February turned out to be a somewhat more difficult reading month. Not so much because I didn’t read much, but mainly because several books I had chosen with fairly positive expectations ended up being more disappointing than enjoyable. As a result, I found myself deciding not to finish books quite often this month, sometimes even after I had already read a considerable number of pages.

With my gigantic TBR, that might not actually be such a bad thing. I’m realising that I need to get better at recognising which books truly suit me, and especially at admitting more quickly when a book simply doesn’t. Sometimes because it just isn’t very good, but sometimes also because my taste has changed, or because a story simply doesn’t manage to hold my interest enough. That little voice that always wants to force me to finish something I’ve started can therefore stand to be a bit quieter now and then, especially when it concerns something relatively trivial, in the grand scheme of things, like whether or not I finish a book.

But enough reflection, on to the numbers for February.

In the end, I finished 5 books this month, good for 2120 pages. The average February book therefore comes to 424 pages per book.

That said, there were also a number of books I decided to abandon this month. February counts 3 DNF’s, in which I still read a combined 475 pages. I don’t rate DNFs, but even the books I did finish were honestly not real standouts. Only two books received four stars, while the remaining titles stayed at a fairly average three stars. This brings the average rating for the books I finished in February to 3.4 stars.

In terms of target audience there wasn’t much variation this month: every book I picked up was intended for an adult readership, making 8 adult books in total if I also include the DNFs.

I did vary my reading format, though. I read two books as e-books, two entirely as audiobooks, and one partly in print and partly as an audiobook. In addition, several titles once again came from my own collection, with 3 bookshelf books in total. Unfortunately, those were precisely the books I didn’t end up finishing!

There was also some variety in genres, with 4 different genres: thriller (1), romance (1), mystery (1) and fantasy (5). All the books I picked up this month were read or listened to in English.

Below you’ll find the list of books I read in February, together with my star ratings.
Click on the link to jump to the blurb and my review! As always, please keep in mind that both blurbs and reviews may contain spoilers, especially when it concerns later instalments in a series. Sometimes I hide spoilers behind collapsible or blacked-out text.

1. Zhao, Amélie Wen – The Scorpion and the Night Blossom (The Three Realms Duology #1) (DNF)
2. Wijesekara, Maithree – The Prince Without Sorrow (Obsidian Throne #1) (DNF)
3. Abercrombie, Joe – The Devils (The Devils #1) 🎧 ★★★
4. Pearson, Mary E. – The Courting of Bristol Keats (The Courting of Bristol Keats #1) (DNF)
5. Hazelwood, Ali – The Love Hypothesis ★★★★
6. Hallet, Janice – The Killer Question ★★★
7. Marske, Freya – A Marvellous Light (The Last Binding #1) ★★★
8. Marrs, John – When You Disappeared 🎧 ★★★★

Zhao, Amélie Wen – The Scorpion and the Night Blossom (The Three Realms Duology #1) (DNF)

Genre: Fantasy

I decided to DNF The Serpent and the Night Blossom after chapter 11 (around 40%), which is a little heartbreaking, because this book actually started out very strong for me. The opening was immersive, easy to sink into, and I genuinely enjoyed Amélie Wen Zhao’s writing style, even if it could be a bit repetitive at times. The dramatic, C-drama-inspired atmosphere – complete with flowing robes, exaggerated emotions, and gravity-defying action – was fun, theatrical, and exactly what the dedication promised.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, small annoyances started to pile up until I couldn’t ignore them anymore. The biggest turning point for me was Àn’yīng’s extreme reaction to a reveal about Yù’chén. Despite him having helped and saved her repeatedly, her sudden cruelty and disgust towards him felt wildly disproportionate and deeply uncomfortable to read. While her hatred is rooted in real trauma, the way it was expressed here crossed a line for me and made it difficult to stay emotionally invested.

From that point on, I became increasingly aware of other issues: the very formulaic and trope-heavy plot, the excessive repetition, a strangely one-dimensional bully subplot, and the fact that many of Àn’yīng’s successes seemed handed to her rather than earned. What had initially felt like a fun, dramatic romantasy slowly started to feel predictable and frustrating.

I’ve learned from experience that once a book reaches this “everything annoys me now” stage, it rarely recovers. While part of me is curious about how the story unfolds, I know I won’t be able to fully enjoy it anymore. The Serpent and the Night Blossom has a lot going for it and will probably work very well for readers who love dramatic, trope-filled romantasy, but sadly, it just stopped working for me.

