Half Ojibwe and half white, 18-year-old Daunis Fontaine is used to walking the line between her mixed identities and cultures.  As an unenrolled tribal member, she's not quite part of the Native world.  As a Native, she's not exactly immersed in the white world either.  It shouldn't matter, but it does, especially in Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan.  That's why Daunis can't wait to escape to college in Ann Arbor, where she can start studying for her medical degree.  A family emergency has delayed her plans, but it won't be forever.  Soon, she'll be able to break free.  In the meantime, she'll continue volunteering at the rec center, working on her hockey game, and trying not to fall under the spell of the hot new guy on the rink.  

When Daunis witnesses a murder, it shakes up her careful plans.  Suddenly, she finds herself in the middle of an FBI investigation centering on a dangerous new drug.  Reluctantly agreeing to go undercover in order to help, she's thrust into a dangerous world that could put everything she's worked for and dreamed of at risk.  She's dedicated to helping her community, but at what cost?  People are dying around her; Daunis does not want to be next.  As shocking revelations come to light, she learns some startling truths about her family, her friends, and the clashing worlds that combine to make her who she is.  Will her life ever be the same again?

Firekeeper's Daughter, a debut novel by Angeline Boulley, has been receiving massive buzz ever since it came out in March.  And no wonder.  It tells a sweeping, multi-faceted story set against the backdrop of a unique, complex community.  With its intimate look at Ojibwe customs and mythology, it feels more layered, more expansive than other teen thrillers.  That being said, the mystery at its core is compelling, with enough twists to keep it interesting.  Yes, I saw some of the story swerves coming and yes, elements of the tale seem far-fetched, but neither detracts much from this absorbing page-turner.  The characters are colorful and well-drawn (with the exception of Jamie, who's pretty blah for a leading man).  Boulley's prose is skilled and assured.  The plotting is tight and taut.  All things considered, I quite enjoyed this buzzy #OwnVoices novel.  Pretty sure I'm not the only one who's waiting anxiously to see what Boulley does next!

(Readalikes:  Reminds me a little of the Wind River Reservation mystery series by Margaret Coel and Hearts of the Missing by Carol Potenza)

To the FTC, with love:  I bought a copy of Firekeeper's Daughter with a portion of the millions I make from my lucrative career as a book blogger.  Ha ha.

At 26, Meddelin Chan is playing the part of the dutiful Asian daughter by living with her mother and working as a photographer for the family wedding planning business.  It's not exactly what she had in mind for her future, but she can't allow herself to follow her cousins' shameful examples by flitting off to a more exotic clime in search of her own life, leaving her mother behind to cluck over her disloyalty.  Even as she yearns for freedom, Meddy has to admit she finds reluctant comfort in the way her mom and her mom's three loud, overbearing sisters fuss over her every move.  When a bad blind date takes a turn for the much, much worse, she knows exactly who to call.  Turns out, when it comes to hiding a body, her always-feuding, middle-aged aunties are better than the mob.  

Meddy's timing couldn't be worse, however.  With the biggest wedding of their career about to unfold, the women have to bring their A-game to the sparkling event.  Having a corpse along for the ride is not exactly helping.  Things become even more complicated when Meddy realizes her college boyfriend—the one she has pined for ever since their devastating break-up four years ago—is part of the wedding.  Then, the groomsmen get too plastered to walk down the aisle, millions of dollars in gifts go missing, a storm descends on the resort venue, and everything else that could possibly go wrong does.  A suspicious sheriff on the premises could mean the end of the charade and the incarceration of Meddy and her unlikely accomplices.  Can the ladies pull off both a flawless wedding and the perfect crime?  Or will they be planning their next event behind bars, wearing those oh-so-unflattering orange jumpsuits? 

Ever since I heard about Dial A for Aunties, a debut novel by Jesse Q. Sutanto, I knew I wanted to read it.  It just sounded like the perfect light-hearted blend of rom-com and cozy mystery.  Sure, it would be far-fetched and silly, but it also promised to be a fun, upbeat romp.  I've read a lot of dark, depressing books lately, so I was down for something different.  My verdict?  Dial A for Aunties is a fun read in lots of ways.  The "aunties" are definitely the highlight of the story with their constant bickering, hilarious malapropisms, and misplaced pride.  While little about the plot makes any logical sense, it is entertaining in its madcap absurdity.  I also appreciated the #OwnVoices aspect of this novel, in which Sutanto highlights her own Indonesian-Chinese heritage.  All of these elements combine to make the story humorous and entertaining.

