arc Archives - Page 14 of 31

Yzabel / July 29, 2016

Review: Machinations

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

The machines have risen, but not out of malice. They were simply following a command: to stop the endless wars that have plagued the world throughout history. Their solution was perfectly logical. To end the fighting, they decided to end the human race.

A potent symbol of the resistance, Rhona Long has served on the front lines of the conflict since the first Machinations began—until she is killed during a rescue mission gone wrong. Now Rhona awakens to find herself transported to a new body, complete with her DNA, her personality, even her memories. She is a clone . . . of herself.

Trapped in the shadow of the life she once knew, the reincarnated Rhona must find her place among old friends and newfound enemies—and quickly. For the machines are inching closer to exterminating humans for good. And only Rhona, whoever she is now, can save them.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

1.5 stars. Not quite an OK story for me. There were several deal-breakers here, including the “bland” narrator, the romance part, and the 1st person POV present tense narration, not to mention the science & technology parts that weren’t detailed enough.

First, present tense: I find it very difficult to make this type of narrative voice work, and often it just doesn’t at all. I can’t exactly pinpoint how exactly, but I know it made me cringe often enough that I stopped counting. It doesn’t bother me so much in short stories, although I suspect that’s because they’re short and I don’t have to trudge through that tense for a whole novel.

Second, Rhona herself. I couldn’t bring myself to care. Sure, we have that first chapter scene, and it seems intense, and… that’s all? After that, she wakes up as the “new” Rhona, yet it’s difficult to compare her to the one she has supposedly replaced. Perhaps because the novel doesn’t show us enough of the “original Rhona”. Perhaps because the new one is too self-centered and not active enough to stand by herself, watching from the sidelines half the time. Of course there wouldn’t be any point if she immediately found herself again, was the exact same person. I just wish she had been more than a woman who mostly behaved like a somewhat shy teenager—and this brings me to…

…The romance: too much of it, and, as in too many novels, the only real form of validation. The whole quest-for-humanity part, Rhona having to find out whether she IS Rhona or merely a carbon-copy without humanity nor soul, is definitely an interesting theme… but why do such things -always- have to be presented in the light of romance? As if only True Love (whatever that means) could validate one’s existence. Who cares that Sam, her best friend, is with her all story long and doesn’t give a fig about whether she’s Rhona or not (for him, she’s his friend, period)? The really important part is to find out when The One True Love finally acknowledges her. And I feel all these stories completely miss the point: that there is so much more to a person than their so-called significant other, that they’re the sum of so many more factors than just that one restrictive form of love. Meanwhile…

… the machines, the science, the technology: too few and too little of those, considering the blurb that made me request the book at first. This story would’ve benefitted from more explanations when it came to the cloning part, considering how it permeated the whole narrative. Rhona is a physical clone, but her memories (or part of them) were also transplanted. How? A chip to map neural pathways and transfer data is briefly mentioned, yet much more was needed here to satisfy the vague scientist in me (I don’t think I’m asking for too much here). As for the machines, they weren’t present enough in order for the human survivors to be truly pitched against them, as well as for Rhona to be fully confronted to her new “nature” that, in a way, made her a biological machine. They felt more like the threat in the background, over-simplified, although they could’ve been made more “alive” (no pun intended here: I really think there was potential here for a chiasmus between human-Rhona-turned-thing and things/machines-turned-sentient).

This novel should’ve grabbed my interest, for sure, but it turned out it wasn’t for me. Alas.

Yzabel / July 22, 2016

Review: This Savage Song

This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Kate Harker and August Flynn are the heirs to a divided city—a city where the violence has begun to breed actual monsters. All Kate wants is to be as ruthless as her father, who lets the monsters roam free and makes the humans pay for his protection. All August wants is to be human, as good-hearted as his own father, to play a bigger role in protecting the innocent—but he’s one of the monsters. One who can steal a soul with a simple strain of music. When the chance arises to keep an eye on Kate, who’s just been kicked out of her sixth boarding school and returned home, August jumps at it. But Kate discovers August’s secret, and after a failed assassination attempt the pair must flee for their lives.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.]

Took me a while to get to this one, I don’t know why, so apologies to the publisher—I’ve had the ARC for a few months.

I guess it didn’t turn out like I thought, although I don’t know what I expected. Something more… intense? Savage, like the title? More action? Or maybe for the “failed assassination” part to happen sooner?

