After the mildly awful flop that was Sisters Red, Jackson Pearce redeems herself with a book that's actually worth giving a shit about. 
 It's not a masterpiece. The writing is pretty mediocre, and the characters are nothing to tweet about. I'd say that the backbone of this book's moderate success is the stellar mythology, which blows everything out of the water. Witches? Werewolves? Cakes and stuff? Sign me up! 
 The romance is a flop too, but what else did you expect. It's all rather Kimye, a little too much pretty and not quite enough actual bonding. But my expectations were at absolute rock bottom, so who cares? I wasn't even a little bit disappointed. It wasn't even fun to laugh at. It just was. 
 And, well...I guess that's it. 
 Blah.