Review: The Waking Dark

The Waking Dark

Author: Robin Wasserman
Pages: 464
Publisher: Knopf Books for Young Readers
Publication Date: September 10, 2013
Read: September 7-8, 2013
Source: Gifted ARC by friend who went to ALA

Description from Goodreads:
They called it the killing day. Twelve people dead, all in the space of a few hours. Five murderers: neighbors, relatives, friends. All of them so normal. All of them seemingly harmless. All of them now dead by their own hand . . . except one. And that one has no answers to offer the shattered town. She doesn't even know why she killed—or whether she'll do it again.

Something is waking in the sleepy town of Oleander's, Kansas—something dark and hungry that lives in the flat earth and the open sky, in the vengeful hearts of upstanding citizens. As the town begins its descent into blood and madness, five survivors of the killing day are the only ones who can stop Oleander from destroying itself. Jule, the outsider at war with the world; West, the golden boy at war with himself; Daniel, desperate for a different life; Cass, who's not sure she deserves a life at all; and Ellie, who believes in sacrifice, fate, and in evil. Ellie, who always goes too far. They have nothing in common. They have nothing left to lose. And they have no way out. Which means they have no choice but to stand and fight, to face the darkness in their town—and in themselves.

First Sentence: "Later, after he'd trashed his bloody clothes, and stood under the cold shower long enough that the water circling the drain had gone from red to pink to clear, Daniel Ghent would wonder if some part of him had known what was to come—or should have."

Review:

I absolutely adored Robin Wasserman's The Book of Blood and Shadow, which blended horror, paranormal, historical and contemporary fiction into something dark and beautiful. As such, I had very high expectations for The Waking Dark, which were partly met but not wholly. The key thing to know about The Waking Dark is that it is a horror novel, pure and simple, though calling the novel simple is rather misleading.

The Book of Blood and Shadow began with blood and murders. The Waking Dark tops that, opening with twelve deaths in five outpourings of seemingly random violence, each witnessed by one teen who survived. For the most part, The Waking Dark follows these five teens: Daniel, Jule, Ellie, West, and Cass. Wasserman uses a third person narrative style that does occasionally drift to other characters temporarily, but 95% of the book is about these five.

The Waking Dark follows along a basic horror story arc. The murders occur, but then life settles a bit and normalcy seems to return, only not quite. Something dark lurks beneath the surface of the people of Oleander, Kansas. It's almost as if the id is taking over, people's basest and most secret desires taking control; instant gratification mattering more than social mores. Wasserman's tale is unrelentingly dark and creepy.

The large cast of characters is both a boon and a drawback. None of them quite get enough characterization for me to be wholly invested in them, a fact exacerbated by not ever getting to see them before the Killing Day, as the day of the opening comes to be known. However, the large cast is an intriguing one. Daniel's the son of a drunk, who calls himself the Preacher, and judged by the town for that. Jule, short for Juliet, is part of the infamous Prevette family, meth heads, meth makers, and meth dealers, and she's trying to figure out if she can be free of that taint. Ellie is driven by her faith in Christianity. West is a popular football player, trying to hide that he's in love with a boy. Cass is popular and smart, babysitting kids (and she hates kids) in order to save up enough money to escape Kansas for college. There aren't many YA books written about kids like these, except maybe those like Cass, so reading about them was refreshing.

The best aspect of The Waking Dark is Robin Wasserman's writing which is positively beautiful. That woman can turn a phrase. This raises The Waking Dark above the average horror offerings. She does use the horror to make commentaries on human nature, war, and faith. She manages to make the novel quite meaningful, though the plot is something straight out of a horror film, sort of like The Bible Belt Goes Bananas.

As may be obvious, what I didn't care for was the plot. The whole thing just seems way too absurd to me. I feel like this could have been a great idea, but the explanation for how this madness came to the town strikes me as utterly ridiculous. Not buying into that, it's really just violence for violence's sake, which is all very well, but horror really isn't my genre of choice.

Horror fans, get thee to a bookstore, because Robin Wasserman's The Waking Dark is a creepy thrill ride full of death and blood from the first page to the very last ones. Even if you're not much for horror, The Waking Dark may be worth it for Wasserman's beautiful prose.

Rating: 3/5

Favorite Quote: "'I know you'd have more fun with Team Sinner. We win all the championships."

Sadie Hawkins Sunday Review #32: The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer

The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer
Mara Dyer, Book 1

Author: Michelle Hodkin
Pages: 452
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Read: August 28-September 2, 2013
Source: Won ARC and yeah oops
Recommended by: Aly of My Heart Hearts Books

Description from Goodreads:
Mara Dyer doesn’t think life can get any stranger than waking up in a hospital with no memory of how she got there.
It can.

She believes there must be more to the accident she can’t remember that killed her friends and left her mysteriously unharmed.
There is.

She doesn’t believe that after everything she’s been through, she can fall in love.
She’s wrong.

First Sentence: "The ornate script on the board twisted in the candlelight, making the letters and numbers dance in my head."

Review:
Going into The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer, I had some expectations but also no real idea what the book was actually about. It's an odd thing, diving into a book that pretty much everyone you know has already read. Though readers at large loved Hodkin's debut, the bulk of my friends, as evidenced by ratings on Goodreads, did not like this book at all. For much of the book, I could definitely see myself going the same way, but then the twist happened and I've got to say that I'm curious and really eager to read the next book.

Before you get mad at me, do not even try to tell me that saying there's a twist in this book is a spoiler. It's about a girl who waked up in a hospital with no memory of her friends dying and herself being trapped when a building collapsed. Obviously, that is a book that is all about surprising you with spoilers. You should expect this.

As is the case with many books that use this basic framework, The Unbecoming of Mara Dyer is a bit slow and awkward at the beginning. Much of the book, you're really just waiting for answers and a reason to care. Thankfully, I found one, with the seriously creepy twist about which I want to know so much more. I wish I could say more about that, but then it would be a spoiler.

Many readers were upset by the relationship dynamics between Mara and Noah, but it really wasn't as bad as I was expecting. Noah does run to the English, fantastically wealthy and overprotective stereotype, true, but I don't feel like he forces Mara into anything that truly matters. He does initially seem too interested in her, but there are reasons for that explained later. In a lot of ways, Mara's the more powerful person in the relationship and Noah's the nice one once he opens up a bit. I wouldn't say that I ship them, really, but I don't want to strangle Noah either.

The characterization in Mara Dyer is rocky. Obviously, Mara's not in a healthy mental place at any point in the novel, as she suffers from PTSD after her friends' deaths. Plus, she's hallucinating and generally not sure of anything. It's not a good place from which to get to know her true character. Pretty much the only thing I know and really like about her is that she likes to protect animals, but even that seems somewhat inconsistent. Noah, too, doesn't ever really jump off the page. He's interesting, but seems somewhat contradictory at various points throughout the book. I also, because I'm me, really loathe the fact that he smokes, which seems like an incredibly unnecessary thing to add and only romanticizes a filthy habit. Oh, also, he needs to stop attacking every guy who says anything flirty to Mara. While it can be attractive for a guy to have the strength to defend you, it's certainly not hot to assume you require that protection and starting shit over minor incidents will really only endanger the girl than protect her in the long run.

My favorite character doesn't get a whole lot of screen time, but I hope he comes back in the next two books. Jamie Roth is hilarious and one of the only people in the school not to subscribe to the social hierarchy accepted at their pretentious private school. Plus, he's bisexual AND a POC (as I believe Mara is as well, actually). He's by far the most interesting character in the book and I only wish it was more about him.

Like the characterization, I think the writing is a bit clunky. The transitions, especially, were off somehow, with inconsistent switches between memories, dreams and the present. Much of the dialog felt stilted. The writing as whole was pretty decent, but Hodkin has quite a bit of room to develop her prose. This being her debut, I don't think it's a bad showing.

