arc Archives - Page 28 of 30

Yzabel / June 24, 2014

Review: Shield and Crocus

Shield and Crocus by Michael R. Underwood

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

In a city built among the bones of a fallen giant, a small group of heroes looks to reclaim their home from the five criminal tyrants who control it.

The city of Audec-Hal sits among the bones of a Titan. For decades it has suffered under the dominance of five tyrants, all with their own agendas. Their infighting is nothing, though, compared to the mysterious “Spark-storms” that alternate between razing the land and bestowing the citizens with wild, unpredictable abilities. It was one of these storms that gave First Sentinel, leader of the revolutionaries known as the Shields of Audec-Hal, power to control the emotional connections between people—a power that cost him the love of his life.

Now, with nothing left to lose, First Sentinel and the Shields are the only resistance against the city’s overlords as they strive to free themselves from the clutches of evil. The only thing they have going for them is that the crime lords are fighting each other as well—that is, until the tyrants agree to a summit that will permanently divide the city and cement their rule of Audec-Hal.

It’s one thing to take a stand against oppression, but with the odds stacked against the Shields, it’s another thing to actually triumph.

Review:

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

3.5* for an interesting read. Quite special at first: I must admit I was expecting more classical fantasy, yet this novel deals in fact more with superheroes in a fantasy world than with a typical “band of brothers” à la Robin Hood. So, with this in mind, it depends on the reader’s take on such stories: if superheroes aren’t your thing, getting into Shield and Crocus might be difficult. For instance, the characters have their normal identities and their heroes’ identities, which can be confusing in the beginning before you get used to Wonlar being also called First Sentinel, Rova being Sapphire, and so on. (Of course, I only noticed the presence of a glossary at the end after I had finished reading the novel. The beauty of ebooks on a Kindle app on a smartphone…)

The story’s set in an intriguing city by the name of Audec-Hal, a city that developed within the skeleton of a fallen Titan, twenty miles from head to toe. Its inhabitants live in his ribcage, along his legs and arms, streets are called “veins” as if they were still carrying his blood, and so on. Some fifty years ago, it was protected by the City Mother, a being whose power was however enslaved by a tyrant; since then, the faith and compassion bestowed on the inhabitants have turned to fear and servitude. The place is also regularly stormed by, well, literal storms (Spark-storms), possibly magical in origin, since they turn people and even buildings into strange things, mostly living. The lucky ones end up with couple of physical changes and/or a specific power; the others lose their humanity, so to speak—the people of Audec-Hal are humanoid in looks and behaviours, but their races aren’t called “human”. Six of them dwell in the city, all with their specific characteristics: the fast (and fast-aging Pronai); the Ikanollo, who can see the threads of emotions bonding people (oh the possibilities); the Freithin, created through alchemy to serve as slaves, empowered with empathy with their blood-kin; the Jalvai, who control stone; the Millrej, sharing features with animals (bear-kin, fox-kin…); and the eyeless, mouthless Qava, who feed on thoughts and communicate and feel through telepathy and telekinesy.

This may seem complicated, and it was in the beginning, but the novel’s detailed enough in its descriptions to make it clear after a couple of chapters. At least, I didn’t find it so complicated that I had to stop reading or check the glossary (as said, I didn’t even notice there was one). It was imaginative enough to my liking, and different from the usual elves-like, dwarves-like, and others-like species seen in fantasy in general.

In fact, the diversity is one of the reasons I liked this novel. Three of the six Shields are women, two of them are an item… and it just “is.” Not a major plot point, not a plot device, not a way of passing a message. I didn’t feel any judgemental attitude nor any preaching to the choir, which is pretty refreshing, and fits with my own take on people in general. (I consider people first as human beings, not as gendered beings. This is exactly how it felt here.) What mattered were those heroes’ strength, their ideas, their fight, their wishes for a better city for their fellow inhabitants. Species, gender, sexual orientation: those weren’t important, just background elements that happened to be, and didn’t take precedence on more intrisic, fundamental qualities.

The “super-hero fantasy” aspect beckons for an action-filled narrative (told mostly from First Sentinel’s, Sapphire’s and Aegis’s points of view); however, political undertones still permeate the story, in that five tyrants seized power decades ago, are keeping the city under their thumb, and are trying to gather for a summit that, if it succeeds, would make their stranglehold on Audec-Hal even stronger that before. They’re all vying for power, and are definitely not above striking alliances only to backstab their new allies at the first opportunity; on the other hand, the six Shields have to take their moves into consideration, anticipate, and as always in such cases, sometimes you’re victorious, and sometimes you get played. Consequently, although action and fights still make up two thirds of Shield and Crocus, the story’s a little more complex than “a group of heroes fight crime/one evil overlord”. This is something I tend to appreciate, especially since the Shields have to plan around, and are sometimes forced into moves that lead to loss of life (they can’t be everywhere to save the people who support them).

Speaking of the tyrants: the Smiling King. I so, so want to call this guy Hastur. Or the King in Yellow. Or something to that extent. I have no idea if it was the author’s intent, it’s just the way he resonated with me.

The writing was somewhat redundant. I didn’t have any problems when it came to picturing the city and the fights, but regularly, I found the style repetitive, probably because of names/nicknames that were dropped too often. (You can only read “First Sentinel” so many times in two paragraphs.) The book could’ve done with some tightening in that regard.

Another thing: the story didn’t leave that much room for character development, and I would’ve liked to see a little more of this as well. Mostly because of what revolution-related themes tend to involve: people dying. And their death usually impacts me more when I’ve gotten to know those characters first, not just see them in action. It’s not a big turn-off in this specific story, but it’s worth mentioning.

Although it seems like a standalone for now, the ending is open enough for a follow-up, so if there’s one, I’d gladly pick it. A few things were left wanting in my opinion—not enough to diminish my enjoyment of the story, just enough to make me wonder. Fahra’s existence, among other things, could pave the way to some interesting scenario about the Spark-storms. I’d also like to know more about the Titans, the storm’s origin, the world outside Audec-Hal. (As a microcosm, it works fairly well; only I tend to be curious about what’s outside “pocket-worlds” in general, so to speak.)

To be honest, I think this novel would shine more as a graphic novel/comics. Nevertheless, it wasn’t such an easy mix to come up with at first; it’s imaginative; and as it is, I still enjoyed it.

