Hell yeah!I was immersed straight away and felt the injustice and oppression. The FMC is also a badassI found how quick they became pulled to one another odd given how much they're supposed hate each other AND how quick they seemed to heal from significant/painful injuries was something I just had to go along with. Must have magical bath water or something ??‍♀️The writing style is what made me fall in love with this book it's so visceral and emotive which made it really easy to get into the world and the story."Shadera heard the click of a hundred safeties disengaging, a hundred red targeting dots scattered across her body like a deadly constellation" "You don't get to play tourist to my suffering"I don't think I've ever highlighted so much in a book before.Love the different points of view and I love Callum and Jameson ?Is it enemies to lovers...yesDid they start using the L word after 3 days...yesThe ending!!! Omg yes the female rage! So good I honestly ate this book up, incredible ???FMC: 30MMC: 33Thank you Pan MacMillan | Bramble for gifting me this e-arc in exchange for an honest review

I didn’t expect to enjoy this dystopian novel as much as I did—it’s not usually a genre I’m drawn to—but it completely pulled me in. Set in a world where women are treated as second-class citizens, or worse, the story is both unsettling and deeply compelling. The contrast between the two parts of the city is striking, each with its own atmosphere, beliefs, and hidden truths. Themes of rebellion and desperate, consuming love run throughout, intertwined with moments of cruelty and abuse that, while difficult to read at times, feel integral to the story being told. This isn’t a book for the faint-hearted, and some scenes may be triggering for certain readers. However, its rawness and intensity are part of what make it so powerful. I was hooked from beginning to end and devoured it in a single sitting. I’m already looking forward to the sequel and will definitely be picking it up. A gripping and unforgettable read that I would wholeheartedly recommend.

I am not a reader of Dark Romance usually but this book kept finding me on social media...so here it is! A dystopian country which could not be more USA coded if it tried. A Misogynistic, toxic patriarchy, a stratified society - ringing bells yet?? This was a fantastic story of love, loss, female oppression and rebellion, toxic family dynamics and rebellion. Be warned - difficult topics and themes abound in this book so please heed the content/trigger warnings. The worldbuilding is great but sometimes it did drag the story pacing down a wee bit but nothing that bothered me too much. There was such a diverse cast of characters, who all face their own struggles, grief, trauma and betrayal. The found family vibes are strong amongst our rebels, even when they are rocked by betrayal from their allies they don't fall apart. There are plenty of WTAF moments. I did see one of the plot twists coming but not the final twist which turned everything on its head again. I do prefer for the villan/big bad to be reprehensible and unredeemable and Maximus is that in spades. The man gave the ick from the start and by the end I wanted to reach into the story and perpetrate some torture on the meatbag myself (always the sign of a good story). Shadera is fierce, flexible, morally adaptable but also wracked with guilt. Greyson has to live within the highest echelons of a system he hates, doing what he can from the inside. These two are actual enemies to lovers and the road is not easy for them. Even by the end of the 1st book we're still not sure how they can survive their predicament. Lira and Callum are the ones to watch though - OMG the chemistry is off the scales but Poor Lira has some trauma that needs to be addressed but she makes a fine start to getting some of that feminine rage out! The yearning vibes are immaculate! I'm not sure what we're going to do to poor Jameson but whatever happens that man needs a HEA somehow - please don't kill him off! *my review was created from an E-ARC I received via NetGalley*

Have you ever read a book that didn’t feel like an escape… but like a quiet unraveling into something you already carry inside of you? That’s what Daggermouth was for me. I went into this expecting a dark, immersive world. I didn’t expect it to feel so familiar. Wolfe doesn’t just build a setting—she constructs a system. One that is layered, suffocating, and painfully precise in the way it controls, limits, and erases. And the most unsettling part is how recognizable it all feels. Because some harm doesn’t scream. It whispers. It turns itself into rules, into borders, into expectations about who gets to exist freely and who has to survive in pieces. Reading this felt like watching those invisible forces move—the kind that don’t leave obvious scars but still reshape everything. And yet… there is so much humanity here. The characters aren’t perfect—they’re trying. Trying to hold on. Trying to hope. Trying to choose each other in a world that makes that choice feel impossible. I loved them for that. The Boundary wasn’t just a place to me—it felt like a family. Messy, fragile, fiercely loyal. Built out of defiance and quiet tenderness and the kind of love that refuses to disappear, even when everything around it demands that it should. And the love in this story… it isn’t loud. It isn’t grand or sweeping. It’s soft. It lingers. It shows up in the smallest ways—glances, gestures, the steady act of holding someone up when everything else is trying to pull them under. It reminded me that even the quietest forms of care can be acts of resistance. There were moments in this book that brushed up against something personal for me. Not because the story mirrors reality exactly, but because power—and the harm it creates—speaks in patterns that echo across worlds. Borders. Walls. Surveillance. The illusion of “order.” The cost of being seen as other. As a Palestinian reader, that resonance didn’t feel distant. It felt close. Familiar in a way I didn’t expect, and honestly… couldn’t ignore. Daggermouth is heavy. There’s no way around that. But it’s also alive—with connection, with warmth, with the quiet insistence that even in places built to break people, they will still find ways to love each other anyway. And that matters. That always matters. If you made it this far (hi, I love you