Author: Tirzah Price

In Most Ardently, Gabe Cole Novoa recasts Elizabeth Bennet’s character as Oliver Bennet, a trans boy who wants nothing more than to live his life as his authentic self and who cringes at the thought of becoming someone’s “wife.” When he and his sisters first attend the ball at Meryton and meet newcomers Bingley and Darcy, Darcy doesn’t make a good impression on Oliver. He’s curt and rude and shows no interest in being polite. But when Darcy meets Oliver as his true self the next day, Oliver is surprised to find a different side of Darcy. Rather than haughty and cruel, he realizes Darcy is shy and bookish, with little patience for social pomp. As Mrs. Bennet conspires to set up Jane and Bingley, Oliver finds himself more and more in Darcy’s presence, but not as his true self and realizes that he’s falling for a boy who doesn’t realize who he is.

I loved this reimagining of Pride & Prejudice, and I thought it was extremely clever how Novoa was able to retell the beloved original tale with a trans protagonist. The changes that he makes are really interesting — not just to the plot and character but also to the setting. Novoa situates Meryton on the outskirts of London, allowing Oliver to take part in aspects of London society and culture that are absent in the original market village: molly houses, coffee shops, gentlemen’s clubs, and more. The historical details strike the perfect balance of ringing true to the source material while also introducing readers to more aspects of Regency life beyond the drawing room. The romantic tension is exquisite, especially as Oliver longs to be his true self with Darcy, and the way that certain Austen characters pop up is both surprising and fun. Some deviations are to be expected, but every change Novoa makes honors his characters, and you can’t help but root for them. This is a must-read if you’re an Austen retelling fan!

Iris Winnow’s brother went to war, and she hasn’t heard a word from him since. In his absence, she had to drop out of school, find a job, and care for her mother, who had succumbed to addiction. She’s lucky, though — she’s found a job as a junior reporter at Oath’s biggest newspaper. The only problem is that she’s competing against Roman Kitt — wealthy, privileged — for one columnist spot. At night, Iris writes letters to her brother that she slips into her wardrobe…where they disappear. What she doesn’t know is that are magically transported to Roman’s own wardrobe, and he’s been reading them for weeks. But when tragedy strikes for Iris, and Roman finally begins to write back, anonymously, it sets them on a path that will take them all the way to the war front, where they will learn the truth about each other and the war sweeping their land.

I am a sucker for any fantasy world that looks very similar to our own but is definitely not. Some call it “low fantasy,” but I find that to be an inexact descriptor for this world, which feels like England circa World War I, but is its own world with its own legends and lore surrounding the mythological gods and goddesses who have been sleeping for centuries and are now responsible for the war tearing apart the country.

But all of that is revealed slowly. First, you meet Iris and Roman, and you get to know them as people. I thought Ross did a wonderful job creating their characters, and while she mainly sticks pretty close to Iris’s perspective, we do get to see Roman’s point of view. They start out as rivals, but as Roman gets to see the vulnerable side of Iris, he falls in love with her…but she leaves town for the front before he has a chance to confess his feelings. The book then takes a turn as Iris goes to the war front, where she works as a correspondent, and finds that the war of gods is closer than she realizes and more perilous than she can imagine. The second half of the book unfolds, contrasting the war-time danger with the romance between the two characters, ending on a cliffhanger that will ensure you’ll want the sequel, Ruthless Vows, on hand. I was so mesmerized by the writing, and rooting so hard for Roman and Iris that I could barely put the book down — and the sequel is a wonderful follow-up that expands upon the lore that Ross seeds in the first book. Definitely don’t sleep on this duology!

Skye is in her late thirties, and she owns her own business, leading international travel tours for Black women. She spends most of her life on the road and only comes back to her hometown of Philadelphia a few times each year to crash with her oldest friend. While she’s on one of her sporadic trips home, she is shocked when a 12-year-old girl named Vicky approaches her and reveals that she is the result of an egg that Skye donated to a one-time friend with infertility over a decade ago. As if this isn’t jarring enough, Vicky clearly wants a relationship with Skye, and Vicky’s aunt Faye is the woman that Skye recently tried (and failed) to pick up. Although she’s always been more of a cut-and-run type, Skye decides to stick around and see what happens when she takes a chance on getting to know someone.

This book is a truly laugh out loud funny story, and Skye is a really charismatic person — the type of person you definitely want to be friends with, and who always has wild stories, but whose judgment when it comes to relationships (familial, platonic, and romantic) may not be the best. Despite this, I was rooting so hard for her when she decided to stick around Philadelphia and attempt to relate to a kid that she doesn’t know, but nonetheless shares a unique bond with. There is really nothing maternal about Skye, and she makes it clear to Vicky that she can’t be her mom, but that’s why it’s such a joy (and sometimes very hilarious) to watch her learn how to relate to Vicky as an older cousin/aunt/friend/egg donor while also re-examining (and not always liking what she sees) all of her relationships, from her oldest friendships to her fragile relationship with her mom and sometimes contentious connection with her brother.

