Film Review: Cool Hand Luke (1967); Directed by Stuart Rosenberg

Film poster for Cool Hand Luke (1967); directed by Stuart Rosenberg.

“What we’ve got here is failure to communicate.”

Captain (Strother Martin)

It might just be me, but this saga of a man named Luke (Paul Newman), crushed but not deterred under the weight of a system designed to deprive him of his body, mind, and soul, is the perfect metaphor for late-stage capitalism and rising fascism in 2025. The circumstances are somewhat different, but still startlingly relevant as it concerns the prison industrial complex, police brutality, and slavery. Some people might call that last one a stretch, but what are prisons if not legal warehouses of forced labor and deprivation of liberty? If your labor creates economic value for someone who isn’t you or your family and you aren’t allowed to leave, are you not a slave? 

I mean, let’s be serious for a moment. Luke was a nonviolent offender sentenced to two years of extremely hard labor in deplorable conditions for destroying some parking meters and stealing the change out of them. And the captain and guards are given free rein to treat the incarcerated men however they see fit, up to and including executing them for trying to escape said conditions. They can even manufacture circumstances ex post facto to justify actions they take in the moment. There are no oversight or accountability mechanisms in place to discourage their violent conduct. One wonders if the wrong people are deprived of their freedom. 

The captain and guards are soldiers in the war of the death of these men’s souls. These violent men (the guards, not the inmates) derive pleasure from and revel in the control they wield over every move the inmates make. It’s sickening and morally reprehensible, but very realistic and apt, even and especially in 2025. 

The captain and guards are soldiers in the war of the death of these men’s souls.

There’s one particularly striking moment in the film where Luke’s mother (Jo Van Fleet) passes away and news of her passing reaches Luke. Rather than let him go and pay his respects to her, they lock him in a wooden shed called The Box, sentencing him to solitary confinement for no reason other than to deter his escape. Let it be noted that up until this point he had given no indication of a desire to escape.

This hot, enclosed shed is dark, dank, and reeking of shit and piss. Right before one of the guards (or bosses, as the inmates refer to them) locks him up in The Box, he says, “Sorry, Luke. I’m just doing my job. You gotta appreciate that.” And Luke responds, “Nah – calling it your job don’t make it right, boss.” 

“Nah – calling it your job don’t make it right, boss.”

Luke (Newman)

That moment hit me like lightning. So many horrific acts of cruelty have been committed by people “just doing their jobs”. Slave catchers were just doing their jobs. The cops who arrested Rosa Parks were just doing their jobs. The SS were just doing their jobs. The same for ICE agents and Republican lawmakers who craft the law in favor of the rich and powerful and punish the poor for the sin of being poor. They’re all just doing their jobs. 

One must have a moral compass, a sense of duty and responsibility to common humanity that transcends legality, convention, and organized religion. I included that last one because so many people use religion (mostly Christianity, in the context of the United States) as a pretext for depriving others of their rights and freedoms. Their moral superiority obfuscates the actual dictates of their prescribed beliefs and therefore gives them a license to ignore those dictates in favor of advancing an agenda of their own creation. They worship power, and reap desolation. 

One must have a moral compass, a sense of duty and responsibility to common humanity that transcends legality, convention, and organized religion.

Paul Newman as Luke.

They worship power, and reap desolation.

Strother Martin as Captain.

The only way to beat the system, to stick it to The Man, is to keep a part of yourself that can’t be touched or corrupted by evil men. They can take your body, but they can’t touch your soul. Just like Luke. 

