with-a-witch-to-raise trope and has fun with it. Drawing on humour and concepts that feel schooled by Pratchett’s approach to fairy tales and witches (with their practical approach to problem-solving combined with keen-eyed observations on human nature), Waggoner cranks up the narrative snark and uses it to tell the story of a mother (Gretsella) who will bring down a kingdom just to see her son (Bradley) happy. 

    The playfulness begins in the chapter subheadings and extends into the footnotes and descriptions, all of which are carried by the narrator’s voice, which reminds me of a sassy magical mirror.

    The characters have substance, the cast is varied, and Waggoner sticks with fairy-tale‑like scenarios, adds twists so they feel fresh, and it works. The key reason for picking this up was the queer love story, which is sweet, doesn’t dominate, and lets it be just two people in love. It is utterly cosy.

    The pacing, with the interludes and asides, feels like it’s always moving things forward or giving you fun snippets. It’s smart, charming, and cosy, and at 210 pages, it doesn’t outstay its welcome. The ending hints that further tales of Gretsella and Bradley may follow. I, for one, vote they do.

    As you can tell, I was charmed — maybe enchanted — by it. Regardless, I now feel compelled to enjoy it all over again, as I’ve never giggled this much at a book, and I hope you do too.

  • Review: Harbour of Hungry Ghosts  by Eliza Chan [2026]

    Spoilers: None
    Genre: Fantasy 
    Format: e-ARC 
    Source: NetGalley (in exchange for an unbiased review) 
    Rating: Mixed

    Together, Kiamling and her grandmother fight ghosts, spirits, and other monsters who threaten the citizens of British Colonial Hong Kong. No one appreciates the work they do. Everyone believes that the pair brings bad luck. 

    When her grandmother is spirited away, Kiamling continues to scrub pots by day and fight monsters by night, while trying to keep her sister untainted by association with her ‘bad luck’ so her sister can have a happy married life. 

    To Kiamling, this is a loving burden to carry, but to her sister, it comes across as resentful.

    And initially, I thought her personality was just a reaction to her grandmother’s constant corrections. But after seeing her solo encounters, I think Chan wants to heavily reinforce that her sister is the light and Kiamling is the shadow – and went full grimdark to prove it. 

    Chan piles on the pressure. She relentlessly places the main character’s acerbic, headstrong personality in situations that shouldn’t cause conflict for anyone else, but of course for her that’s exactly what happens. Kiamling doesn’t build relationships, so her jobs don’t go well. She generally upsets people. The love triangle feels forced and painful, though maybe with good reason. She’s not a likeable person; she keeps showing herself up. She’s like a grimdark Buffy, and that made reading it feel like a slog.

    I think I’m too old for it. I think its audience is younger, or people who like grim late-teen/early-twenties characters grumping around while doing the right thing.

    And what makes me grumpier is that this is obviously what the author wants and intends: to make the characters and the world grim and to give the reader an exhilarating yet grim time. 

    Chan shows how the British are there for profit and exploitation, and they believe they are superior. Because of this arrogance, they have no regard for local traditions, which goes against everything she and her grandmother represent.

    This sets up some great action scenes, including the opening, where a soldier almost kisses a corpse; an event for the dead, where the British don’t realise the consequences of their actions until fires start burning buildings; and another, where Kiamling has to bring stone statues to life to save the day. More generally, it felt like a real place. All this shows what the author is capable of.

    There are also some structural issues. The pacing and urgency don’t seem right, and if the character grated less, I think I could have forgiven it more. It is mostly me, despite the issues. Maybe book 2 will smooth things out.

    Throughout, Chan presents ‘tests’ for Kiamling, culminating in the final exam question, ‘Will she grow as a person?’

    If you can stand an annoying MC, then read it and decide for yourself. 

    Note: I rate on a four-tier scale: Loved (4.5–5★), Liked (3.75–4.25★), Mixed (2.75–3.5★), and Not for me (1–2.5★).