Yzabel / June 20, 2014

Review: The Bone Church

The Bone Church: A Novel by Victoria Dougherty

My rating: [rating=3]

Summary:

In the surreal and paranoid underworld of wartime Prague, fugitive lovers Felix Andel and Magdalena Ruza make some dubious alliances – with a mysterious Roman Catholic cardinal, a reckless sculptor intent on making a big political statement, and a gypsy with a risky sex life. As one by one their chances for fleeing the country collapse, the two join a plot to assassinate Hitler’s nefarious Minister of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda, Josef Goebbels.

But the assassination attempt goes wildly wrong, propelling the lovers in separate directions.
Felix’s destiny is sealed at the Bone Church, a mystical pilgrimage site on the outskirts of Prague, while Magdalena is thrust even deeper into the bowels of a city that betrayed her and a homeland soon to be swallowed by the Soviets. As they emerge from the shadowy fog of World War II, and stagger into the foul haze of the Cold War, Felix and Magdalena must confront the past, and a dangerous, uncertain future.

Review:

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

I wanted a change of pace with this book; I seldom read Cold War era fiction, which is definitely something I should remedy to. In a way, I got that, and something else, too.

The novel weaves two timelines, 1943-44 and 1956, that end up meeting each other, bringing loose threads together. The author always provided time and location, so keeping track of what happened when wasn’t too hard. I found the beginning of the story a little confusing, and still don’t know if it was because of the writing style, the changing timelines, or if it was just me; after a short while, things fell into place, and it was all right.

As for the historical context, I must admit I know next to nothing to Prague’s history, and I probably missed a few subtleties here when it came to the Infant of Prague and its importance in the plot. On the other hand, I had no problems piecing out those details, and I think the author provided enough information for me to enjoy it without having to stop reading, go learn a few things, and come back later.

Some scenes bordered on the “too much” at times; readers who don’t like that may be put off by those. For instance, Felix and Srut stealing a fire lorry to escape the Germans, then making their exit skating on the Vltava river. I quirked an eyebrow, while grinning at the same time. Part of me was “what the heck?”, and the other part went “nice one, guys!” It was a strange, somewhat elating feeling.

The atmosphere was permeated with a heavy sense of foreboding, with distrust, danger, suspicion, featuring potential traitors, unsuspected allies, and half-hatched plans thwarted at the last moment, always forcing the characters to get back on their feet, to react to the unexpected. However careful their plans, it was obvious they wouldn’t be able to go through them seamlessly, and this added to the paranoia and tension. Sometimes, too, surrealistic descriptions gave an extra edge to the action, especially when Felix was concerned: you never know at first if the people he sees are friends or enemies, real or only in his mind. It reinforced the feeling of something not right going on.

My main gripes with this story:

1) Some of the plot twists rested on characters that are seldom seen or, worse, appear once only. For instance, the nun, or the bishop, who’re mentioned once: when they do their particular deed. Such things don’t sit well with me in general. Here, they made the twists feel contrived, and I think the latter would’ve had more of an impact on me if said characters had been introduced beforehand, even in a couple of scenes only (like Andrea). As a result, those threads confused me, and threw me out of the story a few times.

2) Magdalena’s involvement, compared to Felix’s, felt like a secondary role. I would’ve enjoyed seeing more of her, more of the path she had to walk alone. She seemed to stand in the background, more spectator than actor, and this made her character less “real” in my eyes.

An interesting story all in all, but not exactly an easy read, and one that might have benefitted from a little more development when it came to some of the secondary characters.

Yzabel / June 18, 2014

Review: Reckoning

Reckoning by Kerry Wilkinson

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

In the village of Martindale, hundreds of miles north of the new English capital of Windsor, sixteen-year-old Silver Blackthorn takes the Reckoning. This coming-of- age test not only decides her place in society – Elite, Member, Inter or Trog – but also determines that Silver is to become an Offering for King Victor.

But these are uncertain times and no one really knows what happens to the teenagers who disappear into Windsor Castle. Is being an Offering the privilege everyone assumes it to be, or do the walls of the castle have something to hide?Trapped in a maze of ancient corridors, Silver finds herself in a warped world of suspicion where it is difficult to know who to trust and who to fear. The one thing Silver does know is that she must find a way out . . .

The heart-stopping first book in a new trilogy by UK author Kerry Wilkinson, Reckoning is the story of one girl’s determination to escape the whims of a cruel king, and what she must do to survive against all odds.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

2-2.5 stars. In itself, it was a decent enough read, only I couldn’t help but be reminded of many other dystopian YA stories… and after a while, those start to blend together. Among other things, it felt quite reminiscent of The Hunger Games and similar stories, except that the people involved weren’t actively trying to kill each other, but were doing so in underhanded ways, notably being cowards and telling on others.

I was drawn towards this story because of its setting (post-war UK, or rather England/Wales—Scotland, well, nobody talks about Scotland, there must be something fishy with Scotland) and the promised mix of technology and mediaeval buildings/structures. However, such a mix is usually kind of hard to achieve, and I’m not sure it always worked here. The idea of a King totally fits the United Kingdom (much more than it would a US setting, for sure), and I think oppression resting on the ashes of a lasting civil war might be believable for a time. I can see people being so wary that they just want to close their eyes and ignore their current predicament, because at least they don’t have to fight anymore.

On the other hand, I’m not sure that “oil ran out” could be used as the sole justification behind wars on the world level; I keep wondering what else should’ve been involved to make the situation as desperate. Also, the class society in the novel didn’t really convince me: it remained too vague. What do Elites do, except being “the upper class”, with the Members and Inter being, let’s say, “upper-middle” and “lower-middle”, and the Trogs being the “working class”? It seemed to me that no matter their status, those people kind of did the same jobs: an Elite guy and a Trog girl both end up working in the kitchens, for instance, and this system seemed to clash with how the Offerings were assigned to their jobs depending on skills (Silver ends up in a technology-related environment, because she was picked a tech-savvy during her Reckoning, but whether she was a Member or a Trog didn’t seem to matter at this point). So in the end, I didn’t really understand the point. I suppose it would’ve made more sense if I had seen society as a whole depicted here, with non-Offerings going about their work. Whenever I saw some, those were people who hadn’t gone through the Reckoning (like Silver’s mother, or the Head Kingsmen, who were already there before Reckonings first took place). They were outside the new class system, so to speak, and it didn’t help me understand the latter.