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Book Review: Terror at the Gates (Blood of Lilith, #1) by Scarlett St. Clair

Book cover for Terror at the Gates (Blood of Lilith, #1) by Scarlett St. Clair

***Note: I received a free digital review copy of this book from NetGalley and Bloom Books in exchange for an honest review. I have not received compensation for the inclusion of any links for purchase found in this review or on any other page of The Voracious Bibliophile which mentions Terror at the Gates (Blood of Lilith, #1), its author, or its publisher.***

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Terror at the Gates (Blood of Lilith, #1) is coming out at a time in America where the rights of women and other marginalized groups are constantly under threat. In many places, they have fewer rights and freedoms than their mothers enjoyed. Weak men, wielding whatever shallow power is afforded them by the state and other weak men, are hell-bent on ensuring women serve not their own dreams and desires. No, it is their will that women remain curtailed, simply incubators to house and grow future servants (girls) and leaders (boys). 

Weak men, wielding whatever shallow power is afforded them by the state and other weak men, are hell-bent on ensuring women serve not their own dreams and desires.

I know there’s something to the fact that Scarlett St. Clair is releasing a story like this in a post-Roe world, because in our own world almost every woman is a Lilith Leviathan. Indoctrinated by religious zealot parents, repressed by a controlling church community that dictates how women should live and serve the church, and desperately in love with a man from a rival family who can’t love her the way she wants to be loved, Lilith is the female main character the world needs right now. 

I loved Lilith so much. Like many of us moving through the world with religious trauma, Lilith is forced to unlearn the doctrines wielded to deprive her of her humanity and to siphon away her power. Without spoiling anything, I will say that I loved watching the development of the relationship between Lilith and Zahariev Zareth. Oh Zahariev, you dark and brooding hottie, how lucky we are to read of you on the page. If only all men were like you, there’d be no MAGA, no world without Roe, and no need for any woman to ever have to say #MeToo. 

Oh Zahariev, you dark and brooding hottie, how lucky we are to read of you on the page.

MINOR SPOILER ALERT, LOOK AWAY IF YOU MUST!:

You do eventually get spice, even though you have to wait about 400 pages for it. When you get there, though, Lord have mercy! You’ll sweat through your clothes about eight different times 😉. Needless to say, I don’t think anyone involved (carnally, that is) with Zahariev would ever need a gym membership, at least not for cardio. Probably not for strength training, either, because your core would also get quite the workout. But enough of my innuendo.

I can’t wait to recommend this book to my customers, friends, and followers on this blog and elsewhere on social media. It’s the story all of us need right now, of women reclaiming their power and forging their own paths in spite of what others might choose for them, and we’re lucky to have Scarlett St. Clair to be the one to give it to us. 

By the way, that ending was one of the best I’ve ever read. I’m eagerly awaiting the second book in the series. 

Terror at the Gates (Blood of Lilith, #1) is now available at your local bookstore or library. I am obligated to make a plug for Books-a-Million, since I work there and it’s my favorite bookstore. You can order the signed edition of Terror at the Gates (Blood of Lilith, #1) from BAM! for 40% off right now, either shipped to your house or through a buy-online, pick-up-in-store order.

Fun Bonus Content

I had a little bit of fun creating content for my social media pages ahead of this book’s release. I hope you like it.

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Cinema as a Vehicle for Empathy

Me in front of the movie poster for 12 Angry Men.
Shelby in front of the movie poster for 12 Angry Men.
We saw this cool mural in Lexington while we were out walking trying to find a place to eat.
Me and Shelby in the car after we made it back home.

I’m on vacation this week (today is actually my last day), and one of the things I did this week was go on a date with my friend Shelby to the Kentucky Theatre in Lexington to see 12 Angry Men. We are both hardcore cinephiles. She recently made a joke on her Instagram about when she and her sisters were in a vendors mall that looked like the Criterion Closet and she filmed a little clip showing her picks. We love the movies everyone else likely hates, aside from film lovers like ourselves. Our tastes range from the artsy-yet-accessible to the experimental and avant-garde.

I had a recurring thought while 12 Angry Men was playing on the screen: It was highly probable that it had shown in the very screening room we were sitting in during its original run. What a full circle moment.

