Ravenous Bookshelf

*Disclaimer: I received this as an ARC in the mail

Review: 3.5 / 5 stars

Riley Blackthorne has a pretty rough life. For one thing, she's training to become a licensed demon trapper, a profession that isn't known for pro-feminist traditions. For another, she's the daughter of Paul Blackthorne, a living legend in demon trapping circles. So there are some high stakes involved.

But Paul Blackthorne doesn't even want his daughter in the family business. Especially after his wife's death, he has an understandable objection to Riley dancing with demons. He hasn't managed to dissuade her yet, but Riley herself is getting discouraged -- there's only so much demon pee and public humiliation she can take, and botching her trappings is getting her nowhere towards fully licensed.

Still, Riley's convinced that she has all the skills, and she starts to wonder if something's standing in her way. Something besides Beck, her father's obnoxious apprentice/partner, a Southern hick who keeps needling Riley about her age, her inexperience, and oh, that little crush she used to have on him...

Turns out Riley's right. Demons are afoot, but they aren't just after her. After an attack rips her life apart, Riley has to figure out who to trust and what's really going on - and how to shake the annoying new guardian who's suddenly manifested in Beck. Oh, and there's another cute boy involved: Simon, a fellow apprentice who seems almost too golden to be true.

This book was written as a series starter, and it shows -- there's a lot of buildup and not much conclusion, with many loose ends to be resolved. This wouldn't be a problem, except that the worldbuilding was a little sparse, with not enough fully explained (why are the demons here? what are the protective properties of metal? who are these demonkillers from Rome?). There was a lot of Talking About How Things Are, but not enough Showing -- and the start of a series is the place for it.

The characters were engaging enough, but I'm going to snark at the dialogue -- we don't need to hear Beck's 'deep South' accent in every sentence, and Oliver's representation of a Scottish brogue made me cringe.

I'm reserving judgment a bit due to the obvious series-ness, but I really wanted more organic backstory and more balanced pacing in the first installment. This may really find its feet later on, but Riley hasn't trapped me yet.

Rating: 4 / 5 stars

Yes, another werewolf book. But this one felt like an ideal combination of Blood and Chocolate and Raised by Wolves, in that we have a very sexual heroine who isn't afraid of being dominant and in touch with her wolfy self -- but who also is very pack-responsible and not a self-centered whiny princess (*coughViviancough*).

Calla has a lot on her plate, even for an alpha female. Not only is she betrothed to the alpha of another pack who insists on pushing the boundaries of 'friends,' she also has to deal with an annoying human boy who knows her Pack's secret...see, she sorta-accidentally saved him from being grizzly-meat in the mountains, but she shifted forms to do it. Right in front of said Boy in Peril.

Werewolf fail.

Meanwhile, uniting with the Bane pack is bringing its own set of politics, as Calla begins to realize that being an alpha mate will restrict her freedoms even further. She's grown up with the double standard that Ren, the Bane alpha, can sleep around all he likes (after all, he's a growing boy) but she must remain 'pure' for the union. But as their Samhain engagement approaches, Calla begins to question many of the 'givens' in her life -- not least being the ever-present Keepers who determine mating rules and pack orders. The lore explains that the Guardians (read: werewolves) protect the Keepers, who in turn keep the world from falling into chaos. This means that the Keepers basically rule Calla's life. But when Shay (re: Boy in Peril) shows up at her school, he starts digging into her culture and overturning all her truths.

Calla is not a happy puppy.

Shay has his own problems; he's been adopted by the Keepers, but he has no idea who they really are. And they seem to want something from him, which may be tied up in an obscure prophecy and a tattoo on Shay's neck that only Calla can see.

Oh, and if anyone finds out that Shay knows about Calla and the Keepers,* they're all dead.

Got it?

The best thing about this book is its fullness, in character and scope. All of the characters are nicely rounded, even Ren, who makes for a compelling male lead in his own right, instead of just The Other One in a typical love triangle. You'll like Calla's packmates, who are fighting their own battles of self-determination and getting caught up in romance (Mason and Neville, you have my vote). And Shay? Well, I've gotta love a boy who breaks into private libraries and approaches Peril with Research.

This isn't Anna Karenina, but it's impressively complex for a YA werewolf offering. And if the prose sometimes dips into the lust sparklefest zone, Cremer cuts in nicely with some self-deprecating humor. However, a warning: there is a major cliffhanger ending. It is painful. But it does seem to be planned instead of randomly tossed in, so that means I have to wait (curse you, series!) until the next installment in July.

---

*I've just realized that would be an awesome band name.

Rating: 3.5 / 5 stars

Nimira grew up in a world of lush gardens, court intrigue, and the luxury of the palace. But after her mother's death and her father's debts, she finds herself on a dingy stage, singing the ballads of her homeland to a rabble of commoners who see her as an exotic sideshow. A trousergirl.

Not exactly what she had dreamed of, growing up.

However, Nim is resilient and determined, and she keeps her eyes fixed on her goal. Even if she could never compare to her own mother's brilliant performances, Nim wants to make a name for herself. She wants to earn true respect for her art, and make her audience recognize her as more than just a novelty.

Trouble is, Nim's career seems to have stalled. Until a Mysterious Gentleman appears in her audience and offers her a new job: singing accompaniment to a fairy-made automaton, to an audience of Lorinar's upper set.

There are a few problems with this scenario. For one, Nim isn't all sure that she wants to put herself in the hands of a stranger, having so little legal and financial protection herself, to become basically another set-piece to an exotic show -- the Machine and the Heathen. For another, Mr. Parry is said to have a tragic past, including a dead wife.

For a third thing, the automaton is said to be haunted.

Nim says yes anyway, and then things get complicated.

I enjoyed this book, especially for how Nim managed to maintain her autonomy and Get Things Done -- not by rebelling against her limited position and smashing things up, but by working within her constraints. This showed control and strength of character far more impressive than a "can't hold me down" tantrum ever would (not to mention: far more effective).

