mystery Archives - Page 7 of 13

Yzabel / November 2, 2015

Review: These Shallow Graves

These Shallow Graves by Jennifer Donnelly

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Jo Montfort is beautiful and rich, and soon—like all the girls in her class—she’ll graduate from finishing school and be married off to a wealthy bachelor. Which is the last thing she wants. Jo dreams of becoming a writer—a newspaper reporter like the trailblazing Nellie Bly.

Wild aspirations aside, Jo’s life seems perfect until tragedy strikes: her father is found dead. Charles Montfort shot himself while cleaning his pistol. One of New York City’s wealthiest men, he owned a newspaper and was a partner in a massive shipping firm, and Jo knows he was far too smart to clean a loaded gun.

The more Jo hears about her father’s death, the more something feels wrong. Suicide is the only logical explanation, and of course people have started talking, but Jo’s father would never have resorted to that. And then she meets Eddie—a young, smart, infuriatingly handsome reporter at her father’s newspaper—and it becomes all too clear how much she stands to lose if she keeps searching for the truth. But now it might be too late to stop.

The past never stays buried forever. Life is dirtier than Jo Montfort could ever have imagined, and this time the truth is the dirtiest part of all.

Review:

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

A bit too long to my taste for the story it told, although some of the scenes at the end were worth the read.

It started with interesting ideas. Jo is a wealthy girl, who may look like she’s got everything but is tied to her family’s wishes and to society’s diktats: finishing school is just that, and once she’s out of it, she’ll marry the man who was already chosen for her, and will have to give up her dreams of writing. Journalism is so below her class that she’s not even allowed to read the newspapers, and has to do so in secrecy. She doesn’t want to give up, doesn’t want to renounce, yet deep inside, she feels there’s no other choice, that choosing otherwise will ruin her family as well as herself; she’s likely to get disallowed, and it takes some bravery to risk that fate. Jo is brave… but not so brave. And although it’s not openly stated (way less openly than the “fine women = fine breeding dogs” comparison enforced by insufferable Grandmama), I think this is perhaps why she embraces the mystery surrounding her father’s death. Not only because she’s bereaved, not only because she wants to learn the truth: because this is her first and only chance at an adventure before she gets stuffed into a life she’s may or may not really want. Selfish? Maybe. But understandable.

As often in similar stories, there was romance involved, and unfortunately, in this case, it kind of killed the mood for me. The danger and stakes Jo had to face were already a lot, enough to highlight the dilemma in her existence. The love interest thrown in the middle (without any spark in there) added drama and angst-filled scenes that clashed with what could have been otherwise a fine thread woven into the mystery: Jo’s wishes to live a life of her own choosing, as a woman who wants to be a journalist (all the more since she could’ve been of the muckraker variety, albeit a few years before investigative journalism really started to soar).

Trudy smiled ruefully. “What can I say? I merely wish to smoke. Sparky can forgive that. You, on the other hand, wish to know things. And no one can forgive a girl for that.”

Instead, this took the backstage in favour of trading one man for the other, as if the real choice here was only who to love, and not the whole package. To be fair, though, the author didn’t go with the easiest solution at the end, which in my opinion is good. Still, had there been no romantic plot, it may have allowed for more development when it came to Jo’s family, her friends, and her life as a person in general; it may also have helped fleshing out the friendships she developed, as those seemed to happen too fast, too strongly, and were not really believable, not considering what the characters did for each other later.

The tone of the story was a bit… childish, considering the themes tackled (suicide, life on the streets, prostitutes and pickpockets, digging up corpses—not a spoiler, by the way, as the first chapter opens exactly on that). Often a chapter would end on a mini-cliffhanger phrased in a way that I would’ve expected from a novel with a much younger audience, so to speak (for instance, “Jo and Eddie were trapped,” or “Jo and Eddie were locked in the closet.”). This clashed with what was a more serious story. The writing style in general border on the “telling, not showing” variety, and made for a dull reading in places. I couldn’t care that much about Jo, or Eddie, whose feelings seemed more mechanical when told in such a way.

