Those of us who’ve been waiting for Ungodly with bated breath knew right from the start that this would not be a lighthearted conclusion. G
Those of us who’ve been waiting for Ungodly with bated breath knew right from the start that this would not be a lighthearted conclusion. Greek gods come and do as they please and they tend to leave nothing but blood in their wake. So when you put those gods in the hands of someone like Kendare Blake, an author known for her talent in writing blood and gore, a bloody battle is pretty much what you’re going to get.
Our heroes, separated in battle, find themselves in three different places, fighting different fights. Hermes, Andy and Henry don’t know whether Athena and Cassandra survived. Athena herself is in Underworld, half crazed by Odysseus’s death. And Cassandra is just a ball of murderous rage, ready to kill all the gods, friends and foes alike. They each have their own adventures and trials, and it’s not until the second half that they collide.
Like in the two previous installments, I found Athena to be the most interesting character by far. This time she faces tremendous loss, more than she can bear, and she approaches it like she approaches everything, with no regard for her own safety. Her adventure in the Underworld is my favorite part of this book and her romance with a certain not-quite-mortal the thing that warmed my heart the most. A few more complex characters were added in this final installment, and several unlikely allies showed us a different side.
Characterization isn’t the only thing that Kendare Blake does extraordinarily well. Her descriptions are beautiful and precise and she doesn’t shy away from anything, no matter how bloody or painful it may be. With one goddess coughing up feathers, another’s skin stretched out for miles in the desert, and an emaciated god who keeps eating enormous amounts of food to no avail, there’s plenty of imagery to keep us occupied and grossed out.
The most important part of this trilogy and especially its final installment is the deep emotional impact it has on the reader. Kendare doesn’t always make it easy to sympathize with the gods, but she gives us just enough to become invested in their fates. The conflicting emotions we feel for them, our struggle between love and hate, is reflected perfectly in the characters of those few humans around them.
Now that it’s over, I’m going to miss the Antigoddess trilogy very much, but I am even now excited for Kendare Blake’s next project. She has the most amazing ideas and she truly knows how to carry them out. You really can’t go wrong by choosing one of her books.
2.5 stars Sarah Alderson is known for light, action-packed and swoon-worthy reads, and Out of Control is no different. She may have removed the paranor2.5 stars Sarah Alderson is known for light, action-packed and swoon-worthy reads, and Out of Control is no different. She may have removed the paranormal element, but the basic formula remains the same. If it works, why change it? And for the most part, if action is what yu’re after, it still works like a charm.
Out of Control is basically a movie on page. It definitely reads like one � it has a movie-like quality to it that is most certainly intentional. This is what Alderson does best. Her stories are never particularly deep, nor are they unforgettable, but they are, as a rule, endlessly entertaining and romantic.
Unfortunately, the extremely fast pacing leaves me with very little to say about the characters. There are no secondary characters to speak of as the story is centered very firmly around Liva and Jay. But even the two of them weren’t as developed as they should have been. After the very exciting and explosive beginning, with the two of them on the run, the book consisted mostly of them being discovered and somehow managing to evade their pursuers. It was repetitive and a tiny bit tedious, especially when both of them kept making stupid mistakes over and over again-.
If you’re someone who enjoys movies like The Terminator, with a whole lot of action and a delightful romance, Out of Control is simply perfect for you. I think I read somewhere that the opening scene was written in homage to the famous film, so it should come as no surprise that the overall mood reminds strongly of it as well.
As for Alderson herself, I haven’t given up completely. She will be back (read this in Arnold Schwarzenegger’s voice), hopefully with something more meaningful next time.
Holy Firefight, Batman! I’m such a Brandon Sanderson fangirl.
Here’s what you can expect from the second book in Sanderson’s Reckoners trilogy: A new cHoly Firefight, Batman! I’m such a Brandon Sanderson fangirl.
Here’s what you can expect from the second book in Sanderson’s Reckoners trilogy: A new city. Entertainment. Goofiness. Laughs. Almost unbearable tension. Hurt. Betrayals. So many tears. Frustration. Elation. Hope.
ALL the feels.