One thing that I really enjoyed was how well McKenzie brings the Philadelphia setting to life. She writes about the neighborhoods that Skye and Vicky haunt with such loving, affectionate detail, and she details how dizzying Skye finds it when beloved landmarks get lost to gentrification. I’ve never spent much time in Philadelphia, but the setting felt so real it made me want to visit right away. McKenzie also touches upon issues of police violence and the implication of gentrification beyond losing beloved bars and shops and how these things affect the day-to-day lives of the characters. It provides moments of growth as Skye realizes that Vicky isn’t just a cool little friend she hangs out with but someone she begins to feel a responsibility for, and for the first time in her life, that responsibility can be a positive thing. The longer Skye stays in Philadelphia, connecting with Vicky and crushing on her aunt, the more Skye has to face that she has deep connections to her hometown, and jetting off to Brazil or adding another stamp to her passport isn’t a fix when things get tough. McKenzie balances the serious with the humor so well, and I inhaled this delightful book in about two days.

Raine is a traveling musician who makes her living by playing at street corners and parks, in pubs and under monuments. She gave up holding down a “real” job, and now she travels across Europe wherever she wants, not having to worry that her ADHD will get her fired. But when her beloved guitar is stolen in Cobh, Ireland, Raine is facing the very real prospect of having to return home to Boston, defeated. Until she lands in a pub called The Local and meets a very hot tattooed man named Jack. When she confesses that The Local is rather lacking in character, Jack reveals that he owns it…and then offers her a job. As Raine is tasked with making The Local a destination, Jack can’t help but fall in love with her, even as he worries that his OCD might get in the way of a happy ending.

I had never read a Sarah Grunder Ruiz romance before, and this one is a companion to her previous novels (Luck and Last Resorts; Love, Lists, and Many Ships), but you don’t need to have read those in order to enjoy this one. I really loved the wonderful banter between Raine and Jack, which kicks off at the very beginning and doesn’t let up. This is a fantastic romance about falling in love while mentally ill and neurodivergent, and it’s also a great example of a romance where the love interests have great chemistry, are super into each other, and don’t have a big, extravagant miscommunication or external force keeping them apart…which I think is actually more difficult to pull off, but Ruiz does exactly that. Raine has ADHD, which she fears makes her annoying and unreliable, especially as she sometimes struggles with time management and doesn’t want to let Jack down. Jack has OCD, and while he’s been in therapy in the past, he’s struggling with intrusive thoughts that make taking a chance on love scary, and he feels because he is unable to do the things that he used to do—notably, work as a tattoo artist and travel.

As the story unfolds and Raine works at transforming the bar into a place that locals and tourists will love, she has to grapple with the idea of putting down roots while also fearing that she’ll disappoint Jack, and Jack worries that his OCD will hold them both back. But as they work through their fears and skewed perceptions, their love only grows, and they realize that the only thing standing in the way of giving it a shot is themselves. As an added bonus, the setting felt warm and inviting, so much so that I am a bit sad that The Local isn’t a place I can visit IRL, and there is a very, very cute cat character that I adored. This might be my first Ruiz romance, but it won’t be my last!

Set in an alternate 1930s Mississippi where magic is possible but restricted so only the most privileged may wield it, this book follows six young women determined to change their fates. Magic may technically be off-limits to many, but that doesn’t stop illegal broom racing from occurring beyond the reaches of the law, where the payout can be life-changing. Billie Mae and Loretta head a team, hoping to win enough so that they can move out west, where Black folks don’t have as many restrictions. Cheng-Kwan also wants to save money—for the inevitable moment when her parents find out she’s a girl and disown her. Luella doesn’t have magic, not since an act of rebellion ensured her powers were sealed for good, but she doesn’t want that to happen to her cousins Emma and Mattie, which is why she introduces them to Billie Mae in the hopes that they can train to become racers too. But in the world of racing, staying on your broom isn’t the biggest challenge to overcome.

I loved this premise so much—it’s a little bit A League of Their Own, but with magic, and it is very, very queer. All of the characters are people of color and they’re all facing oppression and having to hide a piece of themselves away from the public eye, which is why racing is so important for them. It’s not just about their skills or the winnings. Racing is a community of people who are accepting and who support them, even if the competition can be fierce and the risk of exposure is constant. The creative team does such a great job balancing a large cast of characters, although the story of Mattie and Emma and the way Luella looks out for them is at the heart of this book. The art is expressive and colorful, and the racing scenes are incredibly vibrant and dynamic, making it easy to flip through the pages at breakneck speed. Even though this book is speculative, the historical setting rings true, and it doesn’t feel like such a stretch from real history. While there are no easy solutions to the serious systemic issues the girls face, this is not a depressing book. Walls and DuVall show that while oppression may be insidious, the collective power of community can prevail, even if there are no perfect endings tied in a neat bow. Ultimately, I was on the edge of my seat to see how this book would wrap up, and an epilogue of newspaper clippings and the illustrated ephemera gives readers a satisfying glimpse at life for the girls beyond the story’s conclusion.