Moreover, Jo didn’t strike me as believable: she was way too ignorant and naive for someone who supposedly had an interest in investigative journalism, read the newspapers behind her parents’ backs, and was supposed to be inquisitive and sharp. A lot of times, other characters had to spell out things for her (for instance, she took her sweet time to understand the hints at what “Della’s house” meant, when it was absolutely obvious). It would’ve worked if she had been a fully-sheltered young woman of fine upbringing who had never taken an interest to anything else than her family, gardening and parties, but it didn’t fit the wannabe-journalist part of her character.

Finally, a lot of things were predictable, both in the mystery and its clues, and in how some characters were linked to the investigation plot. I suspect the latter was intended in a Dickensian way, but I found this heavy-handed (there are a few glaring references to Oliver Twist) and not very efficient. It was too easy to guess who was related to whom, and where the whole thing was going, even though, as I wrote above, some of the ending scenes were fine, and made up a little for many more boring scenes that came before.

Conclusion: an interesting historical background and OK mystery, that however would’ve unfurled more efficiently without all the romantic angst and faffing about. 1.5 to 2 stars.

Yzabel / October 6, 2015

Review: The Dead House

The Dead House by Dawn Kurtagich

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Three students: dead.
Carly Johnson: vanished without a trace.

Two decades have passed since an inferno swept through Elmbridge High, claiming the lives of three teenagers and causing one student, Carly Johnson, to disappear. The main suspect: Kaitlyn, “the girl of nowhere.”

Kaitlyn’s diary, discovered in the ruins of Elmbridge High, reveals the thoughts of a disturbed mind. Its charred pages tell a sinister version of events that took place that tragic night, and the girl of nowhere is caught in the center of it all. But many claim Kaitlyn doesn’t exist, and in a way, she doesn’t – because she is the alter ego of Carly Johnson.

Carly gets the day. Kaitlyn has the night. It’s during the night that a mystery surrounding the Dead House unravels and a dark, twisted magic ruins the lives of each student that dares touch it.

Review:

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

The kind of format I like (and I probably missed on a lot more, considering I had a digital copy, not a paper one), mixing extracts from diaries, interviews and camera clips, as well as a non-chronological narrative and an unreliable narrator.

The story mostly revolves around Carly and Kaitlyn, twin sisters of sorts, or perhaps not? They’re two minds in one body, and who can tell whether one is crazy and the other just a mere symptom, or whether they’re actually two souls who just happen to coexist in an unusual way—Carly during the day, and Kaitlyn at night? After their parents’ death, the “sisters” are sent to Elmbridge, a boarding school in Somerset, but their stay there is chaotic, as they’re regularly sent back to Claydon, a psychiatric facility for teens. Under the guidance of Dr. Lansing, Carly has to accept that Kaitlyn is only an alter, meant to hold the painful memory of the night when her family was torn asunder. And yet… Doesn’t Kaitlyn exist in her own way, too? Is she a construct, or a real person? Doesn’t her diary reflect how real she is, just as real as Carly?

“The Dead House” explores this idea, mainly from Kaitlyn’s point of view, but also through Naida’s camera footage and through the group of friends gathered around her: Naida, Carly’s best friend during daytime; Scott, Naida’s boyfriend; and Brett and Ari. Naida’s peculiar in her own way, in that she comes from a family of priests, brought up within the faith of “Mala”, an Scottish mix of traditional witchcraft and voodoo (it doesn’t actually exist, and was created specifically for this story). And she may be the only one to accept that Kaitlyn/Carly is something special, something unique.

However, there’s something rotten in the Dead House: the sisters grow estranged, pills may do more harm than good, the doctor may not be so competent as she thinks she is, and Kaitlyn’s losing herself more and more in the maze of her own mind. Fascinating elements here, that I really liked reading about. Creept imagery, too, even though I’ve read more gory and morbid.

I’m torn when it comes to other aspects of this book, though. First, the Mala part, which sometimes felt strange and… “not Scottish”? There was something unsettling about the names, whether the spirits’ or even the people’s (“Naida” and “Haji” definitely don’t sound Scottish, and their French family-name hints more at New Orleans/voodoo surroundings than British ones). It would also have been interesting to see a real set of beliefs used here, rather than an imaginary one.

Then the romance, which I didn’t particularly care about, as the story could likely have stood on its own just as well with pure friendship and similar relationships. (But I’m very nitpicky when it comes to romance, so don’t mind me here.) The love interests looked really flat compared to Kaitlyn. In fact, most characters seemed flat, including Carly. Perhaps more insights into her own diary, into the post-its the sisters left for each other, would have helped to get to know here better. As it was, I didn’t really care about her either.