Brandon Sanderson has done it again, and we’ve expected no less. While it didn’t surpass its predecessor (because seriously, Steelheart was almost perfect), Firefight was just as good, just as exciting, just as funny, just as well written. In it, Sanderson takes Prof, Tia and David to a new setting � former New York, now called Babylon Restored. Their mission is to save the city from Regalia, a very powerful water epic and Prof’s former friend, but David has ulterior motives as well. Firefight is already there, or at least she should be, and David is determined to find her and save her from herself, even if everyone else wants to see her dead.
David is sometimes almost childlike in his willingness to see good in everyone, and it’s both his best and his worst quality at once. He didn’t start out like that; when we met him, his world was very black and white, but over time, and with pretty good reason, his worldview started to change. In Firefight, he struggles with some very difficult moral choices, but he approaches things with his eternal optimism and the innate goodness that shines from everything he does.
Firefight is full of revelations of all kinds. David still has so much to learn about the post-Calamity world, and some of the things he thought he knew couldn’t possibly be more wrong. But surprises come from more than just the world around him. People are there to surprise him too � those he trusted implicitly, those he was unsure about, people he’s just met � but mostly himself. No one is more surprised than David to see how much he’s changed.
Babylon Restored is gorgeous! The city is underwater so things mostly happen on rooftops, and there’s weird glowing fruit everywhere. The people are also strange, more relaxed, happy, friendly and open. At first, David has a hard time adjusting; in Newcago, people are terrified and keep to themselves, but in Babylon Restored, they look you right in the eyes and invite you to a party.
I’ve come to realize that folks at Audible Studios rarely make mistakes when it comes to choosing narrators, and the same stands true for this series. MacLeod Andrews was the perfect choice for Steelheart and Firefight, his voice is full of suppressed humor, but it easily transforms in David’s more difficult moments. Admittedly, his female voices need more work, but his voice has become inseparable from David’s and that’s pretty much all we can ask. I don’t know of any other narrator (except maybe Holter Graham) who could narrate this so well.
We’ll have to wait a year for Calamity� unless we find some way to get our hands on it sooner. I could maybe sell my soul or something. No price is too high, that much I know.
I remember starting Shutter with a certain amount of skepticism, cynical soul that I am. In my own defense, good YA horrors are few and far b4.5 stars
I remember starting Shutter with a certain amount of skepticism, cynical soul that I am. In my own defense, good YA horrors are few and far between � mostly they’re just creepy enough to justify the label and not a bit more. But Courtney Alameda proved me wrong in no time at all. By page 30, I was gripping my poor Kindle tightly, disgusted, terrified and oddly thrilled all at the same time. In all honesty, I haven’t read a YA horror so scary and exciting since The Waking Dark by Robin Wasserman.
Shutter is exactly what I want all my YA books to be: exciting, different and most importantly, romantic. It has all the right ingredients, but they’re put together in an entirely new way which makes it one of the best books I’ve read in a good long while. Alameda combined (mostly) excellent characterization with an incredible sense of pacing to give us a truly memorable read.
The basis of Alameda’s worldbuilding is a biological rarity � tetrachromacy � to which she gave paranormal properties. Micheline Helsing, descendant of the Van Helsing, is a tetrachromat, which allows her to see and classify ghosts better than anyone else. Her family has always fought against the dead and Micheline carried on the tradition and obligation even after losing half her family to ghosts. She and her father are the only remaining members of the Helsing family and they are both members of the Helsing Corps, an agency that defends the cities from the supernatural.
For the most part, Alameda’s characterization is superb. Micheline and her crew are excellently developed, each with a very distinct personality. Their group dynamic is also very interesting, as is Micheline’s relationship with Ryder. However, Micheline’s relationship with her father was somewhat exaggerated and his complete blindness to her needs seemed entirely too unrealistic. As the main antagonist of the story, at least emotionally, Micheline’s father came across as completely self-absorbed, utterly mean and perhaps even two-dimensional. His character brought a very strong emotional layer, but didn’t otherwise contribute.
Otherwise though, Shutter was practically flawless. The entire experience was reminiscent of Anna Dressed in Blood � the surprise, the horror, the excellent writing, and the creepiness of the story, which seems to be Alameda’s special talent.
Shutter seems to be a standalone, which I usually support, but in this case I feel that there’s room for more and I hope she’ll decide to go back to these characters. The sooner the better.
