Author: Chelsea (Page 8 of 111)

A Far Wilder Magic by Allison Saft

February 21, 2022 / Chelsea / 0 Comments

A Far Wilder Magic by Allison Saft
Purchase on: Amazon, iBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:
When Margaret Welty spots the legendary hala, the last living mythical creature, she knows the Halfmoon Hunt will soon follow. Whoever is able to kill the hala will earn fame and riches, and unlock an ancient magical secret. If Margaret wins the hunt, it may finally bring her mother home. While Margaret is the best sharpshooter in town, only teams of two can register, and she needs an alchemist.

Weston Winters isn’t an alchemist--yet. Fired from every apprenticeship he's landed, his last chance hinges on Master Welty taking him in. But when Wes arrives at Welty Manor, he finds only Margaret and her bloodhound Trouble. Margaret begrudgingly allows him to stay, but on one condition: he must join the hunt with her.

Although they make an unlikely team, Wes is in awe of the girl who has endured alone on the outskirts of a town that doesn’t want her, in this creaking house of ghosts and sorrow. And even though Wes disrupts every aspect of her life, Margaret is drawn to him. He, too, knows what it's like to be an outsider. As the hunt looms closer and tensions rise, Margaret and Wes uncover dark magic that could be the key to winning the hunt - if they survive that long.

In A Far Wilder Magic, Allison Saft has written an achingly tender love story set against a deadly hunt in an atmospheric, rich fantasy world that will sweep you away.

*ARC PROVIDED BY PUBLISHER IN EXCHANGE FOR AN HONEST REVIEW*

The more dangerous the monster, the more glorious the hero who slays it.

Where do I even begin this review? I literally, from the moment I started, fell in love. There are just some books, ya know, that feel right when you start them, like they were made for you at this exact moment in your life–this is one of them. And from that final page, all I’ve thought about-day and night-is getting to this review. So many thoughts. So many emotions. So much gratitude. I request arcs, sure, but when I sent out my request with this one, my heart went with it.

“Besides, dreams don’t always have to be practical. That’s why they’re dreams. And now ours live and die together.”
“Together.” It’s such a foreign concept.
He grins at her. “It’s you and me against the world, Margaret.”

It began with the cover-that beautiful, unique cover-I saw it and just had to know more. Upon further inspection, I just knew it was a book I was going to devour, to love, to cherish-it did not, at any juncture, disappoint. My heart leapt into my throat the minute I saw it in my inbox and I plotted for days to make time for it. I’m a simple girl-give me a steady, slow-build fantasy with a slow-burn romance…I’m sold.

She pauses, drawing in a shaky breath when her throat begins to burn. She will not cry—not in front of him. “I’m asking you again, Mr. Winters. I won’t ask again after this. Please stay. There’s no one else I can ask.”
“God,” he says softly. “Please don’t look at me like that.”

I don’t ask for much, so when a book delivers just that-my simple tastes-it better be well-written and deliver in spades. Don’t worry, it did its job splendidly. And here I am, days after finishing and DYING to write this review, and I am, of course, sick [again] and not saying things how I had planned on saying them due to my foggy mind-I apologize to this beautiful, amazing, mesmerizing book, because it deserves so much better, but I also cannot wait another moment to spill my fresh thoughts onto the page, so bear with me.

The day he met her, streaked in dirt and despising him, he never imagined she could do this to him. How could Margaret ever think he’d lose himself to alchemy when he has already hopelessly lost himself to her?

Maggie and Wes were two characters that made my heart soar simply because they were written into existence. The flip and play on grumpy/sunshine (can I call Wes sunshine? I don’t know. And can I call Maggie Grumpy? No…she’s just steadfast, serious, and unsure, but…) where the female wasn’t bubbles and sunshine was refreshing.

Girls like her don’t get to dream. Girls like her get to survive. Most days, that’s enough. Today, she doesn’t think it is.

And I really enjoyed Wes being the goofy, playing-at-being-light-hearted while undoubtedly tortured underneath hero.

Misfortune has hardened them both. It’s roughened her, but it’s polished him to a sheen. If he lets the world believe he is all surface, then there is nothing to expose. Beneath her implacable stare, however, he is utterly naked.

It was nice to see that, while he put up a good front, he had inner demons, too. Wes felt he couldn’t show them, so it made his character far more complex than what the heroine could see.

He’s survived this long by letting everyone believe he’s selfish and shallow. It’s better that way. No one knows how to hurt you if you always play the fool. No one can truly be disappointed in you if they don’t expect any better.

The depth of these two characters pulled at my heartstrings so brutally, sneaking slowly into my bloodstream and pumping into my heart resolutely and without invitation. They were embedded in my DNA far before I even realized it, and that is truly the sum of my favorite kinds of stories. The stories where nothing big is happening at all, just small moments building up into a storm of wants, needs, and desires, of heart and soul being woven into every page, fracturing your heart in tiny fissures until you are a part of the book as much as it is a part of you. You live and die as these characters breathe and fight and mourn for one another-you are them and they are you, and there is nothing you can do about it but hope it doesn’t end in heartbreak. Dramatic, yes, but no less true.

Love is not the sharp-edged thing she’s always believed it to be. It’s not like the sea, liable to slip through her fingers if she holds on too tight. It’s not a currency, something to be earned or denied or bartered for. Love can be steadfast. It can be certain and safe, or as wild as an open flame. It’s a slice of buttered bread at a dinner table. It’s a grudge born of worry. It’s broken skin pulled over swelling knuckles.
It’s not enough anymore to do this for Evelyn. Maybe it’s for Wes, too.

I can’t even begin to explain how hard it is for me to connect to a book-truly connect-to the point of not caring what happens so much as the ride is worth the while. Does that make sense? Maybe not every moment plays out as you’d hope (though, I could argue that almost everything I could possibly wish for comes to fruition), but every moment stays with you, builds up to something, makes you feel. At a certain point I realized I didn’t even know what the hunt was, just that I was ecstatic it was there and we were living in it.