I'm really all over the place with this book, but what it comes down to is that I'm captivated by the plot and have to know where it's going. I'm not sure why it worked more for me than others, except perhaps a certain weakness for particular plots.

Rating: 3/5

Favorite Quote:

"'Your level of neuroses would only find love in a made-for-TV movie.'"

---

Up Next:

The next Sadie Hawkins Sunday book will be Across a Star-Swept Sea by Diana Peterfreund! I've enjoyed all of Peterfreund's books that I've read so far, so hopefully this one will go well too!

Want to tell me what to read? Fill out the following form with a suggestion! For more details, check this post.

Review + Giveaway: The Husband's Secret

The Husband's Secret

Author: Liane Moriarty
Pages: 416
Publisher: Amy Einhorn Books
Publication Date: July 30, 2013
Read: July 23-28, 2013
Source: ARC from publisher at BEA

Description from Goodreads:
At the heart of The Husband’s Secret is a letter that’s not meant to be read

My darling Cecilia, if you’re reading this, then I’ve died. . . .

Imagine that your husband wrote you a letter, to be opened after his death. Imagine, too, that the letter contains his deepest, darkest secret—something with the potential to destroy not just the life you built together, but the lives of others as well. Imagine, then, that you stumble across that letter while your husband is still very much alive. . . . Cecilia Fitzpatrick has achieved it all—she’s an incredibly successful businesswoman, a pillar of her small community, and a devoted wife and mother. Her life is as orderly and spotless as her home. But that letter is about to change everything, and not just for her: Rachel and Tess barely know Cecilia—or each other—but they too are about to feel the earth-shattering repercussions of her husband’s secret.

Acclaimed author Liane Moriarty has written a gripping, thought-provoking novel about how well it is really possible to know our spouses—and, ultimately, ourselves.

First Sentence: "It was all because of the Berlin Wall."

Review:

To say that I was surprised by the quality and beauty of The Husband's Secret would be an understatement. In fact, I almost didn't pick Moriarty's novel up at BEA, but did so at the behest of a publicist, one whose name I wish I'd noted so that I could thank her. My hesitance to read The Husband's Secret stemmed from the cover (which bears an unfortunate resemblance to that of Black City) and the blurb (which makes the novel sound like a stereotypical novel about infidelity). If either of these reasons are holding you back, do not let them as The Husband's Secret is women's fiction at its finest.

The basic premise, the one that the blurb points to, is a sort of retelling of Pandora's box, a woman's life transfigured when she opens something she perhaps oughtn't. On a basic level, this is true. Cecilia Fitzpatrick does find a letter addressed to her to be opened on the event of her husband John-Paul's death. She calls him to ask about it, and he makes her promise not to open it. She agrees, but secrets it away curious. When John-Paul comes home early from his business trip and ventures in the middle of the night into the attic, which he avoids due to claustrophobia, to claim the letter, Cecilia pulls it from its hiding place and reads. From this moment, a certain chaos does enter the world, and lives and marriages are tested.

What the blurb only barely hints at is that this story is not just about Cecilia. Tess and Rachel are but a footnote of the blurb, but they have equal share in the story of The Husband's Secret. Though initially not tied together seemingly in any way, the lives of the three weave together inexorably as the pages pass. The story is a dark one, moving and gorgeously-written.

Though the subject matter may be a bit melodramatic, I found the story endlessly compelling and it almost made me cry, which is the equivalent of saying most readers will want to keep a box of tissues handy; I am not one who cries easily. Despite the scale of the drama within, The Husband's Secret actually feels quite down to earth, thanks to the personalities of these three women who inhabit its pages. Rachel, Tess, and Cecilia are all good women, whose lives have been thrown off kilter by personal tragedies, past or present.

Cecilia does it all. She's a brilliant wife, mother, homemaker, and brings in a hefty income doing Tupperware parties. She appears to other women, like Rachel and Tess, as one of those women who has everything together, and who has been blessed in life. Cecilia's three daughters are bright and affectionate. She and her husband love one another deeply, and have, until very recently, always had a very satisfying sex life. Opening the later, though, must change everything, one way or another. And, no, the letter's not about a secret affair.

Tess, like Cecilia, is a woman of vast achievement. She's a successful account manager for the advertising company she runs with her husband, Will, and cousin (also best friend) Felicity. Her son, Liam, is the source of some concern, as he is being bullied at school, but otherwise life is happy. One day, out of the blue, Will and Felicity sit her down to explain that they've fallen in love. Tess, questioning both of her relationships, leaves their home in Melbourne and takes Liam to Sydney, where they stay with her mother and he can attend a school his bully does not attend. In this break from her day-to-day life, Tess has space to evaluate what role Felicity has always played in her life and what she wants her life to be from here on out.

Rachel, a grandmother, has been a largely unhappy woman ever since her daughter Janie was murdered, strangled to death and left in a park, the murderer never located and brought to justice. She's always suspected Connor Whitby, but has no proof. Her one small joy in life, her grandson, will soon be wrested from her, as her son, Rob, and daughter-in-law, Lauren, are moving to New York City. With this announcement, Rachel descends even more heavily into her desire for closure in Janie's case.

All three women are likable and sympathetic, even when they make choices that aren't necessarily good ones. They face moral dilemmas with no good solution, and just try to muddle through. The Husband's Secret really considers whether choices should be made to protect the children or because they are morally right. Though I can't say that I'm necessarily in agreement with the way that each storyline wrapped up, each woman is so well-characterized that the routes they take do make sense.

Powerful, heart-wrenching literary fiction with a focus on women, The Husband's Secret is a lavish novel. Bear the warning of the Pandora comparison in mind, for the the tale is not a happy one. Liane Moriarty's writing and characterization have convinced me to add the rest of her adult novels to my to-read list. I can only hope I find them as moving and well done as this one.

Rating: 4.5/5

Favorite Quote: "Marriage was a form of insanity; love hovering on the edge of aggravation."

Giveaway:
In my continuing quest to share my very favorite reads with readers across the world, I'm offering an international giveaway for a hardback of The Husband's Secret. The book will be shipped via The Book Depository, so as long as they ship to your country, you can win!
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Review: The Milk of Birds

The Milk of Birds

Author: Sylvia Whitman
Pages: 384
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers
Read: May 5-9, 2013
Source: YA Books Central for Review

Description from Goodreads:
This timely, heartrending novel tells the moving story of a friendship between two girls: one an American teen, one a victim of the crisis in Darfur.

Know that there are many words behind the few on this paper...

Fifteen-year-old Nawra lives in Darfur, Sudan, in a camp for refugees displaced by the Janjaweed’s trail of murder and destruction. Nawra cannot read or write, but when a nonprofit organization called Save the Girls pairs her with an American donor, Nawra dictates her thank-you letters. Putting her experiences into words begins to free her from her devastating past—and to brighten the path to her future.

K. C. is an American teenager from Richmond, Virginia, who hates reading and writing—or anything that smacks of school. But as Nawra pours grief and joy into her letters, she inspires K. C. to see beyond her own struggles. And as K. C. opens her heart in her responses to Nawra, she becomes both a dedicated friend and a passionate activist for Darfur.

In this poetic tale of unlikely sisterhood, debut author Sylvia Whitman captures the friendship between two girls who teach each other compassion and share a remarkable bond that bridges two continents.

First Sentence: "The khawaja moves down the line where Adeeba and I wait for water."

Review:

In The Milk of Birds, Sylvia Whitman touches on subject matter rarely seen in YA fiction, and I want to applaud her for that. This novel deals with tough subjects (divorce, genocide, rape, learning disorders, and more), but retains an overarching sense of hope. On closing the finishing page, I was sad that this our world, but also touched by the inspiring story within. Whitman handles all of this well, keeping the focus small, on the daily lives of these two girls, Nawra in Darfur and K.C. in Richmond.