Another problem was that I found a lot of things predictable. It might be just me, it might be due to similar stories I’ve read before, I don’t know. It was obvious from the beginning that the King was completely mad, to the point of killing Offerings on a whim, which sure explained why nobody ever heard of them again, hah. The “let’s try to escape” part was obvious as well, just like the romance part, and what actually happened to the families of those who didn’t keep a low profile.

Silver Blackthorn: let’s not dwell on that name; I still can’t stand it. I had mixed feelings about her. In some ways, she came off as a coward, but at the same time, this attitude was also clever: don’t get noticed, so that you live longer, and if you live longer, you have a chance of actually doing something. She limited her interactions with, and therefore her understanding of, other characters, who mostly remained bland and stereotypical. On the other hand, she also kept other people in mind: her family, Opie’s, as well as the other Offerings. She’s not planning a selfish escape just for herself and The Boy (OK, she does at first, and then she considers the bigger picture). I think what bothered me was that I would’ve expected her to do more tech-related stuff. Well, she does, but… in such a way that it’s only seen afterwards.

And here’s where I must touch upon something that really hindered the novel in my opinion: the first person point of view. There’s a moment when a big twist unfurls, and the reader is led to believe something, while something else altogether is brewing. However, I think that the first person narrative is problematic in such cases, because once the twist is revealed, the reader immediately thinks: “Hey, the character knew about it, so how come s/he withheld the information, both from me and from him/herself?” This is what happened here. Before that point, the narrative was all right. After it, I couldn’t get back into it anymore. For those who’ve already read the book: I’m talking, of course, about how we’re led to believe Imrin has betrayed Silver, but in fact this was all part of an act, and the other boys and girls were plotting in the background so that everybody could escape. Which Silver knew, yet deliberately “withheld” from herself, and therefore from me, reader. Tough there are a couple of hints here and there, they’re not enough. In any case, what followed was a recap of who did what, and then only Silver’s role was made more apparent… but by then, I felt cheated.

I would add to this a mild case of convenient chains of events, such as this or that character forgetting to lock a door on a regular basis. It didn’t sit so well with me when it came to a place where paranoia was a rule.

Bonus point, though, for the romance, in that:

1) It doesn’t dwell too much on a potential love triangle. This might come back in the next book, but for now, I’m going to ignore such a possibility, because I can and I want to.

2) The characters are attracted to each other while they do and think of other things. They mostly meet to find a way out, not merely to kiss and grope in the dark. The attraction comes later—and it doesn’t take too much space, contrary to what I’ve seen happen in too many other stories.

I somewhat enjoyed this novel; I’d probably have enjoyed it more if it didn’t feel and taste like many others in the same genre.

Yzabel / June 17, 2014

Review: Child of a Hidden Sea

Child of a Hidden Sea by A.M. Dellamonica

My rating: [rating=2]

Summary:

One minute, twenty-four-year-old Sophie Hansa is in a San Francisco alley trying to save the life of the aunt she has never known. The next, she finds herself flung into the warm and salty waters of an unfamiliar world. Glowing moths fall to the waves around her, and the sleek bodies of unseen fish glide against her submerged ankles.

The world is Stormwrack, a series of island nations with a variety of cultures and economies—and a language different from any Sophie has heard.

Sophie doesn’t know it yet, but she has just stepped into the middle of a political firestorm, and a conspiracy that could destroy a world she has just discovered… her world, where everyone seems to know who she is, and where she is forbidden to stay.

But Sophie is stubborn, and smart, and refuses to be cast adrift by people who don’t know her and yet wish her gone. With the help of a sister she has never known, and a ship captain who would rather she had never arrived, she must navigate the shoals of the highly charged politics of Stormwrack, and win the right to decide for herself whether she stays in this wondrous world . . . or is doomed to exile.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

2.5 stars. This book gave me trouble, although I should’ve liked its setting and themes. When I had to put it down, and then wanted to pick it up again, geting back into the story was a little hard.

I quite liked the world of Stormwrack, which seems fairly rich and complex, full of political intricacies, bureaucracy antics, and red tape tactics. There’s a lot of potential in there, a potential that doubles up with the Fleet—a literal fleet of ships representing every nation, basically a federation existing on sea only, and acting as a central government of sorts. I don’t doubt readers who like stories with a lot of sea travel and exploration will enjoy this side of the novel. A lof of Stormwrack’s system rests on notions such as honour, giving one’s word, having one’s origin speak for their character; this is partly cliché (“the Sylvanners are thieves”, “the Tiladenes are promiscuous”), yet also leaves room for misinterpretation, culture clashes, and having to speak up for oneself, without resorting to family support.

My main problem lay with Sophie. I couldn’t warm up to this character, and thought her rather immature for a 24-year-old woman who’s had experience in “delicate” situations such as diving, which for me implies knowledge and responsibility. While this was part of her character development, I was constantly reminded of what I’m going to call her “tourist mentality”, and in the end, she was still going strong enough about it (obssessed with bringing back samples and pictures, etc.). She first ended up on Stormwrack after saving the life of Gale, a woman who had turned out to be her biological aunt, and that chain of events already hinted at a dangerous world. I could understand Sophie’s desire to go back there and learn more; I had less understanding for the way she did it, ignoring everyone’s recommendations, and involving her brother Bram in the muddle. It felt as if she just didn’t think, only considering the pretty shiny things in the sea, and never the bigger picture and the potential dangers she might put Bram in.

And this very attitude indeed put people in danger, and/or ruined lives. Granted, said people never really explained either how she was such a “threat” to them, not until it was too late, so I don’t blame Sophie for not getting it sooner. However, I do blame her for not thinking it through. For instance, when the bad guys threatened her with magic, demanding she retrieved an item for them, not once did she consider that they may get after other people if she didn’t move fast enough to their liking. Guess what? Someone got kidnapped, and put in harm’s way. The “I have your wife” trope is already tricky enough as it is, since it forces characters to make callous choices (let the loved one die, or let the rest of the world suffer), but when the character herself dive into it head-first, it’s even harder.

Moreover, Sophie had a meandering mind, and after a while, it became distracting (perhaps this was part of the reason why I could never get back into the story easily?). She’d be doing something important to free the aforementioned person, but thinking of the flora and fauna right in the middle of the “mission”. I don’t how it goes for other people; my own mind tend to wander a lot, too; but when something really important pops up, I focus on the task at hand. Maybe I shouldn’t expect characters to react like that, but… I can’t help it. If Mum gets kidnapped, who would be worrying about hiding wasp samples and whatnot inside their skirts? Not me. Similarly, in the beginning, Sophie goes about voicing out whatever goes through her head, when she’s in the middle of an unknown sea, trying not to drown with Gale. Her narrative voice was therefore a little troublesome, although I finally got used to it.