On the one hand, I really liked some of the concepts introduced here. First, the city divided between North and South, each side in the hands of “leaders” with their own ruthless ways—one a mobster-like crime lord who keeps the monsters in check by being a monster, too, and the other a benevolent military type who nevertheless has no qualms to associate with monsters as well. Second, the way those monsters are born: the shadowy Corsai from violence that doesn’t result in death, the Malchai from actual murder, and the Sunai for massacres, which contrasts in a terribly beautiful way with how they feed: born from the ugliest acts of violence, of dozens, hundreds, thousands of people killed in bombings and the likes, yet performing their killings through enchanting music. And let’s not forget the conundrum of the monster who wants to be human, who knows he cannot be, and who risks turning into an even worse monster if he denies his nature (not feeding basically means he’ll turn into a mass-murder predator, then will wake up having lost some bits of his hard-won personality… forever).

Also, no romance. Seriously. Not for one moment is it implied that Kate and August are meant to end up with each other in that way. As reluctant partners-in-crime? As friends at some point? Sure. But no twu wuv for these two, and that’s a breath of fresh air in a category (YA) where you know almost every main lead will meet one, potentially two (or more!) love interests.

Wonderful, wonderful ideas. The boy-monster who desperately wants to be human, even trying to believe in that dream when he gets to attend a school full of human beings, and the girl who’s ready to any length, including threatening her schoolmates and setting fire to a chapel at night, in order for her father to finally acknowledge her—meaning she needs to be as bad as him for that to happen, therefore turning into her own kind of monster.

And yet… Yet I couldn’t feel much of a pulse in the story. Maybe it went too slowly. Maybe it’s the kind of story where the characters need to be thrown in the action first, and then get to meet and to know each other, to discover their respective secrets and accept who they are (and who the other is). The Colton Academy part was perhaps too long, with August and Kate appearing like generic characters rather than real people (they remained a bit bland throughout the novel, in my opinion). And while I tend to like information about the world being given regularly, distilled between two events or two dialogues, instead of being chunked at the reader in huge blocks of info-dumping, in the end I still don’t know what that world is made of. Strangely enough, I may not have minded this if the story had been set in V-City only, with “The City” as a character itself; here, it was too much a “yet another USA turned dystopian for some unknown reason”.

Conclusion: loved the concepts, execution though was too weak compared to what could’ve been (and I know it definitely could’ve been, coming from this author!).

Yzabel / June 11, 2016

Review: Jane Steele

Jane Steele by Lyndsay Faye

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Like the heroine of the novel she adores, Jane Steele suffers cruelly at the hands of her aunt and schoolmaster. And like Jane Eyre, they call her wicked – but in her case, she fears the accusation is true. When she flees, she leaves behind the corpses of her tormentors.

A fugitive navigating London’s underbelly, Jane rights wrongs on behalf of the have-nots whilst avoiding the noose. Until an advertisement catches her eye. Her aunt has died and the new master at Highgate House, Mr Thornfield, seeks a governess. Anxious to know if she is Highgate’s true heir, Jane takes the position and is soon caught up in the household’s strange spell. When she falls in love with the mysterious Charles Thornfield, she faces a terrible dilemma: can she possess him – body, soul and secrets – and what if he discovers her murderous past?

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

I have a weak spot both for retellings and for “Jane Eyre”, so no wonder I’d request this novel. And it turned out to be fairly interesting, although it’s more “inspired by” than an actual “retelling”, and at times my attention waned a little—not sure if it’s because of the book or just me being myself, that is, with the attention span of a dead amoeba. Also, I don’t why, I had forgotten that the novel was set in the 19th century, and was surprised at first that it wasn’t set in some contemporary UK. Dead amoeba, I tell you.

Jane Steele, who incidentally is an avid re-reader of the original “Jane Eyre” story, is, like her heroine, an orphan surrounded with a hostile family that mocks her at best and generally despises her. Her mother being an artist and a laudanum-addict doesn’t exactly help. However, unlike Jane Eyre, Miss Steele early enough takes matters into her own hands by despatching those who are in her way. These aren’t just random murders committed by a psychopath, though, and her victims aren’t exactly goody-two-shoes. Jane is actually trying to protect the people she really loves, not obeying some dark unexplained instincts. And so this brings quite a few questions about whether killing might be seen as “justified” in some cases, or not? After all, so many people kill others in wars, and it’s seen as “justified” and not “murder” because “it’s for your country”… so why wouldn’t “it’s for love” be good enough a reason either?

And there you have it. There are killings in this novel, yet they come second to complex relationships among very different people. Thornfield and his Sikh family. The girls at Lowan School, united in misery through a perverse net of betrayal and friendships disguised as hate (unless it’s the contrary?). Jane and her cousin who could so very well end up raping her. Jane and her mother, and these two and Aunt Patience, because there must be a reason for the latter to despise them so much.