4.5 stars Sometimes, though not nearly often enough, a book grabs my attention from start to finish and refuses to let go. Rites of Passage is one of t4.5 stars Sometimes, though not nearly often enough, a book grabs my attention from start to finish and refuses to let go. Rites of Passage is one of those books that make you experience and react strongly to everything that happens, but also forces you to realize some harsh truths about yourself, truths you could have kept hidden and unacknowledged otherwise.
In other words, it made me face the fact that I’m a wuss.
Watching Sam McKenna go through hell at the military school she chose to attend on a dare � not only physical hell, but emotional as well � made me realize that I might just be a quitter somewhere deep inside. However, while I can’t finish a year (or even a day) of training at DMA, I can certainly finish a book in one sitting. Or, you know, several. Hah! Take that, Mac! You can do a gazillion push-ups, but I can turn those pages like nobody’s business.
And turning the pages frantically is exactly what I did. Unexpectedly� shockingly even, Rites of Passage was very emotionally draining. It had been a long time since a book really made me cry, but watching Sam being ostracized, completely rejected not only by her peers, but by her dysfunctional family as well, broke my little heart into a million pieces. I admired this girl’s bravery and persistence the entire time. She never once faltered, not even when she was left all alone, beaten and abused.
I was also more than a little surprised by the quality of Hensley’s writing. Her language is simple and clear, but the level of emotions that permeate every sentence of her narrative is extremely high. I have, unfortunately, learned not to expect much when picking up something entirely unfamiliar, but my low expectations made this whole experience that much more thrilling.
The ending, however, was less than satisfactory, which broke my heart in a different way altogether. This was going to be a perfect five-star read until things started to unravel. When they did, they went in two different directions: some were resolved far too neatly and suddenly, and some felt completely unfinished. The romance especially, after a whole lot of build-up, didn’t leave me with a warm and fuzzy feeling like I expected and needed it to after the emotional turmoil this book put me through. There is talk of a sequel, however, so hopefully things won’t be left like this permanently.
2.5 stars For a fast-paced, action-packed book, Scan was unusually difficult to get through, at least for me. The endless string of action scenes that 2.5 stars For a fast-paced, action-packed book, Scan was unusually difficult to get through, at least for me. The endless string of action scenes that was supposed to be captivating and entertaining was actually pretty tiresome and emotionally flat. In the end, I had to give myself a very stern talking to just to finish reading it.
In many ways, Scan was a pretty big disappointment. It lacked any real emotional depth, especially of the level I’ve come to expect from Sarah Fine. Fine usually uses her background in psychology to give us great characterization and believable emotional moments. To be fair, the tempo of this story didn’t allow for strong character development since things constantly progressed at a rapid pace. The focus was on the action and Tate was the only character that got any attention, and even that wasn’t enough. I’d say Walter Jury’s background in film industry unfortunately prevailed in this one.
The most interesting part of this story � Tate’s overly complicated relationship with his father � wasn’t explored nearly enough. There was so much potential there and I kept hoping it would lead somewhere, but unfortunately, a rarely mentioned sense of regret is all I got from Tate.
I recently read a pretty good article about female characters that are portrayed as strong, but that are essentially pointless. They are there, they are fierce, but they don’t actually do anything. The article itself was mostly about Hiccup’s mother in How to Train Your Dragon 2, but the same applies to our Christina. One can’t find any real fault with her character, but I felt that she was mostly there as a prop, to make the story look better and satisfy readers that are more femnistically inclined.
Despite an interesting (if a bit overused premise), this story didn’t resonate with me at all. When you add to that a rather vicious cliffhanger, I think it’s safe to say I won’t be continuing this series. However, those of you who appreciate non-stop action that is reasonably well done might enjoy this one much more than I did. Perhaps read a sample first and go from there.
A few years ago, when Kendare Blake first published Anna Dressed in Blood and completely won us over, I never dreamed that her books could become evenA few years ago, when Kendare Blake first published Anna Dressed in Blood and completely won us over, I never dreamed that her books could become even better. Anna was such a spectacular debut that it left very little room for improvement. And yet here we are, in the middle of a new series that is even more beautiful, more mature, written with a surer hand and far greater control over the narrative.