Another problem was how she managed to investigate. As a person thrown in a world whose geopolitical complexities she didn’t know, sometimes she did the math too quickly, more quickly than people who were born and raised on that world. This didn’t strike me as very logical, and made the other characters seem a little dumb. It felt as if they had been dumbed down for the protagonist to show how clever she was, instead of Sophie just being, well, smart. (The connections she made could’ve been made by Verena, who knows Earth technology, and would’ve been just as able, if not more, to connect the dots.)

World-building quibbles of mine:

1) The time travel aspect. It is heavily implied that Stormwrack is future!Earth, but I didn’t see the point. The story would’ve worked just as well if it had been a bona fide other world, and this left me wondering, only to close the book with no more answers about that in the end. Was it really important? Is there going to be a sequel, resting more on this specific matter?

2) The secrecy. Stormwrack people aren’t supposed to know about Erstwhile (Earth), but some of them had the portal magic/technology, and seemingly Gale was acting as courier between both worlds, which also implied that other people from Stormwrack lived in Erstwhile. Why? Who were they? If there’s a post service, it means there’s a need, so how many of them were there? Why the secrecy? As a reader, I don’t want to be told “it’s hush-hush business”: I want to know why it is.

On the other hand, bonus point for deconstructing “the Chosen One/Destroyer of Worlds” trope here.

All in all, an interesting setting, but one I would’ve liked more answers about, just I would’ve liked Sophie to be less of a “tourist”.

NB: ARC version, with a few errors that may be gone by the time the book hits the shelves. (Verena is called “Thorna” a couple of times: a remnant of a former version, or some subtlety I didn’t catch?)

Yzabel / June 13, 2014

Review: Crushed (Soul Eaters 2)

Crushed by Eliza Crewe

My rating: [rating=5]

Summary:

Meda Melange has officially hung up her monstrous mantle and planted her feet firmly on the holy and righteous path of a Crusader-in-training. Or, at least, she’s willing to give it a shot. It helps that the Crusaders are the only thing standing between her and the demon hordes who want her dead.

The problem is, the only people less convinced than Meda of her new-found role as Good Girl are the very Crusaders she’s trying to join. So when a devilishly handsome half-demon boy offers escape, how’s a girl supposed to say “no?”

After all, everyone knows a good girl’s greatest weakness is a bad boy.

Review:

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

4.5 stars, rounded to 5 because this book did something other books seldom do: eliciting feelings in me.

You see, I’m a cold-hearted person. Not as in cruel and mean, but as in, someone who very seldom cries, who’s seldom moved by emotional scenes, and so on. The few things that make me reach such a state aren’t the usual kind of triggers; I don’t shed tears over characters dying, romantic scenes, happy-ever-after moments. In fact, it’s so random I couldn’t even explain what may or may not trigger a reaction, whatever reaction, in me.

Meda’s voice does. I don’t know how, I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s her acceptance that she’s bad, that something in her is utterly rotten (she’s half-demon, after all). Perhaps it’s the fact she doesn’t delude herself when it comes to being liked by others, or to the guy she may or may not fall in love with. Perhaps it’s how she feels she tries hard, but realises in the end that she should also have tried to understand others. She’s not perfect, she knows it, she’s not trying to be—just being “good enough” would already be a great step, but can someone who needs to ear souls ever be “good enough”? Her eating the souls of bad guys only could seem a rationalisation… or simply a fact: when the only other solution is starving yourself, how many of us would actually be “good enough” to do that? So she goes after bad guys—psychopathic killers, child molesters—and eat their souls, because it’s the least of two evils, yet while she jokes about being a super heroine, going about vigilante business, she still acknowledges that she’s part monster, and will always be.

She’s not perfect. She makes mistakes. She misunderstands people, people misunderstand her. But she learns. She accepts facts in the end, seeing them for what they were, for something she failed to notice. She owns up to her mistakes, tries to correct them, takes responsibility for her actions. And she’s also angry and frustrated, so much that I could feel her anger poring through the pages. I especially liked that contrary to a lot of teens in YA fiction, her reasons were both selfish (it was about “me, me, me” at first, in that she saw things from her side of the barrier only) and understandable: the bullying, people automatically disliking her at school because she’s a half-demon, the adults seemingly turning a blind eye on it, humiliating punishments that only furthered the bullying… She was under scrutiny because of her nature, but it felt as if she was expected to do better than any other “good” person in the world, while being set up for failure. (I don’t know, but if someone’s half-demon, expecting them to be Mother Teresa is kind of asking for them to fail, isn’t it?) Meda was self-centered and didn’t understand Jo’s attempts at warning her, at protecting her; however, I think a lot of people would’ve felt the same in her situation. And later, when she discovers the true reasons behind what happened, she accepts them, accepts that she has to understand.

Meda’s friendship with Jo: another beautiful thing in this story. They both have their own very special personalities, they’ve been through fire together, they don’t entirely trust each other, and paradoxically, the latter grounds their relationship into something deeper, stronger, because it holds one important promise: the day real trust is born, is the day their friendship knows no bounds. In the meantime, they’re kidn of circling each other, watching each other. It’s not a girly kind of friendship. They don’t bond over boys, over one common interest that may or may not last. But it runs deep, to the point of self-sacrifice… not only on Jo’s part (knowing her character, that must’ve been one hard thing to do for Jo, by the way).

And when a half-demon is led to self-sacrifice, this also tells you something about her, about whether her nature binds her so much, whether Armand is right in telling her Hell is the only place for her… or not. Meda knowing she’s a monster, and not refuting it, Meda teetering on the brink of that one important decision (join the demons or remain faithful to the Crusaders, even though they want her dead), are, in my opinion, what could make her achieve her own “goodness”: not a saintly one, but one that defies her origins.

Love interest: there is one, but not too much. Here, we don’t go through the “redeem the bad boy” trope, or starry-eyed love. While Meda and Armand are clearly attracted to each other, they also know that sooner or later, they may stand on different sides. Meda is aware she may have to kill him someday; indeed, no delusions here, and no glorious promises of Love Eternal either. They both hang out together for their own selfish reasons, they both say it openly, they both accept it in each other. It’s a really nice break from the usual teen romance I see in YA books nowadays.