There were a few funny moments, especially when the inspector was concerned—well, I did find them funny, especially with Jane constantly trying to escape him. And I also liked the way assault/rape was handled, as it turns out not so many characters in there blame the lady, and do think instead that, yes, she’s not the one at fault at all.

To be honest, I preferred the first part of the novel, with Jane’s years at school with the other girls. The plot in the second part was nice, but… the pacing and the setting in general were less thrilling (which is too bad, for Sardar and the others provided characters and a setting that screamed “badass”)… not to mention that, in spite of the inclusion of a large cast of Sikh people, in the end what could have broken the typical colonialist/jingoist mould of many Victorian-era stories just didn’t do that. (It’s still about white people finding happiness, and the non-white ones kind of get the shaft.)

As for the romance, of course it was meant to mirror the one in “Jane Eyre”, in a fashion, however I never really felt any chemistry between Jane and Charles: it felt more as if they were destined to end up together because Brontë’s characters did, and not because of their traits as people.

Conclusion: I really liked the beginning, so I’m still giving this book 3 stars. The second half and ending didn’t do much for me, though.

Yzabel / June 7, 2016

Review: Dear Amy

Dear Amy by Helen Callaghan

My rating: [rating=1]

Blurb:

Margot Lewis is the agony aunt for The Cambridge Examiner. Her advice column, Dear Amy, gets all kinds of letters – but none like the one she’s just received:

Dear Amy,
I don’t know where I am. I’ve been kidnapped and am being held prisoner by a strange man. I’m afraid he’ll kill me.
Please help me soon,
Bethan Avery

Bethan Avery has been missing for years. This is surely some cruel hoax. But, as more letters arrive, they contain information that was never made public. How is this happening? Answering this question will cost Margot everything . . .

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Entertaining but not much more than that, I’m afraid. I liked reading this novel, only the mystery wasn’t so deep, and I kept wondering why other characters didn’t challenge this or that plot point more.

It started well enough with Margot, our narrator, struggling in her personal life: her ex-husband wants the house, she’s pondering her own anxiety-related issues (not to mention “shouldn’t I go off my meds now that I’m feeling better?), and one of her former students has vanished in strange circumstances. On top of her job in posh St. Hilda’s school in Cambridge, she also manages an agony aunt column, “Dear Amy”, in a local newspaper. So when letters are sent to her mailbox at said newspaper, from a girl who was abducted and probably killed some twenty years ago, this only adds to Margot’s confusion, while nevertheless pricking her curiosity. There could be a life at stake here… and perhaps even more.

The original abductee, Bethan Avery, was never found, and it’s clearly weird for her to be writing letters, all the more because, from their tone, it seems she’s still captive! So is she a victim, or an accomplice? I thought this was quite a challenging premise. I still think it is. However, two issues arose while I was reading:

1/ I found it easy enough to guess the outcome of the mystery around Bethan.
2/ This part of the novel led to several plot holes that were never filled. For instance, it was never made clear whether the police tested the letters for fingerprints, and too many people either dismissed them as a prank, or didn’t wonder enough about how Bethan-the-captive-girl could’ve sent them. As a result, it diminished their importance, made the whole thing seem far-fetched, and I think that’s part of what allowed me to sense what was wrong here, and take an eductaed guess (turned out I was right).

My other gripes in general concerned:
– How the characters weren’t so much fleshed out as placed there like “token psychological thriller chars” (the psychologist, the potential love interest who helps the narrator…);
– The handling of mental disorders, both through the narrative and through other chars (that Greta psychologist was rather inept);
– Some cliché plot devices, like the culprit’s actions (creepy but could’ve been handled better), or both landline AND mobile phone cut at the same time (is GSM cover so bad around Cambridge, and do all batteries die so quickly? I never kill mine like that, and that’s after spending commuting time playing games on it…);
– And, to be honest, I didn’t really connect with Margot or anyone else in the novel. Mostly they were too infuriating, in one way or another, and didn’t redeem themselves much through other actions or personality traits.

That said, I liked parts of the second main arc (the abducted girl one). It highlighted the plight of all the murdered girls, as well as Bethan’s. It allowed for a thrilling intruder-in-the-hope scene. Its ending was sort of predictable, but somehow that didn’t matter too much, because it’s kind of what I wanted to read anyway.

On the side of writing: I don’t know if this was because I read an ARC—maybe this was changed in the published version—but often present and past tense mixed in a scene or even a paragraph without the narrative justifying it, and I found this jarring.

