Restless Slumber — A Slow Burn That Sets You Ablaze

Everyone kept telling me the second Fortuna Sworn book was better than the first. I nodded along, skeptical, because sequels in paranormal romance? They're usually where authors lose the thread. Where the tension deflates and you're just... waiting for something to happen.

I was wrong. So wrong.

I started this at 2 AM because insomnia hit hard and Diego was being a menace, knocking things off my nightstand. Figured I'd listen until I got drowsy. Fourteen hours later, I was still awake, still listening, and my design deadline was absolutely shot. Worth it? My heart says yes. My client says we need to talk.

The Slow Knife of a Burn Done Right

Look, I'll be honest—the first few hours felt like wading through honey. Not bad honey, but thick. You can feel K.J. Sutton rebuilding the world, reestablishing stakes, reminding you who these people are. Some listeners bounced here. I almost checked my phone a few times.

But then something shifts. Around the time Fortuna starts really grappling with having hundreds of faeries essentially squatting in her consciousness—and the way Emma Lysy voices that internal chaos, that constant low-level static of other beings in your head—I was hooked. The pacing picks up and doesn't let go.

Collith. Oh, Collith. He's infuriating in the way that makes you want to throw your phone across the room and also maybe marry him? The push-pull between him and Fortuna, with Oliver still in the picture, creates this gorgeous mess of a love triangle that doesn't feel cheap. It feels earned. Every loaded glance, every almost-touch. The chemistry is chef's kiss.

Emma Lysy Understood the Assignment

Here's the thing about narrating a book where the protagonist has literal faeries in her head, a werewolf shadow, and a fae king husband she didn't ask for: you need range. Emma Lysy has it.

She doesn't do anything flashy. No dramatic accent shifts or theatrical flourishes. What she does is emotional precision. When Fortuna is spiraling, you hear the edges of panic in Lysy's voice without it ever tipping into melodrama. When she's being stubborn and sharp, there's this clipped quality that just is Fortuna.

By the end of this book, I couldn't imagine anyone else voicing this character. She fits like a glove you've worn for years—comfortable, familiar, and somehow still capable of surprising you.

That Ending Though (No Spoilers, Just Feelings)

I ugly-cried. Like, full-on mascara-running, cats-staring-at-me-concerned crying. The last hour or so is a gut-punch wrapped in a cliffhanger, and K.J. Sutton clearly has no interest in letting you sleep peacefully.

Abuela would have loved this one. She was a sucker for complicated love stories, for women who refused to break even when everything was designed to shatter them. That same unbreakable-woman energy is what made Testaments: The Sequel to The Handmaid's Tale wreck me—different world, same refusal to be crushed. Fortuna's stubbornness, her refusal to be a pawn in a corrupt fae court—that's the kind of energy Abuela would've cheered for between rosary beads and telenovela commentary.

The emotional highlights hit hard: moments between Fortuna and her brother (who's losing his grip on reality in ways that feel genuinely concerning), the slow unraveling of court politics, and those quiet scenes with Collith where you realize he's not just a love interest—he's a person with his own impossible burdens.

Where It Gets Messy (In a Good Way)

This book doesn't shy away from dark content. Violence, abuse, explicit scenes—it's all here. Not gratuitous, but present. If you need content warnings, take them seriously. This isn't a cozy read. It's a rainy-Sunday-with-a-blanket-and-wine read, the kind where you're processing heavy things but also completely absorbed.

The world-building expands without becoming overwhelming. The fae court politics grow more layered, the stakes get higher, and Fortuna's powers are doing something weird that I won't spoil but definitely had me pausing to whisper "what the hell" at my ceiling.

Who This Is (and Isn't) For

Listen if: You love slow-burn paranormal romance with real teeth, complicated fae politics, and heroines who refuse to shatter. If you survived book one and wanted more emotional devastation—congratulations, you're about to get it.

Skip if: You need fast pacing from page one, or dark content (violence, abuse, explicit scenes) is a hard no. That slow opening will test your patience.

My Heart Is Still Not Okay

This book felt like standing at the edge of something vast and terrifying and beautiful. It's not a speedrun—I listened at my usual 1.0x because rushing felt wrong. You need to sit with these characters, feel their weight.

Is it perfect? No. That slow opening will lose some people. But if you push through, if you let the story build its momentum, you'll understand why readers are screaming about this series.

My heart. MY HEART.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to start book three immediately and also apologize to my client.