It was a bit sparse on supporting character details, and the world-building is not done, but I expect that shall be covered in later installments. There must, of course, be later installments. I'd have liked more solid character building and setting work, but you can't help but love and admire Nim.

So, I may be tepid on the overall book, but I am Team Nim all the way.

Rating: 3.5 / 5 stars

If you're a vampire, hag, werewolf or faerie, you should probably stay away from Evie, because a) she can see right through your glamours and b) she has a taser.

It is pink, sparkly, and she calls it Tasey.

Avoiding Evie is going to be difficult, though, because she's a member of the International Paranormal Containment Agency, and her job -- actually, her whole life -- is about tracking down otherworldly creatures and neutralizing them. Which means a quick jolt from Tasey, clamping an anklet on the unlucky creature, and then reading them their rights.

For the hapless hag or vampire, this basically amounts to: stop eating people, or the anklet will trigger a lethal dose of electricity, holy water, silver, or what-have-you.

Most of the people Evie meets on the job aren't that happy to see her. Or count as people, exactly.

For a teenage girl, it's not an ideal life, but Evie has her best friend mermaid Lish and seasons of Easton Heights, her all-time favorite teen soap, back at the Center. And Raquel, her boss, is even kind of the mother Evie never had, in a disapproving-sighing way.

But then something starts killing off paranormals, and Evie runs into a boy who's even stranger than she is, and he seems to know something about what's going on, while hinting that the IPCA isn't maybe the awesome organization it pretends to be...

I liked this book as a light read, and it's all due to Evie. She's just irrepressible, and her natural optimism and friendliness somehow didn't come off as annoying or stupid or both, which is impressive. She even almost made me forgive her ridiculous love of pink. Almost.

I only had two real issues: the 'love triangle' setup that the marketing copy seemed to be pushing, and the lack of explanation on Evie's past. [Warning: mildly spoilerish]

I do not mind The Romance. The boy that Evie is Meant to Be With has many lovely qualities and is quite swoon-worthy in his way. The Other One is, frankly, abusive.

Okay, so he's a faerie, and they are typically uninterested in petty mortal things like morals. Reth has his own agenda, and that's all that matters to him, and that's fine. Essential to the plot, etc. -- I get it. But no way should anyone be portraying his actions towards Evie as anything romantic. Just no. The whole interaction is the picture of an abusive relationship, even to the part where Evie gets told she's "overreacting."

I nearly threw the book across the room. I realize this may be my personal issue. But I have to believe that there was no thought in the author's mind of Reth being a serious contender for Evie's affections, and the plot, thankfully, bears this out.

The other issue was just a case of "I want more!" whenever it came to Evie's background or the faeries or the various prophecies swirling around. The book may have been trying for mysterious, but the overall effect was frustrating. Perhaps a sequel in the works?

Excellent pick-me-up read if you'd like to hang out with Evie (and you will).

Rating: 5 / 5 stars, plus AWE

My eternal gratitude goes to the young woman at the ALA conference who convinced me to pick up this book and take it home with me. Where it shall now stay.

Andi Alpers is in Hell. Her brother is dead, her mother is insane, and she is about to be expelled from her prestigious prep school in Brooklyn. At this point, Andi really couldn't care less. The pills and her music are the only things keeping her here, but she's slipping further every day...

Until her famous geneticist father gets wind of her impending expulsion and drags her off to Paris to finish her senior thesis. Desperate to get home, Andi throws herself into her research, a project on the musical 'genetics' of Amadé Malherbeau, a 19th century French musician who composed the mysteriously-titled "Fireworks Concerto."

Andi just wants to get back to Brooklyn. She doesn't care about her father's controversial project: testing an ancient preserved heart that may have belonged to the son of the late Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette -- a little boy who saw his world crumble during the Revolution. But then Andi finds a beautifully-preserved guitar among the collection of artifacts. And inside the guitar case, she finds a hidden compartment with what seems to be a diary...

Trust me, this book is so much more than its plotline, although Donnelly does a flawless job of weaving two narratives together, as Andi reads the account of a girl her age during the Revolution -- Alexandrine Paradis is a street performer with aspirations to the stage, but she finds herself drawn into roles she cannot control as her countrymen tear each other to pieces. Until there is nothing left in her but the drive for one mission; this girl, who watched her world burn and her people close their eyes, becomes determined to set the skies on fire.

I loved how much of the story was interlaced with music, and its power to express when words fail us. And even though I'm not a total music nerd like Andi, she made me appreciate the complexity of the musical tradition, how musicians draw from each other and leave their legacies, so that even today a rock star can carry echoes of Beethoven in one haunting chord.

Really, this book is full of beauty as it circles around one ultimate question: Why? In a world choked with madness, cruelty, grief, fury, and despair, rolling endlessly along the iron rails of History -- why bother? Why try? Why even dare to hope?

Read this book. It may not stay with you in the same way; it may not change you or the way you see the world, even slightly.

But I doubt it.

Rating: 3.5 / 5 stars

Tessa Gray has a problem. Several problems, actually. Her aunt has died suddenly, leaving her an orphan in New York in 1878 with no worldly belongings and little cash. Fortunately, her brother Nate has just sent her steamer tickets and a letter, inviting her to come live with him in London. Except that when she gets there, Nate is not, and Tessa is kidnapped.

Oh, dear.

This is actually a prequel to Cassandra Clare's bestselling Mortal Instruments series, but you don't need to have read those to enjoy Clockwork Angel. Honestly, besides one lovely side character and a few surnames, I didn't recognize much - though it should please fans of the 'later' books.

Also, do not fret: this may be set in Victorian times, but there is no shortage of blood and battle and even some scandalous drenched-shirt action. After all, Clare specializes in three things: action, witty banter, and sizzling chemistry (with some banter on the side).

