Welcome back!
There are a couple fantasy romances and two non-fiction titles this time. Also coincidentally (or perhaps not), a lot of recs that came across my feed in the past two weeks are from queer authors or feature queer characters.
Any recommendations you’d like to share? Drop them in the comments!
It Came from the Closet
One of my friends recently read and loved this. Apparently, Carrie reviewed this almost three years ago and gave it a B+. If you’re prioritizing queer books this month, consider this one!
Through the lens of horror—from Halloween to Hereditary—queer and trans writers consider the films that deepened, amplified, and illuminated their own experiences.
Horror movies hold a complicated space in the hearts of the queer community: historically misogynist, and often homo- and transphobic, the genre has also been inadvertently feminist and open to subversive readings. Common tropes—such as the circumspect and resilient “final girl,” body possession, costumed villains, secret identities, and things that lurk in the closet—spark moments of eerie familiarity and affective connection. Still, viewers often remain tasked with reading themselves into beloved films, seeking out characters and set pieces that speak to, mirror, and parallel the unique ways queerness encounters the world.
It Came from the Closet features twenty-five essays by writers speaking to this relationship, through connections both empowering and oppressive. From Carmen Maria Machado on Jennifer’s Body, Jude Ellison S. Doyle on In My Skin, Addie Tsai on Dead Ringers, and many more, these conversations convey the rich reciprocity between queerness and horror.
Letters from the Last Apothecary
Shoutout to LittyN in the comments for this recommendation because it sounds like something of interest to the Bitchery.
EMILY WILDE meets DIVINE RIVALS in this debut cozy historical romantic fantasy about a grumpy apothecarist, the whirlwind woman who comes to save his shop, and the letters that secretly unite them. You’ve Got Mail with a magical twist!
Nestled between steel skyscrapers lies a small shop stocked with old magic and experimental elixirs. This cozy historical romantic fantasy debut is a tale of mistaken identity, reluctant partnership, and the quiet, transformative magic of being truly seen—on and off the page.
Josephine Pinova doesn’t believe in fate. Yet, it must be fate when she walks into one of the last magical apothecaries in the city and they offer her a job after she’s just been fired.
Struggling against a tide of anti-magic sentiment amidst the city’s rapid industrialization, the shop is slated to close in six short months unless Josie can save it. Luckily, she’s no stranger to impossible odd—she’s applying to study magic at the local university, something women are typically excluded from—even as the shop’s prickly apothecarist, Aufidius Reid, seems determined to dislike her.
Reid finds her unbearably insistent. She finds him infuriatingly uptight—nothing like the sensitive scholar Josie has been exchanging anonymous letters with as they study together for entrance to a graduate magic program. A scholar who just so happens to be Reid himself, unbeknownst to either of them.
Letter by letter, they fall in love. But at work, Josie and Reid clash constantly about the direction of the business. As pressure rises, they discover the threat to the shop is more dangerous than they could have ever imagined, and working together to save it might be their only chance at true purpose, and at each other.
Nemesis Mine
An opposites attract, M/M fantasy romance with a fake rivalry. I can think of a lot of you who may want to add this to your TBR pile.
A not-so-evil villain strikes a deal with a not-quite-perfect hero to fake a feud, boost their reputations . . . and try not to fall in love in the process—in this hilarious, tender, sexy, and outrageously fun romp that blends the humor of Assistant to the Villain with the unforgettable romance of Red, White, & Royal Blue and the cozy fantasy vibes of Legends & Lattes.
Fake nemeses. It’s a dastardly plan that can’t go wrong… until love crashes the act.
Nobody is more surprised than Cyrus to learn that he’s no longer considered the greatest villain in the land of Athaca. Sure, he’s lying about the fact that his magical power is making flowers grow. And maybe lately he’s spent more time embroidering pillowcases than tormenting the locals. But that doesn’t mean he’s ready to be yesterday’s evil news.
Enter the hero Maximillian: the realm’s golden boy, complete with a blinding smile, chiseled abs, and an infuriating habit of spreading hope and joy. (Gross.) If Cyrus wants to be taken seriously, he’ll have to take this guy down.
But Maximillian isn’t quite as perfect as he seems. When he proposes a scheme to fake an epic rivalry and increase their fame, Cyrus can’t resist. Stage the battles, soak up the spotlight, share the spoils—it’s a villainously good marketing plan.
There’s just one hitch. Pretending to hate your nemesis becomes a lot harder when you start falling for them instead.
Spawning Season
Given my life changes right now, I’ve been getting a lot of parenthood memoirs in my algorithm and this one keeps popping up. It was also blurbed by the amazing Chanda Prescod-Weinstein.
From the author of National Book Critics Circle Award and Lambda Literary Award finalist VIROLOGY comes an intimate chronicle of queer family-making.
“A singular and deeply moving book. Osmundson has birthed a profound meditation on family and food, longing and loss, hope and grief, humans and salmon. In his story, we find a multitude of beautiful, complicated ways of imagining the future-and then working to build one.” –Ed Yong, Pulitzer Prize-winner and New York Times bestselling author of An Immense World
Since grade school, Joseph Osmundson dreamed of being pregnant. As he grew into the queer scientist he is today, the economic precarity of academia and the warming planet led to his decision not to reproduce. That is, until a lesbian couple he had known since college came to him with a would Joe be a bio-dad and would he co-parent alongside them?
Soon everything was falling into place. But when the two partners communicated their need for a child to reflect their own racial backgrounds, Joe’s whiteness exposed fault lines in their parenting journey. Spawning Season is a genre-bending memoir that treats the scientific as integral to the personal and that builds an entire species of the grief we carry in our bodies. In exploratory prose that builds on the work of Donna Haraway and José Esteban Muñoz, Osmundson considers the ethics of child-rearing in the 21st century, the brutal wonder of caregiving, and the joys and intricacies of building family beyond biology.