I was also confused about the actual time when the story was set: the diary and footage were recovered more than 20 years later, yet there’s no real sense of “the future”. It could’ve been 2015, and it would’ve been just the same. As for the ending, it felt incomplete, and I couldn’t decide whether the supernatural element was a good thing, or if I would’ve enjoyed the novel more if it had been purely a matter of psychological disorders.

As it was, I did enjoy “The Dead House”, and I give it 3.5 stars out of 5. On the other hand, I can’t help but think that something was missing—perhaps several things, even.

Yzabel / October 5, 2015

Review: Lair of Dreams

Lair of Dreams by Libba Bray

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

After a supernatural showdown with a serial killer, Evie O’Neill has outed herself as a Diviner. Now that the world knows of her ability to “read” objects, and therefore, read the past, she has become a media darling, earning the title, “America’s Sweetheart Seer.” But not everyone is so accepting of the Diviners’ abilities…

Meanwhile, mysterious deaths have been turning up in the city, victims of an unknown sleeping sickness. Can the Diviners descend into the dreamworld and catch a killer?

Review:

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

Interesting premise, all the more because dreams fascinate me—lucid dreaming, the power to travel in dreams and even shape them—but possibly too ambitious a book for its own good.

The good stuff:

* Dreams and dream walkers. People who can travel in dreams and remember everything upon waking up, consciously alter others’ dreams, find the spirits of the dead to ask them for answers… Meeting other dreamers like them: Henry, Ling, Wai-Mae. The many landscapes found in there, and how they may or may not have ties to the real world. As said: fascinating.

* More bits about the bigger picture: the man in the stove pipe hat. The mysterious men in suits, all with (obviously fake) names of dead presidents. Project Buffalo. Sam’s mother.

* The last chapters, and how the characters had to basically work in both worlds to save the day.

* The sleeping sickness.

* Vivid descriptions, sometimes really creepy and eerie.

And the not so good…:

* Half the characters were left aside or weren’t terribly relevant for a good two thirds of the plot. While I found Ling interesting, and Henry got more screen time, it was frustrating to see Jericho left dangling in his museum, Will pretty much out of the picture all the time, Evie doing her radio show (then partying/getting drunk, rinse and repeat), and Theta and Memphis… just standing there in the background, looking cool? I can easily appreciate a plot with a large cast, but here it felt like the two arcs (the sleeping sickness + Project Buffalo) could have benefitted from having each their own novel.

* Everything being all over the place, including the historical themes (immigrants, racial tensions, the KKK…): interesting, yet so many things to tackle that in the end, just like the main characters, they didn’t really come together.

* Inconsistencies. Why did Ling take ages to notice what should be absolutely oblivious, considering her own abilities within dreams?

* Mabel. There was no point in having her around. The poor girl should just forget about Jericho and go live her life.

* Still a lot of 20s slang. I didn’t particularly care for it, and it was repetitive. Like a good deal of the book, in fact.

Conclusion: Really good ideas, only the execution didn’t convince me, and I felt that more threads were left dangling, without any real, solid resolution (even the sleeping sickness arc isn’t 100% resolved, with questions remaining about what caused it in the first place).

Yzabel / October 3, 2015

Review: The Heartless City

The Heartless City by Andrea Berthot

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Henry Jekyll was a brilliant doctor, a passionate idealist who aimed to free mankind of selfishness and vice. He’s also the man who carelessly created a race of monsters.

Once shared secretly among the good doctor’s inner circle, the Hyde drug was smuggled into mass-production – but in pill form, it corrupted its users at the genetic level, leaving them liable to transform without warning. A quarter of the population are now clandestine killers – ticking bombs that could detonate at any given moment.

It’s 1903, and London has been quarantined for thirteen years.

Son of the city’s most prominent physician and cure-seeker, seventeen-year-old Elliot Morrissey has had his own devastating brush with science, downing a potion meant to remove his human weaknesses and strengthen him against the Hydes – and finding instead he’s become an empath, leveled by the emotions of a dying city.

He finds an unlikely ally in Iris Faye, a waitress at one of the city’s rowdier music halls, whose emotions nearly blind him; her fearlessness is a beacon in a city rife with terror. Iris, however, is more than what she seems, and reveals a mission to bring down the establishment that has crippled the people of London.