Signed up to participate in the charity Save the Girls, K.C. initially wants none of it, too busy worrying about her parents' divorce and her plummeting grades. In fact, K.C. refuses to respond to Nawra's first few letters, until Save the Girls contacts her to find out why she's not been sending letters, which has been making Nawra feel sad. K.C.'s mom offers to write the letters if need be, but K.C. finally steps up to the plate and does it herself, unable to stand the idea of her mom's terrible imitation of her going out into the world.

I give you this small summary to explain what I liked best about The Milk of Birds. The scale of it and the portrayals are so honest. K.C. is an average girl, and, like most kids, the last thing she wants to do when she gets home from school is do more "homework," which is how the pen pal thing feels to her at first. Watching K.C. slowly lose her reluctance to write the letters is so moving, especially when, by the time the year of correspondence comes to a close, K.C. keeps writing letters for her last package, unable to say goodbye.

If you're hoping to learn a lot about the big picture in Darfur, The Milk of Birds isn't the place to get it. Through Nawra, Whitman offers a view to the life of one girl. It's not a broad perspective, but a narrow one. Nawra's life has been just . . . there's not really a word sufficient to describe the horrors she's lived through. Whitman does not shy away from the harsh realities like female circumcision, rape, hunger, or murder. As expected, this is not a light read. That said, Whitman definitely doesn't add in any more than is necessary; she tells it like it is, and that is shock enough.

Nawra is so strong in the face of her life that it is simply incredible. Despite everything, her tone in the letters is so sweet and cheery and hopeful. Though K.C.'s problems are nothing compared to Nawra's, Nawra worries about K.C., and offers kind advice. The unselfishness Nawra shows is beautiful, as are the sayings she uses.

K.C. grows a lot in her correspondence with Nawra, but perhaps not as much as you would think. Her arc is rather more realistic than is traditional in fiction. At the end, K.C. is not utterly transfigured by her correspondence with Nawra, but she is a bit more confident, much more loving, and incredibly determined to do something to help Darfur. Still, K.C.'s focus all along has been on her own issues. K.C. loves Nawra and wants to help, but she doesn't ever stop worrying about her crush on the boy she likes or her issues with her parents or her issues with learning. Again, this felt very believable, because, no matter how much perspective she has, she has to live her own life. Also, I love that Whitman touched on learning disorders, because that's not something I've often seen in YA novels.

The only reason my rating isn't higher is that The Milk of Birds moved very slowly for me. Much as I am impressed by the characters of Nawra and K.C., I didn't ever connect with them on an emotional level, except, perhaps, at the very end. The more I think about The Milk of Birds, the more I like it, but it was a slow, tough read for me. At the same time, I am so very glad I read it, and I think that a lot of the difficult reads are important ones.

The Milk of Birds is a slow-moving, powerful read that's heart-breakingly honest and realistic. Whitman deftly tackles more dark subjects than can usually be handled in a single book, but The Milk of Birds never strays into melodrama. The Milk of Birds is a read to inspire the reader to want to make a difference in the world, showing how even just a monthly letter can make an appreciable difference in someone else's life.

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote: "I will let Adeeba rest her hand, but know that there are many words behind the few on this paper."

Review: Heart of Glass

Heart of Glass
Cross My Heart, Book 2

Author: Sasha Gould
Pages: 336
Publisher: Delacorte Books for Young Readers
Read: April 28-May 5, 2013
Source: YA Books Central for review

Description from Goodreads:
In a society of liars, who do you trust?

It is 1585 in Venice, and three months have passed since Laura della Scala solved her sister's murder after joining the Segreta, a powerful society of women who trade protection for secrets. Now Laura is engaged to her true love, Roberto, and she has never been happier. But the night Laura is sent on her first important mission for the Segreta, Roberto is found with the body of a dead woman in his room. Halim, an irresistibly handsome Turkish prince on a diplomatic visit to the city, identifies the woman as his sister and insists that Roberto be executed for her murder, or the Ottoman Empire will attack Venice. Laura is desperate to save both her city and her fiancé. But as the evidence against Roberto builds and Laura finds herself increasingly drawn to Halim, she begins to wonder whether everything Roberto told her was a lie. What Laura discovers is a conspiracy that involves nearly everyone she knows.

Previous Book in Series:
1: Cross My Heart

First Sentence: "I gaze down the length of the narrow blade at my enemy."

Review:
There are, to my mind, two basic kinds of historical fiction: those that endeavor to be historically accurate and those that really don't, merely using the lavish historical backdrop to entertain. Personally, I like both kinds. The only time the latter's not good is when it has pretensions to being history as well as historical fiction, and teaches readers a bunch of incorrect information. Heart of Glass falls into the latter camp, and, from what I can tell, the political maneuverings of the novel have no bearing on reality. However, it's also a fun, engaging story and written to uphold the power of women, so I really don't mind that I'm not learning Venetian history from its pages.

Sasha Gould built this series around an awesome historically inaccurate idea she had:Venice run behind the scenes by a secret society of women. While there may not be a historical basis for this, I am all kinds of behind this kind of alternative history endeavor. All throughout history, there have been women behind the scenes affecting the course of history through their husbands, but, here, Gould is bringing them together and making them a more independent force.

These women endeavor to keep rocky Venetian politics more stable and less affected by the changes in power. They aim to be more fair and to help Venice, rather than an individual's political aims. I love that the Segreta are shown as powerful in many ways: physically skilled with weaponry, clever, and influential. Laura herself is a perfect example of this, determined, caring and strong. I like that's actually intelligent and puts thought into her actions, not always reacting solely with emotion.

However, much as I love this uplifting of women, I did think that Laura was a bit too powerful. She's engaged to the Doge's son, so she is very high in society, but I still doubt that the male councillors would ask her opinion on things. Certainly they would not with a bunch of other men in the room. The amount that even men respect her at her tender age seems rather out of place.

The only other drawback for me was the villains. Much of the mystery is very obvious and the villains have no real motivations other than grasping for power or unclear revenge. I prefer there to be a bit more depth to a villain. They ought to be somewhat understandable at least, if not relatable. Heart of Glass could have been more nuanced and had a better impact were that the case.

Heart of Glass is engaging from beginning to end, and I never found myself bored or my attention wandering. It's a very quick read, and those who enjoyed Cross My Heart will certainly want to read this one as well. The ending left room for another book, and I suspect I'll be reading that one too!

Rating: 3/5

Favorite Quote: "'Would you have me silenced?' I demand. 'Or Emilia? Are you saying we don't deserve a voice because we wear dresses? For shame, brother. I thought better of you.'"

Review: The Sword Dancer

The Sword Dancer

Author: Jeannie Lin
Pages: 288
Publisher: Harlequin
Publication Date: May 21, 2013
Source: Author for review

Description from Goodreads:
Sword dancer Li Feng is used to living life on the edge of the law—a woman alone in the dangerous world of the Tang Dynasty has only her whirlwind reflexes to trust. She will discover the truth about her past, even if that means outwitting the most feared thief-catcher of them all...

Relentless, handsome and determined, Han sees life—and love—as black and white. Until he finally captures the spirited, courageous Li Feng, who makes him question everything he thought he knew about right and wrong. Soon he's faced with an impossible choice: betray the elusive sword dancer he is learning to love, or trust his long-disregarded heart and follow her to dangerous, tempting rebellion...

First Sentence: "A lone reed flute sang the opening melody."

Review:

It's no secret that I'm a wee bit obsessed with Asian culture. If a book is set in Asia, whether modern or historical, I'm probably going to be intrigued. Also, I must admit a fondness for romance plots in an Asian setting, due both to my teenage love for the novel Shogun and my adoration of manga/manhwa. With my first read by Jeannie Lin, I get to travel to historical China in a read full of romance and adventure.