As she watches him walk away, the answering squeeze of her heart is as distressing as it is painfully familiar. How many times will she watch someone leave this place and never look back, while she is left here like a ghost to haunt it?

I think that is partially what scares me about my precious book-that maybe others, like me, won’t understand that this isn’t a days long hunt (where did I even get this from? I was straight up imagining a Hunger Games situation??) even though, honestly, I should have known better. Most of this book is literally a crescendo of happenings leading up to the hunt-the hunt does not last long, and I only say this in forewarning for those who might not know and might expect more. If you want MORE hunt, LESS build-up/preparing/small town hatred and bias, this simply is not for you. Me? I’d say my rating is fairly on the nose, but my heart is not so obvious.

If she must be seen tonight, she will be incandescent.

I like both scenarios, if it’s not clear in literally every other fantasy review known to man I’ve written or in the earlier part of this review-I both LOVE books where we have more buildup, characterization, less action based but a wonderful payoff of heart and depth in the end, and books that are more about getting deeper into the grit of the moment that the book was aptly named for. I like both. But there is, now that I am a more seasoned reader and more self aware as to what works for me, a common key that makes or breaks a story for me: character depth and character interactions.

As hours became days became weeks, she realized that if her mind could protect her from remembering Evelyn’s failed experiment, it could protect her from this pain, too. She could learn how to make the sting of abandonment fade into numbness. She could learn to detach until it felt like she wasn’t real at all.

That’s right-you can have the most romantic and perilous beast of a book but it doesn’t mean squat to me if you haven’t built up a relationship between our main characters or fleshed out their thoughts, desires, and inner selves thus making them into actual relatable people. I may be picky…but I think anyone who doesn’t value character development can’t possibly have lasting love for a book or series. If your love for the main characters fizzles out, what do you even remember about said book or series? How can any tension or high action moments make your heart palpitate to the point you can’t breathe if characters’ actions and justifications weren’t built on what all you knew the characters struggled through and grew from to get to that point? Just my opinion, though. There is no lack for character love here, at least on my part.

Today, one of them could die. There’s nothing for them to tell each other that they don’t already know. He sees it in her eyes. He’s tasted it on her lips. She writes it on his skin every time she touches him. But in all his mother’s legends, there is binding power in words, and Wes doesn’t want to die without his soul entwined with hers.

And, to really-truly-end it with a final thought, this novel also heavily touches base on religion as a means for being outcasts of society. While I may not have wholly grasped every concept, I loved the way the author made me connect to the characters because they were outsiders. That may be the loosest way we were meant to connect, but I fell hard for our two outcasts, their struggles, the way they felt a kinship to one another and never judged the other for who they were or where they came from. Cast aside and bullied, this made for some very amazing scenes that became favorite moments.

This is nothing more than they’ve already exchanged. A sacrifice for a sacrifice, a dream for a dream. Their bargain is its own kind of alchemy.

I still feel so honored to have received this novel early from the publisher and count my blessings that one of my most anticipated releases became a quick instant favorite. I don’t know that this will be for everyone, my closest friends included, but it was for me, and that’s really all that matters. The depth, the pusle-pounding, the slow-burn of so many things (romance notwithstanding), and the creepy vibes the hala emitted…I’d say this book ticked all my favorite boxes. I hope that so many more people agree with me, because I can’t wait to gush about it over and over as people around me discover this wonderful gift of a book.

I’ve recently decided to start a friend scale for my closest friends (WHOSE READING PREFERENCES I KNOW INSIDE AND OUT) on if they’d enjoy it since they almost always ask if I think they’d like a book. It’s really just for fun because, honestly, I hook them with sending quotes and fangirling with my favorite passages and that’s generally how they decide, but either way, here it is.

FRIEND SCALE:

Arielle- You might find a lot of enjoyment, but I didn’t envision you reading it at any point
Jen- No
Cassie- Not likely
Anna- Yes! I really do think you will enjoy it! You’ll have your qualms, but, well. Oh well.

****

Slow-burning, torturous, intoxicating-I am irrevocably in love with this book.

I couldn’t be more obsessed if I tried. Any book that I read through a migraine (from literally beginning to end) and have to read late at night with my eyes barely open and I STILL love and cherish it-there’s something to be said about that. I don’t think it’ll be for everyone, but it was perfect for me. I am so grateful to the publisher for this arc and I cannot wait to read it again.

RTC SOON

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BOOK REVIEW: The Wolf and the Woodsman by Ava Reid

February 16, 2022 / Chelsea / 0 Comments

The Wolf and the Woodsman by Ava Reid
Purchase on: Amazon, iBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:
In her forest-veiled pagan village, Évike is the only woman without power, making her an outcast clearly abandoned by the gods. The villagers blame her corrupted bloodline—her father was a Yehuli man, one of the much-loathed servants of the fanatical king. When soldiers arrive from the Holy Order of Woodsmen to claim a pagan girl for the king’s blood sacrifice, Évike is betrayed by her fellow villagers and surrendered.

But when monsters attack the Woodsmen and their captive en route, slaughtering everyone but Évike and the cold, one-eyed captain, they have no choice but to rely on each other. Except he’s no ordinary Woodsman—he’s the disgraced prince, Gáspár Bárány, whose father needs pagan magic to consolidate his power. Gáspár fears that his cruelly zealous brother plans to seize the throne and instigate a violent reign that would damn the pagans and the Yehuli alike. As the son of a reviled foreign queen, Gáspár understands what it’s like to be an outcast, and he and Évike make a tenuous pact to stop his brother.