Tessa is a great protagonist; she is tossed into an overwhelming supernatural world and yet avoids becoming either a) google-eyed and passive or b) improbably adept and Chosen One-ish. The second option was a definite possibility, since Tessa soon discovers that she may not be altogether human. Which is rather a nasty shock.

But, our heroine keeps her priorities straight! First, she must find and rescue her brother from Certain Peril. And if this means consorting with the Enclave, a secret band of supernatural warriors pledged to defend the human race, so be it. And if that means dealing with Will Herondale, a beautiful, magnetic boy with a worrying lack of self-preservation instinct or respect for personal space...well, all in the name of duty!

Will is the obligatory devil-may-care-but-I-sure-as-hell-don't male lead, but I found myself more interested in the other characters through most of the book. And they are well worth the attention, especially Jessamine, a Shadowhunter who is trapped as warrior in a society that values gentle wives -- and the way that she deals with this is fascinating. Yet also frequently annoying.

This book is the first in a trilogy, so do not be surprised at cliffhangers! Because Clare has a nasty habit of those. But I care far too much about the characters now (and my love for Victoriana is neverending) so I'm just going to have to wait with the rest of you. Oh, the pain!

Rating: 4 / 5 stars

You'll probably like this book if you enjoy the following:

*a (literally) kickass heroine

*an intriguing and engaging romance

*an intricate, magnificent mythology

In Guardian of the Dead, the landscape and legends of New Zealand deserve just as much focus as the main character (who is impressive in her own right). I'm not terribly myth-knowledgeable beyond some of the basics -- certain Greek stories about incest and such, the old faeire tales of getting stolen away, a few creation myths here and there. So it was a real pleasure to enter Ellie's world and find a rich cultural tradition waiting for me...which makes it sound way too academic and dusty. Believe me, this is about blood and fury and fighting for your life and soul, not to mention dealing with incredibly creepy things happening to eyes. (Aghgh).

But Ellie really sold the book on me. This girl is strong. Yes, physically, since she's a black belt in tae kwon do and not a lightweight either -- but also emotionally and mentally. She's dealt with her mother's battle with cancer and adjusting to a new boarding school without becoming bitter, and she's steadfast in her commitments to friends. She's also nobody's fool, which made the mythological events in this book really work -- if Ellie could come to terms with this crazy stuff happening, then so could I.

And what crazy stuff it is. Besides the not-unpleasant oddity of her longtime crush Mark suddenly taking notice of her, Ellie is also experiencing sudden lapses in memory followed by vomit-inducing migraines when she tries to fill in the gaps...not to mention that a deeply creepy red-haired woman has come striding out of the nightly mists to join their school production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. In the role of Titania, of course. And this lady is taking an odd interest in Ellie's best friend Kevin...

Ellie's only involved in the play to direct the fight scenes, which is both totally awesome and totally appropriate. Other bloggers have made note of how often Ellie gets beat up in this book, and it is true -- our girl takes it on the chin a lot. But she dishes it out, too, and I don't want to spoil the book but I will pose a question: Wouldn't you just love it if the heroine's response to Mysterious Boy Being Frustratingly Mysterious was to punch him in the face?

Answer: yes.

So read this book for Ellie. Because she rocks.

Rating: 3 / 5 stars

I can't say that I was comfortable with the romance component of this book -- which was pretty much all of it. First, there was the weirdness of our Leading Lady (Dice) falling for the Brooding Love Interest (Sin) -- while he happens to be possessing the body of her cousin. Because, you know, he's a ghost and all. Interesting premise, but it mostly played out like this...

DICE: So I am irresistibly attracted to a dead boy who is inhabiting the body of my bodacious blond cousin....sweet! Now I get to indulge my latent homoerotic tendencies while pursing the Boy of My Dreams!

SIN: Um....exorcism NOW, please.

The other problematic aspect of this lovefest is the slight detail that Sin is firmly on the vengeful side of the haunting spectrum. His target? The entire town of Swoon, of course, since the good townsfolk turned all angry mob and lynched him back in the 1700s -whenevers. His only crime? Being a little too friendly with the ladyfolk...and having his newly-pregnant girlfriend end up dead.

Hmm...

This at first seemed to be heading into the troublesome loves-me-or-wants-to-kill-me territory of many teen romances in the supernatural realm -- but I can report at least that Sin never deliberately harms Dice. Pretty much everyone else in the town is fair game, though.

So of course Dice is torn, since she kinda-sorta loves this angry little poltergeist, but she also doesn't really want to see the town go up in flames. Mostly. And of course she has her own reasons for coming to Swoon -- being a native of NYC, a little Connecticut backwater wasn't a natural choice for a getaway.

I liked Dice's snark and almost-brutal honesty, and she handles the tango of Love versus Better Judgment pretty well, but I couldn't really get into the romance with Sin. Mostly because of the above issues, but also because he seemed pretty one-dimensional. I know, maybe I should give the revenge-obsessed ghost a break, but I just didn't see the appeal beyond a tragic backstory and (of course) a smokin' bod.

The supernatural elements had a neat little twist, and the way Sin manipulates peoples' desires to cause their ruin had potential, if not fully realized. And the ending was a nice surprise, which at least steered it out of cliche territory.

But overall, I wouldn't go rushing out for this one. Not a painful read, but not a terribly gripping one either.

Rating: 5 / 5 stars (plus ETERNAL LOVE)

First: why has EVERYONE not read this book? I am aghast and outraged and saddened and deeply shamed.

So this isn't going to be a review so much as a giant incoherent mess of READ THIS NOW PLEASE K?

Because Sunshine is pure awesome. It is the kind of awesome where you are consciously reading slower, dragging your feet so that it can all last longer and getting all panicky and weepy at the sight of dwindling pages to-be-read even as you cannot stop reading.