Mortal Gods is exactly what the title suggests � it brings the story of Greek gods divided into two factions and warring among themselves, both groups desperately fighting for survival. Athena leads one side, our side, and Ares leads the other. Their conflicts are merciless and bloody and their only goal is to survive and get revenge.
Just because Athena, Hermes and Odysseus are on our side does not mean that they are in the right. This entire series exists in a morally gray area. Ancient Gods, no matter how well-adapted to our times, have a whole different set of values and moral principles. Human life is not as significant for them, and scruples are often just another word in the dictionary. Even mortal characters like Cassandra and Andy are reincarnations of important mortals from ancient times, and the more they remember their old lives, the more they adapt to the gods� way of thinking.
Still, one can’t help but feel sympathy for a physically weakened Athena while she coughs out feathers from her lungs, or our poor, likeable Hermes, who eats and eats and eats, but is never full or strong like he used to be. The torture of each god is highly symbolic. For instance, according to the legend, Athena once punished her crow familiar by turning his beautiful white feathers to black and now she is tortured by feathers sprouting painfully from her body. Hermes, god of feasts and banquets (among other things) is never sated and he’s getting thinner by the day.
While Cassandra grieves and despairs, Athena and Odysseus are dancing around each other, never quite reaching a common ground. The love of these two is so painfully obvious, and yet there are so many barriers between them, far too many things that stand in the way of their true feelings, Athena’s pride among them.
Mortal Gods is even darker and bloodier than Antigoddess, which is no small thing, believe me. Blake is known for the vivid imagery she creates with seeming ease. Her descriptions are always detailed and precise, and the emotional reactions she provokes are off the charts. She always achieves the desired effect, be it sympathy, horror or even disgust.
Brava, Ms. Blake. I can’t wait for the next book.
Well, it’s official: when it comes to urban fantasy, Amanda Carlson can do no wrong. Her fourth book in the Jessica McClain series is her fourth succeWell, it’s official: when it comes to urban fantasy, Amanda Carlson can do no wrong. Her fourth book in the Jessica McClain series is her fourth success in a row, which is no small feat. Admittedly, it might be my least favorite of the four, but that’s only because the competition is so strong. All things considered, this is one of the strongest, most consistent urban fantasy series still being published.
Red Blooded takes Jessica McClain to the demon realm in search of her twin Tyler, who was taken from her at the very end of the previous book. Instead of going with a group of paranormals and friends, Jessica ends up there alone through a series of unfortunate events, and she wanders around quite a bit before reuniting with the others. Instead of bringing a new freshness to the series as I’m sure it was supposed to, the complete change of setting succeeded in alienating us from the secondary characters we’ve grown to love. In addition, the entire demon realm adventure seemed directionless and it was difficult to understand why Carlson chose to make such a move.
On the other hand, the demon realm itself was a very vivid and imaginative setting. I loved She’ol, the demon capital, and all the different kinds of demons there. Their social structure was described fairly well and untangling the rules of their society provided a lot of entertainment. That’s the sort of thing urban fantasy readers usually enjoy, and here it was done very well.
As always, I found Jessica’s relationship with her wolf and their rather odd dynamic quite fascinating. She’s not a regular shapeshifter like the ones we’re used to. Jessica and her wolf are two completely separate entities that share a body, and they communicate directly, especially when in danger. On the down side, Jessica is slowly turning into one of those all-powerful urban fantasy heroines, the ones that have no limits whatsoever, and it’s slowly becoming too much. The line isn’t far, though, and Carlson’s going to have to be very careful not to cross it.
Right now, however, this is a very strong, very reliable series and I hope it stays that way. With all the cross-genre novels that are currently being published, true urban fantasy books are increasingly difficult to find, and Jessica McClain series is UF in its purest form. That fact alone makes it special and worth your time.
2.5 stars Having just recently finished Altered, I more or less knew what to expect from the sequel. Both books are excellent for when I’m otherwise pr2.5 stars Having just recently finished Altered, I more or less knew what to expect from the sequel. Both books are excellent for when I’m otherwise preoccupied: fast-paced, romantic and extremely easy to follow.
Despite its high entertainment value, Erased is chock full of issues. Unfortunately, it’s even more predictable than the previous novel, its every single twist and turn visible from a mile away. The predictability doesn’t matter too much when combined with such rapid pacing, but a few surprises along the way would have been nice anyway.