As their mission takes them from the bitter northern tundra to the smog-choked capital, their mutual loathing slowly turns to affection, bound by a shared history of alienation and oppression. However, trust can easily turn to betrayal, and as Évike reconnects with her estranged father and discovers her own hidden magic, she and Gáspár need to decide whose side they’re on, and what they’re willing to give up for a nation that never cared for them at all.

In the vein of Naomi Novik’s New York Times bestseller Spinning Silver and Katherine Arden’s national bestseller The Bear and the Nightingale, this unforgettable debut— inspired by Hungarian history and Jewish mythology—follows a young pagan woman with hidden powers and a one-eyed captain of the Woodsmen as they form an unlikely alliance to thwart a tyrant.

My hand curls around the hilt of my knife. “Would you let me destroy you, then?”
“It would be just as well,” Gáspár says miserably. “I should be struck dead, for wanting you the way I do.”

It should come as no surprise to anyone that I get excited when a close friend can’t recommend a book enough. We share quotes, pre-swoon, and just altogether talk about what might work or not work going forward, for me. These moments are when I get the most eager to try something new and step out of my narrow-minded little box, the moments when I want to take risks and find new favorites since I haven’t been in the reading game near as much in the last four years. Sometimes it pays off, and other times it falls flat. But here, with this book, it was one of the shakiest successes I’ve come around to in a while.

That’s not to say it wasn’t excellent-that’s the point. It was excellent. It was so excellent it physically hurt me to not five star it. But, with all the things, there is balance. I loved so many moments, but the others, the parts that pained my soul, they dragged me down to a darker place that is much harder to drag myself out of. And those are the moments that halted my enjoyment, that strangled my breathing not in the way I love, like with a slow burn romance coming to fruition, but with deep agonizing sadness that I couldn’t see past. Which is just so silly… but triggers are triggers for a reason, even if mine are very far different from others.

A bear is an enemy I can more easily understand, and fear or loathe accordingly. Even snoring, I can see all its teeth.

But again-balance. This was such a blatant display of walking the tightrope for me it’s almost comical. Imagine me, in my head, ‘Omg, they are going to kiss,’ ‘Oh he lOoOoOvEs HERRRR,’ ‘Oh, he will do anything for her’, then, slowly, ‘OMG, the kids. A child’s remnants. Their hair. A doll. Them weeping at their parents’ feet before certain death’ and so on and so forth and what have you, switching back and forth between utter revulsion and perverse delight. It’s a sick game to play, but I couldn’t be happier I tried.

If you don’t risk, you won’t get reward. This romance, this world-it was amazing. I don’t always comment on the world-building, but here we see it done so well, never leaving room for questions and always knowing right where someone or something is meant to be. And, honestly, I really enjoyed each and every character central to the story-good, bad, and ugly. They were made for a specific purpose, to further the plot, and they fit so seamlessly that I can’t imagine the story without them (not the prairie part as much, though-that really realllyy triggered me). Well…I mean…without the king or Nandor there would certainly be less gore, sadness, and violence. And without the evil men or women, there wouldn’t be carnage of families, children, or animals but…I mean, you get it.

All I’m saying is: Gaspar wouldn’t be a tortured soul, Evike wouldn’t be quite so quick to be vicious or petty, and there wouldn’t be room for someone to grow-say, an old enemy? The way the characters flesh out and grow into something more is what I love most about slow-burn and this type of adventure. Back in the day I LOATHED traveling stories (Ask Anna, it’s true). I avoided them AT ALL COSTS. But now, I have noticed that MANY of my favorites are traveling stories, much because they allow for that slow-burn to grow, to fester as the hero and heroine trudge through grueling elements and fight off many foes and sacrifice themselves over and over in their quest to get where they need to be.

I stare at the black outline of his body, light pooling on each crease in his dolman. I should only be thinking about his ax and his horrible missing eye. But instead I am wondering why he cares so much for his oath and so little for his crown. Why he seems to suggest that it’s easier to be a Woodsman than a prince. I curl onto one of the cowhides on the other side of the tent, closer to the fire, and sleep claims me before I can begin to wonder why I am thinking of him so much at all.

Look, I never said I was sane, okay? But who WANTS to be sane when such books as this exist. You have to be a little coocoo to like all the things that happen in fantasy, and I’m right there alongside everyone who does, because I couldn’t imagine my life without it. When I was younger I craved those moments where the hero would have to do something crazy to save the heroine or when horrible things happened and they had to be righted. I never KNEW that I was that way, not until I found Goodreads, and not until I started talking to other people who, like me, liked books that weren’t what people would expect you to like. No one would ever have looked at quiet, mousy me and said, ‘Yeah, she would LOVE this book because the main character is fighting the villain and is on the brink of death and the hero risks it all to save her and he, too, almost perishes. Yeah, she would LOVE that.’ So, I think what I’m saying is this: TWATW was crazy. Very much so. But I loved it, evil and all. Well. Maybe not the evil-but I loved what it made my darling hero do.

“You’ve killed any part of me that was a devout and loyal Woodsman,” he says. There is pain threaded through his voice; I imagine the Prinkepatrios fading from his mind, like a moon paring away in the black sky. His hand shifts from my breast, closing into a fist over my heart. “This is all that’s left now.”

And here we are- the slow-burn romance that owns my soul. There are no books like this. They are IMPOSSIBLE to find. I mean, they are out there…but when I crave them, when I NEED them, they elude me. And this was just the best possible surprise, picking this up and seeing how guarded Gaspar was. The BEST romances stem from those where the main characters are only fooling themselves, because that pivotal, heated, heart-wrenching moment when the two clash into each other due to ‘unrequited’ longing and days or weeks or months of pining secretly and fighting yourself or doubting what they mean to you…THOSE are the moments I LIVE AND BREAHTE AND DIE FOR, because that payoff is unreal. And this book…man. The stubbornness. It rules.

