The Y Logs

Yzabel / March 22, 2014

Review: The Midnight Witch

The Midnight Witch by Paula Brackston

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

“The dead are seldom silent. All that is required for them to be heard is that someone be willing to listen. I have been listening to the dead all my life.”

Lilith is the daughter of the sixth Duke of Radnor. She is one of the most beautiful young women in London and engaged to the city’s most eligible bachelor. She is also a witch.

When her father dies, her hapless brother Freddie takes the title. But it is Lilith, instructed in the art of necromancy, who inherits their father’s role as Head Witch of the Lazarus Coven. And it is Lilith who must face the threat of the Sentinels, a powerful group of sorcerers intent on reclaiming the Elixir from the coven’s guardianship for their own dark purposes. Lilith knows the Lazarus creed: secrecy and silence. To abandon either would put both the coven and all she holds dear in grave danger. She has spent her life honoring it, right down to her charming fiancé and fellow witch, Viscount Louis Harcourt.

Until the day she meets Bram, a talented artist who is neither a witch nor a member of her class. With him, she must not be secret and silent. Despite her loyalty to the coven and duty to her family, Lilith cannot keep her life as a witch hidden from the man she loves.

To tell him will risk everything.

Spanning the opulence of Edwardian London and the dark days of World War I, The Midnight Witch is the third novel from New York Times bestselling author Paula Brackston.

Review:

[I received an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review. This not being a published copy, a few things may change in the final version of the novel.]

I had a bit of a hard time getting into the story at first, as the style felt a little too convoluted at times, and the whole present tense + 1st/3rd person POV shifts weren’t needed in my opinion.

Contrary to what usually happens with such stories, I ended up liking the romance part better than the witches one. It wasn’t particularly original—a young woman from a very conservative background, betrothed to a young man from an equally conventional background, falls in love with a a starving artist, and finds herself torn between what society dictates and what her heart truly wants. Though there’s chemistry between Lilith and Bram from the beginning, I thought their relationship progressed in a believable way, and that their fears and questioning about said relationship were understandable, considering the place and time period. Again, it wasn’t very original in itself, no surprises here, but it still worked, unlike too many romance plots I’ve seen in the past couple of years. Also, bubbly Charlotte wasn’t an important character, but I liked her way of being. Same with Gudrun; blunt, haughty, yet to-the-point Gudrun.

The witches-related plot, on the other hand, made me roll my eyes several times, because I couldn’t believe how the ninnies had managed to actually survive for so long. Here we have an ancient coven full of necromancers (nice ones, who only speak to the dead and don’t try to raise them every Saturday evening), but they didn’t do much, and didn’t seem very organised. That part (i.e. half the novel) seemed to rest on inconsistencies and deus ex machina, and it didn’t work for me at all. A few examples:
* When it’s time for Lilith to officially become Head Witch, someone in the coven challenges her to prove her worth. The challenge, as per the coven’s rules, is to summon then send back a demon, something that is considered as very hard and dangerous, and ended in the death of more than one witch in the past when the demon went on a rampage. For starters, why was this even a trial? Shouldn’t a coven leader realise that stooping down to this isn’t a very wise solution? Why was this rule still in effect, and not replaced by something difficult, but that may not end up with people dying?
* The challenger was a spy from the Sentinels, a group of enemy sorcerers. Everyone was wearing masks, and he had disguised his voice, so they didn’t know who it was. The senior witches decide to investigate and see who joined their coven in the past years, to try and find the spy. Then… Nothing.
* At some point, Lilith learns the name of her enemy. At least another member of the coven knows, too, because said enemy tries blackmail on that person. Were the other witches ever informed? If no, why? If yes, why didn’t they do anything?
* Very early in the story, Lilith finds herself haunted by a spirit. Why didn’t the coven band to destroy it? Lilith only enlisted the help of ONE witch. As if that would work.
* A first hard strike against Lilith. Someone dies. Then the war happens, and the enemy… does nothing to press his luck and gain some more ground.
* The Elixir, the one that can resurrect people and that the Sentinels so badly want, is on the verge of being stolen. It’s World War I: suddenly a bomb falls on the house. The thief and his acolytes die. Convenient.
* Lilith must keep the coven a secret from non-witches. But she reveals things easily enough to her lover. No wonder some deemed her unsuitable to be Head Witch.
There were other inconsistencies, and making a very detailed list would be tedious, so I’m going to stop here.

In general, I found the “nice witches” way too bland and passive. They had that whole coven, that power, they knew who their enemy was, they could’ve struck him, could’ve done, well, anything but they didn’t. They just seemed to wait in the background, wait for something to happen, not making moves of their own. I couldn’t understand why. (The matter of fragile balance or whatever else might have justified non-interference wasn’t raised, so I assumed it wasn’t an issue.)

