Fire, Kristin Cashore’s recent companion to Graceling, was one of the books I’ve most been looking forward to all year, and what an absolute joy to read.

Cashore’s characters have realistic, complicated emotions that you don’t usually see in fantasy novels for any age. There are any number of girls capable of kicking ass and taking names in recent fantasy novels, but Fire is so much more than that, a young woman who is strong and fearful and determined and sad. And Cashore is as sharp as anybody writing about the intersections of sex, power, desire, and responsibility.

It’s a romance that’s compelling without being gooshy, and matter-of-fact about sex while tastefully fading everything to black. But I love a good side of morality-play along with my action-adventure-fantasy-romances, and I’m most drawn by Fire’s gradual journey towards coming into her power, figuring out how it can be used for good instead of just for evil. Her coming out of her shell, towards relationships with the Love Interest but also his family, and her guards.

She’s asking big questions: how do we use the power that we have responsibly? How do we use the desire that we have responsibly? And Fire is so real and so beautiful, trying to stumble towards answers.