Together, they aim to discover who’s really pulling the strings in Jekyll’s wake, and why citizens are waking up in the street infected, with no memory of ever having taken the Hyde drug…

Heart-eating monsters, it turns out, are not the greatest evil they must face.

Review:

[I received a copy from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.]

First thing first: gorgeous cover is gorgeous.

I liked the characters in general. Elliot who was a good soul from the beginning, and had to understand that what he perceived as a “weakness” was in fact his greatest strength, all the more after he became an empath. Iris whose mind was open to knowledge and revelations, who accepted people as they were, whose emotions were strong and pure even though she always had to keep them hidden behind her mask.

And some of the secondary characters were pretty good, too. Cam, who couldn’t be himself and whose soul was slowly being snuffed out by his father’s desires and blows. I especially liked Philomena, who could so easily have been a snotty brat, yet turned out to be a strong person, aware that the life her parents had decided for her may actually kill her (married and pregnant at 15, when her body’s still almost that of a child’s), and making plans to have a life of her own instead.

The setting was interesting: a dark, dangerous, quarantined London, 13 years after Dr. Jekyll’s drug changed the face of the city by filling it with monsters derived from the original Mr. Hyde. Only men can be infected (the drug always kills women immediately), and they never know when they’re going to change and rip some poor sod’s heart. Either people go out with guns and machetes, or they’d better run very, very fast. And the poorer people, of course, don’t have any choice in the matter, as they can’t shelter themselves in some mansion or palace, living off what’s left of past fortunes.

The depiction of society here, of what people believed and considered as “proper”, was partly revolting, yet at the same time extremely fitting, in a “people reverted to even older Victorian values” ways. Relationships considered as unnatural. The upper class viewing the working class as faulty and even “deserving” of being killed by Hydes. The budding suffragettes movement crushed because there was no royalty nor parliament left to bring those ideas to. Women being victims in many ways (subverted in that those potential victims were also sturdy pioneers: Virginia, Iris, Philomena, Lady Cullum). Preaching the greatest values, while practicing hypocrisy on a daily basis. This was quite close to the dichotomy I’ve always found fascinating in Victorian mores, full of nobility, but also straying due to associating poverty with vice and laziness, for instance.

The romance: closer to the insta-love type (Iris and Elliot), but bearable. Elliot could fill emotions, after all, so obviously the attraction couldn’t just be physical only: it had to be everything at once on his part. Iris’s side of the romance may have evolved too fast, though. I don’t know. As for Cam… that was beautiful. Sad, too. But beautiful.

Where the book was wanting for me was paradoxically in this setting as well, and in the plot itself: basically, I just wished for more. I would’ve liked to see more of those dark streets, more of the Hydes murdering people, so that what happened in the story would have had even more of an impact. Many plot points were also fairly predictable. It didn’t bother me that much, because this was a case of “even though I know what’s going to happen, I’m still excited and I’m thrilled when it does happen”, but it could easily become a downfall: had I been in a different state of mind when I read the book, it may have dampened my experience.

I was also torn about a specific decision Iris made: incredibly dangerous and bordering on stupid, although at that moment she probably wouldn’t have had many other options, and at least it allowed her to stay at the palace, something she had been meaning to do anyway.

Finally, I’m holding a grudge against the blurb, because it was misleading: I thought the characters would discover the plot’s secrets together, but as it turned out, some of them knew a lot from the beginning—and at the same time, the blurb revealed a coupld ot things that, in my opinion, should’ve best been left for the reader to discover later.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed “The Heartless City”, even though I keep thinking it could’ve been more than what it is. 3.5 stars for a pleasant read no matter what.

Yzabel / September 26, 2015

Review: Havelock, Part 2

Havelock: Two by Jane D. Everly

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Eliana Havelock is a female with no past, whose determination to bring down a Karachi arms dealer catches the attention of the British Secret Intelligence Service. MI-6 is currently fractured due to political upheaval, with many of its covert programs dissolved or disbanded. When Eliana presents the opportunity to divert an international arms disaster, the head of MI-6 partners her with one of its best and brightest, the enigmatic, Connor Blackwell. But in a world of secrets and hidden agendas, who can Eliana trust? And what, or who, is Eliana really after?