I wish I had liked this novel more, but alas, it didn’t happen.

Yzabel / March 21, 2014

Review: The Cleansing

The Cleansing by Sam Kates

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

Apocalypse unleashed, the Cleansing begins. Relentless. Survival, uncertain.

Seven billion people inhabit this world, unaware our destruction is at hand. Death arrives unheralded—swift and nearly certain—not from meteors or nuclear holocaust or global warming, but from a source no one even knows exists.

The architects of doom have moved among us, hidden in plain sight, waiting for the signal to trigger our extinction.

Blindsided, humanity falls. A handful of survivors, bewildered and grief-stricken, must face the new reality, and quickly. For while the Cleansing threatens our existence, it is only the beginning…

Review:

(I got an e-copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 stars.

An interesting twist on the more traditional post-apocalyptic “a deadly catastrophe wipes off humanity, only a few hundreds/thousands survive”… because this time, the survivors are mostly the ones who were responsible for said catastrophe (and this isn’t a spoiler: we learn about it in the first couple of chapters). We’re clearly given both sides here: that of the “poor” human survivors, and that of the group who engineered everything, and was thus organised enough beforehand to be able to breeze through the aftermath.

I liked how the story made me question a lot of things. What we take for granted. The reasons behind the decision of the “bad guys”. How some of them may not be so far away from humanity as they like ot think. I suspect the latter aspect will be explored more in the next installment, or at least I hope so, as it’s something I found quite intriguing. The characters of Troy, Diane and Milandra come to mind. Troy being too trigger-happy in his mission, for a supposedly non-violent being; Diane showing no emotion, no signs, and being exactly the kind of person who might or might not snap in the end; and Milandra, the one who gave the order, yet still tries to protect the one guy who didn’t obey. It seems to me that thousands of years spent among the “drones” have taken their toll, and it made me wonder: how many others are going to have second thoughts, in spite of having carried the order and followed the plan so far?

On the downside, the writing was sometimes a little too dry, and I found it hard to connect with the characters, which in turn made it harder to actually care for them. For quite a few chapters, we see them in their mundane lives, or going through the apocalypse, but mostly I wouldn’t feel very invested in them. I also thought part of the explanation, given throughout the second half of the novel, tended to veer into info-dump territory (just a couple of times, fortunately). The setting also makes up for bleak prospects for the human race—but then, it depends on whether one wants to read a story full of hope in the wake of adversity, or indeed read something about a dark future, in which case The Cleansing definitely delivers.

Yzabel / March 18, 2014

Review: The House of Hades

The House of Hades by Rick Riordan

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

At the conclusion of The Mark of Athena, Annabeth and Percy tumble into a pit leading straight to the Underworld. The other five demigods have to put aside their grief and follow Percy’s instructions to find the mortal side of the Doors of Death. If they can fight their way through the Gaea’s forces, and Percy and Annabeth can survive the House of Hades, then the Seven will be able to seal the Doors both sides and prevent the giants from raising Gaea. But, Leo wonders, if the Doors are sealed, how will Percy and Annabeth be able to escape?

They have no choice. If the demigods don’t succeed, Gaea’s armies will never die. They have no time. In about a month, the Romans will march on Camp Half-Blood. The stakes are higher than ever in this adventure that dives into the depths of Tartarus.

Review:

I liked this one better than The Mark of Athena, though I still keep finding flaws in it—so no higher ranking from me here.

What I liked:

* Nico. I’ve always had a soft spot for the poor kid, who sure wasn’t the strongest demigod in the Percy Jackson series itself, went through his lot of crap, and ended up so lost, confused and convinced he couldn’t trust others, that he did everything alone… thus ending up even more isolated. But he’s strong in his own way—I guess walking alone for so long does make you grow no matter what. In this book, we also get to see at last something that had been plaguing him, and I just found that great (even though I have my qualms about it, too; see below). You know what? I want THIS GUY, yeah, the son of Hades, the one with the permanent circles under the eyes and gloomy aura of doom around him, to get his love interest in the end. I know it’ll never happen, but trust me, if I were into writing fanfiction instead of stories about my own characters and worlds, I’d do exactly that for him.

* Bob. (Now I need to read the Demigod Files, because I had absolutely no idea who he was, and wondered if I had missed a chapter somewhere in a previous book.) Also Damasen. I found it really interesting that those characters not being total evil guys happened in Tartarus, the very pit of despair, and a hellish setting to boot. It gets to show that the best can happen in the darkest moments. Anyway, how couldn’t I like a Titan janitor with a broom-o’-doom and a half-skeleton calico cat? (Granted, I tend to like things that are over the top, at least from time to time. Especially in darker settings.)