1.5 stars? I can’t say I hated this book, but it’s a mix between “OK” and “slight dislike”—I really wish the idea at its root had been handled better…

Yzabel / June 5, 2016

Review: HEX

HEX by Thomas Olde Heuvelt

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Whoever is born here, is doomed to stay until death. Whoever comes to stay, never leaves.

Welcome to Black Spring, the seemingly picturesque Hudson Valley town haunted by the Black Rock Witch, a seventeenth-century woman whose eyes and mouth are sewn shut. Blind and silenced, she walks the streets and enters homes at will. She stands next to children’s beds for nights on end. So accustomed to her have the townsfolk become that they often forget she’s there. Or what a threat she poses. Because if the stitches are ever cut open, the story goes, the whole town will die.

The curse must not be allowed to spread. The elders of Black Spring have used high-tech surveillance to quarantine the town. Frustrated with being kept in lockdown, the town’s teenagers decide to break the strict regulations and go viral with the haunting. But, in so doing, they send the town spiraling into a dark nightmare.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

I do love stories set in little towns with secrets, and especially when said secrets are quite “normal” there, and only outsiders would get really shocked about them because the locals have gone… numb and used to them? It’s definitely creepy, and keeps making me wonder when the crap’s going to hit the fan, when the normalcy of horror will become actual horror, when the mask will be thrown away and it’s showtime. Something like that.

Well, at some point it’s showtime in “HEX”, clearly. The only question is “when”.

It starts with a very normal day in the lives of the Normal McNormal family, in Normal Town, USA. Except for the woman who gets crushed by an organ right at the beginning (and that’s when you do a double-take and think “wait, what? I’d better pay more attention to what I’m reading.”). That’s what got me from the start: the feeling that something troubling was was presented as normal, and everybody but me just went about their day without blinking an eye. Soon enough more information surfaces, through other everyday scenes: the Grant family having dinner while a mysterious “Gramma” sits in the next room with a napkin on her head… The council/local organisation policing the town keeping an eye on a couple of newcomers, desperately trying to dissuade them from buying a house in Black Spring. These first chapters were really intriguing and I couldn’t wait to read more.

I didn’t like this novel more, though, because I think at some point, the horror became a little too… close? As in, when you KNOW what’s going to happen, when you KNOW things are going to get very wrong and you suspect how they’re going to unfold, when you start foreseeing such events, there’s always a risk, at least in my case, of distanciating myself from the story in advance. I guess that’s what happened here, and when all the bad things befell various characters, it didn’t creep me out so much anymore. Perhaps that’s just my personal problem with horror stories, and I unconsciously distance myself from their events. Perhaps I don’t do that all the time. It takes a very, very fine and fragile balance to take me where I’d like to be (caring about the characters, feeling invested to the point that every setback for them will be a blow for me).

The normalcy factor and many characters being a bit cliché may also have “helped” in not making me care too much : trying too much killed the effort, so to speak. The Grants look like a too perfect family (the mother doesn’t do much except being the Good Wife, to be honest), the teenagers’ exactions on the witch ended up being more of the sensational-seeking kind than really creepy, the HEX people were forgettable, the new couple settling in town were, in the end, just an excuse to hand out a block of information (they never did anything noteworthy after that)…

Finally, I also felt Katherine’s involvement wasn’t too clear : she’s dangerous but she also was a victim ; there’s a curse but you never know how exactly it started and/or manifests through the witch (“touching her” and “living in Black Spring” are a bit vague); so developments towards the end didn’t make as much sense as would’ve been needed to drive the horror through. As if the plot here kept sitting on the fence, not knowing whether to go the way of humans or monsters. Which is too bad, because there’s that whole theme of “the curse we inflict upon ourselves by forgetting we’re humans and by turning against each other as if we had never learnt anything”.

There were “good” horror moments (the search for the dog at night…) but in the end it was an “OK” book for me, nothing more. 2 to 2.5 stars.

Yzabel / May 29, 2016

Review: White Sand (Volume 1)

White Sand, Volume 1 by Brandon Sanderson

My rating:[rating=2]

Blurb:

A brand new saga of magic and adventure by #1 New York Times best-selling author Brandon Sanderson. On the planet of Taldain, the legendary Sand Masters harness arcane powers to manipulate sand in spectacular ways. But when they are slaughtered in a sinister conspiracy, the weakest of their number, Kenton, believes himself to be the only survivor. With enemies closing in on all sides, Kenton forges an unlikely partnership with Khriss — a mysterious Darksider who hides secrets of her own. White Sand brings to life a crucial, unpublished part of Brandon Sanderson’s sprawling Cosmere universe. The story has been adapted by Rik Hoskin (Mercy Thompson), with art by Julius Gopez and colors by Ross Campbell. Employing powerful imagery and Sanderson’s celebrated approach to magical systems, White Sand is a spectacular new saga for lovers of fantasy and adventure.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

First things first, I’ve never read anything by Brandon Sanderson (not yet, at least), so I have no idea if this compares to his novels.