Review:

[I received a copy from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.]

Second instalment in the “Havelock” series. I had read the first episode a few months ago, and I must say I pretty much enjoyed this one as well.

A lot of things from my first review keep standing true here. The shift from 1st to 3rd person is still puzzling, but doesn’t bother me much. Eliana is still a fun character to read about (that scene with the psychatrist? Totally something *I* would have one of my RPG characters do). The chase goes on, with some action scenes described in an enjoyable way. The villain and his sidekick are one step ahead, while the “heroes” are also skilled enough to try and keep up no matter what.

I’m waiting for more background and fleshing out of Blackwell, and some revelations about Eliana’s past (there’s a hint about her father, I may or may not be right, but it’d be funny if I were). Hopefully in the next parts of this serial!

3.5 to 4 stars.

Yzabel / August 15, 2015

Review: The Fold

The Fold by Peter Clines

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

STEP INTO THE FOLD.
IT’S PERFECTLY SAFE.

The folks in Mike Erikson’s small New England town would say he’s just your average, everyday guy. And that’s exactly how Mike likes it. Sure, the life he’s chosen isn’t much of a challenge to someone with his unique gifts, but he’s content with his quiet and peaceful existence.

That is, until an old friend presents him with an irresistible mystery, one that Mike is uniquely qualified to solve: far out in the California desert, a team of DARPA scientists has invented a device they affectionately call the Albuquerque Door. Using a cryptic computer equation and magnetic fields to “fold” dimensions, it shrinks distances so that a traveler can travel hundreds of feet with a single step.

The invention promises to make mankind’s dreams of teleportation a reality. And, the scientists insist, traveling through the Door is completely safe.

Yet evidence is mounting that this miraculous machine isn’t quite what it seems—and that its creators are harboring a dangerous secret.

As his investigations draw him deeper into the puzzle, Mike begins to fear there’s only one answer that makes sense. And if he’s right, it may only be a matter of time before the project destroys…everything.

Review:

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

Excellent idea and premise, although I wasn’t really convinced by the ending.

I liked the main character’s ability (eidetic memory): although convenient, alright, it’s also interesting. Mike’s take on it, on life the way he wanted to lead it, may have seemed silly at first, yet kind of made sense at the same time: somewhat resenting being “special”, because it set him apart, made people react to him differently, perhaps even more because he “wasn’t trying”… but also pushing him to want to know more about that odd and potentially twisted government project his old friend Reggie sends him on. Both a blessing and a curse, so to speak.

As for the project itself, “teleportation” in general is one of those ideas that have always fascinated me (and not only because long commutes are getting old fairly quickly). Space-folding is definitely a subset of this, with all the questions, the “hows” and the “what ifs…” it raises; the main theme behind the Albuquerque Door project grabbed my attention from the beginning, and I eagerly kept reading to see what would unfold (no pun intended), what the catch was, how the characters would react… I suppose Mike should’ve guessed sooner, perhaps? I don’t know. Everybody was behaving in shifty ways and sending mixed signals, which in retrospect was totally normal, so probably anyone, even a genius, would be confused at some point. These strange relationships between, on the one hand, scientists and engineers who all had their quirks, and Mike with his own quirks too on the other hand, were intriguing. Much like Reggie himself, as a reader, I could feel that something was wrong, yet without being able to put my finger on what exactly.

The Big Reveal didn’t disappoint: extremely logical yet unexpected enough, as there could have been several other explanations behind the science of the Door and what happened every time it was opened. This part of the novel had a Fringe-quality for me (the TV series, I mean), and was intriguing as well as horrifying, considering what it involved and implied for the characters. That was clearly a world-shattering revelation.

My main issue with this story was its last third, when the horror was given a face, so to speak. The ontological implications of the Door, the secret behind it, were more horrifying for me than what happened afterwards. By comparison, the “regulation system” (for want of a non-spoilerish term) seemed banal and a bit cliché. The way the characters chose to solve the issue was unfortunately a cliché as well, and I wasn’t really sold on the romance part either. (The latter was both really important, as it allowed to unveil the mystery, and enough on the side to keep me from rolling my eyes—too often, in many novels, characters are busy frolicking instead of attending more pressing matters such as saving the world.)