Jeannie Lin's The Sword Dancer surprised me in a great way. The relationship herein depicted deviates from the standard fictional romance formula in ways that make me so, so very happy. Though the arc of Han and Li Feng's relationship is rather predictable (which isn't really a bad thing, since romantic reads aren't really ones you go to for twists), the relationship dynamics are non-standard and fistbump-worthy.

Neither Li Feng nor Han is incredibly gorgeous. They're not unattractive, and they certainly find one another quite appealing, but they're not the stereotypical blemish-free, wanted-by-everyone characters found so often in fiction. At first, Han finds Li Feng a bit plain, but her beauty, as his does, comes from the person inside the body: "Her face was one that Han might never have noticed if he hadn't seen her dance. Like the rest of her, its beauty was in movement" (35). Now, obviously, that is about her physically, but beauty in movement is such a perfect descriptor for Li Feng, who never stops going. At that point he hardly knows her, but I think it encapsulates why he likes her so much and why she's so compelling to him, because of what she does and not how she looks.

Lin resists more stereotypes with the character of Li Feng. She's strong, fast, and clever. Wanted as a thief, Han, a thief-catcher, apprehends her early on, but she escapes from prison. Though Han is physically stronger than she is, she often bests him, because of her quick wits, speed, and flexibility. As he comes to care for her, Han retains this understanding of and respect for Li Feng's skills. He doesn't try to change her or make her act like a proper lady, and he trusts her to keep herself safe without him looming over her for protection.

Plus, Li Feng is no blushing virgin to be taken by the manly man, thank goodness. In fact, Li Feng is the aggressor in the physical portion of their relationship, with Han unsure if he's emotionally prepared for sex. On the other hand, Han pursues an emotional connection, and Li Feng's not so sure about that. The traditional gender roles got turned on their head, which always makes me joyous. All women don't want commitment; some men are not always emotionally prepared for sex. Seeing this reflected in fiction gives me a happy.

Li Feng and Han do also have a pretty convincing connection, what with the mutual respect and all. Their personalities and interests are similar, and they do seem like a good match. Still, I do prefer romances that take longer to grow. Most of The Sword Dancer takes place within the span of two weeks or so. I just prefer a slower burn myself.

Of course, the book also isn't all romance. In fact, I'd say that Lin's heart lies in the action scenes which pepper the book. There are sex scenes if that's what you're looking for, but they're outnumbered by scenes of daring acrobatic leaps and sword fights and so forth. There's also a murder mystery and government corruption and Li Feng's forgotten past to untangle.

If you enjoy romances in a unique, lush setting and full of exciting action scenes, Jeannie Lin's The Sword Dancer will likely tickle your fancy. I enjoyed myself and will be adding some more of Lin's books to my to-read list.

Rating: 3/5

Favorite Quote:

"'I proved to be a very poor scholar,' he concluded, cutting his explanation short.
     'How so?'
     'Well, once for my daily lessons, I wrote a single line that read, "I do not want to be a high-ranking official."'"

Review: Tuesday's Gone

Tuesday's Gone
Frieda Klein, Book 2

Author: Nicci French
Pages: 384
Publisher: Pamela Dorman Books
Publication Date: April 4, 2013
Source: Publisher for review

Description from Goodreads:
Internationally bestselling authors Nicci Gerard and Sean French, writing as Nicci French, have sold more than eight million copies of their books worldwide. But nothing they’ve written written before has grabbed the attention of reviewers and readers like Blue Monday and its iconic heroine, Frieda Klein. In a starred review, Publishers Weekly called it a “superb psychological thriller . . . with brooding atmosphere, sustained suspense, a last-minute plot twist, and memorable cast of characters.”

In Tuesday’s Gone, a London social worker makes a routine home visit only to discover her client, Michelle Doyce, serving afternoon tea to a naked, decomposing corpse. With no clues as to the dead man’s identity, Chief Inspector Karlsson again calls upon Frieda for help. She discovers that the body belongs to Robert Poole, con man extraordinaire. But Frieda can’t shake the feeling that the past isn’t done with her yet. Did someone kill Poole to embroil her in the investigation? And if so, is Frieda herself the next victim?

A masterpiece of paranoia, Tuesday’s Gone draws readers inexorably into a fractured and faithless world as it brilliantly confirms Frieda Klein as a quintessential heroine for our times.

Prior Book in Series:
1: Blue Monday

First Sentence: "Maggie Brennan half walked, half ran along Deptford Church Street."

Review:

Ordinarily, I'm not much for mystery novels, and I read them only infrequently, since otherwise I get really bored with the predictable plotting, though it's not like romance stories are any less predictable and I still read those by the dozens. It may not make much logical sense, but this is how I feel. Anyway, I accepted a review request for the first book in this series, Blue Monday, sort of on a whim, and was surprised to find how much I enjoyed it. Tuesday's Gone steps up the tension of the Frieda Klein series and proves a very satisfying followup.

One of the things I really liked about Blue Monday was Frieda Klein herself, and she's still awesome. Frieda's so perceptive and a bit icy on the outside. She's a great listener but loathes talking about herself, or anything getting personal. Personal relationships are hard for her, and she keeps people at a distance. What I find so delightful about Frieda is that she's not a stereotypical woman; she can't be put into a box.

The mystery elements are well done, and several plot twists actually caught me completely off guard. The murder mystery is a seriously tangled web, but French pulls them together admirably. On top of the mystery arc for this installment, the big bad of the series as a whole is revealed, a person from Frieda's past. While there's not a whole lot of development with the larger arc, oh my goodness is it creepy, and I'm excited for the direction the series is headed, using the plot structure from the first two seasons of Veronica Mars, with the full series overarching plot and individual mysteries per volume. This works so well, because it keeps the reader's interest engaged in the larger story and makes reading them as standalones less desirable.

The one thing I found odd was that Frieda, who's consulting with the police in this murder investigation, goes around telling freaking EVERYONE about the work she's doing. I mean, come on, Frieda! She's smart enough to know better than that. Sure, sometimes she's doing so to feel people out, but she also tells some friends, and that's just not done, or at least I don't think it is. Especially since Frieda's generally so resistant to sharing information, I found this out of place.

I'm going to keep this short, since there's only so much to be said about mysteries without spoiling the plot. Basically, if you like mysteries, check out the Frieda Klein series, because it's well done, has a strong heroine, and features intriguing plot twists.

Rating: 4/5

Favorite Quote:

"'How do you deal with it all?'
     'I'm not sure that I really do.' She twisted her glass round. 'It's like winter. I just trudge through, head down, and hope that spring won't be delayed.'"

Review: Dr. Frankenstein's Daughters

Dr. Frankenstein's Daughters

Author: Suzanne Weyn
Pages: 247
Publisher: Scholastic Press
Source: YA Books Central for Review

Description from Goodreads:
A new generation is creating a monster....

Giselle and Ingrid are the twin daughters of Doctor Victor Frankenstein, but they are very different people, and when they inherit his castle in the Orkney Islands, Giselle dreams of holding parties and inviting society -- but Ingrid is fascinated by her father's forbidden experiments.

First Sentence: "What unbearable guilt!"

Review:
No matter my opinions on the source material, I cannot resist retellings. I read Mary Shelley's Frankenstein in high school, and I loathed pretty much every bit of it. Perhaps I might be able to appreciate its wordiness and lack of action more now, but, at the time, it was torture. Suzanne Weyn's novel picks up some time after Frankenstein concludes, following his daughters, in a very different kind of story.

Where Frankenstein consists of a lot of endless descriptions and foliage, Weyn substitutes the castle and mysterious murders to create the gothic feeling of the original. Weyn also does a good job of simulating the language of the time. It's a bit stilted occasionally, but largely well done. The narration switches between Giselle's and Ingrid's journal entries, and the two narratives are kept distinct by the entirely different interests held by the two girls.