As a comics, it was OK, but I wasn’t awed. Possibly because the PDF version I got was kind of blurry, more certainly because the style was a bit too rough to my liking and because of some things that didn’t make a lot of sense (or were missing) in hindsight when it came to world-building. On one hand, some panels contain a lot of text and explanations, which doesn’t always work too well in a graphic novel; on the other, in spite of those walls of text, little was actually *explained* when it came to all the questions raised.

For instance:
– All the Sandmasters we see are men. I don’t recall any women. Why? Kenton’s mother is mentioned as having come from Darkside, and there’s a point where he wonders about whether he has any brothers “or sisters” left, but where are these sisters? I don’t recall any women anywhere, either among the Sand Masters themselves or back at their enclave, and this just seems… weird. It’s never explained, there isn’t any line, not even one, about women living somewhere else, or not developing powers over sand and thus not studying with the men, etc.
– Re: Darkside and Dayside, the whole dichotomy doesn’t make a lot of sense. The people living under the blazing sun all year long are light-skinned, and the ones living on the presumably “dark side” (no sunlight there, ever? Or are they living in caves?) are dark-skinned. So, sure, I like it when we don’t go with the usual clichés, yet biologically-speaking, and in a science fiction story, it’s not really believable. I could buy, for instance, “drows have dark skin and white hair” in the Forgotten Realms ‘verse Because It’s Magic or their dark goddess making them like that or anything; here, I’d need an actual scientific explanation to be satisfied.

All this to say that, as is often the case when such a problem arises in a world where a scientific basis is expected, things that don’t make sense tend to keep me unfocused on the actual story: as soon as anything new pops up, I always find myself wondering why it is like that, and how it’s supposed to be justified.

The Darksiders have a sort of “19th century British empire” flavour, with their way of seeing the Daysiders as uncouth and not very civilised, and this is a bit problematic (that theme always is): had they been light-skinned people, it would’ve been too close to events that happened in history, but turning the tables here didn’t work too well for me. What I mean by this is that it felt like the author wanted such a civilisation in his story but didn’t want them to be “the civilised white people vs. the dark-skinned savages”, yet at the same time making them dark-skinned clashes with what you’d expect from people living on that “dark side of the planet” all the time. This was weird, and, I don’t know, I guess another option would’ve been more believable?

(This said, I liked them graphically-speaking. The Duchess was stylish and quite amiable, and the items they carry hint at mechanical inventions I wouldn’t mind seeing more.)

Mostly this story was an easy read, with some good fight-and-magic scenes. However, I’m likely to forget about it quickly, to be honest. 2.5 stars.

Yzabel / May 27, 2016

Review: Fluence

Fluence: A Contemporary Dystopian Novel by Stephen Oram

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Amber is young and ambitious. Martin is burnt out by years of struggling. She cheats to get what she wants while he barely clings on to what he has.
It’s the week before the annual Pay Day when strata positions are decided by the controlling corporations. The social media feed is frenetic with people trying to boost their influence rating while those above the strata and those who’ve opted out pursue their own manipulative goals.
Set in a dystopian London, ‘Fluence’ is a story of aspiration and desperation and of power seen and unseen. It’s a story of control and consequence. It’s the story of the extremes to which Amber and Martin are prepared to go in these last ten thousand minutes before Pay Day.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

This was quite a gripping, intriguing and also worrying dystopian story. Set in a not so future London, where the government has failed and corporations have taken over, it deals with a lot of themes that seem potentially “silly” at first, yet quickly make you wonder more and more about whether this is possible or not… whether we might be close to that already, or not.

Society in “Fluence” is divided into stratae: at the top, the Reds, kind of a nobility that takes care of its own; at the bottom, the violets, and even lower the whites (people who’ve opted out of the system for various reasons: disability, being overstressed because of the system, and so on). Both main characters, Amber and Martin, work for a branch meant to deal with requests by various people to become “white”, and the approach taken here is rather chilling, casting a crude light on various questions—money and budget cuts remain, unsurprisingly, weighing factors.

Originally a Violet, Amber managed to climb her way to Yellow a first time, but had to drop back to Green after her first (Orange) husband died. Obsessed by the idea of going back to yellow status, she spends her day acting a role, going out to parties and events she chooses depending on how many “points” they’ll earn her, and updating her personal feed so that people will vote for her—basically Facebook-like social networking pushed to the extreme, and let’s be honest: isn’t that a bit the case already for us today? Couldn’t we easily veer towards a similar system at some point?

