I took a long pause before agreeing to read and review this one. My hesitation had nothing to do with the premise — it was because Curses, Keys, and Secret Societies is marketed as a standalone follow-up to Spells, Strings, and Forgotten Things — which I haven’t read. I took the description at its word and dove in anyway. That turned out to be partially the right call.

I didn’t feel lost, exactly. But I did feel like I’d arrived in the middle of programming already in progress. References to characters and events from the first book floated past me — I could follow the thread, but I suspect I missed nuance that would have made certain moments land harder. My recommendation? If you’re intrigued, start with book one. You’ll thank yourself.

That said, the story Breanne Randall builds here is genuinely compelling. Eléa Deniz returns home to the French countryside after four years away — called back by her dying mother, arriving just too late to say goodbye. While heartbreaking, it resonates with the emotional landscape of Elea’s family history: a father who feels dangerous, a mother who withheld affection, a brother who smothers out of a desire to protect, and a childhood best friend who greets her return not with warmth but with a warning to leave.

Eléa’s choice to stay is a tangle of petulance and pride and something harder to name, a bone-deep need to prove herself, maybe to the world, maybe mostly to herself. Add a nagging sense that something is very wrong beneath the surface, and you have the strong foundation for a compelling story.

The plot delivers on its premise: intrigue, a secret society, and a prophecy that raises the stakes considerably. But I found myself wishing more of the danger had been shown rather than told. I understood that Eléa was in peril. I was less often made to feel it. The story and its characters sit closer to the surface than I wanted — I was listening to them tell me what happened, rather than being pulled into the scenes.

Where this author shines is in the balance of her magical world. Maintaining suspension of disbelief in fiction involving magic is something I care about deeply as a reader — too outlandish, and the whole world collapses. Here, the magic feels palpable and consistent. The emotional undercurrents — family secrets, hard-won redemption, a romance laced with longing and the slow-burn satisfaction of something finally, tentatively fulfilled.

I liked this book. I wanted to love it. The difference, I think, is that I wasn’t introduced to this world from the first book.

A review copy was provided by the publisher. All opinions are my own.