This is what a vampire-fantasy-YAish novel should be. I would advocate it as the cure for Twilight Madness, but I fear if hardcore Twilight fans read it it would blow their minds.

I hardly even know how to introduce this without babbling on forever -- our heroine is Sunshine, nicknamed not for a sunny disposition but rather her odd affinity for daylight. She is baker at Charlie's Coffeehouse, which is more of a giant family gathering than anything, what with her mother marrying Charlie and her two stepbrothers always stealing the cinnamon rolls and her tattooed-yet-mellow boyfriend Mel working as the cook. But this isn't some idealist fantasy of small town life -- baking is brutal work, getting up at ungodly hours and pounding dough into submission in a blazing kitchen and everyone running like mad and the customers streaming in and out and then oh god the tour buses...

So it's understandable that Sunshine needs a break once in a while. So she drives out to the lake one night -- and the vampires grab her. Dammit.

They give her a cranberry formal dress, and drag her to a grand deserted house in the moonlight, and chain her in the ballroom with another vampire....who is also chained to the wall. But within easy arm's reach.

What the hell?

This will take your assumptions about vampires, about supernatural romance, about pretty much everything in this 'genre' and flip them all sorts of ways. McKinley's worldbuilding is masterly and lush and detailed without turning to overload, and oh would you just read this already?

Please?

You need to read it for Sunshine, most of all -- a cranky, sarcastic, brilliant heroine who thinks of herself as a coward but has more backbone than Rambo in everything that matters. I love how she describes the world, this almost-rambling style that has so much fun with words without showing off, and she's so perceptive that we get to pick up on all the rich nuances of the people and the world around her, too. By the end of the book, I wasn't just in love with Sunshine -- I loved everyone she loved, I loved her work, I loved her entire life and how she was living it. Not even in the wish-I-had-it way (4 am wake up call, no thanks) but just how right it felt for her even in all the complicated mess of it.

Plus? I cannot even say how much I love the human-vampire interaction. FINALLY, we have a Girl-Meets-Otherworldly Creature of Darkness story where the heroine's first reaction isn't "Hot damn!" but "YEAEAACCHH!"
Because, you know, DEAD and EVIL and WRONG and WANTS TO EAT ME equals GET AWAY NOW, not 'Come and get it!'

And our vampire is fantastic too -- Con is not human and so he thinks differently about the world and he's been around for a long time, so we get a character who is truly alien -- not just some angst-ridden Byronic hero with a complexion issue.

And these characters grow through their interactions with each other and the awful, impossible choices they are making and that is also why you will fall in love. Because the Sunshine you meet in the beginning is not the same Sunshine at the end, and you've been with her the whole way and you're changed, too.

I need to stop. Please just read this book. Please. I'll even leave you with a link to an excerpt.

Have fun!

Rating: 4 / 5 stars

WARNING: Contains spoilers for Rampant, the first book in the Awesome Girls Who Are Also Unicorn Hunters series (my title).

Well, Diana Peterfreund certainly doesn't pull her punches. I picked up this book at a signing at ALA where I actually got to meet her (and be all incoherent in her face, yay!), and she invited me to share what I think.

And I'm still not quite sure.

Life continues to be suckily complicated for Astrid Llewelyn, reluctant unicorn hunter, as we find her still with no solution to the conundrum that unicorns are both a) vicious, man-eating monsters and b) magical, wild animals whose habitat has been decimated. Sure, her cousin Phillippa has become a champion of the unicorn-preservation movement, lobbying for endangered species status and a nature preserve and legislation against hunting and trafficking -- but meanwhile, unicorns are still out there killing people. Which means that Astrid has to go out there and kill the unicorns first.

And she's not sure how much longer she can stand it, especially since it's getting easier to sense the unicorns around her, their desperation and hunger and terror as they die...

Meanwhile, Cory is getting mysteriously sick and things are getting horrendously complicated with Giovanni and Gordian Pharmaceuticals menaces in the background and Astrid's chance of a normal life and medical school and her aspirations to help people seem to be slipping further away every day.

Geeze, Louise.

It is a tribute to Astrid as heroine that I felt compelled to stick with her throughout all this horrible mess, even as she screws up and gets lost and hurts people she cares about -- I just couldn't leave her. Because she was doing the best she could and being strong and smart and funny despite it all and let me tell you that is a kickass heroine.

It's awfully risky to have your main character go through the wringer, mostly because as readers we want to identify with our protagonist and no one likes having Life kick the snot out of them. But Life Happens, and props to Diana Peterfreund for developing this story in the way it should happen even if it means a rougher ride.

Lots of more excellent stuff in this book with the tangled mess of being a powerful, strong woman in a world that favors the 'wilting willow' stereotype; dealing with others' expectations while trying to forge your own identity (a note about Astrid's mother: HOLY HELL WOMAN, GET AWAY); struggling between responsibilities and your own desires (if you can even figure out what they are)....I could write a whole different loving review about this stuff right here. Not to mention the Endangered Species/Vicious Killers problem that the unicorns bring in, along with drug development and animal testing and woah....

But I should stop, because it boils down to this: get this book, and read it. It is a wild ride with our fantastic heroine and moments of pure magic, and believe me you don't want to miss out on that.

P.S. If you're wondering (as I did) about all the amazing unicorn-lore, Diana Peterfreund has an awesome page on her site full of Unicorn Research. LOVE.

Rating: 4 / 5 stars.

I've heard about Holly Black in terms of awesomeness before, but I've never really gotten into her modern faeire tale series with Valiant, Tithe, and Ironside. It isn't that I doubted the reviews, but each time I picked up one of her books they failed to really grab me...the timing just felt off.

And then I went to the ALA Annual Conference in DC, and saw the lines for White Cat. I decided enough was enough! No more lollygagging! I would enter the world of Holly Black and not look back!