Also, they kill. They go through with their murders, they don’t bail out at the last moment. Another nice break from all the “assassins who fail to kill” stories.

The Crusaders: horrible in many ways, justified in others. What they did to Meda, refusing to give her a say when it was time to test one specific kind of magic on her, was shocking; however, when Meda had a choice, the person who seemed so bad, so cruel at first turned out to be pretty decent—and he wasn’t the only one. It’s never sp black and white with them as you think it is.

The one qualm I have with this book is that it felt slow in the beginning, especially compared to the first novel in the series. Meda’s voice and what I could sense between the lines prevented this from being too much of a problem, but I was still glad when the pace picked up.

Yzabel / June 9, 2014

Review: Glitch

Glitch by Brenda Pandos

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

When a mysterious guy from the zombie zone sneaks an illegal slip of paper to a beautiful young girl from Brighton, she must decide if she should turn him in or follow what the note says in the first book of the Brighton Zombies Series, Glitch.

Eighteen-year-old Abigail has no trouble following Brighton’s rules. For one, she’s OCD about checking her Date of Death clock latched to her wrist, making sure her decisions never shorten her timeline, and two, she enjoys the peace Brighton has to offer. In no way would she bring on another attack that destroyed earth’s inhabitants like her predecessors did from their selfishness and greed. But when her best friend returns from her Advice Meeting–a glimpse into the future–shell shocked and won’t tell Abby what’s happened, she’s worried what awaits her. The stranger with blue-eyes knows something, but does Abby dare enter the zombie zone to get answers? Or is she doomed to live the life set for her?

Review:

(I received this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

It took me some time to get and remain in the story, and I have to admit that in the end, well, I didn’t like it. There were good ideas, and it started off as promising; however, after a while, everything became so disjointed that I wasn’t sure anymore what I was reading, and the abrupt ending/cliffhanger just left me “wait, whut?”.

The first thing I couldn’t wrap my mind around was the world itself. It contains lots of elements, and seems quite rich in terms of background to exploit, but the way it was introduced didn’t make much sense to me. We have zombies who may or may not exist; Sasquatches (half-human, half-animal?) whose origin is definitely unclear; and what I’m going to call a “pocket universe”, a.k.a. Brighton, without any information about the rest of the world. I admit I wouldn’t have been bothered so much if I had read this book some 3 years ago, but after so many dystopian stories revolving about the same theme, I can’t help now but always wonder: “Is this community the only one? What about others? Don’t they communicate? Do people really believe all that, and never question anything, even privately, in their own thoughts?” The Oracle part was also problematic: she’s introduced around the 25% mark, as something everybody seems to know (at least, the way Abby mentions her), but I can’t remember her existence being mentioned sooner, and this felt weird. Also, this:

“The EA wanted to purge blue eyes from future generations, saying they had a proclivity to disease and illness.”

Why? This begged for an explanation, and we never got it. This looks like a really important element, so important that the EA goes to such lengths as to, well, spay people who might give birth to children with blue eyes. Why? Are blue eyes linked to some special power? Is some blue-eyed person born in the future, so they’re trying to prevent his/her birth by removing blue eyes from the gene pool altogether? As it is, it just didn’t make sense.

Some pacing problems, too. The beginning was interesting. The middle lacked in excitement (discover people outside, travel to camp, life at camp). The third part contained many time-jumps, and those were terribly confusing. I’d like to chalk said confusion to my being tired, but I’m really not sure about that. I get there are different timelines, and that there’s a key moment in the past from which various futures are determined… or was the key moment sometime in the future, with a cure being found for something that happened in the present, yet it had to be brought to the past for the present to be “normal” again? The way things happened in that regard were, again, very confusing, and that part of the plot kept contradicting itself. I still have no idea how the person able to jump in time did it (claiming “I have no control”, yet always conveniently arriving at the exact moment they aimed for?), nor how her powers suddenly came out, nor how she managed to sort through all those timelines. She seemed to learn that in a snap of fingers, when it’s probably something anyone would need at least days of training to master—if only in their mind.

I didn’t really like any of the characters. Abby: has every male character pining after her, and of course she can’t decide (it’s insta-love but it isn’t, no, wait, it is); whiny, needy, then turning badass out of nowhere. Kaden: stop being the broody loner and TALK, because I tell you, this clears up misunderstandings in record time. Memphis: any person calling another “Sugar” from the beginning (or “babe”, “baby”, or whatever other “cutesy” name) makes me cringe—and the testosterone contest regarding who gets the girl gets tiring, pretty fast: I felt like smacking him every time he made moves such as sliding his arm around Abby’s waist in a possessive gesture. The community: girls are at the camp, doing laundry and cooking and washing the dishes, because everyone knows they can’t have any useful skills like hunting or patrolling, nor can any guy cook a meal. Decisions: everybody seems to act on a whim, sometimes out of character, and a lot of problems could have been avoided if they had just initiated basic communication, instead of puffing chests and trying to prove how manly they were. Reader not impressed here.

On the writing side: a couple of proofing problems (Complement/Compliment), that got corrected after a while, but were still annoying. Maybe they’re not in the printed copy anymore, though.

Although the next book is bound to hold answers, after such a cliffhanger, I’m not interested enough to pick it.

Yzabel / June 8, 2014

Review: The Lost

The Lost by Sarah Beth Durst

My rating: [rating=3]

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

I tend to have a strong liking to such stories: mysterious little towns hiding all sorts of secrets; characters lost in them and trying to find their way, only to find out that something dark is lurking behind; and so on. I must say I was enthralled by the atmosphere in “The Lost”. The aforementioned small town felt creepy as hell, and its inhabitants’ reactions didn’t do anything to shake off that feeling, for sure. The mob that thinks Lauren is responsible for their new woes. The underlying desire to make her run away from the town, with the intent of resorting to more if this doesn’t work. Women planting dead flowers; characters going from cheerful and welcoming to crazy and threatening; a kid in a faded princess dress, cuteness all over her, a teddy bear under her arm, and a knife in her hand; the mysterious tenant of room 12 (will we ever know who he was?). Roads that lead to nowhere, or rather, always lead back to the same place. The desert and dust stormes encroaching more and more on Lost, giving a sense of mortality to a place that at first appears to be eternal. There’s something fascinating in such people and surroundings in my eyes, and I can never get tired of those.