* The darker setting. As much as I liked Percy’s levity in the first series, the heroes are grown-up now, so it makes sense to see them confront darker events and monsters.

* Leo and Calypso.[Leo and Calypso. (hide spoiler)] A relationship I didn’t expect, and that was a nice break from the old Percabeth or Jasper (Pison?). Though it removed some tension from the Frank/Hazel pairing, but it’s not like Leo/Hazel would’ve happened anyway. I guess.

What I didn’t like:

* Nico. Oh why, why couldn’t we have chapters from his PoV from the beginning? Sure, it would’ve spoilt the bomb, but… but… I’m sure he’d have been more interesting than Jason. (Who, by the way, accepts the Big Reveal about him a little too easily. It’s a nice lesson in tolerance, but it feels exactly like that, like a lesson, and not as a 100% human reaction.)

* Jason is still his bland self. I’ve never been able to relate to him, and I still can’t here. So, all right, the guy’s got trouble conciling his Roman training with what he lived with the Greek demigods, and doesn’t know where he belongs anymore… but it’s just not working for me.

* It’s the same old formula, and even though I liked it in the beginning, I’d also appreciate seeing something else at some point. Also, nobody dies. They go to freaking Tartarus, yet nobody dies. No pressure. No tension. No worry on my part about who’s going to make it and who will be left behind. Although I admit that if in the next book, the one who dies is Nico, I’ll be one very, very frustrated girl.

* The enemies are as dumb as ever, and always get tricked the same way. I suppose it’s the only way, considering brute strength would never work against giants and immortal monsters, but… OK, Nyx. Come on? Nyx. *facepalm*

Yzabel / March 17, 2014

Review: TimeRiders

TimeRiders by Alex Scarrow

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Liam O’Connor should have died at sea in 1912.

Maddy Carter should have died on a plane in 2010.

Sal Vikram should have died in a fire in 2029.

Yet moments before death, someone mysteriously appeared and said, ‘Take my hand . . .’

But Liam, Maddy and Sal aren’t rescued. They are recruited by an agency that no one knows exists, with only one purpose – to fix broken history. Because time travel is here, and there are those who would go back in time and change the past.

That’s why the TimeRiders exist: to protect us. To stop time travel from destroying the world . . .

Review:

I was reading this one for a group read, but since I had time to finish it today instead of dumbly waiting for tomorrow to roll in, well…

I’m not sure if it should be a 1* or 2* for me. Let’s say 2, for the Terminator shout-outs, which made me smile (I watched T1 and T2 when I was in middle school, and I still have fond memories of those), for the couple of good things I liked, and because I didn’t actually want to throw the book through the window. In fact, I think it could be nice for a younger audience—maybe 7th graders—because if you don’t pay attention to the plot holes, well, the story has the potential to be a fast, entertaining read (though a bit frightening and gruesome in parts for the really young readers out there).

The characters weren’t particularly well-developed, but neither were they insufferable, and I appreciated the plot not being bogged down by the useless romance I see rearing its head in too many YA novels. However, the plot holes are what sunk this book for me. It’s dealing with time travel, a very, very tricky subject, and one that is really not so easy to master. As soon as it enters the game, it brings its lot of questions: what’s the science behind it, what about paradox, what happens if a character meets him/herself from the past, and so on. Unfortunately, TimeRiders didn’t deal well with that in my eyes.

Here’s an example: the characters live in a sort of “bubble”, from which they observe the same two days in time. Within the bubble, they age normally, but every couple of days, the world around them is reset, and reverts back to what it was at the beginning of their observation period. One of the characters’ role is to stay outside, keeping an eye for whatever may be different, a sure sign that a shift has occured somewhere in history, and report it to the others so that the team’s analyst can locate the problem, and the actual timr-travellers can go there to fix it. However, there’s no explanation as to why this character isn’t affected by huge time shifts. At some point, the whole world is destroyed, so her parents can’t have been born to give birth to her later, so why does she still exist? That kind of problem is never really addressed nor explained. I would’ve been content with something as simple as “once you’re plucked out of time, you can’t be affected by shifts anymore for [insert whatever reason]”, but I don’t even remember seeing that.

Another thing I wondered about was the whole time agency business. The teenagers are never introduced to it, except through what Foster tells them about it; no other team is ever seen or even mentioned; and I had the feeling that it didn’t really exist, that those three kids and their old mentor were the only ones in the world. Maybe this will be explained in book 2 or 3, I don’t know; still, considering this is the book in which the characters are trained for their missions in time, it would’ve made sense to give us more information about that, to make us actually hear about other teams. (Again, I could’ve gone with a short explanation, maybe a rule such as “each time is assigned to a given time period and forbidden to talk to the others, for fear of time paradox.” Whatever.)