Meanwhile, Martin is her polar opposite: older, tired of struggling to keep his place at Green level, but feeling forced to it because he wants his family to be happy. His own issues include his growing difficulty to perform well in his job, understanding the points/Fluence game, and his son, not legally adult yet, who’s living on the fringe of society and doing shady deals with shady people.

While a bit rough in places, this story was highly entertaining, with more than just one twist that at some point seriously makes you start questioning what you’re reading: who’s manipulating who, who’s betraying who, who’s threatening this or that character, who’s a real friend or only acting the part to earh yet more points… All this is both somewhat grotesque (the bulimia shows, the obscene parties…) and frighteningly believable (our obsession with ranking, performing well, being under constant scrutiny…). And even though the plot could’ve been a bit tighter and better defined, in the end it didn’t matter that much to me, as I still enjoyed the various scenes and situations the characters went through.

3.5 to 4 stars.

Yzabel / May 26, 2016

Review: The Fireman

The Fireman by Joe Hill

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

No one knows exactly when it began or where it originated. A terrifying new plague is spreading like wildfire across the country, striking cities one by one: Boston, Detroit, Seattle. The doctors call it Draco Incendia Trychophyton. To everyone else it’s Dragonscale, a highly contagious, deadly spore that marks its hosts with beautiful black and gold marks across their bodies—before causing them to burst into flames. Millions are infected; blazes erupt everywhere. There is no antidote. No one is safe.

Harper Grayson, a compassionate, dedicated nurse as pragmatic as Mary Poppins, treated hundreds of infected patients before her hospital burned to the ground. Now she’s discovered the telltale gold-flecked marks on her skin. When the outbreak first began, she and her husband, Jakob, had made a pact: they would take matters into their own hands if they became infected. To Jakob’s dismay, Harper wants to live—at least until the fetus she is carrying comes to term. At the hospital, she witnessed infected mothers give birth to healthy babies and believes hers will be fine too. . . if she can live long enough to deliver the child.

Convinced that his do-gooding wife has made him sick, Jakob becomes unhinged, and eventually abandons her as their placid New England community collapses in terror. The chaos gives rise to ruthless Cremation Squads—armed, self-appointed posses roaming the streets and woods to exterminate those who they believe carry the spore. But Harper isn’t as alone as she fears: a mysterious and compelling stranger she briefly met at the hospital, a man in a dirty yellow fire fighter’s jacket, carrying a hooked iron bar, straddles the abyss between insanity and death. Known as The Fireman, he strolls the ruins of New Hampshire, a madman afflicted with Dragonscale who has learned to control the fire within himself, using it as a shield to protect the hunted . . . and as a weapon to avenge the wronged.

In the desperate season to come, as the world burns out of control, Harper must learn the Fireman’s secrets before her life—and that of her unborn child—goes up in smoke.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.]

I don’t really know what happened. I guess for now, I’m not with the majority of readers? I thought I’d enjoy this novel much more than I did, and… well, I didn’t dislike it, but I didn’t care much about it either. The fact it took me one month to finish it, even though it’s not a complicated book (we’re not talking hard non-fiction university topics here), is proof enough, I guess?

The basic idea was good. Although I found the science behind the Dragonscale is a bit wishy-washy, in itself, it could have worked if the plot had been more… enthralling? It started well enough, with a potential (and loathsome) antagonist almost straight off the bat, and a main character, Harper, who’s a bit of a pushover, but with room to evolve and overall positive features. The story introduced harsh themes, too: for instance, Harper and Jakob had that “contract” that if they were to get infected, they’d die together peacefully, before the Dragonscale burnt them to a crips like it did for all the other infected people. Except that Harper finds out she’s pregnant and infected almost at the same time, and suddenly the choice isn’t so easy anymore—she wants to live, for herself as much as for the baby. Jakob doesn’t agree so much, and that’s where the first batch of crap hits the fan.

The story follows Harper during her pregnancy, as she tries to figure out how to go on, how to survive, who she can entrust her child with once they’re born… As her path crosses with that of the Fireman’s, she finds herself involved with other infected people, and realises that there’s so much more to Dragonscale than meet the eye…

…And from then on, my interested gradually dwindled. I’m not so sure how to explain that. I think it was a mix of events unfolding too slowly (considering the apocalyptic setting), combined with somewhat long-winded writing, characters that remained more one-dimensional, and elements I’m didn’t particularly cared about. Mostly:

– Harper has this thing with Mary Poppins, staying positive, etc. and in the end, even though she was relatively resourceful in general, there wasn’t that much more to her. Father Storey is a nice and probably too naïve man and… that’s all. The Fireman is supposed to be a larger than life figure, but he doesn’t do that much, all things considered, and his influence on the story wasn’t as exciting as the blurb led me to think. The “slightly crazy cult leader” character is just that. Jakob remains just loathsome when he could’ve been a terrifying figure. And so on.

