Rogue Protocol is yet another reminder that Murderbot can insist all it wants that it doesn’t have human feelings… while very clearly being deeply in its feelings. There were moments where it felt genuinely confused and emotionally overwhelmed in a way that honestly reminded me of a teenage boy trying to pretend he doesn’t care, while caring too much.

These novellas are so short, but they hit hard. The story feels fast, tight, and almost breathless, yet at the same time it carries real emotional weight. It’s action-heavy and sharp, but also surprisingly emotional in the best way. Martha Wells is incredibly good at packing humour, tension, and vulnerability into such a small space.

I love this series. Murderbot’s voice, the corporate dystopia, the reluctant connections, it all works for me every time. I’m so glad this was my first read of the year, and it’s set the bar high. I can’t wait to keep going.

Review: The Nearest by Greg Egan

The Nearest was my first introduction to Greg Egan’s writing, and while science heavy speculative fiction isn’t usually my go-to genre, I found this short story unexpectedly absorbing. Rather than relying on action, the story draws its power from a single, unsettling idea and the quiet way its implications impact the characters.

Egan’s approach feels deliberate and restrained. He provides just enough context to make the central concept understandable without explaining it away, allowing a sense of unease to linger well after the end of the story. The focus is less on traditional, emotionally driven character arcs and more on how humans respond when confronted with realities that challenge their assumptions about space, proximity, and understanding.

What I appreciated most was the story’s willingness to sit with ambiguity. It doesn’t rush to offer comfort or resolution, instead left me to reflect on ideas that are fascinating precisely because they remain unsettling.

It’s left me curious and I’m looking forward to reading more.

The Mushroom Tapes is a work of literary true crime that feels genuinely unlike anything else I’ve read in the genre. Rather than attempting to reconstruct events in a definitive or chronological way, the book centres around recorded conversations, observations, and reflections connected to the deaths that followed the famous Beef Wellington lunch at Erin Patterson’s house.

What struck me most was the book’s commitment to listening rather than explaining. Through transcripts of the authors discussions and restrained commentary. Instead of guiding the reader toward answers, the book asks us to remain inside uncertainty, which left me uncomfortable. Something a crime like this should.

Helen Garner’s influence is unmistakable, and as someone who counts her among my favourite writers, that presence was deeply satisfying. I found myself stopping often to underline and write down lines, sentences that are deceptively simple but emotionally precise. The prose is spare and observant, attentive to tone and implication, and deeply resistant to sensationalism.

The book also offered a perspective on Erin Patterson that felt distinctive. Rather than clarifying or resolving my curiosity, it complicated it.

Ultimately, The Mushroom Tapes reads less like an investigation and more like a meditation, on attention, on narrative, and on the ethical boundaries of true crime. It is quiet, unsettling, and engaging, and it lingers because it does not attempt to provide closure.

Heated Rivalry is smart, sexy, emotionally grounded, and shockingly tender. Shane and Ilya are precious, feral little idiots who should be protected at all costs, and I adored every second of being in their universe.

What elevates this book is the character development. Watching Shane and Ilya grow, individually and together feels organic and earned. Their evolution isn’t rushed or performative; it unfolds through small, intentional moments that quietly reshape how they see themselves, each other, and the world around them. Every choice they make feels deliberate, layered with history, fear, longing, and affection.

The relationship itself feels remarkably real. It’s messy, funny, vulnerable, and human. The push and pull, the miscommunication, the tenderness hidden under bravado, it all rings true. This isn’t just a rivals-to-lovers romance; it’s a story about trust built slowly, about intimacy that grows in stolen moments and shared understanding.

I also loved how intentional the book is about its themes, identity, queerness in professional sports, and emotional safety. Nothing feels incidental. Even the humor and banter serve the deeper emotional arc, making the payoff hit you in the feels.

The hype is absolutely valid. Full stop.

Sensational, heartfelt, and unforgettable. Heated Rivalry is the kind of romance that will linger with me, and Shane and Ilya will live in my head rent-free forever