Even in Altered, I found Anna’s relationship with Sam, her older sister’s ex-boyfriend, extremely creepy, especially because neither of them could really remember Anna’s sister. In Erased, the creepy factor has increased tenfold, to the point that really made me uncomfortable. Both Anna and Sam’s memories have been wiped far too many times and their history is too complicated to allow for a healthy relationship. Instead of making me swoon, I was a bit weirded out by it.
I did enjoy Nick’s much bigger role in this book, even when he was being his usual obnoxious self. Despite guessing his part in Anna’s childhood traumas extremely early, I still liked seeing him realize the depth of their relationship. Funny, lighthearted Cas remains the only source of comic relief, his significance in the main story arc minor, but his importance for the fans and the overall picture monumental.
All things considered, this is not a series I’d recommend for a more demanding reader. It’s fun and the writing is pretty decent (though nothing to write home about), but don’t expect a life-changing reading experience.
There really aren’t that many post-apocalyptic trilogies I truly enjoy, but the raw realism of Laybourne’s apocalyptic vision, the sheer probability oThere really aren’t that many post-apocalyptic trilogies I truly enjoy, but the raw realism of Laybourne’s apocalyptic vision, the sheer probability of it all, is what makes her series stand out in the sea of post-apocalyptic reads out there. The point of these books, I think, is to convince the readers they’re entirely possible, and with Monument 14, my mind was free of doubts from the start.
In Sky of Fire, our small group of young survivors split into two groups. The larger group, lead by Nico, decided to try to reach Denver International Airport by bus. The second group stayed behind, mostly because of their blood type and the danger they can easily become to others. The two brothers we’ve been following from the beginning, Alex and Dean, got separated, with Dean staying in the Monument shopping mall, and Alex leaving to seek help.
Things did not get easier for our group in this installment. If anything, Sky on Fire is darker and more violent than its predecessor � not that Laybourne ever shied away from harsh realities of a world in shambles. The difference is that by now, our teen survivors learned what they must do to survive, and their hands aren’t clean anymore. They are ready to threaten, drug or kill people in order to save themselves and their friends. In other words, they have adapted, even if they hate themselves for it.
While the addition of Alex’s point of view was absolutely necessary, being inside Dean’s head was far more enjoyable. There’s just something about Dean’s simple honesty that would melt even the hardest of hearts, and his love for Astrid, open and undemanding, no matter the circumstances, endeared him to me even further. Those who have read Monument 14 will remember that Astrid, Dean’s long-time crush, is pregnant with another boy’s baby, but our Dean takes it all in stride, willing to accept this and anything else she might throw his way, just to be with her.
Emmy Laybourne still excels at building characters, but her skill is somewhat less pronounced in this sequel, probably because of the rapid pacing. With so many things going on, it’s hard to focus on anyone except the POV characters. But while I felt a tiny bit detached from some of the secondary characters� issues, I did get to know Dean even better and learned to appreciate him a lot more.
Sky on Fire has a nice, satisfactory ending with just enough issues left open to make me more than interested in reading the next book. Not every middle book has to end with a cliffhanger, and in fact, if it were up to me, I’d ban them from existence altogether. Thankfully, things like cliffhanger endings and middle book syndrome aren’t part of Emmy Laybourne’s repertoire.
Well, my good people, Christina Bauer has done it again. Angelbound was such a huge surprise for me last year. I requested it on a whim and practicall Well, my good people, Christina Bauer has done it again. Angelbound was such a huge surprise for me last year. I requested it on a whim and practically inhaled it in one sitting, only to end up anxiously biting my nails while waiting for the sequel. Not that Bauer left us with a cliffhanger or anything. She’s not one of those authors, you know.
And quite frankly, it isn’t only the lack of cliffhangers that make Bauer and her series stand out. Everything about Angelbound is different, from the heroine, the romance, and her hilarious sidekick. The worldbuilding, while fairly simple, is also very interesting. Bauer does an excellent job in creating a challenging world for Myla.
