I still remember the humidity of Manila clinging to me as I ducked into a bookstore, desperate for an escape that didn’t involve a spreadsheet or a slide deck. I was there on a business trip, clocking those brutal 14-hour days where your brain starts to feel like over-boiled pasta. I picked up Leigh Bardugo’s The Familiar almost on a whim, and little did I know, I was about to fall down a rabbit hole I’d never want to climb out of.

This book became my tether to sanity. It kept me company through the soul-crushing silence of 20-hour flights and sat tucked under my arm in the famed, bustling cafés of Bonifacio Global City. I remember reading it by the turquoise waters of El Nido, the salty breeze catching the pages, and—I’ll be honest—sneaking a chapter or two at my desk in the office when I should have been focusing on “deliverables.”

“I actually can’t believe I stayed away from Bardugo’s work for so long. I am hooked, hooked, and hooked.”

In fact, I was so haunted by the atmosphere she created that I came back and re-read it exactly a year later. I had this nagging feeling that my jet-lagged, foggy, work-weary, and dangerously caffeine-fueled brain had missed the finer details the first time around.

Funnily enough, my suspicions were right. On the second pass, without the haze of travel exhaustion, I found myself falling ever more deeply in love with the Luzia and Santangelo trope—whatever you want to call that specific brand of yearning, tension, and magic, I am here for it.

There is something about the way this book feels. It isn’t just a story; it’s a mood. It’s the feeling of shadows lengthening in a Spanish corridor, the prickle of magic on the skin, and the heavy, delicious weight of secrets. It’s survival and ambition wrapped in silk and blood. Bardugo doesn’t just write scenes; she builds environments that settle into your bones.

What’s Next?

Since finishing The Familiar, I’ve spiraled. I’ve already inhaled Ninth House and Hell Bent. I am currently in the middle of “processing” Alex and Darlington, and believe me, once I have successfully untangled my emotions regarding them, they will be getting posts of their own!

But until then, let it be known: Bardugo is my latest auto-buy. I am honestly gutted I didn’t get around to her sooner, but perhaps there’s a silver lining in discovering a genius late—you have a whole mountain of masterpieces waiting for you to climb.

If you’re looking for a book that feels like a fever dream you never want to wake up from, this is it.