Perhaps I wanted to kiss him to prove how little I cared for my people, for my mother’s braid in my pocket, her life ended by some Woodsman at the behest of his father. Perhaps I wanted to forget that between here and Király Szek I am not pagan, not Yehuli, only some stupid girl with her hand in both pockets, finding comfort in cold, dead things. Maybe I wanted his touch to erase me.
Or perhaps I wanted the opposite: maybe I wanted his kiss to give me shape, to see how my body transfigured under his hands.

And lastly-Evike. Look, I LOVE Gaspar-he is my favorite character and he is wounded and tortured and had his own variation of a terrible life. WE KNOW THIS. He would do ANYTHING for Evike, and his whispered words and vehement actions that speak louder than what he tries to portray…he is a man I will never forget, and he is the sole reason I pushed past the sad or religious or otherwise horrendous moments, because he is a hero that is few and far between and his self-sacrificing soul will forever live in my heart. BUT-I DIGRESS-Evike. I kind of dogged her a little, off and on…and I couldn’t really pinpoint why. Then, it was like a wrecking ball-Evike is me.

I don’t know who I have been with him these past weeks, indulging every perverse instinct, killing fat, slumbering rabbits and openly professing to loathe my own people. My most spiteful self, and perhaps my truest.

The stubbornness. The repetitive downplaying of what I mean to someone. The petty barbs when someone hurts me. The way she views the world, skewed, but with vigor. The not letting a question go. The blatant disregard for her own safety just to help someone she loves, but also to not let go of a man she desires. I…can’t say I loved her-I didn’t. But I valued her. I identified with her. And I FELT her. And isn’t that the kicker, when we see ourselves in a character we don’t like? Guess I need to start looking in the mirror more, huh?

I don’t know when I have become something so burdened by other people’s hopes and loyalties and lives. It almost makes me weep to think of it, how many people will die or be thrown out if I choose wrong. My head bows over my bent knees, pain still crawling up my arm like a glut of blackflies.

So, with all that being said, I truly adored this book. Was it tough for my gooey soft center? Yes. Was it difficult at times to swallow? Yes. But, in the end, there was so much that took my breath away (positively) that I know in my heart this was an epic, unforgettable read. And that goes for 90% of the good, 10% for the bad. Meeting Gaspar and seeing his undying sense of good and his unwavering love and loyalty for Evike, even as he slowly fell for her despite his best efforts, was a balm to my soul, a song to my heart-and I will ALWAYS remember those moments and revisit them when I need to see what true, undying love looks like. It’s hard to remember that exists sometimes in this crazy world, so I can’t help but cherish these wonderfully addictive fantasy love stories.

****

This book was my greatest fear all wrapped up into one gory, monstrous, wondrous package. I want so terribly to give this a five…and perhaps, as I write my review in a moment, it will sway that way. But, right now the children, the animals, the religion…it keeps me from being able to click that fifth star, no matter how beautifully written.

It had the romance I pine, ache, and search for with each new book I try. It had the battles and the peril and the high stakes I lose sleep over. But, again, my triggers have a horrible habit of ruining my favorite type of stories. So I think that begs the question on my part…why are all my favorite books the ones that have horrible things that happen to innocent beings and people.

Well. I’ll sum it up. The romances are unparalleled. The action and peril are done the best here. So. A stalemate it is…because even though these books rip and tear at my soul, it swings both ways, the pendulum righting and wronging itself with each new page. And if I have to lose what I love to keep all the triggers away, it’s just not worth it.

So. A 4 it is…even though the beautiful enemies to lovers romance is a 100.

RTC

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House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1) by Sarah J. Maas

February 15, 2022 / Chelsea / 0 Comments

House of Earth and Blood (Crescent City #1)
by Sarah J. Maas
Purchase on: Amazon, iBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:
#1 New York Times bestselling author Sarah J. Maas launches her brand-new CRESCENT CITY series with House of Earth and Blood: the story of half-Fae and half-human Bryce Quinlan as she seeks revenge in a contemporary fantasy world of magic, danger, and searing romance.

Half-Fae, half-human Bryce Quinlan loves her life. By day, she works for an antiquities dealer, selling barely legal magical artifacts, and by night, she parties with her friends, savoring every pleasure Lunathion—otherwise known as Crescent City— has to offer. But it all comes crumbling down when a ruthless murder shakes the very foundations of the city—and Bryce’s world.

Two years later, her job has become a dead end, and she now seeks only blissful oblivion in the city’s most notorious nightclubs. But when the murderer attacks again, Bryce finds herself dragged into the investigation and paired with an infamous Fallen angel whose own brutal past haunts his every step.

Hunt Athalar, personal assassin for the Archangels, wants nothing to do with Bryce Quinlan, despite being ordered to protect her. She stands for everything he once rebelled against and seems more interested in partying than solving the murder, no matter how close to home it might hit. But Hunt soon realizes there’s far more to Bryce than meets the eye—and that he’s going to have to find a way to work with her if they want to solve this case.

As Bryce and Hunt race to untangle the mystery, they have no way of knowing the threads they tug ripple through the underbelly of the city, across warring continents, and down to the darkest levels of Hel, where things that have been sleeping for millennia are beginning to stir…

With unforgettable characters and page-turning suspense, this richly inventive new fantasy series by #1 New York Times bestselling author Sarah J. Maas delves into the heartache of loss, the price of freedom—and the power of love.

Lehabah drifted to her little couch. “Athie would talk to me about it.”
“Athie is a slave with little left to lose.”
“Don’t say such things, BB,” Lehabah hissed. “There is always something left to lose.”

I’ll admit it: I’m a total snob when it comes to Sarah J. Maas. That’s not to say I haven’t tried many times to immerse myself into her work. Newsflash: I have. It’s just hard for me, as the type of reader I am-deep down in my soul-to follow a lead who goes through not one, not two, but multiple romantic inquisitions. I’m sorry if some find this offensive (I don’t care, though), but not everyone enjoys getting their heart invested and then abruptly being flung onto a different flame where we are supposed to, again, invest our heart. Then…sometimes…have it torn out again.