As far as characters go, I especially liked Peter and Claire. Peter’s quotes weren’t innocent, and his antics could never completely hide the fact he was tired of his duties, and probably going half-crazy (if this fate of his wasn’t already achieved). Claire was both frightening and cute, a little girl wandering a decaying place in search for the family she had lost.

Other, more secondary characters’ stories also lent themselves to speculation. Considering what happened to Tiffany, did something similar happen to Victoria? Even when they realise what they’ve lost, can those people really come back to their older lives, or will the latter make them feel just as much at a loss in the end?

The novel also left me with theories that, though never debunked of confirmed, are however strongly hinted at. The ties between Lauren and the Missing Man, for instance. The lie Lauren cooked about his daughter might hit closer to home than she thinks…

However, I didn’t love this novel. I enjoyed reading it, and… that was all. I think I can chalk this off to three things:

1) The writing. For starters, first person present tense does it less and less for me, after having read so many books that use such narratives, and here, I really don’t think it fit that much, probably because of the “tense + short sentences” combination. Sometimes, it worked, but when descriptions were involved, it threw me out of my little bubble of creepy atmosphere:

I step over a soiled sweatshirt. There’s a wallet lying on the curb. I pick it up and flip it open to see a driver’s license and an array of credit cards. I’ll hand it in at the lobby.

I’m not asking for long, convoluted sentences; but while I got used to those after a while, it wasn’t enough for me to deem them enjoyable.

2) Lauren, in some ways. I just couldn’t warm up to this character. I understand her being disoriented and wanting to find a way home, but I wish she had stopped being a whiner much sooner.

3) The romance, which is somewhat part of point 2), felt weird and displaced. Lauren struck me as acting and reacting more like a teenager than an adult woman. I don’t know if I’m just a cold-hearted person, but poring over how beautiful the guy is when lost in a place where almost everyone wants you dead isn’t exactly my idea of “doing something constructive to get the hell out of here.”

In the shadows, he looks mysterious and perfect, also dangerous.
[…]
I look at him, his perfect chiseled face and his beautiful black eyes.

I’m still holding mixed feelings about the somewhat predictable development, because I find “this was just a dream/coma” tropes overdone. On the other hand, maybe this is more linked to my growing ability to spot tropes and imagine what the next step will be (I read a lot and have a paranoid imagination, too). Ambiguity permeates this new setting, sowing doubt in the character’s as well as the reader’s mind:

He’s perfect. Almost too perfect. He could be the fantasy man in a coma-induced world, and Peter could be real and waiting for me to wake up in Lost.

And the ending being left open as to Lauren’s fate puts the story back on its creepy, somewhat “magical” tracks.

I’d probably pick the next book in this series, to see what happens to Lauren.

Yzabel / June 4, 2014

Review: Destruction

Destruction: The December People, Book One by Sharon Bayliss

My rating:[rating=2]

Summary:

David Vandergraff wants to be a good man. He goes to church every Sunday, keeps his lawn trim and green, and loves his wife and kids more than anything.

Unfortunately, being a dark wizard isn’t a choice.

Eleven years ago, David’s secret second family went missing. When his two lost children are finally found, he learns they suffered years of unthinkable abuse. Ready to make things right, David brings the kids home even though it could mean losing the wife he can’t imagine living without.

Keeping his life together becomes harder when the new children claim to be dark wizards. David believes they use this fantasy to cope with their trauma. Until, David’s wife admits a secret of her own—she is a dark wizard too, as is David, and all of their children.

Now, David must parent two hurting children from a dark world he doesn’t understand and keep his family from falling apart. All while dealing with the realization that everyone he loves, including himself, may be evil.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

2.5 stars. Some parts I really enjoyed, but some others were really problematic for me.

All in all, the plot itself is quite a “mundane” one—in that it could be a contemporary novel, without any need for magic in it. For years, David had a mistress, who bore him two children, then vanished from the surface of Earth. Twelve years later, he learns that she’s just died, and he takes custody of his children… without his wife and three other children knowing. On top of all, the kids born out of wedlock were abused by their stepfather. Instant recipe for drama. Just add water.

Now, because sorcery isn’t necessary to such a plot, doesn’t mean I didn’t like it. On the contrary. It lent an interesting spin to this story, because the “destruction” magic theme ran parallel to the destructive path on which the Vandergraff family was set, and opened up a can of questions. What would destroy them: their own nature as wizards and witches, or just their human nature, period? Would things have been the same without magic, would they have gone through the same pitfalls?

The author’s take on magic was one I found intriguing. Wizards/witches’ powers are attuned to seasons, with mages born in summer having the most “positive” magic, spring/autumn being more balanced, and winter mages having to contend with sorcery that always ends up destroying. The latter, as a theme, was bound to get my attention, because it’s something I find fascinating, and along the story, indeed, it appeared to fit my own belief system, so to speak. Winter mages are “doomed”, in that magic amounts to creating consequences, without any control on the causes… and the causes their spells give birth to are of the destructive kind. For instance, a spell meant for someone to “get money” could very well result in “character inherits a lot of money due to spouse dying” (and not by merely winning the lottery, or winning at the races, etc.). On the other hand, destruction-related powers aren’t bad per se: a skilled sorcerer could just as well use them to operate on people and destroy tumors, thus saving lives. I really liked that the magic system in this novel took such things into account, and didn’t only go with “destruction = bad”.

Another thing I liked was that no character was completely black or white. David cheated on his wife and chickened out on too many things (including telling her before picking up Xavier and Evangeline at the orphanage), but he also managed to display some bravery when it came to his family’s safety. Amanda was rightfully outraged, but also had secrets of her own, which didn’t exactly make her a saint. Jude and Emmy are their own shades of fucked-up, Xavier harbours knowledge that could destroy him (while still wanting to protect his sister), Evangeline can’t decide whether she loves her mother, or thinks she “deserved” what happened to her… And so on.

However, a couple of major problems (major for me, at least) prevented me from fully enjoying this novel. First of all, wizards are supposed to be rare (0.001% of the population?), but they keep attracting each other like there’s no tomorrow. This ended up in a cluster of mages gathered in the same place; even friends were wizards/witches. At some point, it became rather unbelievable—and I don’t mean in a general sense: I mean within the context and “rules” of the story.