12 Angry Men made the third film we’ve seen in this theater (the first two were The Brutalist and I’m Still Here), which is one of the oldest in Kentucky. It has been in operation ever since the 1920s, so it feels particularly poignant and weighty in the best way to sit and watch a film here. I had a recurring thought while 12 Angry Men was playing on the screen: It was highly probable that it had shown in the very screening room we were sitting in during its original run. What a full circle moment.

If you’ve never had the chance to watch it, it’s truly one of the most electrifying and relevant films ever made. I feel like it’s more relevant now than it was in 1957. Directed by Sidney Lumet in his directorial debut, 12 Angry Men stars an ensemble cast which includes Henry Fonda, Lee J. Cobb, and Ed Begley. The story follows a jury of 12 men in a deliberation room after hearing a case of a young man (still a teenager) accused of killing his father. All the flimsy yet convenient circumstantial evidence points to his overwhelming guilt. On the surface level, it is easy to not see any possible reason why it was not this young man who killed his father. However, hesitant to end a man’s life without being absolutely certain of his guilt, Juror 8 (Henry Fonda) insists the men carefully review the facts of the case before they send him on his way to the electric chair.

All the flimsy yet convenient circumstantial evidence points to his overwhelming guilt.

12 Angry Men is one of those brilliant films that uses an enclosed space (these films are commonly referred to as chamber pieces) to heighten dramatic tension and force the characters therein to reckon with not only each other, but with themselves, on the deepest and most human level. The only other chamber piece I can think of that does this as well as 12 Angry Men is Rear Window, although an argument can also be made for The Shining. But I don’t think it’s fair to even call The Shining a chamber piece when there’s a significant portion of the film that occurs outside the Overlook Hotel.

12 Angry Men is one of those brilliant films that uses an enclosed space (these films are commonly referred to as chamber pieces) to heighten dramatic tension and force the characters therein to reckon with not only each other, but with themselves, on the deepest and most human level.

I’m not going to spoil how the rest of the movie goes, mainly because I want everyone alive in the Age of Trump to watch it. It has a lot of very important things to say about democracy, the pitfalls of a mob mentality, due process, and who is entitled to due process. It absolutely astounds me that this film didn’t receive any acting nominations at the Academy Awards, although it was nominated for Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Adapted Screenplay. Fonda himself should have been nominated for Best Actor. Lee J. Cobb and Joseph Sweeney also should have been nominated as Best Supporting Actors.

Henry Fonda as Juror 8.
Lee J. Cobb as Juror 3.
Joseph Sweeney as Juror 9.

The Kentucky Theatre is doing a Summer Classics series with more classic film showings throughout the summer and I hope we’re able to go and see more of them. For anyone reading this, I want to encourage you to support your local theater in any way you can. Cinema is a living art form that teaches us not only about our past, present, and future, but offers us possibilities about other ways of living. About the ways in which other people live and love and believe and dream. Cinema at its core is a vehicle for empathy. There’s something sacred and profound about sitting a room with other people, watching the same moving image at the same time, and feeling a part of a conversation that started long before you were born and will be going on long after you’re dead. It is a holy space of being unlike any other in the world, and it deserves to be cherished and protected. It transmutes grief into hope, isolation into community, and sorrow into profoundest joy.

It [the cinema] is a holy space of being unlike any other in the world, and it deserves to be cherished and protected. It transmutes grief into hope, isolation into community, and sorrow into profoundest joy.

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Now Everything Is Taylor’s Version

Taylor Swift stunned the music industry and the world when just this morning, she announced she had purchased back the master recordings of her first six albums from Shamrock Capital. Every single recording, including unreleased tracks, as well as the music videos, album artwork, concert films, and everything in between, now belongs to her.