Oh man.

I was so not prepared for the awesome. First off, White Cat is a con man's story, which means it's full of twists and tricks and glorious lies. Second, this is a world of magic, where certain people -- called workers -- have the ability to curse others by touch alone. There is a ban on 'working,' and the government is eager to have mandatory tests to determine who has this ability (which workers are understandably eager to avoid). So everybody wears gloves, just to be safe. Meanwhile, a lot of workers are drawn into a black market world by their talents, recruited - and someones forced - to work for crime syndicates with their mojo.

The main story centers around Cassel, who seems like a decent guy. Okay, so maybe his mother's in jail for scamming rich guys out of their fortunes (with a little help from her emotional 'working' magic), and his brothers might be sort of working the black market with their talents for luck and broken bones, respectively, but Cassel doesn't have the working talent, so he's not in the family business. Instead, he's going to boarding school, becoming an upright young man and keeping out of trouble...except for that little betting pool he's operating on the side. Oh, and that time he murdered a girl in cold blood.

Um, yeah.

It took me a little while to get into this story, but once I was hooked and the con games got going, well -- I finished this one in a day. And kept making these shocked noises that disturbed my fellow passengers on various transports, because by the end my head was spinning off. I mean, I sort of saw one twist, but then there was another, and then I did not see that coming and oh what? -- so I just had to sit back and enjoy the ride.

As a narrator, Cassel was hard to warm to, especially given his habit of envisioning killing his ex-girlfriend as a sort of litmus test for Evil. (Cassel: Hmm, does the thought of strangling this girl fill me with horror? ....Yes...okay, so, still not evil!). But it was through his interactions with his family -- his crazy, criminal, messed-up family, that I really started to sympathize with him. By three-quarters of the way through the story had really kicked into gear and I was with Cassel to the end, whatever that turned out to be.

I'll stop babbling to avoid spoilers, but I can say now with confidence: Holly Black's reputation of awesome is fully justified. And con games + mobsters + prickly, difficult characters + magic = win.

Rating: 4 out of 5 stars.

The second in Marr's dark faery tales, this novel centers around Leslie, a damaged girl who finds herself pursued by yet another faery monarch -- unlike the callous-but-shiny Summer King, however, Leslie has a more menacing suitor.

Well, not exactly suitor. You see, faeries regard mortals as instruments or playthings, to be used and then discarded -- so if you're expecting a story of True Love Converts Evil To Mushy Lovemuffin, think again.

Leslie has suffered horrific trauma at the hands of her own brother, who became mixed up in drug dealers and used her to pay off a debt. Now she is haunted by nightmares and a constant boiling panic; more than anything, she wants to be free of the terror -- she doesn't want to feel anything at all. When she sees the tattoo design in Rabbit's parlor, it calls to her, promising safety from all of her feelings, offering power and control.

She wants it. She's going to get it, etched deep into her skin, a part of her forever.

But she has no idea that Irial, the Dark Faery King, has very specific plans for that tattoo, and the girl who wears it. Plans that will likely lead to her destruction. But another faery, Niall, has suddenly taken notice of Leslie, and finds himself inexplicably driven to protect her - despite his own ugly past.

This was an enjoyable read, and quite surprising in many places -- several times, I thought it was going along one love-triangle route, but the characters kept surprising me. In part, I think this was because the romance element wasn't really driving the plot. Instead, this book was really about self-determination and how the choices we make shape not only our futures but ourselves. You can never go back to who you once were, and each of the characters make choices that are as much about themselves as they are about being - or not being - with others.

It was quite refreshing, actually, after all of the Edward-obsessed-Bella clones that have been running riot through the genre, more concerned about how the boy feels about her than her own sense of self (let alone self-preservation).

And there is a nice element of menace in this series, with ample evidence that these are the nasty, old-school faeries. If Twilight made vampires cuddly, Marr reminds us that her faeries are foreign, compelling, seductive, and above all dangerous.

So kudos! I'd be interested in picking up the third in this series, to follow this intriguing cast of characters some more.

Rating: 4 / 5 stars

Prince Aleksandar is on the run. The not-quite-legitimate son of Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his love-matched spouse Sophia, Aleksandar is a bright, curious young man - who is left bereft and fugitive after his parents are assassinated and the brewing political tensions explode into the Great War. Pursued by the Germans, who want to lock him up and remove him as a political threat to their march across Europe, Aleksandar must flee in the night in a Cyklop Stormwalker - you know, those walking war machines that every major royal family had in the backyard in those days.

Oh, wait...

Meanwhile, Deryn Sharp has entered the recruits of the British Air Service, and her anxieties are in order of: a) making sure no one figures out she's a girl b) beating the tar out of all the other recruits by showing the commanders her natural flying ability and c) not plunging to her death from the platform swinging under the tentacles of an increasingly twitchy Huxley ascender -- you know, those biologically-engineered military craft that are basically giant jellyfishes filled with helium (and are a favorite for scouting missions).

Hang on...

This is World War One through the looking glass, where the sides aren't just Allies and Central Powers but Clankers and Darwinists -- the split falling between those nations who put their faith in the machine versus those who have chosen to massage Nature into organically growing their weapons and tools.

This is Way Cool.

Westerfeld does world building like no other, and the chapters are studded with some truly beautiful Victorian-esque line drawings that really bring the universe to life - it's one thing to imagine the Leviathan, the massive British biological warship that's both giant flying whale and a great floating jungle ecosystem all at once -- but it's even better to see it on the page, rising majestically through the clouds.