Wijesekara, Maithree – The Prince Without Sorrow (Obsidian Throne #1) (DNF)

Genre: Fantasy

I decided to DNF The Prince Without Sorrow at around 50%, which is something I usually avoid doing so far into a book. However, lately I’ve been trying to listen more to my actual reading experience instead of forcing myself to finish out of habit, and in this case, continuing simply didn’t feel worthwhile. By that point, my brain had already moved on, and I realised I was no longer reading out of curiosity or excitement, but purely out of obligation.

There is nothing actively “wrong” with this book. The premise is intriguing, the writing is easy to follow, and there are many interesting ideas woven into the world: political intrigue, magical creatures, and mysterious powers. Unfortunately, none of it ever truly came together for me. The pacing felt flat and overly convenient, with obstacles being resolved and questions being answered almost as soon as they appeared. The plot unfolded in a very linear, predictable way, and I never felt any urgency to keep reading.

Most of all, I struggled to connect to the characters. Despite being halfway through the story, they still felt surface-level and one-dimensional, and I felt little emotional investment in their journeys. Both main characters are framed as pacifists, yet their actions often contradict this, which further weakened their credibility for me. While marketed as adult fantasy, the tone and characterisation leaned more toward YA, making the story feel less mature than I had hoped.

By the halfway point, I realised I was reading purely to be able to say I had finished, not because I was genuinely interested. That’s never a good sign. Although I feel bad DNF’ing a debut novel, I ultimately decided that protecting my reading joy matters more than completion. Choosing joy over obligation is something I’m actively working on, and in this case, letting this book go felt like the right choice.

🎧 Abercrombie, Joe – The Devils (The Devils #1) ★★★

Genre: Fantasy

“To win a war, one must, sometimes, make use of the weapons of one’s enemies. To fight fire, one must be prepared to use fire.”

The Devils is Joe Abercrombie through and through: sharp, cynical, chaotic, and filled with strong character studies. Having read most of his First Law books, it wasn’t difficult to recognise his voice, his structure, and even some of his familiar narrative tricks.

On a surface level, the plot promises a fun and original adventure. In practice, however, it often felt repetitive and somewhat aimless. The recurring pattern of starting a journey, meeting a cousin, fighting a huge battle, winning, and starting all over again strongly reminded me of some of Abercrombie’s earlier work, particularly Best Served Cold. As a result, much of the story became predictable, especially if you’re already familiar with his style.

That familiarity also influenced my overall reading experience. My rating hovers somewhere between three and four stars, leaning more towards three. On the one hand, I genuinely enjoyed listening to this. On the other, I never felt fully absorbed. It was pleasant and entertaining, but also quite long-winded, and I was rarely in a hurry to continue. Part of that comes from already knowing what to expect: Abercrombie clearly has his favourite techniques, and he isn’t afraid to reuse them.

I’m also fairly sure I wouldn’t have picked this up at all if I hadn’t previously, somewhat against my expectations, enjoyed his books, and yes, if he weren’t such a big name. The audiobook format plays a huge role in that. His stories are gritty, often bleak, and don’t shy away from ugliness or gore. If I had read this in print, I probably wouldn’t have finished it. In audio, however, the crude, offensive, and sometimes over-the-top elements become oddly amusing, and much easier to tune out when they don’t quite land.

The predictability extends to the twists as well. Abercrombie himself writes:

“A good twist, once revealed, should seem obvious all along.”

Unfortunately, having read so much of his work, most twists felt obvious long before they happened.

Still, one of his greatest strengths remains intact: characterisation. Whether through his writing or the excellent narration, every character felt distinct, flawed, and utterly real. That is ultimately what kept me listening, even when my attention drifted.

All in all, The Devils sits somewhere between a solid and a good read for me. Not a favourite, but still entertaining in audio form. And if there’s ever a sequel, I’ll probably pick it up, once again, as an audiobook.

Pearson, Mary E. – The Courting of Bristol Keats (The Courting of Bristol Keats #1) (DNF)

Genre: Fantasy

Unfortunately, The Courting of Bristol Keats is another DNF for me this month. I stopped after chapter 30, at just under 30%, and it genuinely pains me to say this. I have such fond memories of Mary E. Pearson’s Remnant Chronicles that this experience even made me question how much I actually liked them.

From the start, I struggled with the writing. Structurally, it felt chaotic and fragmented, with very choppy scenes and little flow. The prose clearly wants to be poetic and beautiful, but mostly came across as vague and underdeveloped. There was a lot of telling and very little showing, and at times it felt like I was reading unedited drafts rather than a finished novel.