In Scala, that worldbuilding becomes far richer in details. Since Myla is responsible for all the souls in Purgatory, we need to learn how everything functions. And since Myla is being attacked politically, the relationships between realms are very important. However, while it may sound a bit complicated at first, rest assured that Christina Bauer delivers it all painlessly. Being in Myla’s world is very easy, and spending time in her company is always such a delight.
The very best part of these books is, of course, the romance. Unnecessary romantic drama isn’t something Bauer does and I admire her greatly for it. Instead, we have soul mates, true partners and friends. Myla and Lincoln understand each other and support each other through everything. Lincoln is not one of those book boyfriends that conveniently disappear when push comes to shove. He follows Myla everywhere and she does the same for him.
There were some parts of this sequel that seemed a bit rushed. So many things were happening at once and the pacing was so fast, we barely had time to absorb and think things through. But even through those frantic scenes, Myla’s fabulous sense of humor served as a great tension reliever. And let me tell you, our Myla has matured so much! She isn’t one of those heroines that gain powers only to whine about them. She doesn’t indulge in self-pity and being indecisive is completely foreign to her.
I will conclude with this: I adore this series. Even with a somewhat inferior second book, it’s definitely worth your time. I’ll be stalking Netgalley for arcs of Armageddon, that’s for sure.
After Kim Curran’s original and highly entertaining debut, Shift, my expectations for the sequel were pretty high. I read both books back to back, butAfter Kim Curran’s original and highly entertaining debut, Shift, my expectations for the sequel were pretty high. I read both books back to back, but a significant improvement was easily noticeable. She has matured as a writer from one book to the next, and although Control had its problems, it’s a read I’d never hesitate to recommend.
In Shift, Scott discovered that he has the power to change any decision he’s ever made. In other words, he’s a shifter. But the power is far more dangerous than it seems because even the smallest change can have catastrophic consequences. What’s more, his power won’t last forever � the ability to shift is limited to teens. Once Scott reaches a certain age, entropy will set in and he’ll be just a regular person once more. Through it all, he has the help of a shifter girl, Aubrey. She was the one who helped him adjust to his new life as an agent of the ARES, and � to Scott’s never-ending astonishment � she seems to like him just as much as he likes her.
At only 15, Aubrey is intelligent, talkative and energetic, true force of nature. Both books are told from Scott’s point of view, but although we only see her though his eyes, Aubrey is no less of a protagonist. For Scott, she is the only constant in his otherwise turbulent life, something to hold on to in the ever-changing realities.
Male voices are so difficult to get right in YA (a teen boy’s mind is a mysterious thing indeed), but Scott’s struck me as very authentic. Both Scott and Aubrey were extremely mature for their age, but it never really seemed odd considering the amount of power they wielded and the type of job they did. Each of them was burdened with so much responsibility that it’s no wonder they talked and acted like 30-year-olds.
The plot in both books is downright excellent and Curran leaves her readers no time to breathe or relax. Scott and Aubrey face true horrors on every turn. The only letdown was their final encounter with the villain in Control. This person had been terrorizing and manipulating shifters for decades, and yet Scott handled the situation so easily, it was almost ridiculous. Aside from that, Shift and Control are amazing and compulsively readable.
Another thing I feel the need to mention: I. Do. Not. Appreciate. Cliffhangers! Ending your book with a cliffhanger is a sure way to ruin the whole thing for me. While Shift has a nice, clean-cut ending, Control ends with a huge pile of mess at Scott’s door. It’s a good thing a third book was recently announced, or I’d be tempted to pull my hair out. Or well, ²õ´Ç³¾±ð´Ç²Ô±ð’s hair at the very least.
Cliffhanger or not, these books are a much needed breath of fresh air in YA. If originality is what you’re after, pick up a Strange Chemistry title and give it a try. It’s quickly becoming my favorite and most reliable imprint. These days, it’s enough to see their logo to know that I’ll thoroughly enjoy a book. Kim Curran’s series is no exception.
By now, everyone in the world knows that I’m terrified of faeries. I dislike seeing them romanticized; I’d much rather have them portrayed a3.5 stars.
By now, everyone in the world knows that I’m terrified of faeries. I dislike seeing them romanticized; I’d much rather have them portrayed as the deceptive, vicious creatures they are. In The Falconer by Elizabeth May, though, there’s a little bit of both, and that, as it turns out, is a perfect combination for someone like me.