I'm not generally a fan of 'war' novels, but the adventure action of this novel works for me because of Westerfeld's focus on his main characters, who are both unique and engaging. Stereotypes could have easily cropped up; it would have been simple to make Aleksandar into the Spoiled Royal Brat Tossed Among Commoners, but instead we get a thoughtful, responsible young man who's acutely aware of his own privileged upbringing as he struggles valiantly to adapt to a harsh reality. And Deryn is my second favorite Tough-As-Nails female narrator in recent YA lit -- first prize goes to Jacky Faber of L.A. Meyer's Bloody Jack series. Deryn may be out to prove something, but she doesn't let her swaggering get in the way of her sense, and she also sidesteps the tired Ice Queen road to emotional self-defense.

So, lots of action, dazzling illustrations, and a creative new twist on history that's definitely worth the price of admission (in my case, free - oh thank you, library books).

Rating: 3.75 / 5 stars

Charlotte, aka Charlie, is not particularly happy when we meet her. It's more than the stretchy top currently mangling her 'spoffs' -- it's her entire life situation. She's fourteen, a sports maniac (like everyone else at New Avalon Sports High) who just wants to get on the basketball team and maybe link with the new hot boy, Steffie -- but her stupid parking fairy keeps ruining her life.

Yes, a parking fairy. While her friend Rochelle gets a clothes fairy that makes everything look perfect on her (not to mention discounted 75%), and her mortal enemy Fiorenze has an 'every boy fancies me' fairy that turns all eligible males into drooling love zombies, Charlie has been saddled with the 'charm' of always being able to find a parking spot. Except that she doesn't have a car, and can't drive. Instead, she's constantly getting 'borrowed' by friends and family who are eager to make the newest concert or have a hassle-free supermarket run -- absolutely zero fun for Charlie herself.

So she's trying to ditch her fairy, any way she can. There's a number of theories as to how, ranging from the unsanitary (never bathing) to the unhealthy (fasting, odd diets). Charlie has been trying the slow-but-steady approach by walking everywhere and therefore starving her fairy of the chance to work its mojo. Of course, this makes her late to everything, which earns her constant demerits, which gets her kicked off sports teams, which makes her parents upset, which threatens her social life and therefore her growing relationship with Steffie...

If only her stupid fairy would leave, this would all be solved!

Larbalestier gets major points for originality. She has not only created a nifty world where invisible (and some say, nonexistent) fairies fiddle with the course of everyday life, but she's also set the novel in a city where fame is paramount and schools are specialized to the point of regimentation. At Charlie's school, failure to intake the proper amount and proportion of calories earns demerits, since proper nutrition is essential to one's sports performance. Classes are all sports-oriented, from the PR assignments about managing bad press after a drug enhancement scandal to the Statistics sessions calculating batting averages. There's a fine line between passion and obsession, and while Charlie seems happy with her life, Larbalestier explores some of the tensions of this performance-oriented society in interesting ways.

Within this vibrant world, there's lots of catchy slang terms to enjoy, and Charlie's voice is fresh and engaging throughout. A fun, light read, told in diary format a la Bridget Jones, but with far more substance and style than the typical 'chick lit for teens.'

Rating: 5/5 stars.

Ever have a book that you struggled to stop reading, because the decreasing width of pages on one side sent you into the panicked awareness that the story was going to end?

Fire was that book for me. I love Cashore's writing so much; I still haven't figured out how she manages to wrap such a rich world around her reader in very simple, elegant prose, but I fall under her spell every time I pick up her books. At least I was prepared this time, and took advantage of a snowy evening and a nice roaring fire to start savoring Fire -- I managed to stretch it out for half a week, with breaks for Real Life and necessary winter chores (like gathering more firewood).

I had read Graceling when it came out in hardcover, and I remember a similar experience of begrudging college classes and assignments for their piddling claims on my attention. Fire doesn't cover the same main characters and it's set in a different time and place, but there are some connecting threads that naturally tie the two novels together. Thematically, they are similar in that both feature strong female characters who possess frightening abilities -- in Graceling, Katsa is Graced with the ability to kill (pretty much anything, with or without weapons), and has been forced into service as the King's appointed thug. She rebels against being made into a royal murderer, even as she wonders if that is her true nature; is she doomed to be a walking weapon, a danger to all around her?

In Fire, the main character lives in a kingdom full of monsters -- creatures made unnatural by their stunning beauty and abilities -- and she herself is a hybrid, born of a human mother and a monster father. Fire is endowed with captivating beauty and the ability to manipulate others' minds, both traits inherited from her breathtakingly cruel and compelling father, Lord Cansrel.

Advisor to the King, Lord Cansrel urges his daughter to revel in her powers as he abuses his own; but when the royal household collapses in debauchery and ruin, the entire kingdom spirals towards civil war as rival lords begin making claims. From her homestead in the far north, Fire had assumed that she was irrelevant to these wider events, but she finds herself drawn into the war of the Dells along with her childhood friend, Archer. She not only has to decide her place in the coming battle, but also confront what using her powers will mean to herself and those she loves.

Cashore's characters are sheer works of art by themselves. I loved Katsa for her fierceness and her fears; Fire captured my heart in a different way, painfully alienated by the illusions of her appearance and damaged by her father's twisted love, yet somehow still struggling to protect and connect to others when it would be so simple and easy to shut herself away. No one is allowed to be simply a stock character in Cashore's world; they are all complex, sometimes infuriating, and sometimes awe-inspiring.

Really, a rough synopsis can't do this justice, so I'll have to ask you to trust me and read this book. It's far too nuanced and beautiful to slap labels on it, and trying to sum it up will miss the entire experience of reading it - the sheer delight of falling completely into Cashore's fascinating world.

And while you're at it, pick up Graceling as well, if you haven't read it yet. You can thank me later.

Rating: 4/5 stars.

Think you know about unicorns? Those adorable, dewey-eyed mythological beings with the shiny rainbow hooves and fluffy tails?

Think again.