Not the worst story I’ve read so far, but consider it a 1.5 on my scale, not more.

Yzabel / March 14, 2014

Review: Emilie and the Sky World

Emilie and the Sky World by Martha Wells

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

A Girl’s Own Adventure in the spirit of Jules Verne.

When Emilie and Daniel arrive in Silk Harbor, Professor Abindon, an old colleague of the Marlendes, warns them that she’s observed something strange and potentially deadly in the sky, a disruption in an upper air aether current. But as the Marlendes investigate further, they realize it’s a ship from another aetheric plane. It may be just a friendly explorer, or something far more sinister, but they will have to take an airship into the dangerous air currents to find out.

Emilie joins the expedition and finds herself deep in personal entanglements, with an angry uncle, an interfering brother, and an estranged mother to worry about as well as a lost family of explorers, the strange landscapes of the upper air, and the deadly menace that inhabits the sky world.

Review:

(I got an ARC copy from NetGalley. At the time, the book wasn’t published yet, but it took me some time to get to it. Some things may have changed between the version I have, and the actual, final version.)

One thing I have to get out of the way: I didn’t read Emilie and the Hollow World, the first installment in this series. Although each story seems to be self-contained, it was obvious that some elements from book #1 permeated book #2, partly through brief recapping here and there; and so I may or may have not missed a few things.

This story follows a classical adventure format, its world and themes reminiscent of classical works as well (the—lovely—cover, among other things, made me think of the old Jules Vernes books I had when I was a child). Airships, explorers, scientists with a dash of magic to their craft, and young people wanting part of the big adventure: these can and will certainly appeal to a younger audience. Bonus points, also, for the aether-ship creature, who truly was alien (not humanoid, as in too many novels), and for including the communication/language barrier. I tend to be highly skeptical of “aliens” with whom communicating is awfully easy in every aspect.

On the other hand, I found the story easily predictable (the missing expedition mentioned in the first chapters of the book was kind of a giveaway), and I think even younger readers would have the same feeling. The chapters leading to getting into the aether currents were too slow to my liking; I guess I wanted the Big Adventure to start faster—that’s why I pick adventure stories. (As I mentioned, I didn’t read book #1, but I suppose someone who has would want things to start faster?)

But those are smaller qualms: after all, sometimes we just want predictable, and in such genres, it’s not that much of a problem per se. The real issue for me were the characters, whom I just didn’t connect with: they felt brushed over, shown on the surface only, when clearly something deeper was going on for some of them, and I would’ve liked to see more in that regard. Emilie struck me as too mean and petulant regarding her brother; granted, they seemed to share history, but they’re still young (Efrain must be, what, 10?), and it was weird, because they somehow felt like they shared twenty years of resentment. As a result, Emilie wasn’t particularly likeable—at least, not like the adventurous, smart and resourceful girl I imagined her to be when I started reading. Same with the Professor and Miss Marlende: the tension between them was never really explained (though I could feel very early who they were), and it would’ve been interesting to know how exactly things became that way.

In itself, it was a fairly nice story, but one I’ll probably forget fast.

Yzabel / March 13, 2014

Review: Please Don’t Tell My Parents I’m A Supervillain

Please Don’t Tell My Parents I’m a Supervillain by Richard Roberts

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

Penelope Akk wants to be a superhero. She’s got superhero parents. She’s got the ultimate mad science power, filling her life with crazy gadgets even she doesn’t understand. She has two super-powered best friends. In middle school, the line between good and evil looks clear.

In real life, nothing is that clear. All it takes is one hero’s sidekick picking a fight, and Penny and her friends are labeled supervillains. In the process, Penny learns a hard lesson about villainy: She’s good at it.

Criminal masterminds, heroes in power armor, bottles of dragon blood, alien war drones, shapeshifters and ghosts, no matter what the super powered world throws at her, Penny and her friends come out on top. They have to. If she can keep winning, maybe she can clear her name before her mom and dad find out.

Review:

(I got a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I found this book to be a very entertaining and refreshing read, focused on the characters’ adventures, and likely something I’d have thoroughly enjoyed in middle school—well, I did enjoy it now, after all. In my opinion, it definitely reaches its aim of providing younger readers with likeable characters, all with their specific traits. Penny, the mad scientist, whose power works in spurts of genius, and whose voice throughout the story I quickly grew fond of. Claire, cute but also resourceful, especially when it comes to using connections to the team’s advantage. Ray, who simply was, well, classy, and whose take on circumstances was definitely contagious. At the same time, I could tell they were kids, reacting like kids getting powers, and wanting to have fun with those before it was time to get all serious and act like grown-ups.

