'The Sugared Game' by K.J. Charles
- Reed
- Oct 7
- 3 min read
Updated: Oct 8
Author: K.J. Charles
Rating: B+
Vibe: 1920s gay pulp adventure with yearning, class warfare, and a spy who won't stop lying
Book 2 of the Will Darling series
Read reviews of Book 1: Slippery Creatures, and Book 3: Subtle Blood
There's a special kind of anxiety that comes with reading book two of a trilogy. Will it stall out? Will it just be setup? Will I spend 300 pages spinning my wheels until the real payoff in book three? K.J. Charles sidesteps the trap entirely. The Sugared Game moves—relationship, plot, emotional stakes—and never once feels like it's killing time until the finale.
It's been two months since soldier-turned-bookseller Will Darling last saw Kim Secretan—the slippery, aristocratic (probable) spy who turned his life upside down in Slippery Creatures (who is a man). Will's doing fine, actually. The bookshop is his now, he's got decent clothes, and no one's trying to kill him. But when he runs into a face from his past at a seedy nightclub, Kim reappears—as evasive, infuriating, and magnetic as ever. This time, Kim's being blackmailed, and he needs Will's help to untangle a conspiracy that cuts uncomfortably close to home. Cue the danger, the banter, the unresolved feelings, and a whole lot of "why won't you just tell me the truth, Kim?"
The heart of this book is the relationship between Will and Kim, and Charles understands exactly how much pressure to apply. Kim lies. Constantly. Will knows it. But there's real growth here—moments where Kim's armor cracks just enough for Will to see the person underneath all the deflection and charm. It's not a grand romantic gesture kind of book. It's quieter, more about two men learning how to exist in each other's gravity without destroying each other. The yearning is exquisite, and the emotional stakes feel earned rather than manufactured.
The adventure plot hums along with confidence. Charles writes pulpy 1920s intrigue well—nightclubs, blackmail, dangerous secrets, a shadowy organization called Zodiac—and it all moves at a pace that kept me engaged. I was never bored. The problem came at the end. The twist landed with a thud instead of a snap. It felt arbitrary rather than inevitable, like Charles pulled it from a drawer marked "surprising revelations" instead of planting it earlier in the book. I wanted breadcrumbs. I wanted that satisfying click when everything locks into place. It's not a dealbreaker, but it left me wishing for tighter plotting.
Here's the thing, though—I'm halfway through book three (Subtle Blood), and I can see the architecture now. The Sugared Game is doing foundational work: raising stakes, complicating loyalties, deepening the bond between Will and Kim in ways that are already paying off. So if you're reading this and thinking, "should I stop at book two?"—don't. This is a trilogy that builds, and Charles clearly has a destination in mind.
In the end, The Sugared Game earns a solid B+. It's not quite as tight as Slippery Creatures, but it deepens what matters most—the relationship between Will and Kim—and pushes the story forward with style and wit. The 1920s setting is immersive, the banter is sharp, and the slow burn is genuinely affecting. If you're here for pulpy adventure, you'll have fun. If you're here for two complicated men figuring out how to trust each other across a chasm of class and secrecy, you'll have even more.
Just keep going. Book three is where it's all heading.




