Better late than never, I say! The past few weeks have been busy—equal parts work, health concerns, and things I can't talk about just yet (but look forward to talking about when I can). Nonetheless, five books for you, all new this month! These selections run the gamut from high fantasy to vampire romance, from psychological thriller to Lovecraftian horror. Be sure to check them all out and support your favorite authors!

Bookish Candle: Baba Yaga's Hut is a unique, surprisingly cozy candle, blending woody scents with ember and citrus. Given the sheer amount of eldritch horror and monstrous mystery threaded through this month's selection, it feels oddly appropriate. Use my link to get 20% off your purchase of this and other book lovers' candles!

Tea Pairing: Chapters Tea & Co. is currently continuing their move to the West Coast, with their new return date scheduled for late April. In the meantime, check out the Teatime Adventures collab teas from Friday Afternoon Tea. I've been sampling these as I read through the new source books!

Bethany Sylvana is a young seamstress with a dream: she wants to become a Diviner. These highly-esteemed adepts open portals in the fabric of reality, leading charges through ancient portals. Her lack of prestige or education initially appears to work against her, but an unfair disqualification from the test is overturned by someone she hoped never to deal with: her father, the emperor.

As Bethany navigates a grueling education to achieve her dream, war is brewing. Julian, Bethany's half-brother, has had his claim to the throne called into question after a deadly duel. With the eyes of the kingdom of Everlast upon him, Julian must face his own challenges: war against a powerful queen and her equally powerful army. Meanwhile, the family of Julian's wife Samara quietly seeks to orchestrate his downfall to avenge the death of Samara's brother—though Samara herself has other ideas. As the first volume draws to a close, these three very different threads will weave themselves together into a story of fractured family and political intrigue.

I don't often say I can't put a book down because the term feels overused. But in this case, it's true: Blood and Empire is unputdownable. Bethany's journey to becoming a Diviner contains brilliant worldbuilding, hinting at a cosmos greater than even most of this setting's characters can conceive. Even in the face of political machinations, Macbethian schemes, and epic battles, her quest to fulfil her dreams—and to be recognized fairly for her talent—shines bright. It begs to be continued, and fortunately, book 2 isn't far behind.

After the death of her mother, Claire was convinced she'd never find someone to love her. But she has in the person of her fiancé, Noah Coors: a handsome, successful businessman whom she met in the most ordinary of ways. But one day he goes missing, refusing to answer her calls and texts. What starts as a casual lunch run explodes into a terrifying revelation: not only does Noah not want to see her, but he's living with (and engaged to) another woman. And has been for ages.

With the help of her friend Sukhi, Claire begins digging into the unpleasant truths of Noah's life. Her sleuthing is interspersed with diary entries of her life with Noah and reflections on the physical and emotional abuse she endured from her mother. A rash choice sends Claire's future down an unforeseen path, but the road in front of her will grant her the answers she's been looking for... both vindicating proof and a reality she could never have foreseen.

A word of warning: if you've had an abusive parent or partner, Claire, Darling will bring a lot of uncomfortable feelings and memories to the surface. This isn't a call not to read it so much as a warning to approach it when you feel capable of doing so. If anything, it's good to see a piece of fiction acknowledging the cycle of abuse and the impact that it can have on a person's ability to function as an adult. The twist in the tale at the end is well-wrought and has precedent, but the further sting at the end of the twist feels like a bridge too far. Rather than elevating the final few chapters, it feels like it dampens the effect of the book as a whole, subverting an unusually empathetic depiction of mental health and abuse for a bit of last-minute shock value. But if one ignores the final chapter, Claire, Darling is an excellent first novel for Kazumi, presenting a pointed and poignant view of the long-term effects of narcissism and abuse.