Paradoxically, the fact they were kids made the community’s reaction to their presence somewhat more believable: with heroes and villains alike used to fighting each other with magic and “adult” powers, throwing in kid-like actions in the middle can be unsettling, and difficult to predict. The Inscrutable Machine did exactly that. As for the heroes/villain community itself, your mileage may vary on the “believability scale”. Personally, I found it mostly made sense in its own way: with both sides having super powers, at some point you have to reach some kind of agreement to avoid really wreaking havoc with no one the winner at the end. (That, and the alien invasion in the past, which seemed to have forced them to cooperate.)

Another likeable side of the story was how it really focused on its premise, a.k.a. teenagers accidentally labelled as supervillains, then deciding to play the part until they could “see the errors of their ways and become heroes”. I’ve read too many books that start off with something interesting like that, then veer off toward teenage drama/love stories, with those not being the reason why I picked them in the first place. There is a touch of romantic interest here, but it’s subtle, and played in a somewhat comical way, so it agreed with me in the end.

The few qualms I had about this novel were mostly related to the adults’ reactions. While some of them were understandable (Brian being too focused on his own science, too much of an air-head when it comes to relationships; the Minx as a playful, secret-loving woman who found fun in what her kid was going through; Lucyfar, who openly plays on her ambiguity as a villain who occasionally does good, so she’s left alone…), I thought the Audit, on the other hand, was too oblivious to what was happening. It would’ve worked if she had had a different personality, but I wondered why she, among all the others, didn’t catch that something was going the wrong way? Perhaps this could have been played a little differently. I also wondered about Ray’s family: he seemed frightened of their reaction, and so I wish we had had more of a glimpse into that, more explanations. (Unless this book’s meant to have a sequel, in which case this question might get an answer later, but I don’t know about that yet.)

I’d give this story a 3.5 stars, because of those problems that kept nagging at me. However, I’m still rounding it to a 4. I had fun, plain and simple; I think younger readers would have fun, too; and so I think this has to factor in.

Yzabel / March 11, 2014

Review: Dear Killer

Dear Killer by Katherine Ewell

My rating:[usr 2]

Summary:

Rule One—Nothing is right, nothing is wrong.
Rule Two—Be careful.
Rule Three—Fight using your legs whenever possible, because they’re the strongest part of your body. Your arms are the weakest.
Rule Four—Hit to kill. The first blow should be the last, if at all possible.
Rule Five—The letters are the law.

Kit takes her role as London’s notorious “Perfect Killer” seriously. The letters and cash that come to her via a secret mailbox are not a game; choosing who to kill is not an impulse decision. Every letter she receives begins with “Dear Killer,” and every time Kit murders, she leaves a letter with the dead body. Her moral nihilism and thus her murders are a way of life—the only way of life she has ever known.

But when a letter appears in the mailbox that will have the power to topple Kit’s convictions as perfectly as she commits her murders, she must make a decision: follow the only rules she has ever known, or challenge Rule One, and go from there.

Katherine Ewell’s Dear Killer is a sinister psychological thriller that explores the thin line between good and evil, and the messiness of that inevitable moment when life contradicts everything you believe

Review:

(I got an ARC of this book courtesy of Edelweiss. The book being published by now, a few things may have changed, compared to the version I read.)

I can’t say I hated this novel, but it didn’t leave me with a strong impression either. I expected more darkness from Kit, more moral ambiguity; instead, I found a lot of little things that constantly challenged my suspension of disbelief.

I think the main issue for me was a pitfall a lot of stories about serial killers have to avoid: how to make the killer really dangerous, while also giving him/her flaws that would allow other people to catch him/her? Because, obviously, if the murderer’s so perfect nobody can ever uncover his/her true identity, there’s no challenge, no conflict, in terms of both plot and character development. This is where the story failed for me: Kit is “the Perfect Killer”, but the way she acts in the novel, it’s a wonder she wasn’t caught before. She befriends a Scotland Yard detective and almost immediately gives out information the police’s not supposed to know. She kills in her own school, and sets it up to make herself the only witness. She inserts herself into the investigation, goes back to the crime scenes, even lets one victim go free. She takes some care not to leave prints by using gloves all the time and not resorting to weapons that could be found… but she’s not too savvy when it comes to the more advanced forensic techniques.

