If you like my Rydding Village books and need something to keep you entertained while I write book 3 (you’ve already read book 2, right?), I have a recommendation for you: The Spellshop, by Sarah Beth Durst. I’ve known Sarah a really long time. I think we first met in 2006, and we’ve hung out together when we’re at the same events, bonding over curly hair and fantasy books. As soon as she started talking about this book, I was excited. It’s along the same lines as the Rydding Village books, in that it’s cottagecore cozy fantasy about a woman finding refuge in a magical village.

An extremely introverted librarian packs up as many books as she can and flees when a revolution sets the city and the library on fire. The only place she can think of to go for refuge is her childhood home on a remote island. She initially plans to just keep the spellbooks safe, since unauthorized use of magic is absolutely forbidden, but when she learns that the people on the island are suffering because the sorcerers who were supposed to be visiting to take care of things haven’t been, she starts looking up spells she can use to help. She can sell “remedies” to help the islanders, including the handsome merhorse farmer next door. She’s safe as long as no outsiders come to the island, but then a storm blows in a refugee who could put everything at risk.

This is a sweet, charming book about community that also gets into issues dealing with resources and how they should be fairly allocated, as well as questions about the difference between what’s right and what’s legal. There’s a subtle, gentle romance, but it’s mostly about the loner heroine learning to allow herself to be part of a community and to open her heart and explore her abilities. It’s like one of those women’s fiction books about the woman going to a village and opening a bakery/cafe/candy shop/bookstore, only in a magical world with flying cats, sentient spider plants, tree spirits, and merhorses.

It certainly makes me look at my spider plant differently, and I feel a little sad about having to rehome the giant granddaddy one when I moved. The one danger of reading this as a follow-up to Bread and Burglary might be that you’d be even hungrier, as there’s a lot of talk about jam and baked goods.