The major theme in Dr. Frankenstein's Daughters, as with Frankenstein, is that of madness. With the two Frankenstein girls, Weyn highlights two different kinds of madness, with the most obvious being the madness of obsession in scientific discovery. The desire for knowledge, to know whether something can be done without considering whether it should be done, runs through Ingrid, the smart twin, just as it ran through Victor.

Though much of Dr. Frankenstein's Daughters moved at a pretty sedate pace, again akin to the original, the ending is quite shocking. The first half focused largely on romance, and it seemed less a retelling and more a historical romance with a needless reference to Shelley's creations. In the second half, Weyn really sells it, and the shift is startling in a good way. I did not expect her to end things quite as she did, and it's nice to be surprised by a book.

Unfortunately, the novel has a major flaw in my opinion. Though I do not think it is Weyn's intention to do so, I do not like the treatment of female characters in the novel. Besides Giselle and Ingrid, there is only one other female character who gets a line. The girls are on this isolated island, but meet multiple attractive men. Yet, somehow, they do not meet any women. I do not like the message this sends that aside from our heroines, females really are not important. Though perhaps I should be grateful that the two girls are the only ones to receive any sort of character development; all those multitudes of men are flat as pancakes.

The only other woman to have a voice is Mary Shelley. Weyn has done what so many retellers like to do: brought the author into her story. This is, actually, one of my least favorite literary devices. An author chooses to retell a story, most likely because of a great respect and admiration of the original work and its creator. Generally, the author is brought in as a character to be inspired by the scenes he/she witnesses, and to then go on and write their famous work. Am I the only one who finds this incredibly insulting to the original author, diminishing the power of their imagination to that of a chronicler?

Dr. Frankenstein's Daughters is a quick read that becomes progressively darker as the pages fly by. This will be a good read for those who appreciate gothic narratives, but don't want to wade through 400 pages of dense prose.

Rating: 2.5/5

Favorite Quote: "I read and read without ever being bored as long as there is daylight."

Review + Giveaway: The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow

The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow

Author: Rita Leganski
Pages: 400
Publisher: Harper Paperbacks
Source: Publisher via TLC Book Tours

Description from Goodreads:
Bonaventure Arrow didn’t make a peep when he was born, and the doctor nearly took him for dead. But he was only listening, placing sound inside quiet and gaining his bearings. By the time he is five, he can hear flowers grow, a thousand shades of blue, and the miniature tempests that rage inside raindrops. One day, Bonaventure’s world is shaken by anguished voices he’s never heard before–voices that trace back to a note written by his mother, Dancy, and to a peculiar relic owned by his Grand-mère Letice. When Bonaventure removes the note and the relic from where they’ve been hidden, he opens two doors to the past and finds the key to a web of secrets that both hold his family together, and threaten to tear them apart. Set against the background of 1950s New Orleans and the fictional town of Bayou Cymbaline, The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is rich with the character of a culture that overflows with conjured charms and sanctified spirits. It takes readers from a gumbo joint on Atchafaylaya Road to a sinister house in New Orleans to the interior of the Arrow family crypt. A magical debut novel about the lost art of listening and a wondrous little boy who brings healing to the souls of all who love him in this story of forgiveness and redemption.

First Sentence: "Bonaventure Arrow didn't make a peep when he was born, and the doctor nearly took him for dead."

Review:

Okay book, I'm pretty sure it was me and not you. Listen, I saw you and you were beautiful, and I wanted you right away. I couldn't resist your allure, your magical realism. I had to have you in my life. Now, though, I realize that I should have gotten to know you better first, before we committed to one another in any meaningful way. You really are beautiful inside and out, but just not in a way I can fully appreciate.

What I can say is that the writing in The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is beautiful. Simply lovely. Leganski's writing style plays into the feeling of magical realism perfectly, and the way she puts together sentences has a magic all its own. Her debut proves her writing chops, and I would be willing to consider reading whatever her next novel is, solely on the strength of her prose.

The book's opening captured me immediately, reminding me a good deal of Fitzgerald's short story "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" mixed with the southern charm of Sarah Addison Allen. The idea of a child, mute but intended for some big purpose, seems fraught with possibility. Unfortunately, the story then jumps back and spends almost the whole of the novel in the backstory of his mother and grandmothers. I never did find myself especially interested in any character but Bonaventure Arrow himself, and he didn't turn out to be much of a focus in the novel.

Bonaventure, in addition to being silent, has super hearing. He can hear everything, from falling stars to his father's ghost. Supposedly, this will allow him to do something quite special and live up to his saintly name. His counterpart of sorts, in the sense that they both have special abilities, is Trinidad, a much older black woman. She sees visions, Knowings, and practices hoodoo, which allows her to help people with natural herbs. Her hoodoo is remarkably similar to the effects of Vianne's chocolates in Chocolat. These elements are fantastic, but I don't feel like they served any actual purpose to the plot whatsoever. They seem merely to be there to make the setting more vibrant.

Actually, the only real plot seems to involve Bonaventure's father. William dies before Bonaventure's birth, shot by a mysterious, insane man. His mother and wife are trying to allay their guilt, the former by trying to figure out the identity of his killer. Meanwhile, William, in some sort of purgatory, watches over his family, and communicates with his son. The whole book seems mostly to be about him moving on to the next world. Rather than magical realism, this is much more of a ghost story.

What lost me, most heartily though, was all of the Christianity in the novel. No, it's not preachy, but it's incredibly boring. As I said, I couldn't be bothered about the backstory of the grandmothers, and their pasts are all wrapped up in their fervent religious beliefs. Every character isn't Christian, and it doesn't seem like Leganski's trying to say anything about it, but I just had no fucks to give about any of it. Like so much else in the novel, I just don't see why I had to sit through all of that when it doesn't seem to have had a big impact on the plot overall.

The Silence of Bonaventure Arrow is a gorgeously-written novel, but suffers from a weak plot that tries to do too many things without tying them together. I might read more Leganski someday, but this one did not work for me.

Rating: 2/5

Favorite Quote: "'It's part of reaching the age of reason. As you get older, you figure out a lot of things with your mind, and you get better and better at it. But one day you realize that some things can't be figured out at all, no matter how old you are or how much you use your mind, and then you just have to listen to your heart.'"

Giveaway:
Though TSoBA didn't work for me, you still might love it (and what better way to try than a free copy). Harper sent me two copies, so I'm passing one along to a reader (and one to a friend). US/CAN only. Fill out the Rafflecopter to enter.

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Review: The Death of Bees

The Death of Bees

Author: Lisa O'Donnell
Pages: 336
Publisher: Harper
Source: Publisher via TLC Book Tours

Description from Goodreads:
A riveting, brilliantly written debut novel-a coming-of-age story with the strong voice and powerful resonance of Swamplandia! and The Secret Life of Bees-in which two young sisters attempt to hold the world at bay after the mysterious death of their parents.

Today is Christmas Eve. Today is my birthday. Today I am fifteen. Today I buried my parents in the backyard. Neither of them were beloved.

Marnie and her little sister Nelly are on their own now. Only they know what happened to their parents, Izzy and Gene, and they aren't telling. While life in Glasgow's Hazlehurst housing estate isn't grand, they do have each other. Besides, it's only one year until Marnie will be considered an adult and can legally take care of them both.

As the new year comes and goes, Lennie, the old man next door, realizes that his young neighbors are alone and need his help. Or does he need theirs? But he's not the only one who suspects something isn't right. Soon, the sisters' friends, their other neighbors, the authorities, and even Gene's nosy drug dealer begin to ask questions. As one lie leads to another, dark secrets about the girls' family surface, creating complications that threaten to tear them apart.

Written with fierce sympathy and beautiful precision, told in alternating voices, The Death of Bees is an enchanting, grimly comic tale of three lost souls who, unable to answer for themselves, can answer only for each other.