Astrid Llewelyn knows the truth: unicorns are not cute. They are not cuddly. They are vicious killing machines with slavering fangs and razor-sharp horns, and they'd like nothing more than to impale you and rip your flesh from your bones. Or so Astrid's mother has always taught her; along with her family lineage, of course -- as a descendant of Alexander the Great, Astrid is part of a long line of female unicorn hunters. However, she only retains this birthright (and the immunity to unicorn venom that it includes) so long as she remains a virgin.

So of course we must begin with some Macking in the Backyard with a Boy, And The Consequences. Astrid has long cultivated a tolerant dismissal of her mother's unique brand of crazy (researching Killer Unicorns is hardly a sane career choice), so she's a bit dismayed when a unicorn charges out of the woods and gores her boyfriend.

I promise not to reveal more. But it appears that the unicorns are back, and Astrid is shipped to Italy to join the ancient order of unicorn hunters, who are re-establishing themselves in their ancient abbey with news of the Resurgence.

A smart, fun twist on the typical mythology with a great cast of teen girls-turned-warriors (who each deal with their Chosen-ness in different ways). The book moved along nicely, with bloody battles relieved by Astrid's developing relationship with Giovanni (The New Boy Interest, but with Actual Depth), along with some really pertinent questions about feminism and morality -- in the modern world, how do you justify cloistering a bunch of young girls and training them to kill? What rights does one have as a huntress? And how do ideals of 'purity' and other constraints interact with sexual independence?

I love that Peterfreud's characters debate these points in the story, in very intelligent ways -- these young women are both personally and socially self-aware in a refreshing way (instead of the more typical 'self-absorbed teen' model). Astrid is an aspiring doctor; the ancient order of unicorn hunters developed a Remedy that could cure all disease, one that has murky links with the unicorns themselves. How far should she go to unlock this secret? Does her work as hunter make her into a kind of poacher, or even murderer?

Astrid's voice is fresh and compelling, and the cloisters are an intriguing backdrop for her adventures, as she bonds with and/or alienates the other girls in the huntress group. An engaging read along the lines of Graceling, with a heroine you can cheer for as you see her battle for her own definition and mission in the world -- girlpower without the preaching, this is really best summed up in the following equation:

Killer Unicorns + Kickass Girls = Total Awesome.

Rating: 4/5 stars.

I'll admit it: I didn't want to like this book. It had a lot to do with the reviews -- one described it as a modern-day, slightly twisted Catcher in the Rye, which makes my list of 'Classic Books that I Hate With a Mixture of Defiance and Guilt' (you all have these lists, right?). Plus, all of the reviews were just glowing about this book that was:

• 1/3 part fantasy-fest, with talking lawn gnomes/ancient Vikings in disguise, a hypochondriac dwarf, a punk-rock angel with spray-painted wings and giant, seven-foot tall fire demons;
  
• 1/3 part philosophical meditation on the meaning of life, with a dying protagonist struggling to understand an impossibly random universe;
  
• 1/3 part head-trip crazyfest, since our hero is actually dying of Mad Cow disease and has been entrusted with a mission/road trip to save the universe (our universe, at least). Oh, and find a mysterious Dr. X, a time-traveling figure who can supposedly cure him.

Kind of a lot to live up to.

So I approached with a hefty dose of skepticism and the tiniest nigglings of hope. And in the beginning, I Doth Doubteth Much. Cameron isn't an easy guy to like -- he's made it his mission to be pretty much invisible, coasting through high school and life with a minimum of fuss and a maximum of sarcasm. He's smart but apathetic, self-aware enough to be interesting but still grating -- he typecasts everyone, including himself (father = control freak; sister = perfectionist; mother = 'driftwood,' just like him). I could see the Holden comparison, and I wasn't charmed.

But then, once his life is ground up and mashed with the bovine death-sentence prognosis and the hallucinations and the sudden Quest to Save Everyone, and he stumbles off on the Road Trip of Cracktastic Events, something happened that pulled me in, despite myself -- Cameron begins to care.

And gosh darn it, I started to care with him. Curse you, Libba Bray.

This book isn't especially subtle -- some of the messages are pretty heavy-handed, with encounters that just scream 'metaphor' and 'allegory' and all that symbolic goodness. Plus, there are tons of references to the granddaddy of Crazy Random Journey with Deeper Societal/Philosophical Meanings, Don Quixote, the assigned book in Cameron's Spanglish class. It's also a pretty crowded work; Libba Bray is pulling on a lot of strings here, and if things feel a little disjointed or contrived, it's more impressive that it doesn't all fall apart. But I have to admit she's nailed some good satire on teen media/our media society, and hit the good ole points of identity, fate, and choice that gnaw on all of our toes at night.

And she's got a good sense of humor. Her writing style still doesn't thrill me, for some reason -- the action always seems a little rushed, and the description is too short-hand for my taste (but I'm a sucker for lush - maybe overly lush - prose). The most important thing is, despite myself, from being consciously set against it, I fell in like with this story. Not love, but like.

And for a modern-day, Holden Caulfield-meets-Geek-Fantasy-Crazyfest, that isn't half bad.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Tiffany isn't sure that she has the proper name for a witch, but there's no helping it -- she is determined to be one, despite all those stupid fairy tales with the old crone who gets shoved into ovens or tossed into lakes or set on fire (and no one really thinks about whether this actually helps matters). It probably has something to do with her grandmother, or the way the Achings have always been linked to the Chalklands, but when monstrous things start showing up on the wold, Tiffany knows she has to put a stop to it.

The only problem is, no one's actually taught her how to be a real witch. So Tiffany has to improvise with frying pans and bits of string instead of the traditional kit of cauldron, broomstick, and pointy hat. And she has to be creative in other ways, too -- after all, using one's little brother as monster-bait may not be strictly on the level in a moral sense, but if it gets the job done...

Then Tiffany discovers that help is available, only not in the form she expects. She meets the Nac Mac Feegle, a fierce tribe of blue-tattooed, red-haired warriors, who also happen to be about six inches high. And tend to be compulsive thieves. Which at least explains about the missing eggs and the disappearing sheep.