Conclusion: An interesting novel, with a fascinating theme that raises a lot of questions, prompting a lasting malaise in turn. However, the ending felt disappointing when pitched against the rest. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / August 2, 2015

Review: Little Girls

Little Girls by Ronald Malfi

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Blurb:

When Laurie was a little girl, she was forbidden to enter the room at the top of the stairs. It was one of many rules imposed by her cold, distant father. Now, in a final act of desperation, her father has exorcised his demons. But when Laurie returns to claim the estate with her husband and ten-year-old daughter, it’s as if the past refuses to die. She feels it lurking in the broken moldings, sees it staring from an empty picture frame, hears it laughing in the moldy greenhouse deep in the woods…

At first, Laurie thinks she’s imagining things. But when she meets her daughter’s new playmate, Abigail, she can’t help but notice her uncanny resemblance to another little girl who used to live next door. Who died next door. With each passing day, Laurie’s uneasiness grows stronger, her thoughts more disturbing. Like her father, is she slowly losing her mind? Or is something truly unspeakable happening to those sweet little girls?

Review:

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

An idea that seemed creepy and interesting, but that just fell flat for me.

The beginning was rather slow, with descriptions that quickly became too tedious to go through, and often the dialogues felt useless and too on the “daily conversation” side. It worked at first, to establish the normalcy of the situation (as normal as it could be considering the circumstances); however, after a while, breakfast banter and the likes didn’t bring anything to the story, and were tiring to go through. I skimmed some of those parts, hoping to get to the next creepy bit, since creepy is what I wanted.

Too many of the characters’ actions and thoughts were told, rather than shown. Although it’s never easy when dealing with psychological aspects, as obviously a lot is internalised and cannot necessarily be “shown”, here I never felt close to the characters, as if I was meant to stand remote, and watch them without “feeling” anything for them—especially when flashbacks were concerned. At times, they would come out of nowhere, at length, and then mentioned again later to other characters, almost in passing: maybe it would’ve worked better for me if I could have read them at those moments, when they were more relevant, and not at some random point in the first chapters. When Laurie’s secrets started surfacing (what Sadie did to her, for instance), I couldn’t bother caring anymore. I could muster neither much interest nor compassion for Laurie or Ted—who had a knack also for coming up with his own crap when it wasn’t needed. (Seriously? You really had to tell ease your guilt by telling your wife, when clearly she was going through her father’s death and potentially getting crazy?)

The ending was frustrating. It hinted at a specific event, but without spelling it, and echoed in this way the fact that no answer was given as to whether Laurie was actually crazy or not. I still don’t know now if she imagined everything, was just stressed out, was haunted by an actual ghost, was plain crazy… In this regard, a more definite ending would have been more satisfying for me. It seemed to me that there wasn’t that much of a plot, and that the “ghost” didn’t do much for most of the story except just be there. Not to mention the twist about Laurie’s father, coming when I didn’t care anymore. I admit I finished reading because I expected an answer… and I never really got one.

I liked the setting, though: the creepy house with its old furniture, the well and the dilapidated glass house that were clearly a catastrophe in the making, the photographs of little girls kept in an album, what Laurie discovered in the garage. Still, it wasn’t enough to sell me on this novel. 1.5 stars.

Yzabel / July 22, 2015

Review: The House of Shattered Wings

The House of Shattered Wings by Aliette de Bodard

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

In the late Twentieth Century, the streets of Paris are lined with haunted ruins. The Great Magicians’ War left a trail of devastation in its wake. The Grand Magasins have been reduced to piles of debris, Notre-Dame is a burnt-out shell, and the Seine has turned black with ashes and rubble and the remnants of the spells that tore the city apart. But those that survived still retain their irrepressible appetite for novelty and distraction, and The Great Houses still vie for dominion over France’s once grand capital.

Once the most powerful and formidable, House Silverspires now lies in disarray. Its magic is ailing; its founder, Morningstar, has been missing for decades; and now something from the shadows stalks its people inside their very own walls.

Within the House, three very different people must come together: a naive but powerful Fallen angel; an alchemist with a self-destructive addiction; and a resentful young man wielding spells of unknown origin. They may be Silverspires’ salvation—or the architects of its last, irreversible fall. And if Silverspires falls, so may the city itself.