First Sentence: "Eugene Doyle. Born 19 June 1972. Died 17 December 2010, aged thirty-eight."

Review:

For those of you who don't know, I have a sizable obsession with British pop culture. When I signed up for the tour, I, admittedly, didn't know how British this book is, but when I figured that out, oh my, was I ever excited. As odd as this book is, I can compare it to a couple of things. To get The Death of Bees, combine the darker, more disturbing family elements of Shameless with the murder and hijinks of Keeping Mum. If you appreciate the sort of dark humour that Brits excel at, do not miss O'Donnell's brilliantly odd debut.

One of my very favorite narrative styles is multiple first person points of view, but finding one done correctly happens rarely. O'Donnell succeeds with her first novel. The Death of Bees rotates through three perspectives: the two sisters, Marnie and Nelly, and their neighbor, Lennie. Each one of them has a very distinct personality and thought pattern. Telling them apart is quite simple. The narratives are stream of consciousness, and, thus, occasionally quite strange, like the section in which Nelly is singing a song to herself. Though not generally a fan of stream of consciousness style writing, O'Donnell wields this method well.

Marnie and Nelly's parents are useless, on the dole and drug-addicted, the father abusive. When both parents die, in somewhat sketchy circumstances, Marnie and Nelly do the obvious thing: bury them in the background in the middle of winter. Well, actually, the ground's really hard and they got tired, so they just get Gene buried and leave Izzy in the shed for a while. They plant strong-smelling lavender atop Gene's grave, in an effort to cover the stench. Because they bury the body too shallowly, and the other not at all, the neighbor's dog keeps coming over and trying to find the bodies, a continual source of worry for the girls.

Many of the scenes in The Death of Bees, particularly early on, are of a fairly graphic nature. The body-disposal chapters will haunt me for quite a while. If you cannot handle descriptions of fluids and ickiness, this book may not be for you. This is comedy of the very darkest colour. The book also includes drug use, statutory rape, abuse, and probably some other touchy subjects I'm forgetting to list.

Marnie and Nelly were thinking when they buried their parents in the backyard; they did not want to be put into foster care, an inevitability, so better to pretend their parents are on a perpetual vacation. Lennie, their nosy but well-intentioned neighbor notices that they seem to be all alone. An old man living alone after the death of his lover and harassed because he was caught trying to solicit a male prostitute, Lennie desperately desires company, and he adopts the two girls, unofficially serving as guardian and grandfather to them. He gives them the first real parenting they've probably ever gotten.

Marnie is a brilliant girl, pulling straight As, despite the fact that she never does homework and runs with a bad crowd. She's a sassy one, a both entertaining and tragic figure. With all her life experience, it's very difficult to fathom that she's only fifteen. Her sister, Nelly, on the other hand, acts incredibly posh, an affectation she picked up who knows where. She plays the violin with great skill and looks lovely, but is clearly touched in the head. Though Marnie makes a lot of disastrously terrible life choices, Nelly's the one you really have to worry about, because there is some seriously crazy stuff happening in her mind.

O'Donnell's debut plumbs dark depths of humanity, showing both the best and worst of human interaction. This is an ideal read for those with a slightly morbid sense of humor.

Rating: 4/5

Favorite Quote: "My guidance teacher Mrs. MacLeod (middle-aged yah trying to do good among the peasants of Maryhill) said the only thing keeping me from the abyss of total delinquency is my gift for learning. Like Nelly I appear to possess qualities she believes to be wasted on a girl 'so utterly destructive in temperament'—she actually wrote that in my report—meaning I smoke and drink and have abortions, actually one abortion, but still, I have an A average that I maintain with little or no effort on my part and they despise me for it, mostly because they can't take credit for it; in other words intelligence should be the reward of the virginal nonsmokers of the world, not some morally corrupt teenager with dead junkies in her back garden."

Review + Giveaway: Amelia Anne Is Dead and Gone

Amelia Anne Is Dead and Gone

Author: Kat Rosenfield
Pages: 279
Publisher: Dutton Juvenile
Source: Gifted ARC from YA Books Central

Description from Goodreads:
An arresting un-coming-of-age story, from a breathtaking talent

Becca has always longed to break free from her small, backwater hometown. But the discovery of an unidentified dead girl on the side of a dirt road sends the town--and Becca--into a tailspin. Unable to make sense of the violence of the outside world creeping into her backyard, Becca finds herself retreating inward, paralyzed from moving forward for the first time in her life.

Short chapters detailing the last days of Amelia Anne Richardson's life are intercut with Becca's own summer as the parallel stories of two young women struggling with self-identity and relationships on the edge twist the reader closer and closer to the truth about Amelia's death.

First Sentence: "The night before Amelia Anne Richardson bled her life away on a parched dirt road outside of town, I bled out my dignity in the back of a pickup truck under a star-pricked sky."

Review:

Oh, that awkward moment where you read a book that's come highly recommended to you from just about everyone you know and then you don't like the book. There seem to be a lot of times where I'm that guy: the one who goes against the grain of popular opinion. I could list a number of books my friends all loved that I didn't like much at all, as well as ones pretty much no one else cared for that I thought were fabulous. Honestly, it's frustrating this divide that leaves me agreeing with others no more than 3/4 of the time.

Though I did not particularly enjoy this book, I am not blind to its charms, so do allow me to start there. Kat Rosenfield has, no doubt, a marvelous career ahead of her. With the first sentence, I knew that I would love her writing, and I was right about that at least. If this is how well she writes a debut, she will be going big places. Her style perfectly matched the tone of the novel, a mood of hopelessness, of loss, and of confusion.

Also on the positive side, I give Rosenfield full credit for telling a unique story, one I have never seen the likes of in YA fiction. She parallels the lives of the titular Amelia Anne and Becca, born and raised in the town where Amelia Anne breathed her last. Both girls are in love, or think they are, with boys who fail to please them sexually. Both have big plans that they fear their boyfriends will not support. Amelia Anne graduated from college the same day that Becca graduated from high school. Amelia Anne died, stuck forever in some sense in this town where Becca dreads being trapped.

Moving into what I did not like now, I have to go back to the writing. Much as I loved the way Rosenfield phrased things and put together her sentences, I did not like the storytelling method she used. I did like getting to see both from Becca's perspective in the present and Amelia Anne's perspective in the days leading up to her death, although I really hate the way her chapters weren't given chapter numbers. What drove me crazy, however, was that the narration occasionally either switched to third person omniscient in Becca's section or that she was telling the story from some unidentified date in the future. The numbered chapters often included reflections on things Becca simply could not know or hints at knowledge she could not yet have possessed. These details detracted from the novel for me, rather than adding additional crucial knowledge.

Amelia Anne Is Dead and Gone is one of those books about terrible people. All of them, with the exception of Amelia Anne, are awful. I did not like a single one of them. Of course, sometimes authors can make this work, make you curious about characters you would happily hurl off a cliff. In this case, though, I just did not care about them. When the dramatic twists happened, instead of being shocked and excited, I was more like "whatever, can we please move this along?" and entirely bored with the whole thing. No matter how clever twists are, if you're not emotionally invested, they lack impact.

Were it not for the beauty of the writing, this rating would be a 2. Though I didn't like this, I urge you not to take this book off your list solely based on my review, as so many reviewers I trust implicitly loved it. As it is, I would read something else of Rosenfield's in a heartbeat, because of how incredibly talented I can tell she is.

Rating: 2.5/5 - solely for the writing

Favorite Quote: "Innocence can only last so long, especially the kind that comes from growing up sheltered by quiet neighborhoods, immaculate concrete sidewalks, so much nothingness for miles around. Kids riding plastic Big Wheel biked too fast down dead-end streets; spills taken on sharp corners; asphalt picked out of knees and elbows that bleed, scab over, then heal. Same faces, same streets, day in and day out, eyes that never witness anything more desolate than those empty, gravel-strewn country roads. And then, one day and all at once, the veil lifts."

