I ended up reading this one slowly, just enjoying the writing and making little notes as I went. Behzadi’s prose is polished and slightly formal, but in a way that feels warm rather than stiff, like stepping into a quieter, older world. I’ve always loved epistolary storytelling, and it adds a lovely sense of closeness here. I appreciated how the letters didn’t just develop the relationship but also deepened my understanding of each character — flaws and all. I can see why Divine Rivals is mentioned in the description, though Letters from the Last Apothecary has a more classic, refined tone of its own.
I liked how emotionally attuned the character work felt. The not‑friends‑to‑lovers arc between Josie and Reid unfolds with a patience that I really appreciated. There’s no forced banter or dramatic inner spirals — just two people shaped by pride, misinterpretation, and the hope of being seen clearly. Their irritation with each other still leaves space for something softer, and the shift happens in such a natural way. I liked that their feelings aren’t spelled out. Their relationship is endearing, earned, and grounded in who these characters are rather than who the plot needs them to be. Their dynamic felt honest enough that I actually leaned in instead of doing my automatic romance‑Grinch eye‑roll. I wish I weren’t so quick to do it, but here we are.
The worldbuilding has the same gentle feel. I love it when magic systems feel like you’re learning alongside the characters, and that’s exactly what I experienced here. I really enjoyed discovering how it works — not just the mechanics, but how the characters understand it, what’s instinctive versus learned, and how much it resembles real‑world skills. It made magic feel completely ordinary in the best way, like something woven into daily life. I caught myself getting excited about the different disciplines of magic in the same way I do with university‑style learning, with the libraries and the books and the quiet thrill of figuring out how things fit together.
The first half of the book lays the emotional and relational groundwork; the second half leans more fully into the mystery. I thought the blend of fantasy, romance, and mystery was well balanced. It felt like I was witnessing a story between two people at a particularly eventful moment in their lives. It was never too self‑gratifying on romance, and it was never too heavy on impressive magic, though the way magic worked remained interesting and memorable. I found myself wishing for a little more of the mystery because my sleuthing‑self was intrigued, but even so, the resolution felt satisfying and not wholly predictable.
I’d recommend this to readers who enjoy character‑driven fantasy with a touch of mystery and a classic, refined narrative voice. It’s not difficult to follow, but it doesn’t rely on contemporary casual language either. The prose has a quiet, secure elegance that I found deeply satisfying. It matches the “dress code” of the time, which helped anchor me in the when and where just as much as the who, what, and why. This book read like a standalone to me, but I see it’s the first in a series, and I look forward to reading more. I’m already pre‑ordering a physical copy of Letters from the Last Apothecary from my local bookshop — as much as I enjoyed the e‑book, I think experiencing the story with book‑in‑hand will be especially wonderful.
4.5 ⭐ rounding up to 5
Thank you to Hay House (Hay House LLC) and NetGalley for the advance reading copy of Letters from the Last Apothecary by Bita Behzadi.
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Rating Guide: My star ratings represent personal resonance, not universal value. I admire writers for the courage it takes to be seen and the discipline it takes to create. Thank you for writing, and for reading.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ 5 — Deeply resonant, even when I can’t fully put it into words
⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 — Compelling and well‑written
⭐⭐⭐ 3 — Not quite my style, but still enjoyable
⭐⭐ 2 — Had promise but didn’t quite land
⭐ 1 — Fell short of what I hoped for