Review:

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

I liked the premise, I really did—not to mention that theme of the broken, rotting throne at night against the backdrop of a ruined Paris. There’s something both sick and magical to such a city. The Seine river blackened and polluted by magic turned sour, horrors lurking in its waters. Gangs scrapping remnants in order to survive, Fallen angels being their favourite preys, preys that end stripped up of blood and bone and basically everything, for the power those organs can bring. Houses full of mages, Fallens and their dependents, vying for domination, yet also teetering on the brink of destruction, for the last large-scale conflict among them ended up being the 1914 war, the Great War nobody nor any place in the world seems to have recovered even 60 years later…

Yes. Definitely enchanting, in a morbid way. I couldn’t help but be fascinated by this charred landscape, by the sheer hopelessness permeating eveything and everyone, despite the pseudo-grandeur some of the characters tried to keep as their facade. Descriptions here worked pretty well for me, making it easy to create this picture of Paris in my mind, all the more because I’ve walked those places, the parvis of Notre-Dame, the Halles, and so on. The atmosphere was somewhat old-fashioned, in that people in the story clung to a world long gone by (far away colonies entangled in the War, displays from fashion stores back when everything was still gilded…), and a lot of names were really traditional French names (Ninon, Madeleine, Isabelle, Philippe…). Although, as a native French speaker, it was also somewhat weird to see those names associated to English ones like Silverspires or Morningstar; that’s a matter of language on my part, though, and not any fault of the book.

And no romance. There was no room for that here. The only “links” were of blood and curses and magic and slavery of sorts. No “souls destined to be together”. The relationship between Philippe and Isabelle definitely wasn’t born under the brightest star, so to speak.

The reason why I’m not rating this novel higher is because… I wanted more. The mystery, the curse, those were intriguing, but the balance between unveiling them, developing the characters and showing the world around them was regularly a bit off. I would have wanted to see more interaction between Philippe, Isabelle and Madeleine; see more about how they evolved, or rather, could have evolved as people. I expected to see more of House politics, of the complex webbing of alliances and betrayal and various other ways of pecking at each other. More about Philippe’s origins and what his presence in Paris meant, more questioning about immortality and fallen angels, perhaps? At times, I felt that all that was more akin to beating around the bush, and that a while elapsed with nothing really happening, neither in terms of events nor of character growth. That while would’ve been the perfect place to inject… well, “more”.

I was also not too convinced by some of the secondary characters, more specifically Selene. I expected more cunning on her part, as someone who had been playing the game of House politics for decades. As a Head of House, she wasn’t “older” than Asmodeus, yet the latter and his schemes hooked me much more, seemed more ruthless and thus believable. I got it, nobody could have equalled Morningstar, but…

All in all, this is still an “I liked it” book. Just not the “I’m in awe” story I had hoped for.

Yzabel / July 12, 2015

Review: Darkness Brutal

Darkness Brutal by Rachel A. Marks

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Aidan O’Linn’s childhood ended the night he saw a demon kill his mother and mark his sister, Ava, with Darkness. Since then, every three years the demons have returned to try to claim her. Living in the gritty, forgotten corners of Los Angeles, Aidan has managed to protect his sister, but he knows that even his powers to fight demons and speak dead languages won’t keep her safe for much longer.

In desperation, Aidan seeks out the help of Sid, the enigmatic leader of a group of teens who run LA Paranormal, an Internet reality show that fights demons and ghosts. In their company, Aidan believes he’s finally found a haven for Ava. But when he meets Kara, a broken girl who can spin a hypnotic web of passionate energy, he awakens powers he didn’t know he had―and unleashes a new era of war between the forces of Light and the forces of Darkness.

With the fate of humanity in his hands, can Aidan keep the Darkness at bay and accept his brilliant, terrifying destiny?

Review:

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

The beginning of this novel was interesting and full of promises, combining Aidan and his sister Ava being targetted by demons to a mysterious man, Sid, gathering gifted youth with abilities to see and/or touch the supernatural. Yet a few things definitely rubbed me the wrong way after a while.

Aidan as a character was fairly enjoyable. He’s had a hard life, but doesn’t spend his time whining about it, instead doing what he can to ensure his little sister, at least, gets something better (not just a foster family: also avoiding the death of said family). He’s a decent person all around, the kind of guy who’ll help a girl in danger and not take advantage of her in any way, or who’ll recognise that someone alluring and sexy may not necessarily mean “I want to have sex with you”. He perceived the frailty within Rebecca and Kara, that what they were doing was not necessarily their choice or to their liking, and openly stated that he didn’t want Kara to do something she wasn’t convinced of, all the more after what she had been through.