I just am not that person, and I can’t/won’t/never will be. I like to have 1-2 love interests, up front (if it’s going to be a triangle), so all the cards are on the table for me to observe and to decide, on my own, who I like and who I want to root for. All these curveballs Maas throws? They just aren’t. My. Style.

Saying all this, of course, indicates I keep trying. The truth is, I swore this author off after the whole Tamlin/Rhys scenario. And have you SEEN the bloodshed over ships for this fandom? No thanks. I get my heart too into it, I become too Ride or Die, and my feelings get hurt, because people can say the meanest things… and they sting. Why bother? Well. Arielle seems to bother. Arielle bothered me a whole Hell of a lot.

Alas, here we are. My heart, as you can see, is wholly invested (again), two copies are on the way-one a special edition-andddd….I have a lot of trust, but, also, people are already worried if she’ll throw another male love interest in. Me? I am inclined to trust my Maas superfriend who has rarely (see: rarely. But she has led me astray before) taken me down a destructive path. And, truthfully, I know people like to speculate. Sure, why not. For one series, I was cracking up at the speculation after book one, cackling to myself about the idiots wanting the ‘bad guy’ to be the endgame love interest (effing really? Why?) And then I read book two…and I was the idiot. Never again. I will never be that fool again because it made me CRAZY. Also? That series can burn a fiery death and that author (who was manipulative as F*** on character development for the furtherment of her popularity among fans) is on my permanent do not read list. For-Ever.

She doesn’t even exist to me. Who? Jen, do you remember who that was?

Ha. Didn’t think so. We don’t know her.

But I digress. MY POINT WAS-Just because the fans’ hopes for certain love interests seem stupid at best, I’ve been taken on a stupider ride before. The thing is, though-I really really….trust this one. I have high hopes for it. Because the moment I met Hunt Athalar? I was done. Dead. I died. And I really haven’t stopped reading it since I started. I’m somewhere on my second immediate re-read, and I feel no less warm and fuzzy every single time he or Bryce are on the page. Or, better yet, when they are on the page together, bantering, supporting, fighting for one another.

(my personal favorite, period-)

Bryce whirled to face the elevator, that ponytail nearly whipping him in the face.
“Watch that thing,” Hunt snapped as the elevator finally emptied and they walked in. “You’ll take my eye out.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” Hunt’s turn to lift a brow. “What do you think I do with my spare time?”
“I don’t know. I assumed you cursed at the stars and brooded and plotted revenge on all your enemies.”

“This isn’t some crime-scene investigative drama, Quinlan. It’s not that easy.”
“No one likes a condescending asshole, Athalar.”

Hunt followed a step behind. Still shirtless.
“The soap is right there,” she said, pointing to the stack directly at his eye level. “And yet you took down a box from the highest shelf?”
She could have sworn color stained his cheeks. “I saw purple glitter.”
She blinked at him. “You thought it was a sex toy, didn’t you?” He said nothing.

And I think that’s the part that always bummed me out. Here was this author that had EVERYTHING I love in books: VERY likable female lead (well, okay, just Bryce…I didn’t like Feyre OR Aelin (Or whatever her name was??), personally), a guy that was new and interesting and I haven’t gotten to read about in a while because they’re always written poorly (See: Angel), a tense enemies to lovers (though I thought it was a bit light on the enemies tagline), a friendship between the leads that leads to mindblowing…er…chemistry, and, the belle of the ball-PERIL. I. Love. PERIL. And romantic peril at that? SIGN ME UP. Though, as I said, I could never read these books, because I couldn’t stand how many men this woman always wrote into existence. And then Arielle said-I think you’re wrong to not read this one. Angels. Enemies to lovers. Bryce. Hunt. DO IT. So, because it’s my girl I love more than anything in this world…I did.

She bit into the croissant. “Isn’t it exhausting to be an alphahole all the time? Do you guys have a handbook for it? Maybe secret support groups?”
“An alpha-what?”
“Alphahole. Possessive and aggressive.” She waved a hand at his bare torso. “You know—you males who rip your shirt off at the slightest provocation, who know how to kill people in twenty different ways, who have females falling over themselves to be with you; and when you finally bang one, you go full-on mating-frenzy with her, refusing to let another male look at or talk to her, deciding what and when she needs to eat, what she should wear, when she sees her friends—”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”

And, though I don’t know what the end result will be, I’m hooked. Despite my reservations and fragile heart, I’m hooked. And here it all comes down to this: This story was a trailblazer, a shooting star, and an absolute fucking delight. Bryce is someone I met and fell in love with almost immediately. Her loyalty. Her devotion. Her humanness. The mistakes and the fragility and the FIERCENESS. She is a girl I’d want to hang out with, and she is a girl that is fun to follow. And the way she holds someone accountable, but has the ability to look at the situation as someone else might have saw it, to work through that and forgive-to give all of herself? I love her. Absolutely adore her and am trash for her. And her relationship with Hunt? Amazing.

Bryce breathed, “If we summon a kristallos—”
“We don’t take that risk,” Hunt snarled. “We’ll figure out how to get the venom another way.”
“I can handle myself—”
“I can’t fucking handle myself, Quinlan. Not if you might be in danger.”

The complex layers that formed an alliance, then friendship, then love and trust…they captured my heart and made it hard to breathe. The subtlety of how deeply they felt for one another….it’s nothing short of a masterpiece. There’s a moment of emotional devastation that’s unparalleled to anything I’ve read in recent history, and it made my heart go crazy almost as much as actual strenuous and action sequences did/do. I can’t say what it is but…Hunt’s pain, his heartache, the dull ache of what could/is/will/can’t be, in a catastrophic and mind-numbing display of absolute torture-unreal. I LOVED IT. Though, I am a sick individual.