Unbelievable, therefore, was the police’s incompetence. Everybody in London seems to know where the “Dear Killer”‘s mailbox is, but the police never found any lead. Kit’s signature are letters from the very people who asked her to kill, containing extremely valuable information about them and the victims; 50 murders later, how come none of those has ever led to a clue, how come the police hasn’t managed to get a confession allowing them to find the mailbox, if only by striking a bargain with a guilt-ridden “customer”? Also, Alex shouldn’t ever have allowed Kit on a crime scene, nor talked about the investigation. This works in Dexter because he’s already a member of the police force—but even Dexter’s presence on some scenes is questioned by his colleagues, when there aren’t any blood splatters to check, so if Dex can’t be there without rising suspicion, how can Kit, the teenager, whose only link with the police is the detective her mother once brought home for dinner?

Then, there’s the ambiguity of Kit’s position regarding her jobs. Is she really a serial killer, or a hired killer? Does she really off people because of some urges, or is she merely doing what her mother taught her, is she what she was brought up to be? Is her moral nihilism truly that, and does she even know where she stands? My qualms with those questions is that they were never really examined, and Kit’s actions and thoughts felt too random to really play a part in what could’ve been serious introspection. Once she says there’s no right nor wrong, and then she seems to believe she kills for justice, but the killing jobs she chooses to carry can’t be justified this way (one guy writes that he wants her to kill his fiancée, because he was involved in a hit-and-run, and now she wants him to confess to the police… so Kit kills the woman, no questions asked, when clearly “justice” would’ve been to get rid of the guy who had already taken a life). I would’ve find it more believable if she had questioned her choices on that level; she starts doing it with the one victim she lets go, but considering who her last victim is at the end, it might as well never have happened.

Kit’s relationship with her mother was probably what kept me reading: extremely unhealthy, riddled with her mom’s own madness. Mrs. Ward: a women who had married a certain man only so that she could be left alone, who had transferred her urges to kill onto her daughter, and basically shaped a kid into a monster. Maybe the idea of a teenage killer was a bit stretched, but it didn’t matter, because there was a reason behind it, and it was something I could go with (children find their first examples in their parents: what if the parents themselves are dysfunctional to the extreme?) Like a trainwreck, it was something I couldn’t help but watch, even though it was deeply unsettling, and just like with Kit’s moments of doubts about her killings, there was something interesting underneath it all, some deep questions to be asked; however, it wasn’t carried far enough in my opinion to shine through. In general, I found Kit’s thoughts and observations remained too much on the surface level, and what could’ve been character growth (acceptance, finding herself through her killings, different moral choices, whatever) only started happening, yet never went there.

Yzabel / March 8, 2014

Review: Alpha Goddess

Alpha Goddess by Amalie Howard

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

In Serjana Caelum’s world, gods exist. So do goddesses. Sera knows this because she is one of them.

A secret long concealed by her parents, Sera is Lakshmi reborn, the human avatar of an immortal Indian goddess rumored to control all the planes of existence. Marked by the sigils of both heaven and hell, Sera’s avatar is meant to bring balance to the mortal world, but all she creates is chaos.

A chaos that Azrath, the Asura Lord of Death, hopes to use to unleash hell on earth.

Torn between reconciling her past and present, Sera must figure out how to stop Azrath before the Mortal Realm is destroyed. But trust doesn’t come easy in a world fissured by lies and betrayal. Her best friend Kyle is hiding his own dark secrets, and her mysterious new neighbor, Devendra, seems to know a lot more than he’s telling.

Struggling between her opposing halves and her attraction to the boys tied to each of them, Sera must become the goddess she was meant to be, or risk failing … sacrificing the world she was born to protect.

Review:

(I got an ebook copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review. This being an Advanced Reader Copy, some things in this novel are still liable to change before its publishing.)

I was mostly interested in this book because of Hindu mythology, something that I haven’t seen used in many stories so far. I only know the basics, so I can’t really tell if everything in Alpha Goddess is exact, or if the author changed a lot of things. I’m not sure I agree with the changes in spelling—why Asuras and Devas couldn’t stay the same, and why there’s a nekomata thrown in the lot, well, I don’t know. (Also, Xibalba is from Maya mythology; no idea either why it was included here.) However, the novel raised interesting questions about choice and redemption, about whether having Asura blood made you “evil” per se, or if you could still walk your own path, and I liked the kind of conundrums some of the characters (well, one of them, actually) had to go through, and what kind of answer he would find.

Another aspect that was a good change, in my opinion, was the love triangle. I’ll be open about that and admit I don’t like love triangles; most are badly written, unbelievable, and look more like the hype cliché to put in your book rather than something really relevant. There is a triangle here, but the nature of the people involved made it so that its outcome could be different: different avatars, different kinds of love, the ability to love one person with one part of one’s soul, yet also love another one with another part… This isn’t something I’ve seen so often—and it didn’t seem like an easy cop-out of “boy/girl gets both love interests”, because, well, it fits with the mythology (at least if I’ve grasped it properly).