Second, there were a lot of double standards, and I think I’d have liked to see them challenged some more. David does it, but only weakly. Mostly Amanda annoyed me in that regard, with her holier-than-thou attitude and her tendency to conveniently ignore what she had done, while giving guilt-trips to others. It’s part of the imperfect nature of this character, sure, but almost nobody called her on her bullshit. All right, David cheated on her and had two kids in her back, which is totally crass. But in the early days of their marriage, Amanda was the one who basically decided: “He’s had such a terrible childhood, so let’s erase his memories of that time. Oh, the spell sorta backlashed and he lost some other memories, too. Oops? But David, you’re a cheater and I want a divorce! You’re the bad, bad person here!” I’m aware this is very subjective on my part, but is cheating so much worse than removing someone’s choice, deciding for them, destroying parts of who they were? Of course, it fits perfectly within the scope of destruction magic. I just wish someone, anyone, would have smacked Amanda on the back of the head and told her to look at her own mistakes some more, instead of acting like Perfect Wife And Mother. Double-standards applied to magic as well: most of the “non-practitioners” in the story apparently spent years saying that their magic would have bad consequences and they’d better not practice… but they easily break their “vow”, while constantly blaming others who do the same. (At this point, you can tell that double standards in general annoy the hell out of me. Personal pet peeve here.)

Third, the abuse the kids suffered from: it may be in a second book, but it’s an important matter that I felt wasn’t addressed enough in this first novel. There’s Xavier and Evangeline, of course, but also Samantha, who gets raped by Jude, in Emmy’s room, and Emmy doesn’t say anything until 30 freaking hours have elapsed. The Vandergraffs sure are a dysfunctional family, but this was pushing things too far for a beginning, in my opinion. It looked as if the abuse was a side note, something that just happened, something about which even the victims didn’t care about; while I’m not for victim-mentality, nor for revelling in piles of angst, it nevertheless bothered me.

Fourth: the ending. I felt the same way as I felt with Twilight, i.e. cheated out of a “big finale”. I didn’t really get how Emmy went from what Jude did to “must do [that big thing that is going to be the climax of the story]”, and I definitely would have wanted to see how her that part went—not learning from her afterwards that this and that happened, and that another character saved the day. It was definitely weird and a little bit jarring. So much was already going on within the Vandergraff family, after all.

I think I would be interested in reading the next book, though, even though I didn’t give this one a stellar rating. There’s a lot of potential here when it comes to magic, as well as to redefined dynamics within the family.

Yzabel / May 31, 2014

Review: California Bones

California Bones by Greg Van Eekhout

My rating: [rating=4]

Summary:

When Daniel Blackland was six, he ingested his first bone fragment, a bit of kraken spine plucked out of the sand during a visit with his demanding, brilliant, and powerful magician father, Sebastian.

When Daniel was twelve, he watched Sebastian die at the hands of the Hierarch of Southern California, devoured for the heightened magic layered deep within his bones.

Now, years later, Daniel is a petty thief with a forged identity. Hiding amid the crowds in Los Angeles—the capital of the Kingdom of Southern California—Daniel is trying to go straight. But his crime-boss uncle has a heist he wants Daniel to perform: break into the Hierarch’s storehouse of magical artifacts and retrieve Sebastian’s sword, an object of untold power.

For this dangerous mission, Daniel will need a team he can rely on, so he brings in his closest friends from his years in the criminal world. There’s Moth, who can take a bullet and heal in mere minutes. Jo Alverado, illusionist. The multitalented Cassandra, Daniel’s ex. And, new to them all, the enigmatic, knowledgeable Emma, with her British accent and her own grudge against the powers-that-be. The stakes are high, and the stage is set for a showdown that might just break the magic that protects a long-corrupt regime.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5/4 stars, I can’t exactly decide, but let’s say 4, because I really liked the world depicted in this book.

Somewhere at the end of the 19th century, or in the early 20th century, California cut ties with the rest of the USA. North and South are now separate “kingdoms”, the southern one being giverned for a century by the mysterious Hierarch and his six closest associates. In itself, the back story behind this isn’t extremely developed, but for once, it didn’t matter for me, because the atmosphere permeating fascinated me, and in the end, I found this more important. (I tend to forgive such aspects in fantasy more than I do in dystopian stories, probably because of the magic factor: if there’s magic and supernatural beings, the world isn’t totally our own, and there’s more leeway for alternate history and various changes.)

I must say I loved the magic developed here: consuming bones from a creature allows a sorcerer (called osteomancer) to temporarily gain characteristics from said creature. The more is consumed, the stronger the magic, and some, like the main character, are so permeated with essence from such beings that they can call upon them at will, or almost. There’s something both gross and fascinating in this, similar to what gets my interest in stories where necromancy is concerned. Consuming bones is a large paved way leading straight to cannibalism: why wait until the creature is dead, after all? And, of course, why only consume animals? Readers who don’t like such themes will likely not feel at ease with what happens in this novel. I, well, I kept reading, wanting to know more about how this worked, about how far some people were ready to go.

The setting, the city, felt like a mix of strange glamour and disgusting practices, a combination that usually works for me. People living under delusions fuelled by the glamour magic of an old sorcerer named Disney, whose amusement parks keep visitors half-drugged with false beauty, and are one of society’s backbones. Lively markets full of conmen and thiefs, having to eke a living under the nose of the wealthy ones working for the “government”. Black market, osteomancy being both a tool of power and one that will get you hunted, because you never know when someone more powerful decides it’s time to consume more… substance. Though the descriptions weren’t very long, they were of a kind that made me able to easily picture the streets, the canals, all the places the characters went through, and to me, this world was a vivid one.

The heist itself is of the classic kind, so I’d say it depends on what a reader is looking for here. If one is familiar with such stories and has read a lot, it may not be surprising, and may even appear as predictable. However, if this is the formula one is looking for, for the sheer pleasure of seeing the heist being prepared and carried on, or if one hasn’t read/seen too many stories of that kind, it could be a very different experience.

I really liked this novel, but two caveats, still. First, while it was permeated with that morbid fascination born from osteomancy, I feel it could have been more developed when it came to some aspects. Quite a few times, I realised I wanted to know more, more, more. Some things I could infer, some others I never got an answer to. Second, the story rests on atmosphere, world-builging, and on the heist itself; in comparison, the characters’ motives weren’t always clear, and their personas sometimes seemed simplistic. Again, it probably depends on what one is looking for. I was looking for a heist and a strange kind of magic, not for very deep exploration of every single human psyche involved, but if I had been, I guess I would have liked the novel less than I did.

This is a rich world, in any case, and one that deserves being written about some more. If there’s to be a sequel, I’d definitely pick it.