On that front: Man. The destruction in this book. The freaking….catastrophe of pain and hurt and world ending. Wow. I was trash for it. And let’s not belittle how she might have *mentioned* children but never said any die? Bravo because that shit is not cute and it does NOT add anything here. Merely mentioning they were running, etc.? Okay, I can deal. And I freaking APPRECIATE AND SEE YOU, MAAS. That’s not to say more isn’t coming, but, I was happy here. And the animal? (view spoiler) This is the type of writing I missed, that I have such a hard time finding. Not many authors *go there* for me. To that super dark moment that most people hate when one of the heroes gets hurt beyond comprehension but doesn’t give up, won’t leave someone behind, won’t stop fighting even though they have nothing left, etc. And I KNOW this is something she has always done but, alas, as I don’t read her books because *reasons* I miss out. And I’m okay with that, but now that I have found a book I truly am obsessed with…I hope she doesn’t screw the pooch. Lol. Literally.

Does she have the best writing style, adjectives, adverbs, names of characters, cheese level? No. Not all of it is my style. I don’t necessarily love the way she writes…but more what she writes. I can deal with her writing because she can lead me places not many authors can, and for that we are equals and I can hope and pray she keeps things going as they seem to be going *ahem* HUNT.

Speaking of the handsome devil [angel], I just…I love him? He was funny, sarcastic, witty, loyal AF, dedicated, and never once forgot his first love, but knew he was falling in love all the same. It was honestly beautiful to watch, and he is-quite frankly-Bryce’s equal. He would do anything for her. Anything; Just as she would for him. I am obsessed with that-how rare is it that not one, but two are self-sacrificing in a relationship. Both as friends and more. The way they risk their safety time and again to defend and honor one another, it’s groundbreaking to me and, in turn, cracked the tough exterior covering my heart where this author is concerned. The way he longed to be her friend, saw how loyal she was and just ached and yearned to have a friend like that-I might have become a ridiculous pile of goo. And the way he felt honored when they DID become friends, beaming with pride. It obliterated my crusty exterior, seriously.

“No, no, and no,” Bryce cut her off. “Jesiba is having me do a classified job, and Hunt was assigned to protect me.”
“Is being shirtless in your house part of that assignment?”
“You know how these Vanir males are. They live to show off their muscles.”
Hunt rolled his eyes as Juniper laughed.
“I’m shocked you’re even letting him stay here, B.”
“I didn’t really have a choice.”
“Hmmm.”
A thump of bare feet on the ground. “You know he’s listening, right? His feathers are probably so puffed up he won’t be able to fit through the door.”

And the steam level? I LOVE IT. Just that slow build, the relationship building felt so REAL, so palpable, which made it all the more addicting. And the way she leaves us yearning for more? I cannot. Literally. Not over the top (yet) and just enough to suck you in and hook you…I was a fan of what she did here and I am shocked there wasn’t more. And, honestly, pleasantly surprised .

It sucked. This stupid fucking world they lived in. It sucked, and it was full of awful people. And the good ones always paid for it.

And, finally (I think), the way betrayal was explored. That trust you put in friends. In your family. In the horrible little world you put yourself in…Maas excelled here. Both in fun shock (to me), and the ultimate betrayal of long-time friends. Of not knowing the truth and being spoon-fed lies but still persevering, seeking the light of truth that will help you get past your hurt. And then, ultimately, just deciding that, no matter the circumstance or consequences, you don’t care. All the people surrounding you who hurt you-some out of love, others just because- they love you and care for you and you love them and care for them. So damn it all and move on. This is the most important reason I love Bryce-and why she is so relatable to me.

Ruhn said to her, “I asked you to come. Not him.”
Bryce linked her arm through Athalar’s, the portrait they painted laughable: Bryce in her fancy work dress and heels, the angel in his black battle-suit.
“We’re joined at the hip now, unfortunately for you. Best, best friends.”
“The best,” Hunt echoed, his grin unfading.

I am not lying when I say that I could go on for days about everything to do with this book. Do I like paranormal normally, with shifters and animals and worlds mixed in all this? No. I hate them actually. And that’s the reason when, in September when this first came out, I started it and one page in I was like, yeah, no, peace out, when it began talking about a wolf friend. But, again, at Arielle’s urging, I tried it again and couldn’t be happier I did. This world, these characters, the utter FIGHT they have in them…it’s mesmerizing, and I found my perilous effed up world I have so been craving. Thank you to my friends for making me read something I never thought I’d like. And a big [preemptive] thanks to Maas for finally getting to the effing point and choosing a ‘worthy’ flawed dude that stole most of our hearts right off the bat. I cannot wait until the next book comes out. I am so excited, so ready, and am elated I get to read it together with some of my best friends.

Loyal unto death and beyond.

BOOK REVIEW: Once Upon A Broken Heart by Stephanie Garber

February 14, 2022 / Chelsea / 4 Comments

Once Upon A Broken Heart (Once Upon A Broken Heart #2)
by Stephanie Garber
Purchase on: Amazon, iBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:
From the #1 New York Times bestselling author of Caraval, the first book in a new series about love, curses, and the lengths that people will go to for happily ever after.

Evangeline Fox was raised in her beloved father’s curiosity shop, where she grew up on legends about immortals, like the tragic Prince of Hearts. She knows his powers are mythic, his kiss is worth dying for, and that bargains with him rarely end well.

But when Evangeline learns that the love of her life is about to marry another, she becomes desperate enough to offer the Prince of Hearts whatever he wants in exchange for his help to stop the wedding. The prince only asks for three kisses. But after Evangeline’s first promised kiss, she learns that the Prince of Hearts wants far more from her than she’s pledged. And he has plans for Evangeline that will either end in the greatest happily ever after, or the most exquisite tragedy…

“I don’t think you and I have the same definition of hurt.”
“Be thankful for that, Little Fox.” Jacks gave her a smile that was all sharp edges. A drop of blood fell from the corner of his mouth, and something godforsaken washed over his expression. “Hurt is what made me.”