The downside for me is that, in the end, the story didn’t click with me. It wasn’t good, it wasn’t bad, it just felt like too many YA stories I’ve read in the past. (Perhaps I’m becoming fed up, and this book had the misfortune of happening at the wrong moment for me, so don’t discard it just because I’m the jaded type.) It uses a lot of the usual YA tropes/clichés. Good boy/bad boy. Girl who finds herself ugly, but is actually a beautiful goddess. Whiny character (Sera). A big secret nobody will tell her about (at first), even though not knowing probably endangers her more. High school drama and rejection (unneeded here, I think, as it didn’t bring anything to the story). Sera gets better in the second half, maybe a little too fast: I’d have liked to see a smoother transition from “clueless girl who doesn’t know who she is” to “badass, demon-ass-kicking warrior”, because that part seemed to come out of the blue. But at least she stopped whining, and did something, even encouraging other characters to less discussion and more action, so bonus point here.

I noted a few inconsistencies, too. Sera’s mother being called Sophia was weird. Some physical descriptions seemed to have been changed at some point, with a few instances of the former descriptions remaining (ARC, though, so this might have been corrected in the meantime).

As I said, I might be just too jaded. If you’re not used to YA with paranormal/supernatural aspects as a genre, you might like it better than I did; it wouldn’t be such a bad introduction to it. If you feel you’ve already read too many similar stories, though, maybe this one isn’t for you either. It’s not “bad”. It just didn’t click for me.

(Grade: “It’s OK”, a.k.a. 2* on Goodreads, 3* on Amazon.)

Yzabel / March 6, 2014

Review: The Necromancer’s Gambit

The Necromancer’s Gambit by Nicolas Wilson

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

Knight, the sheriff of a local magical government known as “the Gambit,” is called to recover a mutilated body, tainted with magic and dumped at a popular haunt. When the corpse is identified as a close associate of the Gambit, it threatens the safety of the community he protects, and those he cares about most. As the fragile peace amongst the city’s magic-wielding factions disintegrates, Knight must track down a cadre of murderers before his friends are picked off, one by one- with each death used to strengthen the spells cast against the Gambit.

Review:

(I got a free copy of this book through ARR #1665 in the Making Connections group, in exchange for an honest review.)

The Necromancer’s Gambit is one of those conundrum books I don’t exactly know how to rate, because it had strong good sides, but also strong points that disagreed with me. Part of me liked it, while another part didn’t really want to go through with it.

Mostly I was really interested in the background it developed, with mages organised in groups (“gambits”) aiming at settling disputes, protecting their cities, and so on. Each gambit has a defined set of members, named after chess pieces, with defined roles: Kings and Queens on the political scene, Rooks as guardians, Knights acting as sheriffs, and so on. These members are also well-versed in different kinds of magic, from tracking spells to necromancy to devising bombs and traps. There are definitely lots of possibilities and combinations here, especially considering the presence of other supernaturals such as vampires in town, and I don’t doubt the series—since this is book #1—aims at exploiting them more later.

There’s also mystery, a noir flavour, murder attempts, murders performed through the use of gruesome magic, necromancy (I’m such a weakling for necromancy)… It’s certainly not a kind world. And the novel plays on enough different aspects, between action and investigation, that a reader will likely find something to his/her taste in it.

However, I found it hard to focus on the story, and it came down to two problems for me. The first was editing. Some sentences had a weird structure, making them hard to follow (punctuation included). Sometimes, it was also difficult to follow who was talking, and who was the POV character for a given chapter (mostly Knight, with forays into Rook’s and Pawn’s sides of the adventure). Also, I think some bits of dialogue should’ve been omitted, as they made scenes a little too long. This ties into the second problem: a serious overload of sexual jokes and innuendos? Now, this is coming from someone whose degree of well-being is measured by her friends by the amount of dirty jokes she makes (I’m worse in that regard than most men I know). Such jokes normally don’t bother me… but there were just too many of them, in situations where they fell flat and disrupted the narrative flow. Almost every character would sooner or later talk about his junk—or someone else’s; more than once I found myself thinking “why aren’t they getting to the point instead of mentioning X’s dick or Y’s boobs or whatever? It’s been going on for ten chapters.” As a consequence of those two issues, I tended to lose track too often, and I bet it prevented me from seeing some of the more subtle sides of the story. (A shame, since betrayal’s involved.)

I’m definitely liking the world those characters evolve in, and I wouldn’t mind discovering more about it. As it was, though, I’d have appreciated it much more without all the asides.

Yzabel / March 3, 2014

Review: The Deep End of the Sea

The Deep End of the Sea by Heather Lyons

My rating: [rating=5]

Summary:

What if all the legends you’ve learned were wrong?