Alison is a thirtysomething artist living a reclusive life in the small town she grew up in, painting commissions. When a wildfire nearly destroys her home and takes Alison’s life, she’s incredulous to be alive. When she discovers a strange car in her driveway with a dead woman inside, killed by the radiant heat, she’s horrified. But that horror turns into fear when she discovers her own name and address on a piece of paper with the woman. Alison can’t imagine why a stranger would be seeking her out, but when she starts her own investigation, it leads to a past she’d rather forget and a mystery she can’t ignore.

This book has all the markers of a great psychological thriller — a protagonist with a secret past, a natural disaster that forces a community to a breaking point, and lots of secrets. The writing has a literary edge that is very absorbing, and while Alison has her secrets, the writing is such that I never felt as though secrets were being kept from the reader for the sake of keeping secrets. On the surface, it feels like a thriller about paranoia, fear, and survival, but if you dig deeper, it’s a chilling account about obsession and how far one woman will go to protect herself. The environmental aspect of the story — the wildfires that affect the entire community — goes hand in hand with Alison’s story. It’s a metaphor for how something terrible and large can happen to you, and there is no ducking it: you can’t run from it, and it destroys everything in its path. The only thing to do is face the fallout and try to get ahead of it. The book weaves flashbacks and present tension well, and I genuinely wasn’t sure how it would be resolved. Overall, this was a great pick if you’re looking for a standalone Australian-set psychological thriller in the vein of Jane Harper!

Kerry and Annie are best friends, bonded by their love of feminism and their mission to make the world a more welcoming place. They’re also social outcasts (Annie’s penchant for screaming about periods and vulvas may have something to do with that) who aspire to be an investigative journalist and a detective, respectively, so when a mystery about popular girl Heather’s harassing messages on Instagram turns up, Annie volunteers them for the job. This leads them to a popular crowd party, where a girl is found dead with a menstrual cup stuffed in her mouth…and that’s just the beginning of what the media dubs “the Menstrual Murders” — murders where period products are left behind on the victims. Annie is certain they can crack the case. Kerry isn’t convinced. Either way, they’re in too deep to back out now!

This was a very funny and madcap mystery that actually reminded me of the TV show Sex Education — but with murder! The closest YA book equivalent I could think of was the Trouble is a Friend of Mine series by Stephanie Tromly (also excellent), but suffice it to say, if you like shenanigans and ill-advised schemes and sweaty palms over both murder and first kisses, then this book is for you! It’s told from the point of view of Kerry, whose mom is a sex therapist, and encourages open communication, much to her frustration and occasional horror. Annie is her best friend, whom she loves dearly, even if she is always pushing them into social situations that seem a bit absurd, all in the name of improving their social standing. Kerry isn’t thrilled about being dragged into an investigation involving the popular kids in their grade, mostly because they’ve never looked at Annie and Kerry once, but she is very much into Scott, the new boy who will definitely be at their parties. Their hijinks are absurd yet endearing and even somewhat relatable (who amongst us hasn’t angsted over a new crush and done absurd things in the name of pursuing love?), and the mystery keeps them all on their toes. Kerry and Annie’s friendship is what shines throughout this book — like the protagonists of Booksmart, they are relentlessly supportive of each other, and they know their worth. Their clear-eyed view of feminism and the way they critique the patriarchy also comes across as funny and real and not a bit didactic, making this book funny and smart. 10/10 would read another crime novel starring this investigative duo!

Cara is a detective with the Anchorage Police Department, but she sets out for the isolated town of Port Mettier, AK, when body parts wash up on the shores of the sound. Her job is just to collect evidence, but she’s got an ulterior motive for this errand — her husband and son disappeared a year earlier and were later found dead, and she wants answers. Port Mettier is only accessible by one road into town or boat, and all of the town’s residents live in the Davidson Condominiums, a large apartment complex abandoned by the military in the ’60s. When a snowstorm strands Cara in Port Mettier, she soon finds that dark secrets lurk in this small town, especially when all its residents live under one roof.