The Nac Mac Feegles seem to know what's going on, and if Tiffany could get them to stop drinking and fighting long enough to explain, she might be able to sort it all out -- except then some sort of evil Queen kidnaps her little brother, and she is suddenly very short on time...

I adore Terry Pratchett. I love his wry sense of humor and his sly little jokes, and the way he takes the expected and twists it into something fresh -- and especially the obvious joy that he takes in words themselves, their flavors and possibilities. Tiffany is a practical, stubborn nine-year-old girl whose initial self-assurance is really just a bit of common sense with a hefty dollop of pigheadedness and a dash of selfishness - the perfect traits for a witch, who needs to know far more about thinking and watching and understanding how people work than flashy incantations or curses.

This book is geared towards a younger audience, but it doesn't get overly cutesy or simplistic, and the characters are definitely complex enough to care about. The pacing is lively and the plot flows well, and things are wrapped up in a satisfying fashion that leaves plenty of room for more adventures. Maybe not as beloved as the Night Watch exploits, but Tiffany Aching's Chalklands are well worth revisiting.

Rating: 4/5 stars

An absorbing adventure novel in the best sense, this book deftly weaves Chinese folktales and legends into a fascinating backdrop for a strong heroine. In her story, Pon acknowledges but doesn't exaggerate the 'traditional' draconian social codes for women, and she also avoids trying to awkwardly shove a 'modern' tale into the cultural framework. For Ai Ling, life as a young woman isn't fair -- the only thing worse than being given away in an arranged marriage is being refused by her suitors and causing her parents to lose face. She is caught in an impossible situation, longing for a love match like her parents' but knowing that, with her father's past disgrace, she would be lucky to secure any young man of decent reputation and income.

When Ai Ling's father is called to court and does not return, his disappearance puts his wife and daughter in dire straits, and Ai Ling sets alone out to find him. She soon discovers that she faces worse dangers than the customary threats to a lone woman traveler; dark spirits seem to be hunting her, creatures that seem to come straight from the pages of her father's forbidden text, The Book of the Dead. Further, Ai Ling herself seems to be changing -- she is caught up in odd trances where she seems to hear other people's thoughts, as if her spirit is sailing out of her body. Then there's the matter of the jade pendant her father gave her, a seemingly innocuous stone that begins to glow when the demons threaten...

When Ai Ling meets Chen Yong, a young man with half-foreign heritage, she wonders if their destinies are somehow intertwined. He is searching for his own father, and Ai Ling finds him both compelling and troubling with his strange, green-tinged eyes -- can she trust him with her quest?

Well-written and complex without being overly involved; Pon crafts a plot that's naturally integrated into the cultural background of ancient China. What I love most about this book is how the setting and characters are presented so...naturally (for lack of a better term). There isn't that weird, self-conscious foreignization/domestication dance that usually happens when presenting Chinese culture to an 'American' audience, because Pon focuses on the characters and the world as part of their story. Readers who don't know anything about China won't feel shut out, and I loved discovering creatures and legends I'd never heard of before.

Plus, I got to root for a female heroine who is both strong and yet also part of her own society -- she's not completely custom-bound, but she dearly loves and respects her parents to the point of making sacrifices. The supporting characters were also nicely drawn and the story was fantastical and even romantic without being overly sentimental...if that makes any sense. Overall, an excellent read with an infusion of rich mythology (and some mouth-watering descriptions of food. Yum!).

Rating: 1.5/5 stars

This review will be fairly short, because I was disappointed in this book and don't feel like spending much time on it. The premise seemed promising: a young girl, displaced and resentful after her family moves from their farmhouse to an anonymous city suburb, discovers that there's someone living behind the walls -- someone small, but with a big attitude. The two unlikely friends -- Goody Two-Shoes T.J. and the punk-rock 'Little' (the term for the diminutive not-fairy people) Elizabeth find common ground in their frustrations and confused longings. Both girls learn from each other as well; T.J. is in awe of Elizabeth's fierce independence and adventurousness, while the rebel Little discovers that some of T.J.'s cautious planning is necessary in a world that's much larger and more dangerous than she realized.

I wanted to like this book -- I remembered reading The Blue Girl by de Lint and enjoying it quite a bit -- but Little (Grrl) Lost was just...boring. Not even in that nothing really happens, plot-wise, but the characters themselves are all horribly flat and dull. T.J. isn't just a Goody Two-Shoes -- she isn't interesting at all, even when she starts 'rebelling' and 'finding herself.' All of the characters are more or less one-dimensional, and Elizabeth's tough girl act is so transparent it's not even worth the effort. No one seems capable of emotional complexity or interest; a character is either happy or sad or angry and that's it -- no mixed feelings, contradictions, denial, etc -- and then they go ahead and tell other characters about their feelings and motivations like they're in a casting call or something. It's all so mundane and stereotypical and irritating, like listening to someone describe their dream about being back in high school and forgetting their locker combination -- and then expecting you to care about this for who knows what reason. It broke my heart, because how can you make a book with fairies and magical creatures this boring? How?

On the one hand, I can appreciate what de Lint was doing in creating a teenaged character who isn't totally angsty and dark, living in a broken home with a distant father and a neurotic mother and a brother who does drugs/joins a gang/plays gory video games all day. T.J.'s family is obviously grounded and loving and close, and even Elizabeth comes to realize that her parents aren't completely illogical pod people -- but there's a spectrum for all this, and de Lint avoids the Cyclonic Trauma Zone of Teenagedom by shoving everything into Stagnant Pond Land.

Supposedly the characters develop and grow and find new places in the world. I mostly stopped paying attention about halfway through -- honestly, Elizabeth could've gotten eaten by a cat and T.J. run over by a bus without causing a blip on my emotional radar. At least that might have been more interesting.