Damn this book. Damn this stupid book that I didn’t even care about. Was it the heroine? Was it the storyline? Was it the way the words flowed so beautifully upon opening up the story? Could it have been the absolutely gorgeous cover? Or was it simply that I felt at home, at peace, just happy when I read it? Or, the scariest question of all-Was it Jacks?

He looked like a bad decision some unfortunate person was about to make.

 And that’s the whole point-I truly cannot say why I ~~liked~~ loved this book so much. I was so blase about OUABH’s impending release, so meh, so whatever that I didn’t even know it was released until all the editions began pouring onto my doorstep. And isn’t that the kicker? I knew. Deep down my soul knew that I’d love this story. So, book hoarder that I am, I possess them all, naturally, before even having read the story and even believing I wouldn’t care one way or another for it. But, again, why? I still can’t even tell you.

“Heroes don’t get happy endings. They give them to other people.”

This book, to me, felt so different than the Caraval stories. It’s the same world, really honestly the same characters-so why was it so different? I think the thing is, it really wasn’t. Perhaps Garber has grown as a writer, maybe she simply wrote from a deeper perspective. I don’t quite understand how a writer can have all the same mannerisms, yet churn out a book that felt so wholly me when the others kind of failed to do so.

“She hates me,” Jacks said pleasantly. “So even if she likes you more, that’s not saying very much.”
“Are you certain about that?”

I loved Tella. I loved Scarlett. I adored Julian and Legend…And the stories were absolutely spellbinding, always wrapped in a haze of fairytale type enchantment. It was no joke when people said this felt somewhat like a fairytale-and I keep telling myself that was why I loved it so much. But if this was, in fact, a fairytale, it was certainly a demented version of one. And…there it is. I truly think that’s it: This was no fairytale . There was no happily ever after. It was my favorite kind of story, ripe with a sea of possibilities: Happily Never After.

She knew her story had the potential for infinite endings—and that belief hadn’t changed. There was a happy ending waiting for her.

Yeah, Evangeline will find it, sure. But the journey she took, the desperate attempts at creating love at first sight, at believing her one true love was within grasp at all times, the way she was so willing to love and trust and forgive and risk it all for both her kindness of heart and the idea of hope. Hope that someone else would do the same for her, hope that her one true love would be her knight in shining armor, hope that good would win over evil, always…I love that she didn’t just get that. I love that her journey is so rocky, deceptive, and convoluted. But, most of all, I loved the unpredictability-because there was literally not one moment (save, bad guys) that I could have predicted.

She just wanted someone to want her the way Jacks had wanted this girl. And she didn’t want it to be because of a spell or a curse. Evangeline wanted a real love powerful enough to break a spell.

Well…maybe I could have, but I’m not sure how. And, to be honest, part of that unpredictability comes from the hero (?What even is Jacks?) himself. I have never been anything but transparent when it comes to Jacks in the Caraval series: I truly do not remember a thing about him, but I remember enough I just didn’t care or get why anyone would root against Legend for Tella’s heart.

According to the myths, the Prince of Hearts was not capable of love because his heart had stopped beating long ago. Only one person could make it work again: his one true love. They said his kiss was fatal to all but her—his only weakness—and as he’d sought her, he’d left a trail of corpses.

Yeah, okay, bad boy with bad intentions and even badder actions who deserves good and sweet and adventurous girl-I get it, but come on. She loved Legend, end of story. BUT, that being said, this world? It was made for Jacks. And, truthfully, I loved Evangeline FOR Jacks. Remember that quote the Mockingjay, the one about her [Katniss] being fire and Gale being fire, as well, and Peeta was the dandelion in the wind? That’s Tella and Jacks-they just didn’t go. This book, while not wholly about Jacks himself, helped him to shine a little (duh, obviously). And, again, yeah I know-He is a main character therefore he doesn’t have anything else going on to really contend with, but this is also what I loved about Garber’s storytelling here….this book really didn’t throw Jacks all up in our face. Like…at all.

He was terrible. There was no other word to describe him—except maybe heartless or depraved or rotten. The way Jacks seemed to enjoy pain was absolutely staggering. The apple in his hand probably possessed more sympathy than he did. This was not the same young man who’d practically bled heartbreak all over the knave of his church. Something inside of him was broken.

Romances that aren’t really romances are my favorite kind-the tension, the unknowing protectiveness, mean pet names turning to something sweeter and kinder (Side note: This book is home to probably my favorite intimate little pet name I’ve heard in a while. I don’t know why, but Little Fox just really is my favorite thing ever. Every time I saw it, my heart just went berserk. Crazy. And, let’s be honest, if we’d have been stuck with him calling her ‘Pet’ the whole book, I might have raged. That, in tandem, is probably my least favorite pet name (and Woman. Who the eff wants to be called ‘Woman?’). No thanks. Hard pass), the jealousy. It all adds up to a million non-kisses and unplanned heroic acts and I am all here for it-and so was Garber because her book is riddled with so many tantalizingly sinful moments without even closely bordering smutty-barely restrained bites, caresses, touches, and-ahem-okay, I won’t say the last but *insert red face sweating emoji*.

“Do you stare at everyone like that, or just me?” Jacks looked up.

Evangeline reached out to Jacks in a moment of desperation, so they started out as tentative allies, turned untrusting partners, turned actual allies, to somewhat friends. The addition of Jacks only being able to kiss his one true love without it resulting in death? Umm…yes please. Bring the tension. I THRIVE on sexual tension. Bring on ALLL the tension. Who needs kisses when you can have…other things.