(Note: there were a few typos here and there. Since this is an ARC and not a published copy, though, those will hopefully have been corrected by the time it hits the shelves.)

Yzabel / May 27, 2014

Review: Hexed

Hexed by Michelle Krys

My rating: [rating=1]

Summary:

A stolen book. A deadly plan. A destiny discovered.

If high school is all about social status, Indigo Blackwood has it made. Sure, her quirky mom owns an occult shop, and a nerd just won’t stop trying to be her friend, but Indie is a popular cheerleader with a football-star boyfriend and a social circle powerful enough to ruin everyone at school. Who wouldn’t want to be her?

Then a guy dies right before her eyes. And the dusty old family Bible her mom is freakishly possessive of is stolen. But when a frustratingly sexy stranger named Bishop enters Indie’s world, she learns that her destiny involves a lot more than pom-poms and parties. If she doesn’t get the Bible back, every witch on the planet will die. And that’s seriously bad news for Indie, because according to Bishop, she’s a witch too.

Suddenly forced into a centuries-old war between witches and sorcerers, Indie is about to uncover the many dark truths about her life—and a future unlike any she ever imagined on top of the cheer pyramid.

Review:

(I got an ARC through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

I really can’t say I enjoyed this book. It reads easily, and there were a few good ideas, and a particular twist that was clever (though extremely cruel, too), but mostly I found the characters bland at best, and the plot weighed down by the romance.

The good things:

* Cheerleader-turned-witch. I found this specific idea amusing, because it could have led to a lot of interesting situations. You expect the goth girl to turn witch. But the popular cheerleader, under everyone’s scrutiny, the one for whom the slightest faux-pas looks like committing social suicide? There’s some potential, I say.

* Witchcraft. I like witches. And magic. Simple as that.

* Bishop’s take on life: “Might as well joke, rather than dwell on the bad things and mope.” I like that.

But.

Indigo:

I had absolutely no sympathy for that character. I’d like to say I warmed up to her after a while, but at best, I must’ve felt some vaguely lukewarm sensation, somewhere in that thing people call heart. I found her incredibly self-centred, insensitive, callous, and condescending. She fancied herself a “decent” person, compared to Bianca, the jealous so-called best friend turned frenemy; however, to me, this was just one big delusion on her part. So she wasn’t a Bianca, but she was just as bad in many other ways, especially in the way she treated Paige. Paige, her neighbour who for years tried to be her friend; alas, poor Paige, you’ve always been too nerdy to Indie’s taste, and so she kept giving you the slip. Until, of course, Indie realised her friends weren’t friends, her boyfriend was a douche, and so she turned to Paige—with all the condescension she could muster, that is:

Paige shakes her head. “Where’s Bianca? Why isn’t she helping you?”
Oh. It’s like that now? You’d think the girl would recognize a bone when one was being thrown.

Except that Paige had started making other friends. The gall! The nerve! How dare you, Paige?

Tears prick my eyes. Of course she has a friend now. Of course she has plans. What did I think, that I could push and push her away and she’d always be there, waiting for me in case I ever got bored of Bianca?

At least she somewhat acknowledges it, but it’s going to take much more to make you a good girl, Indie.

Douches and doormats:

Bianca’s a douche. Stupid Boyfriend Is Stupid, I mean Devon, is a douche. When Indie finds him cheating on her with Bianca—that was so predictable, by the way—and finally stops looking at him as if he was the best thing in the world since cheesewire, Devon is devastated, because, you see:

“You still up for homecoming?”
[…]
Don’t mean to be pushy. I asked around, but everyone good already has a date now.”

Yeah, ditch the guy. At least that was one good decision.

I wish Paige had given her the finger, too. Looks like Paige’s the most decent one in the bunch, and with an ability to forgive. Only to be treated, I wouldn’t say like crap, but as expendable.

Jezebel, too. Way to let people die because you can’t be bothered saving just one more person when you have the upper hand, and are holding your enemy by the balls. If all witches are like her, I’m almost tempted to cheer on the bad guys instead.

Bishop… Not so much a douche, he was actually fairly decent, after a while. Nevertheless, the constant creepy-joker act slowed things down.

Decisions that make absolutely no sense:

Mum’s uber important Witch Bible has been stolen, and Indie promises she’s going to get it back. OK. She has no idea where to start looking. OK again. There was that shady guy, earlier, who helped her with her Mum after a bookshelf fell on her, and who seemed to know about the Bible… Hmmm, shady, all right, but at least it’s a lead: let’s drive around trying to find the guy, who anyway seems to have a knack to stalk Indigo. Might as well use the stalker’s skills against himself, right? So Indie drives around, with Paige in tow. They find the guy. And…
… Banter. Banter, semi-flirting, banter. Pointless dialogue. LOL-I-ain’t-telling-you-much. Followed by “well, let’s go to Jarrod’s party.” I thought retrieving the Bible from the bad guys’ hands was important. I must’ve been mistaken.
I might have forgiven it, if only it hadn’t been one blatant plot device, just for Indie to walk on Devon sleeping with Bianca and make her realise what an idiot Mr. Boyfriend was. Couldn’t this happen in a different way?

They drag Paige along when it comes to attacking the Bad Guys. Because bringing the human girl, the one without any powers, to a fight between witches and sorcerers is the best way to ensure her safety. It’s not like collateral damage could happen. It’s not like someone could notice her and, I don’t know, take her hostage later.

There’s also lot of wandering around, because they need a “quiet place” to talk. The Hollywood sign at night is sure a quiet place, but, again, wasn’t time of the essence?

And it may just be me, but I thought the Priory wasn’t so… active. It was quite nice of them to give Indigo one whole week to mourn her mother, but frankly, since they were the ones who took said mother hostage and then killed her, why waste time? Go hit Indie while she’s down.

Powers and training:

Well, yes, I’d have wanted to see more “witch in training”, more moments when Indigo would grow into her powers, do something with them. I wasn’t asking for anything spectacular, but she really doesn’t do much at all, and so she ends up as the whiny Damsel In Distress throughout the second part of the book.

Romance:

Not played well here in my opinion. I’ll appreciate a romance that develops… when characters have time for that. Here, the situation was kind of urgent, Indie could’ve been attacked at any moment, yet so much time was wasted on flirting and such. In turn, I felt that the plot was being held back in order for the romance to take place. The contrary would’ve been more interesting, and more believable.

So, well… I wish I had liked this one. I was really eager to read it. In the end, unfortunately, it just didn’t work at all for me.