Brutally attacked by one god and unfairly cursed by another she faithfully served, Medusa has spent the last two thousand years living out her punishment on an enchanted isle in the Aegean Sea. A far cry from the monster legends depict, she’s spent her time educating herself, gardening, and desperately trying to frighten away adventure seekers who occasionally end up, much to her dismay, as statues when they manage to catch her off guard. As time marches on without her, Medusa wishes for nothing more than to be given a second chance at a life stolen away at far too young an age.

But then comes a day when Hermes, one of the few friends she still has and the only deity she trusts, petitions the rest of the gods and goddesses to reverse the curse. Thus begins a journey toward healing and redemption, of reclaiming a life after tragedy, and of just how powerful friendship and love can be—because sometimes, you have to sink in the deep end of the sea before you can rise back up again.

Review:

I’m probably not the right public for romance, and it’s too bad: I have to admit that there were a few moments during which I wanted this story to go just a little faster (surely a reader who has more love, no pun intended, for romance in general, would have enjoyed those more). However, I still found The Deep End of the Sea a fascinating read. Because to me, its real focus is not romance: it’s abuse, and how to conquer the fears it plants into a person—told through the tale of Medusa.

Bonus points, anyway, for: no insta-love; love that develops from a long friendship; no stinkin’ triangle (Poseidon doesn’t count, he’s a creep and Medusa doesn’t consider him as an acceptable alternative even once); love is great suppot, but not the miracle solution to every problem (Medusa has to literally and figuratively stand on her own two feet through her own willpower).

The author has taken a few liberties with some of the Greek myths here, but I think they work. After all, those deities were never depicted as perfect, far from it: they had all the merits and flaws human beings could have; in many ways, they were just as humans as those who worshipped them; and as such, I wasn’t surprised to see them portrayed here in slightly different colours than the ones I was used to. I could probably choose to be a nitpicker, but… I don’t want to.

Anyway, back to what really gripped me. This story deserves to be read not to get a shot of romance, but to think about what abuse (more specifically rape) entails. It addresses a lot of the crap usually heard: that the victim “deserved it”, that she was “looking for it”. It covered the way abusers will act, and even convince themselves that they’re not at fault, that what they did was genuine, that their victim was rightfully theirs, and should be forever. Twisted, insane love to the power of ten. Hateful thoughts from the punisher towards the person who was abused twice, once by her rapist, then by the one she served and thought would help her. Guilt-tripping the victim, making her feel like the one at fault. And, last but not least, the victim herself locking her life into abuse of her own, because she hasn’t come to terms with what she went through. Even two thousand years of isolation can’t delete such a trial from one’s mind: deep inside, Medusa hadn’t faced her fears yet.

This story calls bullshit on all of this, and doesn’t use romance as an excuse to awful behaviours, the way too many books do in my opinion. No, it’s not okay to force yourself on a woman (or on anyone, as a general rule) just because she’s pretty, just because one thinks he’s in love with her. It’s never okay. Poseidon has no right to claim Medusa as his own. Nobody should make decisions for her. She didn’t deserve what happened to her, but justice being served is only the first step on a much more important road, that of finding herself again, learning to let go of the pain, to allow herself to love: a victim no more, but a strong person who refuses to be shamed any longer, especially when the ones pointing the finger are the ones who should shut up the most. (Medusa being turned into a monster, blaming herself—and being blamed by others—for the deaths she caused in that form, was quite an accurate manner, in my opinion, to reflect how way too often, victims are driven to consider themselves guilty, to see themselves as “monsters” of sorts.)

Replace Medusa’s story with that of countless people who’ve been harrassed, abused, raped, then blamed for it. And there you have it.

Also, while there were of course some really hateful figures in this story, I appreciated how support was shown, and not necessarily where it was expected. Hermes, of course, is an obvious support to Medusa; we get that from the blurb, and the narrative confirms it. But really, would you expect Hades to care? Well, yes, the Lord of the Underworld does. Not only that, but he’s seriously spot-on, and I couldn’t put it better:
“Niece,” he stresses, mimicking her formality, “this isn’t the first time you’ve overstepped your bounds by punishing innocents; this one just so happens to be the last remaining victim. If you even try to spew that victim blaming crap again, I’ll take you down to the Underworld with me for a spell. Maybe then you can understand what true justice entails.”

Support didn’t come only from other women, it also came from men. It wasn’t a one-sided, “women support women and men stand up for men” story, thus placing the real focus far abovesuch differences, at a purely human level.

Although I do have a couple of minor quibbles, they never became a problem, so I’m willing to ignore them, and keep stressing how positive and beautiful this novel was (all the more when I compare it to other stories I’ve read, full of so-called “romantic” yet actually creepy behaviours that scream impending abuse to me).