Giveaway:
Since I know others have loved this, I am passing along my ARC to someone who will no doubt appreciate the book more than I do.
Some other reviews to check out in case mine doesn't make you want the book:
Wendy of The Midnight Garden: "One of my favorite books this year is definitely Kat Rosenfeld's Amelia Anne is Dead and Gone."
Jenni of Alluring Reads: "This is a fantastic story and one that I definitely feel I could read again and again and come away with something new each time."
Kelly J. of Stacked: "Amelia Anne is Dead and Gone is Kat Rosenfield's debut and it is a knock out."

US/CAN only. Just fill out THIS FORM and leave a comment on the review by December 26th.

Review: Paper Valentine

Paper Valentine

Author: Brenna Yovanoff
Pages: 368
Publisher: Razorbill
Publication Date: January 8, 2013
Source: Publisher for review

Description from Goodreads:
The city of Ludlow is gripped by the hottest July on record. The asphalt is melting, the birds are dying, petty crime is on the rise, and someone in Hannah Wagnor’s peaceful suburban community is killing girls.

For Hannah, the summer is a complicated one. Her best friend Lillian died six months ago, and Hannah just wants her life to go back to normal. But how can things be normal when Lillian’s ghost is haunting her bedroom, pushing her to investigate the mysterious string of murders? Hannah’s just trying to understand why her friend self-destructed, and where she fits now that Lillian isn’t there to save her a place among the social elite. And she must stop thinking about Finny Boone, the big, enigmatic delinquent whose main hobbies seem to include petty larceny and surprising acts of kindness.

With the entire city in a panic, Hannah soon finds herself drawn into a world of ghost girls and horrifying secrets. She realizes that only by confronting the Valentine Killer will she be able move on with her life—and it’s up to her to put together the pieces before he strikes again.

Paper Valentine is a hauntingly poetic tale of love and death by the New York Times bestselling author of The Replacement and The Space Between.

First Sentence: "My sister, Ariel, is sprawled upside down on the couch, pointing with the TV remote."

Review:
When I went to ALA in 2010, one of the numerous ARCs I picked up and took home, in a haze of disbelief that people would want to give me free books just because I was in training to be a librarian, was Yovanoff's debut novel The Replacement. The Penguin publicist I spoke to hyped it big time, I think because it was part of their Breathless Reads collection. Something I've learned about myself since is that I don't tend to be a huge fan of the most-hyped books put into those collections, though they do tend to do very well, they just are not my thing. Such was the case with The Replacement, which showed promise in the gothic tone and writing, but mostly fell flat. When I was sent a review copy of Paper Valentine, I really did not get that excited, but I did resolve to give Yovanoff another try, and I am so glad that I did, because she has grown a lot as a writer since her debut novel.

Ever since Lillian's death from anorexia, Hannah has been haunted by her best friend. Not by the memory of Lillian, no, but by her ghost. Lillian follows her around, giving her advice or criticizing her behavior, or both at the same time. Only Hannah can see Lillian, and, after six months of this, Hannah's pretty resigned to it, even though it can be an inconvenience and having ghost Lillian around isn't the same as having the real Lillian there.

Paper Valentine follows a lot of different plot lines, weaving them together expertly into a powerful novel. The first arc deals with friendship, with peer pressure, and with self-acceptance. Hannah and Lillian were incredibly close, best friends forever. They were also the most popular girls in school, making their own style and setting the trends. With Lillian gone, stuck with the rest of their group, now dominated by Angelie, Hannah's coming to realize that, much as she loved her, Lillian wasn't a very nice person all the time and that she could be a bad influence on Hannah. Watching Hannah come into her own as a person, both accepting the parts of herself wholly unlike Hannah and incorporating a bit of Hannah's advice made me so glad for her. Hannah needed a bit of Lillian's gumption, enough that she could tell off Angelie for being horrible and rude, but also needed to be Hannah-enough to not get too hung up on being popular.

Family, though a more minor thread certainly, still plays a crucial role in Paper Valentine. The parents are mostly absent, though the mother does ground Hannah for sneaking out and insist on meeting a boy before Hannah can go out with him. The relationship being dissected here is that of the two sisters, Hannah and Ariel. Though Ariel annoys her, understandably so, the two clearly have so much love for one another. Hannah can see how much Ariel tries to protect her and gets what Hannah is going through more than their mother and step-father do. I found their relationship touching, and loved that there was much more focus upon it than usual.

The book gets much creepier than just Lillian's ghost, however. Girls are being murdered, left in the park, heads bashed in, surrounded by the trappings of childhood, toys and candy. Next to each body is a paper heart. Needless to say Hannah will become wrapped up in the murders. Yovanoff does suspense and eerie settings very well, and there were some scenes that straight up freaked me out. What made Paper Valentine special, though, was how Hannah reacts when she finds herself in danger: she uses her brain and does not just collapse into a weeping heap waiting to be rescued. Unlike some heroines, she doesn't spend her doom-filled moments thinking of how much she loves some boy, but of ways to escape and of her sister and her dead best friend. As with when she fought back against bossy Angelie, Hannah held her own and refused to be cowed, and that just made me respect her and root for her so much.

Admittedly, I was quite skeptical of the romance at first, because I feared it was going straight down stereotype highway. See, Hannah has a secret crush on one of the bad boys. When we first see him, he's wearing a wife beater, even. He dyes his hair white-blonde with Clorox, has tattoos, and a missing pinkie. Early on, he shoplifts. I mean, not really swoon material. He never really does become the kind of guy I would swoon over, but Yovanoff makes him work, and I totally ended up shipping Hannah and Finny, who made me think a bit of Hanna and Caleb from Pretty Little Liars. Also, their romance reminded me a bit of Pushing the Limits too, only with less focus on romance, no pet names, and a murder mystery.

Yovanoff gives the reader a little bit of everything, and, after my lackluster first experience, I now plan to read The Space Between, her second novel, as well as whatever she has coming next. What a wonderful lesson in the importance of not writing an author off based on one book, especially a debut, because they have so much room to grow.

Rating: 4/5

Favorite Quote: "'It doesn't matter what you say,' she whispers. The words are icy, but her voice sounds almost sad, like she knows that whatever happens next is going to hurt. 'They're not going to believe you. No one ever believes teenage girls about things like whether or not the guy they're running around with is a killer. No one ever treats us like we know what we're talking about.'"

Review: Eyes to See

Eyes to See
Jeremiah Hunt, Book 1

Author: Joseph Nassise
Pages: 320
Publisher: Tor
Source: Publisher for review

Description from Goodreads:
In an urban fantasy that charts daring new territory in the field, Jeremiah Hunt has been broken by a malevolent force that has taken his young daughter and everything else of value in his life: his marriage, his career, his reputation. Desperate to reclaim what he has lost, Hunt finally turns to the supernatural for justice.

Abandoning all hope for a normal life, he enters the world of ghosts and even more dangerous entities from beyond the grave. Sacrificing his normal sight so that he can see the souls of the dead and the powers that stalk his worst nightmares, Hunt embarks upon a strange new career—a pariah among the living; a scourge among the dead; doomed to walk between the light of day and the deepest darkness beyond night.

His love for his departed daughter sustains him when all is most hopeless, but Hunt is cursed by something more evil than he can possibly imagine. As he descends into the maelstrom of his terrifying quest, he discovers that even his deepest fears are but prelude to yet darker deeds by a powerful entity from beyond the grave…that will not let him go until it has used him for its own nefarious purposes.

First Sentence: "I gave up my eyes in order to see more clearly."