So what about the Taylor’s Versions? We already have four of the six re-recorded albums: Fearless (Taylor’s Version) (2021), Red (Taylor’s Version) (2021), Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) (2023), and 1989 (Taylor’s Version) (2023). reputation (Taylor’s Version), putatively thought to be the next re-recording on Swift’s roster, is according to her roughly 25% complete. She may release the vault tracks at some unspecified point in the future, but has found little to improve upon in the original recordings. Taylor Swift (Taylor’s Version) is already complete, and I can’t imagine she’ll leave it unreleased, although who’s to say if it will come with the Taylor’s Version branding that’s preceded the other four re-recordings?

reputation (Taylor’s Version), putatively thought to be the next re-recording on Swift’s roster, is according to her roughly 25% complete. She may release the vault tracks at some unspecified point in the future, but has found little to improve upon in the original recordings.

Swift started this whole process when her masters were sold out from under her to someone who had no respect for her artistry, vision, or even her humanity. She had been subjected to “incessant, manipulative bullying” at his hands for years. It was a worst-case scenario for Swift, with her worst enemy owning her life’s work. I won’t glorify his actions by naming him. You can Google it if you so desire. This story isn’t his anyway.

I won’t glorify his actions by naming him. You can Google it if you so desire. This story isn’t his anyway.

Since she was the main songwriter for her entire body of work, she was allowed to start re-recording her first six albums after a certain amount of time had passed. What followed was the most masterful move of Swift’s career, or indeed any musician’s career in the industry’s history. If she couldn’t reclaim her masters, she would simply record new ones. To sweeten the pot for fans and incentivize streaming and buying the new versions, vault tracks were included that weren’t available on the original albums.

The idea of reclamation became a rallying cry for Swifties the world over. If Taylor could say no, and could systematically claim back pieces of herself piece by piece, then there was a blueprint in place for others to do the same. I don’t want to lose sight of the bigger picture here. As a wealthy white woman with a zealous and dedicated fanbase (among whose ranks is yours truly), and a marketing genius rivaling any brand of the past century, Swift already wielded an enormous amount of economic and social capital. Even people who didn’t know about her knew about her. But I don’t think that lessens the power of what she did, nor its significance for every artist in every medium moving forward.

The idea of reclamation became a rallying cry for Swifties the world over. If Taylor could say no, and could systematically claim back pieces of herself piece by piece, then there was a blueprint in place for others to do the same.

Her name is now shorthand for the culture at large, a canvas upon which ideas of femininity, wealth, sex, and power are painted with reckless abandon. She released not one but two career-defining albums in the early days of the global pandemic, giving voice to the loneliness and isolation that still lingers like a ghost in the world’s house.

Her name is now shorthand for the culture at large, a canvas upon which ideas of femininity, wealth, sex, and power are painted with reckless abandon.

The juggernaut that was The Eras Tour (which I attended twice, in Nashville and Cincinnati) catapulted Swift to a level of fame, presence, and wealth that was and is truly astounding. Every night, she allowed us to see not only every version of ourselves, but every version of herself, and that dialogue of change and constancy is part of the unique alchemy that makes Swift so lovable and so inimitable.

Every night, she allowed us to see not only every version of ourselves, but every version of herself, and that dialogue of change and constancy is part of the unique alchemy that makes Swift so lovable and so inimitable.

Picture of me at The Eras Tour in Nashville. My surprise songs that night were “Fifteen” and “Out Of The Woods”.
Picture of me at The Eras Tour in Cincinnati. My surprise songs that night were “ivy” (feat. Aaron Dessner), “I miss you, I’m sorry” (feat. Gracie Abrams), and “Call It What You Want”.

We’re all reeling now because everything has changed. Does she even need to release the final two re-recordings? Her name and reputation are already hers once again, so the point seems moot. The completist in me still wants them, wants to see the end of the Yellow Brick Road we started off on with her back in 2021, the first time we heard the new versions of the old songs. I still want her to make it to the Wizard, to kill the Wicked Witch of the West and figure out she had the power in her to go back home all along. But then again, she did, didn’t she? She got everything she ever wanted, everything that was hers all along. She willed her own way home.