We join Aileana not at the traumatic event that caused her to start killing faeries, but a year later, when she’s already met Kiaran MacKay, who molded her into a fighter. It’s clear from the start that Aileana is no ordinary Victorian society girl, even though she once used to be.
There is a perfect balance of light and darkness in Kiaran MacKay. He talks little of his past, his thousands of years of existence, but when he does, it’s difficult to reconcile the monster he describes with the hero we quickly grow to love. The same balance is reflected in Aileana, albeit more moderately. While it’s true that hunting faeries saves people’s life, Aileana is driven by her overwhelming need for vengeance, not by altruism. It is, however, impossible not to sympathize with her � having seen her mother brutally murdered by a faery, Aileana is forever changed.
May paints for us a very detailed picture of Edinburgh in mid 19th century, each sentence showing the amount of research that went into The Falconer and her familiarity with the setting. She also shows, rather accurately, how stiff and uncompromising the society was, especially towards women. ‘Duty first� is the rule by which all women lived.
May does a wonderful job with the fae language as well. She rarely offers translations or explanations, but it certainly looks authentic enough and gives Kiaran and Derrick an extra layer of otherworldliness, a much needed reminder when we run the risk of seeing them as too human.
The cliffhanger, however, successfully ruined what was otherwise a fabulous reading experience. There is no resolution whatsoever, and we’re left with very little hope for Aileana and Kiaran. Secondary characters are also left with no closure, sent on errands and practically abandoned mid-flight.
Nevertheless, The Falconer is at the very least an original, beautifully written novel worthy of attention. If you are a patient sort, perhaps wait until book two is released. If not, you’ll just have to suffer with the rest of us.
4.5 stars I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: long live Amy Tintera! If you enjoyed her debut last year, you are going to love the sequel. Rebe4.5 stars I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: long live Amy Tintera! If you enjoyed her debut last year, you are going to love the sequel. Rebel is absolutely thrilling: the rapid pacing and impressive character development are just two of the things that make Tintera’s sophomore novel an absolute success.
Rebel is unputdownable from start to finish: strong plot, moral dilemmas and the wonderfully mature romance all perfectly entwined to create a breathlessly exciting read. While Reboot was excellent in so many ways that are difficult to repeat, Rebel has its advantages too: it happens, for one, in an already established, strongly built world, which allows for excellent character growth and gives us time to examine the moral and psychological repercussions of Wren’s life before Callum. At the same time, Tintera neatly takes Callum off his throne of non-violent sainthood and gives him time to open his eyes and adjust his idealistic nature and his actual circumstances.
There was never any reason to doubt Wren and Callum’s feelings for each other (though Wren’s feelings in general were questionable for a time), but it was clear from the start that theirs was not a relationship of equals. In the attempt to hold on to his humanity, Callum was always perfectly happy to keep his hands and conscience clean and leave all the decisions and the necessary violence to Wren. This lack of balance wasn’t as obvious in Reboot, when Callum’s aforementioned humanity was essential for waking Wren up. In Rebel, however, their different ways of thinking and Callum’s readiness to step aside and allow Wren to handle things become a serious problem.
However, fear not: this rift between them isn’t unnecessarily dramatic or unrealistic. Quite the contrary, Tintera allows them to find their balance slowly, in a way that becomes relevant not only to their relationship, but to the overall plot as well. While they were running for their lives, there simply wasn’t time to note all the disparities between them, but in Rebel, they slowly work their way around them.
That’s not to say that Rebel is a slow book. It is, perhaps, even more tense than Reboot and there’s plenty of action to keep everyone happy. No middle book syndrome for Amy Tintera; I doubt she knows the meaning of those words. There’s really not much to say except brava, Ms. Tintera. My hat’s off to you.
4.5 stars Steelheart was my first book by Brandon Sanderson, and now that I’ve finished it, I’m eager to read everything he’s ever written. 5th grade h4.5 stars Steelheart was my first book by Brandon Sanderson, and now that I’ve finished it, I’m eager to read everything he’s ever written. 5th grade homework? Yes, please. Grocery list? Give it here. I really wish I’d discovered him ages ago! Have you guys been slacking off? It seems I’ve been missing out on a lot! Now I have to struggle and change my schedule to catch up.