I read mostly serious books, which sometimes makes it tough for me to really appreciate a kooky comedy.  So, while I found Dial A for Aunties entertaining, its quick transitions from silly to ridiculous to utterly absurd did drive me a little crazy after a while.  By the end of the story, I was very much done with the over-the-top-ness of it all.  Even in a screwball story like this, there has to be some logic governing the characters' actions, right?  Another thing that tempers the fun in this one is that it's actually very R-rated.  I was surprised to find F-bombs being dropped all over the place, as well as a plethora of innuendo and less subtle sexual references.  This just didn't fit the fun, cozy-ish vibe Dial A for Aunties seemed to be going for.  I admit to going into this book with unrealistically high expectations, which maybe contributed to me feeling (disproportionally?) disappointed in it.  Nevertheless, I found myself wishing for a less daffy, more PG version of this novel.  This opinion will probably make me an outlier in the book blogging world (which is totally okay), but for me, Dial A for Aunties was just an average read.  An entertaining one, just one that didn't turn out to be as satisfying as I wanted it to be.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of the Noodle Shop Mystery series by Vivien Chien)

To the FTC, with love:  I received an e-ARC for Dial A for Aunties from the generous folks at Penguin Random House in exchange for an honest review.  Thank you!

Minnie Miranda's single mother—an Argentine-American with no close family—labors tirelessly to support her and her two younger sisters.  Mamá is always working overtime at her menial jobs, leaving Minnie in charge.  When she is in their drafty basement apartment, Mamá is exhausted and cranky.  Despite all her hours at work, the fridge is never full, Minnie's sisters have few toys, and all of them make do with embarrassing castoff clothing.  Although the 12-year-old knows she should be grateful just to have a roof over her head, Minnie's tired of being poor, frustrated with all of her grown-up responsibilities, and especially weary of her mother's constant warnings to never let outsiders into their lives.  Mamá insists they don't need anyone's help with anything.  Minnie's not so sure.

Despite the endless hours she works, Mamá always comes home in the evenings to say goodnight to her girls.  When she fails to appear one night, Minnie hopes Mamá has just been unable to get away.  With no word from her, however, Minnie begins to fear the worst: she's been detained by ICE.  Knowing she can't confide in anyone—not even a surprising new school friend—she carries on as best she knows how, trying to keep her sisters calm, fed, and entertained.  Nothing seems to go her away, although somehow, the girls seem to be getting a bit of help from the Peques, the Argentine fairies Minnie's younger sisters still believe in.

Even the Peques can't help with Minnie's upcoming audition for Peter Pan.  Minnie knows a penniless Latinx girl has no real hope of playing Wendy, but she's desperate to try for the part.  Mamá knows how important the audition is to Minnie and promised to be there.  Is she really going to miss it?  If she could be there, Minnie knows she would be.  What has happened to Mamá?  She can't conceal her family's situation for much longer, but her mother has always insisted strangers can't be trusted.  What is Minnie to do? 

Let's be honest here, the cover of On These Magic Shores by Argentine-American Yamile Saied Méndez is...not great.  Thank goodness it came to my attention because of The Whitney Awards.  Had I seen the book in a library or bookstore, I never would have picked it up.  And that would have been a shame because there's a lot to like about this #OwnVoices middle grade novel.  It touches on a lot of tough issues—racism, poverty, fear of deportation, children with too much responsibility, etc.—in a way that is eye-opening but also approachable.  As Minnie struggles, she learns the value of friendship, forgiveness, asking for help when you need it, and being grateful for what you have even if it's not a lot.  Some of the lessons are more subtle than others, but they're all there.  Although the plot of On These Magic Shores isn't always logical, the transitions between scenes not always smooth, and the prose a little rough in places, overall the story is engaging and compelling with enough going on to keep me turning pages.  The magical realism isn't my favorite element of this novel, but it worked well enough.  Character-wise, Minnie and her sisters are sympathetic heroines.  Minnie's prickly personality makes her difficult to like, especially when she acts like a victim-y brat.  She does grow and change because of her struggles, but she's still a bit hard to take.  Others act inconsistently (Maverick, for instance), but they're still a likable lot overall.  There are enough issues with On These Magic Shores that I didn't end up loving it.  However, it is an eye-opening, empowering, empathy-inducing story.  I liked it overall.

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of Land of the Cranes by Aida Salazar and Efrén Divided by Ernesto Cisneros)