It is selfish and myopic of us to ask her to give us more, to cut off another piece of her flesh to feed us when it’s time for her to have some peace. Now once again having everything that was lost, it feels like the ending to a chapter. Not the story, of course. The story of us, of Taylor and her Swifties, will continue to be written. It will never end, not when we’re all dead and buried. We’re timeless. Long live the memories, the magic, and the moments we created together. The photographs will tell the only story that matters, the one the world will remember all too well.

The photographs will tell the only story that matters, the one the world will remember all too well.

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Redefining Success

What does “having it all” mean to you? Is it attainable?

The idea of “having it all” is not just impossible, it’s undesirable. Why should we want it all? Everything we carry has weight, and lucky are we if our burdens are light.

Everything we carry has weight, and lucky are we if our burdens are light.

What we need is to redefine what makes a life successful. It’s not money, degrees, accolades, or the accoutrements associated with the accumulation of wealth and prestige. It’s not someone looking at your corpse in a funeral parlor and exclaiming, “Wow, they had it all!” Let them say of us not, “Look at what they did,” but “Look at who they were.”

Success is looking in the mirror and saying, “I have everything I need.” Success is being surrounded by people you love and spending time with them every day. Success is sipping your coffee and watching the sunrise unhurried. Success is forgetting what day it is and not needing to care. Success is reading a book you’ve always wanted to read or watching a film that connects you with people who have been dead for a long time and being moved to tears. Success is eating the chocolate cake and not tainting the sweetness with guilt. Success is saying no until you’re heard. Success is being home.

Success is eating the chocolate cake and not tainting the sweetness with guilt.

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Wordle: May 22nd, 2025

Wordle 1,433 3/6

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Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Wordle: May 21st, 2025

Wordle 1,432 6/6

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🟩⬜🟨⬜⬜

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Book Review

The West Wind (The Four Winds #2) by Alexandria Warwick

Book cover for The West Wind (The Four Winds #2) by Alexandria Warwick

First of all, let me say that Alexandria Warwick is on my list of auto-buy authors from now on. I loved the first book in this series, The North Wind, and the follow-up did not disappoint. I read both the first and second books in the series with my friend John, and we’re planning on reading the third (comes out this month) and fourth (TBA) books when they come out.

Brielle is a Daughter of Thornbrook, a novitiate in service to the Father and the Text. Her dream and one true goal is to become an acolyte and advance in her faith under the tutelage of Mother Mabel, the Abbess of Thornbrook. She has dedicated her life in service to the Father and the running of Thornbrook. Like the nuns of Catholicism in our own world, one of the vows the novitiates of Thornbrook are beholden to is the vow of chastity. She must never touch a man. She and the other novitiates wear gloves at all times, especially when selling their wares in Carterhaugh.

Like the nuns of Catholicism in our own world, one of the vows the novitiates of Thornbrook are beholden to is the vow of chastity. She must never touch a man.

Zephyrus is the West Wind, an immortal god, one of the Anemoi, the four brothers who control the Four Winds. He is the Bringer of Spring. He is also bound to Under, the realm whose existence is shrouded in mystery and mysticism to the novitiates of Thornbrook. Every seven years, a tithe takes place in Under, in which the novitiates of Thornbrook pay a price for the continued existence of their abbey lands. But Zephyrus is also forced to pay a price, one that is far more dear than anyone could possibly imagine.

When Brielle finds a wounded man in need of help outside the walls of the abbey, she has to make a choice. Let him suffer, and possibly die, or risk bringing him back to her room to nurse him back to health. The decision she makes will set off a chain of events that will change not only her, but her entire world, forever.

The story of Brielle and Zephyrus, however, is completely original. Contained herein is a perfect mix of heroism, adventure, love, and sacrifice.

The West Wind takes inspiration from both the Greek myth of Hero and Leander as well as the Scottish ballad Tam Lin. The story of Brielle and Zephyrus, however, is completely original. Contained herein is a perfect mix of heroism, adventure, love, and sacrifice. In order to become the people they were destined to be, Brielle and Zephyrus will have to leave behind everything they thought they knew, about themselves and the world around them.