I think it’s clear by now how much I enjoyed this first installment in the Reckoners series. To be fair, Steelheart is a perfect example of publishing the right book at the right time � I doubt superheroes were ever more popular than they are now. Sanderson borrows the basic idea from Marvel and DC, the only difference being that his superheroes � Epics, as he calls them � aren’t here to save anyone; they’re here to take whatever they want exactly when they want it. In Sanderson’s world, law of the jungle is the only law that still applies.
David, Sanderson’s protagonist, is no superhero, he is a regular teen boy, but one who refuses to accept the way things are. After all, Steelheart, the most powerful Epic and ruler of Newcago, killed David’s father when David was just a boy. He may be reputed to be invulnerable, but David is the only one who has ever seen him bleed. I thought Sanderson did a wonderful job with David. For a teen boy, he was both observant and fairly wise, but I loved that he never stopped being a teenager with raging hormones, prone to rash decisions and careless behavior. He was likeable from the very first page, and his remarks were often hilarious, as were his horrible metaphors.
Secondary characters weren’t far behind. Each one of them interesting and complex, with some, like Prof, mysterious enough to keep us on the edge of our seats the entire time. But even with such fabulous characters, Sanderson’s experience is most evident in action scenes. He knows exactly when and how to speed things up and which moments to describe in detail. His control over every scene and every one of his characters is superb and his understanding of the emotional side of his characters enviable.
Macleod Anderson narrated the story confidently and perfectly. He breathed so much life into the main character, I really felt David was the one telling me his story. This was my first audiobook narrated by him, but I will try to find more.
If Steelheart is any indication, Sanderson is an author who can do no wrong. I came this close to giving Steelheart 5 stars but I decided against it because there is still some room for improvement, although admittedly not much. Can I have book 2, please? Like, now?!
If you’re a woman with even the slightest knowledge on Norse mythology, I bet you spent some time fantasizing about being a Valkyrie. (If you’re a manIf you’re a woman with even the slightest knowledge on Norse mythology, I bet you spent some time fantasizing about being a Valkyrie. (If you’re a man� well, let’s not go there.) After all, they are gorgeous, they are practically invincible, either noble or descendents of gods and the things they can do with a sword would make any person drop their jaw in admiration. And there are always those outfits to consider � I for one would kill to wear them just once.
I am fairly new to Norse mythology and it’s still a source of constant (and pleasant) surprises. What I knew before reading Mist came from another urban fantasy series (thank you, Kevin Hearne!), but even if I knew nothing, I’d be fairly well versed after this reading experience. Despite it being set in modern day San Francisco, all the characters in Mist come straight from Norse mythology.
For decades, Valyrie Mist has been living In Midgard among the mortals (that would be us, my friends), convinced that her gods have perished during Ragnarok. She is the faithful guardian of Odin’s spear, even though she believes there’s no one left to guard it for, and her sisters guard other immortal Treasures all over the world.
When her live-in boyfriend Eric turns out to be none other than the trickster god Loki in his mortal disguise, Mist is furious with herself for several reasons. First, for allowing him to get close to the spear, which he ended up stealing while she was busy fighting a frost giant. Second, for being too quick to believe that her gods really are gone forever. And third, for not being aware of her true heritage in time to stop it all from happening.
What this book needed to become infinitely better was just a touch of humor. Mist was so serious all the time, and so was her companion Dainn, which means that both POVs ended up being a bit tough to swallow. Even Loki, the trickster, had no trace of humor in his actions and/or dialogue � just brutality and venom. Consequently, the prose was pretty dry, which combined with the sheer amount of information offered, made for a very demanding read. Humor so often makes or breaks urban fantasy, and in this case, it could have worked to Krinard’s advantage.
I am quite unused to dual POV in urban fantasy, especially when it takes over a hundred pages for the second one to enter the picture. Dainn’s conflicts were interesting to witness through his eyes, but I still felt that the author took the easy way out.
If there is such a thing as high urban fantasy (which apparently there is), Mist is a very fine example of it. It is a weighty read that offers an abundance of action and information without a single thing to lighten things up. Still, true fans of urban fantasy shouldn’t miss it, and since I count myself among them, I’m glad I made the decision to read it.
Maja (The Nocturnal Library)
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