Review:

Receiving an unsolicited review copy generally feels a bit terrifying, because there are a couple different ways that it can play out, several of them unfortunate. When I received King of the Dead, an unsolicited copy of the second book in a series I'd never even heard of, I was a bit concerned to say the least, as one of the issues with unsolicited books is squeezing them into an already fairly tight review schedule. Well, the publisher did contact me and offer me book one as well, if I didn't already have a copy, and, after looking at reviews, I accepted. Luckily, I enjoyed Eyes to See, and will not have to force myself through the sequel.

The opening chapters really snared me. Hunt lost his daughter Elizabeth, kidnapped away from him while she was playing the floor above. He never stopped searching for her or believing that she was still out there somewhere, waiting for him to find her. The experience completely changes him, taking him from some man that the reader only gets hints of into the man in this series. He now has the much more world-weary attitude that I've seen in other male-targeted paranormals.

So desperate was Jeremiah Hunt to locate his daughter that when he had a chance, however slim, that he might be able to locate her, he took it. As such, he sacrificed his eyesight, gaining instead a new kind of sight. He can no longer see anything in the light anymore, but has vision in the darkness, which is why he lives in a house with every window boarded up. With his new eyes, he can also see ghosts, and other paranormal creatures. Pretty much everything with his eyes was seriously fascinating to me, and, I thought, quite well thought out.

At the outset of the novel, Hunt has taken a job as an exorcist, something he does whenever he needs more money. He faces down a creepy poltergeist and establishes his snarky, people-hating tone here. I really like Jeremiah. He's sort of a mild guy, but still not a good person to mess with, mostly because he's resourceful and not quite as blind as everyone seems to think. Unlike most male protagonists in paranormal fantasy, he isn't much of a fighter; in physical confrontations, he generally comes off the worse for wear, which made him a much more unique character, I felt.

Of course, he quickly gets entangled into a murder investigation which ties in to Elizabeth's disappearance. Eyes to See clearly feels like the set up to a series, though it does wrap up nicely. I'll be really curious to see what direction Jeremiah goes in from here, as to whether the plot arc from this one will continue or if he will now wander around solving individual paranormal cases from book to book. Either could be great, I think, given Nassise's delightful writing style and strong characters.

For the most part, the narrative style worked quite well. The reader mostly gets Hunt's first person perspective. I found my attention waning a bit when the perspective shifted from him, however. Much as I might like Denise, I didn't feel that the one or two brief chapters from her third person limited perspective were entirely necessary. I felt that way even more so about the chapters from the killer's perspective, as well as from Stanton's. Has Nassise stuck to Hunt's past and present perspectives, I feel this might have been a stronger whole.

Fans of paranormal fantasy who don't want a focus on romance will delight in Nassise's Eyes to See. Though I haven't read them, so take this with a grain or cellar of salt, I suspect these might be a good read-a-like for The Dresden Files series. I shall be happily embarking on King of the Dead sometime within the next week.

Rating: 3.5/5

Favorite Quote:

"He was clearly nervous; his palm was damp with sweat, and it didn't take a genius to recognize that I unnerved him almost as much as did the events that had forced him to seek me out in the first place.
   Frankly, I didn't give a shit. Miss Congeniality, I was not."

Review: The Diviners

The Diviners
The Diviners, Book 1

Author: Libba Bray
Pages: 592
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Source: Nabbed at BEA

Description from Goodreads:
Evie O'Neill has been exiled from her boring old hometown and shipped off to the bustling streets of New York City--and she is pos-i-toot-ly thrilled. New York is the city of speakeasies, shopping, and movie palaces! Soon enough, Evie is running with glamorous Ziegfield girls and rakish pickpockets. The only catch is Evie has to live with her Uncle Will, curator of The Museum of American Folklore, Superstition, and the Occult--also known as "The Museum of the Creepy Crawlies." When a rash of occult-based murders comes to light, Evie and her uncle are right in the thick of the investigation. And through it all, Evie has a secret: a mysterious power that could help catch the killer--if he doesn't catch her first.

First Sentence: "In the town house at a fashionable address on Manhattan's Upper East Side, every lamp blazes."

Review:

Woohoo, I finally finished The Diviners. This thrills me both because it's insanely original and good, and because it's so incredibly long and took me forever. Partially, this was because it was my secondary book, but still...oof. Libba Bray has firmly cemented herself in my mind as an Awesome Author, both for her hilarious personality and her talented writing. Though I didn't like A Great and Terrible Beauty when I first read it ages ago, I loved Beauty Queens and now this one. Libba Bray is one of those authors with the remarkable ability to do something entirely new and astounding every time.

Though The Diviners was pretty slow-going for me, I really did pos-i-tute-ly love it. The storytelling style Bray uses appealed to me entirely. She tells the story in third person, but with a sort of magical realism flair to it, sometimes following a character and sometimes trailing the wind. This fit the story like a glove, and really set up the precise tone needed to pull this tale off.

On the downside, I wasn't entirely sold on Bray's use of multiple perspectives. I love them usually, whether third or first person, but it felt forced here. Basically, most of the book was Evie, with a smattering of chapters from Memphis' perspective, and then random bits of chapters following other characters/things. For the most part, the narration that didn't follow Evie found my mind wandering off course just a bit. I just feel like Memphis didn't do enough to justify his having such a large chunk of narrative relative to his importance.

The paranormal plot line, though clearly not yet fully-fledged, still opening up like a bud to become a bloom, delighted me too. Diviners have abilities, sort of like X-Men, which you know is totally one of my favorite things. Evie can see a bit of the past when touching objects. Memphis can heal. The powers are different for each individual and all fascinating. As I said, this was not as big a part of the book as you might expect yet, but will clearly be more central to the next installment.

Another aspect that Libba Bray gets just right is the creep factor. If you're someone who's scared by books, she will no doubt have you cowering into your blankets. Thankfully, I'm not bothered by horror in books (though I can't stomach it in the slightest in films), so it didn't scare me. I could still admire, however, her ability to create suspense and an eerie scene. I suspect that the story is told the way that it is precisely so we can pop over to the victims' points of view.

On top of that, I loved Evie. She starts out as this shallow, selfish girl, who I definitely still loved, but grows into this even more loveable girl throughout. I say that, but her core doesn't really change at all. She lets more of her good qualities shine through, but she's not magically a good girl or something; she still loves to party, to drink, to manipulate people and to be the center of attention. Evie is straight up hilarious, and I like that, much as she's a party girl, she really doesn't seem all that bothered about boys. Romance doesn't seem to matter to her all that much, except in the matchmaking sense, determined to help her straight-laced friend Mabel land her crush.

I never quite felt the same liking for any of the other characters that I did for Evie. Jericho and Will I like, but I don't know enough about them to be super invested. Memphis really does seem like a marvelously nice guy, but he just bored me, and I'm really creeped out by pretty much every other character in his story line. My least favorite character, though, by far was Sam. Intellectually, I know he's sort of the more messed-up, male version of Evie, but, for whatever reason, I just cannot stand him. Maybe I just can't get over the fact that he stole from Evie when he first met or how freaking cocky he is.

While The Diviners was not a perfect read, I still declare myself awash in admiration for Libba Bray's talent. This book is so unlike anything else I've read and the writing is superb. For those with a bit of patience, you will not want to miss this one, as it is remarkable.

Rating: 4/5

Favorite Quote:

"'I thought you went to the library,' Uncle Will said.
   Evie cut her eyes at Will, who didn't look up from his book. 'Why do you think I'm so exhausted? If you'd like to know anything at all about this city in 1876, please raise your hand. No show of hands? Pos-i-tute-ly shocking.' Evie bunched a pillow into a corner of the settee and rested her face against it. 'There is a hideous invention called the Dewey Decimal System. And you have to look up your topic in books and newspapers. Pages upon pages upon pages . . . .
   Uncle Will frowned. 'Didn't they teach you how to go about research in that school of yours?''
   'No, but I can recite 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic' while making martinis.'
   'I weep for the future.'  
'There's where the martinis come in.'"