Needless to say, this was a five-star read for me. I’m eagerly awaiting the next book in the series. Goldsboro Books, an independent bookshop in London, United Kingdom that specializes in signed and specialized books, is releasing a special numbered and signed edition with sprayed and stenciled edges. It’s limited to only 500 copies, and I was lucky enough to snag one. They’re still in stock as of this writing, so if you want one I will include the link here:

For the standard edition paperback of The South Wind (currently a preorder) and the first two books in the series, visit my personal favorite bookstore (linked below) or get them wherever books are sold.

The North Wind (paperback)

The West Wind (paperback)

The South Wind (paperback)

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Wordle: May 20th, 2025

Wordle 1,431 4/6

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Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.

Book Review

The Games Gods Play (The Crucible #1) by Abigail Owen

Book cover for The Games Gods Play (The Crucible #1) by Abigail Owen.

First of all, I will say that this book was entertaining. I don’t usually gravitate towards mythology-centered books that bring pantheons of any culture into the modern world, but if anything is well-written enough I’ll give it a go. My book club chose this book and we just finished it a couple of weeks ago. I’ve been holding off of writing an official review for it because I have very mixed feelings.

First of all, can we dispense with the FMCs who are written as baddies but who have the internal monologue of a damsel in distress? The dissonance is just too much. That’s one reason I’m having a hard time getting through Fourth Wing right now, because the FMC (Violet Sorrengail) is supposed to be this fierce dragon rider but her internal thought process is all about how she doesn’t think she can do it and wah wah wah. It gets really old. I think the next romantasy I pick up where there’s a dissonance between the FMC’s inner thoughts and her entire personality (as observed by other characters), I’m just going to put it down. I already went through high school and I’m not interested in it again.

I don’t think I would have finished this book if I hadn’t have been reading it with my book club. The first hundred pages were a slog. Like pulling teeth. Thank God Owen takes her chapter lengths from the James Patterson playbook of writing and they were short.

Once the action started in earnest, I started to enjoy it more. The Labors were fun to read and I think the book would have been better served if they’d been elaborated on in more detail. Think Percy Jackson meets The Hunger Games, although the writing is not on par with either of those series by a long shot. The banter between Lyra and Hades was interesting, and the spice that spices was spicy. Catch my drift?

The most interesting characters in the entire book are Lyra’s thief friend Boone and the goddess Aphrodite. Boone is the friend you’d always want with you in a tight spot. He’s selfless, resourceful, and brave enough to risk pissing off the Lord of the Underworld in order to help out a friend.

Owen’s Aphrodite is gorgeous, horny, and a total gossip. She’s the friend who begs you to confide in her all so she can go tell your secrets to the other mean girls at her lunch table. You hate her for it when you find out, but you still crave her approval desperately. She’s Regina George by way of Olympus, and honestly, if Owen wanted to do a spinoff all about her, I’d say the heck with Lyra and Hades.

I know it sounds like I’m bagging a lot on this book, and I don’t want it to seem like that. At the end of the day, the book was a lot of fun. I ended up buying two different copies of it, the Deluxe Limited Edition with sprayed and stenciled edges and the audiobook too. I’ve been doing a lot of tandem reading, listening to the audiobook while following along in a physical copy or ebook. With my ADHD, it really helps me to stay focused. If I had to rate it, I’d still give the book four stars. It entertained me, and that’s enough. That alone was worth my money.

Caveat emptor, though…the book ends on a total cliffhanger which made me mad and now I have to wait until September to read the next book in the series. Oh well…

The Games Gods Play (The Crucible #1) is available wherever you get your books, but as a proud Books-a-Million! employee, I am linking to the BAM! website.

Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please like, comment, follow, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at fred.slusher@thevoraciousbibliophile.com or catch me on Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.