If you want an intriguing mystery with a thought-provoking setup and vibes for days, then this book is it! The setting of Port Mettier is based on a real town in Alaska. Whittier and Yamashita do an excellent job at building a really interesting setting populated with eccentric and interesting characters. Despite how interesting it is and how much it made me want to go there, there is a claustrophobic feeling that permeates the book, which just adds to the tension. The book is mainly told from Cara’s point of view, and she is arguably the protagonist, but we also get interludes from other residents of Port Mettier, all of whom have their own secrets and reasons for living in such a secluded and remote area. (None are from the killer’s perspective, though! I know some readers don’t love that.) Cara’s investigation ties into her own personal anguish, making the stakes higher at every turn, and there are some really riveting and dangerous scenes that underscore the risk people take by living so far away from easy access to hospitals and central communication hubs. While the mystery isn’t the most complex I’ve ever read, the questions raised and the unique setting kept me turning the pages. This book does have a good resolution to the central mystery, but it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger for Cara — so don’t miss the sequel, Village in the Dark, which is out the first week of February!

Berlin, Cameron, and Jessie all work at Pink Mountain Pizza, a popular indie pizza spot in their small Canadian town. It’s the dead of winter, and Berlin is teetering on the edge of her depression. Her best friend stopped talking to her weeks ago and won’t explain why. Cameron is grieving the disappearance of his cousin and trying to keep his family together. Jessie comes from the richest family in town, but she is desperately trying to escape their suffocating grasp and strike out on her own. Two things happen to throw their worlds into turmoil: first, Berlin thinks she spots Cameron’s missing cousin one night working the late shift. Second, the news that Pink Mountain Pizza is being sold to Jessie’s father becomes public. Over the course of one very tumultuous week, Berlin, Cameron, and Jessie must contend with these upsets, all while making tentative steps toward friendship.

Oh my gosh, this novel — I wasn’t sure quite what to expect going in, but it ended up totally capturing my heart. This is a book with three point of view characters, although we spend the most time in Berlin’s head, so she really feels like the anchor of this book. Her heartbreak and confusion over losing her friend are palpable, and she doesn’t have an outlet for all that hurt and frustration, so she takes it out on Cameron, whom she’s known forever but isn’t exactly friends with.

Cameron is a character who laughs at everything because if he doesn’t laugh, he’ll probably cry. Money is tight at home, his parents are largely absent, and he’s doing his best to hold it all together for his younger sisters while grieving the loss of his cousin and privately raging at a world that gives up on missing Indigenous teen girls.

Cameron and Berlin clash spectacularly, and then Jessie comes in to shake things up a bit. As the daughter of the man trying to buy their pizza joint, she understands that her presence is awkward, but she’s making an earnest effort to go to a trade school and make her own life, something her parents don’t understand or condone. She sometimes makes reckless choices, but she has a heart of gold.

Sometimes, the plot feels a bit meandering, but that’s okay — I was so drawn in by the characters and their day-to-day lives and struggles and their passion for Pink Mountain Pizza. The book has a slow burn build, and it confronts some dark themes, but the ending is ultimately hopeful and inspiring and reminds readers of what can be accomplished with a community that cares for one another.

Most kids wouldn’t be thrilled to move to a National Quiet Zone, where internet, radio, and microwaves are banned…but seventh-grader Simon is more than okay with his family’s move. No internet means that he can start over at his new school and not worry about his new classmates googling him and discovering that he’s pretty well known—as the only kid in his fifth-grade class to survive a school shooting. Grin and Bear It, Nebraska, is certainly a unique place, and Simon finds himself making two new friends and weathering the challenges of a new home while keeping a big secret. But even in a place where there’s no internet, the past will inevitably catch up with him.

This is the funniest book about the aftermath of a traumatic book you’ll ever read. Simon has an upbeat, lightly sarcastic personality, and he can tell a good story. He uses this humor to deflect attention and as a coping mechanism when life gets tough. At the beginning of the story, he doesn’t really reveal what he endured two years earlier, but readers will pick up on the clues he drops, especially based on his phobias and fears. The friendships he makes, particularly with a girl named Agate, are really lovely. Agate doesn’t fully understand what Simon is going through, but her sensitivity and kindness prove invaluable, especially when she hooks him up with a golden retriever puppy to foster as part of his service dog training. (Don’t worry, nothing happens to the dog!)

I also really loved the relationship between Simon and his parents. His dad is a deacon and musician and tries to be sensitive to Simon’s needs. His mom is a funeral director and mortician, and she has a slightly dark sense of humor but is fiercely protective. Simon very much feels like the school shooting is a tragedy that happened to him, but as Bow demonstrates, this sort of crime affects an entire family, and his parents are doing their best to hold them all together. As Simon processes his trauma and learns how to deal with unexpected curveballs (including tornado sirens, a very mean peacock, a plan to fake an alien message, and a lot of emus), they’re with him every step of the way. This book broke my heart and made me cry, but it also made me laugh aloud, and I was rooting for Simon every step of the way.