I even switched to the audiobook for a few chapters to see if that would help. While the narration improved the reading experience slightly, it couldn’t fix the main issue: the complete lack of context. We are thrown into this world with almost no explanation. Names, places, kingdoms, and concepts appear out of nowhere, disappear for chapters, and then suddenly return as if we’re supposed to remember them.

The story itself starts in the real world, which reminded me a little of The Cruel Prince, and wasn’t what I had expected here. There are also several plot points that made very little sense to me. Why are these mysterious letters from an unknown aunt addressed only to Bristol, when she has two sisters? Why does Bristol barely question the existence of fairies and another world? And why does her fourteen-year-old sister conveniently have all the answers in a random book in her closet, which Bristol just accepts without hesitation?

At first, I didn’t mind Bristol as a protagonist, but her lack of curiosity and critical thinking quickly became frustrating. Combined with the vague worldbuilding and confusing infodumps, I started to feel completely disconnected from the story. There is even a scene where important information is dumped on us, only to end with something like: “and that’s why we need to stop Cormick.” What?! Who is Cormick? Why should I care? That was the first time that name was mentioned.

It often felt like I was reading a companion novel to a series I had never read. As if this world and its politics were supposed to be familiar already, even though this is the first book.

Eventually, I reached a point where I just couldn’t anymore. Out of frustration, I looked up spoilers to see if the story would be worth pushing through. I discovered and watched Tabitha Gabrielle’s video about the book, which confirmed my decision: this wasn’t going to improve enough for me to continue.

This DNF makes me genuinely sad, because I used to enjoy this author’s work. I still have the Vow of Thieves duology on my TBR, but I’m honestly a bit hesitant now. Hopefully, this book is just a mismatch for me rather than a sign that I’ve outgrown her writing.

Hazelwood, Ali – The Love Hypothesis ★★★★

Genre: Romantiek

After three unexpected DNFs in February, I desperately needed a palate cleanser. I wanted something easy, familiar, and comforting, so I decided to do a reread. In the end, I picked The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood. Partly because it’s a contemporary romance, a complete change from everything else I had been trying to read this month, and partly because I was curious. When I read Love on the Brain two years ago, I was surprised by how much I loved it, while I remembered not enjoying The Love Hypothesis nearly as much. It made me wonder how much timing and mindset influence reading enjoyment.

When I first read this book, I only gave it two stars. Looking back, I think I went into it with the wrong expectations and the wrong attitude. This time, I knew exactly what I was getting: a tropey, swoony romance that isn’t trying to be groundbreaking. And once I embraced that, I had a genuinely great time.

Honestly, I must have been in a very grumpy or overly critical mood during my first read, because I genuinely don’t understand that low rating anymore. This reread was so much fun. For the first time this month, I never felt bored, frustrated, or tempted to DNF. I didn’t question my patience, my standards, or myself as a reader. I simply enjoyed the story.

Is this high literature? Of course not. Is it predictable and cliché? Absolutely. But isn’t that true for most romance novels, and isn’t that also part of the appeal? We read them for the swoon, the drama, the ridiculous situations, and the guaranteed happy ending. After so many DNFs, that was exactly what I needed.

This reread reminded me of two important things. First, timing matters. Sometimes a book is perfectly fine, but you’re just not in the right headspace for it. This time, The Love Hypothesis was exactly the kind of brainless entertainment I needed. Second, all those DNFs were not “proof” that I’m the problem as a reader. Being able to fully sink into this book and enjoy it, even one I had previously found mediocre, was reassuring.

My only real issue remains the ending, which still felt too abrupt. It was as if the author suddenly ran out of space and wrapped everything up too quickly. I wanted more meaningful conversations between Adam and Olive, more emotional resolution, and less rushed decision-making. Olive’s sudden change of mindset, while not illogical, didn’t quite match her earlier overthinking and need for reassurance.

Still, the fact that I wanted more time with these characters is also a positive sign. It shows how invested I became this time around.

All in all, this reread turned out to be exactly what I needed. What was once a two-star read is now a comfortable four-star. Proof that sometimes, it’s not the book that changes, but the reader.

Hallet, Janice – The Killer Question ★★★

Genre: Mysterie

The Killer Question continues her trademark format of telling a story entirely through emails, messages, and transcripts. It’s a style I’ve genuinely loved in the past, and one I still find compelling in theory. There is something fascinating about watching a mystery unfold through fragments of communication, even if it requires a fair bit of suspension of disbelief.