– The cult/camp is a hit-or-miss element for me. I’ve always thought there was something fascinating—well, fascinating like a train-wreck—in those communities centered around one or two leader characters, with everybody foollowing blindly and outsiders/dissenters being shunned, castigated, thrown out, etc. But it just didn’t work so well for me here.

– At times the characters spent too much time debating and discussing instead of being proactive. It was a bit boring.

– The collapse of society itself didn’t always make much sense. Some places have electricity when it’s supposed to be gone and there’s not that much of an explanation. Or cell phones: months later the network’s still up. There was an annoying dichotoomy between the apparent collapse and sudden elements turning out to be working perfectly well when you wouldn’t expect them to anymore.

– I also had a hard time with chapters regularly ending in foreshadowing. As in: “But the CDC team never got to look at it, because by the time August rolled around Portsmouth Hospital was a hollowed-out chimney, gutted by fire, and Dr. Ryall was dead, along with Albert Holmes, Nurse Lean, and over five hundred patients.” (That’s in an early chapter, not too much oof a spoiler, by the way.) So, sure, it’s an apocaplytpic/post-apocalyptic setting, and you do expect people to die and things to go bad… doesn’t mean I want it to be spelled out every time before it happens. Even though I know nothing good will last, I still want to be surprised as to what bad things will happen.

Conclusion: As said, good ideas, especially the way the ‘Scale behaved once one tried to understand how it really worked, but the plot, pacing and characters didn’t made much of an impression on me.

Yzabel / April 13, 2016

Review: The Star-Touched Queen

The Star-Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Cursed with a horoscope that promises a marriage of Death and Destruction, sixteen-year-old Maya has only earned the scorn and fear of her father’s kingdom. Content to follow more scholarly pursuits, her world is upheaved when her father, the Raja, arranges a wedding of political convenience to quell outside rebellions. But when her wedding takes a fatal turn, Maya becomes the queen of Akaran and wife of Amar. Yet neither roles are what she expected. As Akaran’s queen, she finds her voice and power. As Amar’s wife, she finds friendship and warmth.

But Akaran has its own secrets – thousands of locked doors, gardens of glass, and a tree that bears memories instead of fruit. Beneath Akaran’s magic, Maya begins to suspect her life is in danger. When she ignores Amar’s plea for patience, her discoveries put more than new love at risk – it threatens the balance of all realms, human and Otherworldly.

Now, Maya must confront a secret that spans reincarnated lives and fight her way through the dangerous underbelly of the Otherworld if she wants to protect the people she loves.

Review:

[I received an ARC of this novel through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A story reminiscent of several “seeking one’s beloved in another world” tales and myths, with an Indian twist and the including of reincarnation. This led to an interesting shift in balance, as both main characters sought each other, first Amar seeking, then Maya searching for Amar.

Amar is, obviously, the Mysterious Stranger of the tale: tall, dark and handsome, with love in his eyes and words but secrets that he cannot reveal before a certain event is past. In a way, his choosing Maya was akin to insta-love, which I usually don’t like; here, it fit within the reincarnation theme permeating the novel, so at least there was *that* explanation. Not the best or the most original, but eh, it worked, and it was logical in that specific setting. Also, it helps that he was a pretty decent person overall: with a dash of “unnerving mysterious love interest”, yet never falling into the dominant-jerk template so many male love interests in YA seem to be created with. Although the mystery about who he truly was may have made him look at times a bit too “controlling” (in keeping information to himself) in spite of his claims of wanting Maya to rule as his equal. There are explanations to this secrecy later, tied into the supernatural/mythological background.

Maya was a good character to follow, in that she’s born under a bad horoscope, has been shunned in many ways from birth in spite of being a princess, yet isn’t complaining all the time. She may be petty with her tutors so that she can spy on her father (and learn the ropes of true leadership), resent the harem wives, but she didn’t strike me as someone with a terribly negative, depressed view of life. She tried to remain stoic when faced with a dire choice with dire consequences, but kept looking for chances to grab a “third choice” (escape) when she could.

I admit I didn’t like her too much when she made *the* choice mid-novel, though. I felt it wasn’t exactly justified, prompted only by a few lies and one bit of conversation. It would’ve made more sense if Maya had been confronted to similar occurrences more than just a couple of times.

