i am so glad that i nosedived into this book without knowing the slightest thing about it. at first, i thought of it as a murder mystery in which a gorgeous blonde dealt with her incompetent husbands in quite a... permanent manner, if you get what i mean. what i unearthed was a hundred times better than the generic plot i had cooked up in my mind. a woman who was equipped with her own set of struggles, how she faced her adversaries head-on, and made a place for herself as a celebrity — but unfortunately at the cost of the oversexualisation of her body. in the search of true love, she married a handsome, successful co-actor, who turned out to be... well, just like any other man. yikes. amid her train of divorces and marriages was celia, namely her "rival", with a fresh, girl-next-door face that sored to fame quickly. but as it turned out, celia and evelyn were not anywhere close to competitors. they were lovers, through and through. behind the curtains, they had their own relationship, their own, tender life that sought safety from the criticisms of society. and under the guise of evelyn's lavender marriage with harry, the couple spent the remaining days of together, in complete, utter secrecy, until eveylyn hugo, old and ready to depart from the hollow ache caused by celia's demise, succumbed to death, leaving behind a biography that, for once and for all, unveiled the hidden chambers of her heart. a tear-jerking, warm story revolving around the lgbtq+ community. it will always, always stay close to my heart.

the trope "enemies-to-tovers" often leaves a numbing aftertaste when it comes to romance, because it is almost never done right. key word: almost. holly black is one of the very few authors who has not only portrayed the animosity between her two leads with absolute perfection, but also made their love feel sickeningly natural. a love that borders obsession, the initial acknowledgement of which makes a person want to wretch their guts out, and the begrudging acceptance of which does not ease their tendency to hold their beloved at the edge of a knife — that is what one refers to "enemies-to-lovers", and it is effortlessly mastered by holly black in the trilogy. the romance between cardan and jude grows at an agonising pace, as is preferred when a couple starts off as foes. the author did not substitute the term "enemies" for "rivals" or "mild annoyance". this alone earned the series a massive thumbs-up from me. of course, it is not primarily a story about affection and slow-burn (which is precisely why it is well-done). it interweaves political play, twisted family dynamics, and a whole lot of fantasy jargon. it does get a little boring at times, and involves certain scenes that may make you squirm with the sheer amount of second-hand embarrassment laced into them. i almost did not finish the cruel prince after getting hit by a certain chapter, but i'm glad that i pushed through, because the ending as well as the other books in the series were truly worth the experience. just a suggestion: please read "letters to jude from cardan" after finishing "the wicked king". it is readily available online and it makes the third part infinitely more beautiful.

when i say that i love fantasy fiction with just a pinch of romance on the side, i am setting the six of crows duology as the standard. descriptive when it needs to be, fast-paced when dialogues are involved — a perfect cocktail of both. yes, the 'crows' are six, as revealed by the title itself. yes, we see their points of view throughout the book. yes, we inevitably fall in love with every single one of them. i cannot even fathom how leigh managed to mould not one, not two, but SIX major characters into utter perfection. it takes innate skill to make the readers bare their souls to multiple fictional beings at once. the bloody contraption in my chest will always house kaz, inej, nina, jesper, wylan, and matthias. -0.5 because they snatched my beloved in the crooked kingdom. sighs.

there are books, and then there are absolute masterpieces that change your entire perspective on life, on romance, on the mundane. the song of achilles falls in the latter category. madeline's prose kept me captured throughout every description, tedious or not. the sole book to have ever made me weep and sigh and chuckle and feel. never shall i forget what it truly felt like to read every word for the first time, and never shall a piece of work come into existence that can rival its allure. 5 stars aren't enough. i need to pluck 5 nebulous, celestial bodies from the heavens themselves and attach them to its front page. then, perhaps, i might be doing it justice.