That said, I’m starting to wonder if the novelty of this format has worn off for me. While I still enjoy Hallett’s concepts and setups, her recent books, including The Examiner and now The Killer Question, haven’t fully worked for me. This one did appeal slightly more because of its pub trivia setting, which I found more engaging than an art school, but the story itself felt overly long and unnecessarily complicated.

While the set-up of the mystery and the build-up aimed at making the story into a true crime documentary were promising and intriguing in the beginning, it quickly loses momentum as it becomes weighed down by excess. There are simply too many characters, side plots, and red herrings. Large portions of the book are taken up by mundane conversations that don’t meaningfully develop the characters or move the plot forward. Many messages felt pointless, and over time, I started to lose interest in where the story was going.

That said, I’m still impressed by how everything came together in the end. Hallett clearly knows how to construct a puzzle. Unfortunately, the resolution felt rushed, especially considering how long the build-up was. After hundreds of pages, the “why” and “how” are wrapped up very quickly and not entirely satisfactory.

Overall, this wasn’t a bad read, but it was too long, too crowded, and never fully grabbed me.

Marske, Freya – A Marvellous Light (The Last Binding #1) ★★★

Genre: Fantasy

A Marvellous Light ended up being a book I appreciated more for what it wanted to do than for what it actually did. From the start, it was very different from what I expected. It read much slower than anticipated, and I struggled to fully settle into the writing. Throughout the whole reading experience, I kept finding it difficult to feel truly engrossed. I still can’t quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was a lack of atmosphere, fluidity, or consistent pacing, but something never fully clicked.

That said, there is a lot here that I genuinely liked. The Edwardian setting is interesting, and I enjoyed being introduced to the magical society through Robin’s point of view. Both main characters feel emotionally believable: Robin with his stiff-upper-lip attitude and his attempts to hide the effects of the curse, and Edwin with his reserve, shaped by a lifetime of being belittled by his own family. Their need to hide their sexuality in this society also adds an authentic layer. However, I didn’t find Edwin’s and Robin’s narrative voices clearly distinguishable. At times, I had to flip back a page or two to figure out whose perspective I was in, which slightly disrupted my reading flow.

I also appreciated the mystery element and the gradual uncovering of deeper lore, which clearly sets up the wider series. The magic system, especially the cradling and land-magic aspects, is intriguing, even if it felt underdeveloped in execution.

Unfortunately, many of these good ideas never fully came together for me. I never felt real suspense, and outside of Edwin and Robin, most side characters felt flat, cartoonish, or reduced to a few cliché traits.

My biggest disappointment, however, was the romance. While I liked both characters individually and believed in their emotional struggles, I never felt genuine chemistry between them. For a slow burn romance, that connection is essential, and it simply wasn’t there for me. I could never clearly see why they were drawn to each other or what they truly had in common, apart from their shared sexuality. When their relationship suddenly became physical, it honestly felt rushed and awkward to me.

Overall, I mostly remained emotionally disconnected from both the characters and the plot. I was always just reading words on a page and never felt swept away or grounded in the story. In the end, the book felt full of promising ideas that were lacking in execution. It tries to balance historical fantasy, mystery, and romance, but never fully succeeds in any of them. I didn’t dislike this book. It just wasn’t what I expected or what I wanted, and it never managed to fully pull me in.

🎧 Marrs, John – When You Disappeared ★★★★

Genre: Thriller

When You Disappeared was an incredibly compelling audiobook experience, with excellent narration and a gripping, steadily building sense of tension. The story unfolds through alternating perspectives, moving between the day Simon disappeared and the present, twenty-five years later, as both he and Catherine recount what really happened. This structure works beautifully, turning the novel into a slow, absorbing unraveling of the truth.

One of the book’s greatest strengths is its character work. Simon is deeply unlikeable: selfish, reckless, and constantly justifying his cruel choices. Yet his portrayal is so convincing that I found myself fascinated by him, even while strongly disliking him. Catherine, on the other hand, is a powerful counterpoint. Her grief and despair are portrayed honestly, but so is her resilience. Watching her rebuild her life for herself and her children was very moving.

The story is well plotted and full of twists, and while it occasionally leans on coincidence, it never crossed into unbelievable territory for me. The pacing is slow at times, but that slowness adds depth and emotional weight. Throughout, I felt the same anticipation as Catherine, waiting for answers and bracing myself for what they would mean.

My only real reservation is the ending. While the emotional payoff is strong, I would have liked to see more of how the wider community reacted once everything was revealed. Still, this remains a tense, disturbing, and expertly told psychological thriller that kept me hooked from start to finish.