The prose was mostly flowing, with really vivid descriptions at times, conveying beautiful images of enchanted, preternatural lands where legendary beings dwellt as if this was the most normal thing in the world. And I think this was a strong point: the book didn’t explain much about those beings, didn’t justify their existence… but it was totally OK, because it managed to show them as part of the natural order, as unquestionable. It made sense, completely, and no explanation was actually needed.

On the other hand, in a “it’s not you, book, it’s me” fashion, I sometimes found it difficult to remain invested in the story. Perhaps it was the rhythm, or the descriptions? (I can appreciate beautiful descriptions, yet still want more action/dialogues; it’s a bit paradoxical, I know.) I don’t think it’s any fault of the novel itself, just a bad reading timing on my part.

I would also have liked seeing more of Nritti’s reasons for acting the way she did. I understand what prompted her to choose that path, however there was a bit of a discrepancy between her first appearance and the others, as well as some shadows on how exactly she followed “that path”.

A solid 3.5 stars (3 on Goodreads, 4 on other platforms, depending on the rating system)—and someone who likes descriptions more than I do may in fact rate it higher.

Yzabel / April 8, 2016

Review: An Unattractive Vampire

An Unattractive Vampire by Jim McDoniel

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Jim McDoniel’s debut novel, An Unattractive Vampire, is a darkly comic urban fantasy of ancient horrors in suburban cities. After three centuries trapped underground, thousand-year-old Yulric Bile—also known as the Curséd One, the Devil’s Apprentice, He Who Worships the Slumbering Horrors—awakens only to find that no one believes he is a vampire. Apparently he’s just too ugly—modern vampires, he soon discovers, are pretty, weak, and, most disturbing of all, good. Determined to reestablish his bloodstained reign, Yulric sets out to correct this disgusting turn of events or, at the very least, murder the person responsible. With the help of pert vampire-wannabe Amanda; Simon, the eight-year-old reincarnation of his greatest foe; and a cadre of ancient and ugly horrors, Yulric prepares to battle the glamorous undead. But who will win the right to determine, once and for all, what it truly means to be a vampire?

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A fun read, even though in the end I didn’t find it the laugh-fest I had expected.

This is for all of us who like their vampire stories, but don’t necessarily want to read about a sanitised, mainstream, “fangless” version of vampires, with glitter and beauty, but little punch otherwise. Yulric Bile is an old school vampire: ugly, fearing crosses and running water, with nothing in the way of glamour, yet also adept at dark magic and much more resilient than the “modern vampyrs” with their glitz and life of night-clubs. Of course, both the former and the latter at cliché. Of course, the story pokes fun at Twilight-like vampires… although, all things considered, I think it pokes even *more* fun at wannabe-Camarilla vampires. (Any “Vampire: the Masquerade” player will see where I’m going with this. All the more if they’ve played the first edition. Ah, those good old days when we thought emo!vampire was all the rage…)

There are ridiculous and sympathetic characters on both sides. Amanda, the sexy blonde who’d like nothing better than to be turned a vampire, but maybe not for such obvious reasons. The cast from the “Phantom” TV series, clearly a mirror of contemporary paranormal and urban fantasy stories, complete with forums and fangirls, convoluted romance and Face-Hell (and Heel-Face) turns. Simon, Amanda’s little brother, too serious for a kid—also to enamored with weapons. Yulric, dangerous and ruthless yet also mesmerised by modern inventions like TV (and let’s not talk about his first meeting a car).

Mostly this book was a light read perfect for moments when you do need something fun, something that shall make you smile. It has its own brand of a sense of humour, including Yulric’s, who’s not so unsympathetic.

On the other hand, some things were a bit too… all over the place? Not in the right places? Vermillion’s involvment, for instance: I see where this is going, but it was strange to see so much of him, considering how he was involved. Or Simon: both cute and creepy in his own way, yet no real use was made of the whole “the eight-year-old reincarnation of his greatest foe“ hint from the blurb (it wasn’t mentioned until late, it didn’t bear much weight on his relationship with Yulric…). Or Catherine: good for her, but how did she go from 4-year coma-patient to sauntering about in a matter of a few days?

The writing was also jumpy in quite a few places, mixing points of views in a way that wasn’t really omniscient POV, and so felt weird to read. The footnotes were funny in general; some could’ve been omitted, though, as those didn’t bring anything to the fun factor.

So, funny in general, although in the end it didn’t amuse me as much as I hoped it would have when I read the blurb. Still, this is the kind of book I’d recommend borrowing, at least.