Arkham Horror series The Drowned City continues—and we move on from Lucius Galloway to April May, as she encounters her own eldritch horrors. The young journalist spends her days at the Arkham Advertiser taking ads for lost dogs, and her evenings reading Weird Tales. But there's been an uptick in lost dog ads lately. Not only that, but April and the people around her have been having strange dreams, similar enough to make psychologist Carolyn Fern sit up and take notice. She offers free support in the form of hypnosis to these dreamers... but soon twelve of them, including April's friend Nella, fall asleep and won't wake up.

Carolyn and others believe that April, with her artistic mind, holds the key to bringing these dreamers home. But April isn't too trusting of Carolyn's methods. Moreover, she's seen strange things around town: an eye symbol pops up in increasingly odd places, and soon coworkers begin to go missing. To save her friends, and to put a stop to the dark activities going on in Arkham, April will have to face her fears and travel to a world of dreams, where she and others risk being right in the eyeline of the Ancient One.

Aconyte's Arkham Horror series is always fantastic, centering characters that Lovecraft himself likely would have written off as alien horrors rather than compelling heroes. April May is a wonderful addition to the roster, delving deep into Arkham's nightmarish history as she finds her place in American society. While The Nightmare Quest of April May leaves some questions unanswered and several dark sorts active in the wider world, the story never feels rushed or truncated. It comes to a satisfying conclusion while still leaving some threads untucked, hinting at more dark activities to come.

Howard is 18 years old and looking for support in his life. His school's Queer Student Union is struggling to make their voices heard, and Howard himself has moved in with his Oma after his parents were less than accepting of his identity. As a youngster into older entertainment and aesthetics, he finds solace in his volunteer work at a retirement home. But a visit to check in on new resident James kicks off a whole new chapter of his life when Howard meets George: a young visitor who, unbeknownst to Howard, is James's eternally young vampire lover.

As George struggles to see his partner through the end of his life while hiding from James's less than understanding daughter, Howard finds acceptance with his new companion. As the two start dating, they discover their lives are more intertwined then they first realized. And the more time Howard spends with George, the more he starts to wonder if maybe the world would be better without the people blocking his ability to be himself.

On the one hand, Till Death is a compelling story of grief and loneliness—of how difficult it can be to care for a loved one when your relationship isn't even accepted by that loved one's family. James and George's story is tragic and heartfelt and beautiful. But once Howard and George get close, things get odd. On the one hand, having someone who can impart both history and support is a valuable thing. On the other, teen vampire romances are messy at the best of times, and the constant hand-waving of Howard and George's relationship because Howard is an "old soul" is far too reminiscent of real-world problems, regardless of sexuality. Considering Howard's change in personality the longer he's with George, perhaps this is intentional. Perhaps this is the story of someone making someone else worse. The result, though, is a fractured narrative: equal parts compellingly beautiful and worryingly toxic.

Helen Lingate has long desired an escape from her controlling, old-money family. Her mother Sarah, an accomplished playwright, died when Helen was young under mysterious circumstances. On the 30th anniversary of Sarah Lingate's passing, Helen teams up with her assistant Lorna to orchestrate a complex plan: one that will free them both from the family's grip. But in the wake of the plan, Lorna herself goes missing under a new set of mysterious circumstances.

A multifaceted, multigenerational mystery unfolds against the backdrop of Capri, bringing in a variety of points of view: Helen herself, Lorna in the hours leading up to her disappearance, Sarah in the weeks and months before her untimely demise, and other players throughout the Lingate family. At the center of it all are a duffel bag full of money, a snakelike necklace of Sarah's thought to be lost, and Saltwater: Sarah's unproduced final play that could air all of the Lingates' dirty laundry. As Helen explores two disappearances at once, she discovers that pretty much nothing is as she originally believed.

Saltwater aims high and exceeds expectations, succeeding where so many thrillers of its kind have fallen short. Every little thread, from Helen's love interest to Lorna's background to the movements of housekeeper Renata, are ultimately woven back into the the overall story in a meaningful way. Hays doesn't make the mistake of showing her hand too early; but when the time does come to play it, she does so to full effect. The twists and turns are surprising without being untethered, stretching even on to the final page. There are no two ways around this: Saltwater is simply an excellent book.