Kara had a somewhat annoying, twitchy side—going from one reaction to the complete opposite. On the other hand, she also used what she had been dealt in order to try and make things better. Scarred and tough at the same time, in the spirit of survival and of refusing to let her former life crush her.

I still don’t know what to think about the “romance”. There was attraction and manipulation, and I didn’t really feel much chemistry, considering that one girl was basically attracted because of supernatural reasons, and the other… as well?

A more prominent issue for me was how the story suffered of regular cases of ain’t-telling-you-nothing-itis. It’s not the first nor the last time I notice that in novels. Sure, some information needs to be kept hidden, because disclosing everything at once is a) overwhelming and b) not really interesting. However, I don’t like it when it feels that the revealing of said information is artificially pushed back as far as possible in order to create confusion as a plot device. The “I’m not telling you in order to protect you” and “I’m keeping this secret, surely it won’t cause trouble for everyone later” kind. Aidan demanded information, while withdrawing important info of his own. Ava kept to herself and did things behind her brother’s back, instead of talking to him and maybe, just maybe, trying to find a third way to solve their issues. Sid was annoying as well in that regard, as he knew or at least suspected a lot of important stuff about Aidan, yet postponed its revealing, only to act later along the lines of “you have to listen to me because it’s absolutely crucial you act accordingly, wait, why don’t you want to listen to me now, is it maybe because you’ve become fed up with waiting?”

Granted, Aidan not wanting to tell the truth about Ava, nor about his reasons to bring her with him, was understandable. But other happenings could’ve been avoided if only the characters in general had been more open about some things. All those hidden agendas didn’t make for a good ground for budding trust, and in turn, it made things go the wrong way. A wrong way which was easy to foresee as a device.

I wasn’t sold either on the biblical/Babylonian/seers stuff. It seemed to pop out of nowhere, and not to be very well integrated within the general “mythology” of the urban fantasy world developed here. While reading, I had a feeling that its purpose was to make the usual angels/demons backdrop different, without really succeeding.

2.5 stars. Overall, there were good ideas in here, but all the beating around the bush was a little too much for me to stomach.

Yzabel / July 9, 2015

Review: The Mysterious Disappearance of the Reluctant Book Fairy

The Mysterious Disappearance of the Reluctant Book Fairy by Elizabeth George

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Janet Shore was born into a quiet life—the sickly, most easily overlooked daughter of a brood of eight boisterous children. But Jane’s tendency to fall ill and her natural penchant for devouring stories in her sickbed reveal a most extraordinary ability: the power to fully immerse herself in a book—in mind and soul if not in body. By tethering her wrist to a suitable anchor in the real world and with the recitation of several key words, Jane can spend hour after hour in whatever literary plot has stolen her fancy.

But such a power is an enticing thing, and that which tempts the desires of the masses is sure to bring overwhelming fame to its bearer. Where can someone so well known escape for peace and solitude?

Review:

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

A delightful novelette about a woman with the power to send herself (or others) into scenes from books, complete with many references to many well-known works—although they aren’t always directly named. The beginning and ending tie in a somewhat grave way, but there are also plenty of semi-comedic moments in between, from the parts of the narrative focused on Janet to the ones involvie Monie. Not to mention Mildred, who was somewhat annoying, yet with good sides as well.

The story is too short to involve lots of progressive character development. However, it manages to deal with quite a few questions in little time, especially when it comes to Janet’s power and how it turns her life upside down. Of course, human nature is bound to ruin a lot of things. Of course, too, some people do manage to wake up, and realise that the dream has turned into a nightmare.

The various pot-shots at some books, at what “trash” is or isn’t, made me smile, as well as reflect upon the value we bring to literature in general. For instance, the only vampire story allowed in here is Bram Stoker’s, while romance also gets its share of “I refuse to send you in there, try this instead”. While I would mostly agree with such judgments on those books, it still makes one wonder. As Mildred puts it, one’s man trash is another’s treasure…

Somehow, I wish this had been longer. Nonetheless, this book was very pleasant and enjoyable to read. 3.5 stars.