“I’m curious about a lot of things. I’m curious about you, but I don’t want you to bite me!”
The corner of Jacks’s mouth twitched. “I’ve already done that, Little Fox.”

Evangeline’s naive view of life and quest for her one true love, her selflessness and willingness to help those around her that she cares about is perfect for Jacks’s hard-nosed Fury self who is cynical, heart-broken, and cold as stone-she is the yin to his yang, she will slowly break down his long-built up barriers and crumble his resolve as he saves her time and again, as he continues to play games and use her in his quest for something Fate-ish and top secret and realizes she really does mean something to him. We saw so many wonderful moments where we got tiny fractures in his exterior, moments where we saw flares of vulnerability…and only more will come. I lived for these far and few between moments, losing sleep long into the night daydreaming and aching for more, all the while knowing that I was getting exactly what I love most, romance wise, yet still pining for so much more and knowing it will be a year before we get any gratification.

“I didn’t think you cared.”
“I don’t. But you still owe me one more kiss, and until I collect it, you’re mine, and I do not like to share.”

Some books have crazy endings, amazing epic awesome cliffhangers….and some have subtle ends, subtle chaos, but cliffhangers all the same. And, I’ll be honest, the books with subtle cliffhangers, such as this one? They are far more likely, in my opinion, to have an epic final book. An author can write a crazy end, and I get SO excited as they are my favorite thing ever, but I’m always willing to wait because I’m so nervous that the next book won’t be worth the wait, that it won’t hold up to those monumental final moments. But with endings like these, I can’t help but feel helpless, as if I’m drowning, because it’s as if I can’t breathe knowing I have to wait until literally next year to see what type of story Jacks and Evangeline are going to get. How (notice I did not say if) he will eventually crumble and break and (omg I HOPE) profess his love for her (Fates tend to get kind of obsessed, don’t they??), how he will protect her at any cost…I just, I can’t wait. I seriously cannot wait. It makes me ill to think how far away it is-but that’s my fault, isn’t it? Giving into the urge so quickly? So easily? Well, shame on me.

Hope is a difficult thing to kill, just a spark of it can start a fire.

Basically this review is a horrible non-review with very little in way of what I would normally write, but I had no direction because I have no clue what worked and why it hit me differently than the Caraval series did. I absolutely ADORED Caraval-I did-but there was just something so wholly satisfying about a non romance littered with a girl who dreamed of a fairy tale romance that I couldn’t help but to be dazzled. Easy romances are boring, period, and this was and will be anything but. The promise of something so much greater, grander, magnificent than just a normal romance might be what excites me most-the idea that Garber could literally take this story anywhere. But, perhaps the most promising of all, is the notion that Jacks will slowly lose his mind, will become jealous of any other person who seeks Evangeline. The idea that he will do anything to protect her, even though he says he wouldn’t and doesn’t care, that she is and will be a more guarded, less doe-eyed girl who only wants her happily ever after-its going to be a cacophony of chaos and heartbreak and destruction (PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LET THERE BE CHAOS AND HEARTBREAK)…it sounds like a pretty dark book to me. Now, if only I didn’t have to wait.

****

Guys…this one just got me good. I don’t even know why…it just resonated deep within me, and I’ll be honest when I say I never really cared for Jacks. Now, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. I picked this up expecting to simply tolerate it, and instead walked away enthralled, obsessed, and more than upset I didn’t get more from Jacks and Evangeline. No clue what to read next, but I’ve always been a sucker for fairytale type stories and this somewhat quenched that thirst-Nothing will really touch my mood now.

So, if it’s not obvious, I literally cannot wait to write this review.

BOOK REVIEW: The Last Graduate (The Scholomance #2) by Naomi Novik

February 10, 2022 / Chelsea / 2 Comments

The Last Graduate (The Scholomance #2)
by Naomi Novik
Purchase on: Amazon, iBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:
A budding dark sorceress determined not to use her formidable powers uncovers yet more secrets about the workings of her world in the stunning sequel to A Deadly Education, the start of Naomi Novik's groundbreaking crossover series.

At the Scholomance, El, Orion, and the other students are faced with their final year--and the looming specter of graduation, a deadly ritual that leaves few students alive in its wake. El is determined that her chosen group will survive, but it is a prospect that is looking harder by the day as the savagery of the school ramps up. Until El realizes that sometimes winning the game means throwing out all the rules . . .

Praise for A Deadly Education

"The scholomance is the dark school of magic I've been waiting for, and its wise, witty, and monstrous heroine is one I'd happily follow anywhere--even into a school full of monsters."--Katherine Arden, New York Times bestselling author of The Bear and the Nightingale

"Novik deliciously undoes expectations about magic schools, destined heroes, and family legacies. A gorgeous book about monsters and monstrousness, chockablock with action, cleverness, and wit."--#1 New York Times bestselling author Holly Black

"A must-read . . . Novik puts a refreshingly dark, adult spin on the magical boarding school. . . . Readers will delight in the push-and-pull of El and Orion's relationship, the fantastically detailed world, the clever magic system, and the matter-of-fact diversity of the student body."--Publishers Weekly (starred review)

I had friends. Which felt even more unreal than surviving long enough to become a senior, and I owed that, I owed every last bit of it, to Orion Lake, and I didn’t care, actually, what the price tag was going to be. There’d be one, no question. Mum hadn’t warned me for no reason. But I didn’t care. I’d pay it back, whatever it was.

Did I want to immediately jump on here and write a review rather than dive into my next October Spooky Read? No. Did I want to think about this book all day at work and while doing mundane things around my house? No. Did I want to be so out of breath, so insanely drunk on adrenaline and the nerve-wracking peril butterflies borne from pain and panic, thus causing me to stay up all night in a crescendo of feels so inevitably dark, alluring and cataclysmic that I couldn’t help but re-read the same devastatingly amazing scene over and over again until there were undeniable bags under my eyes today? I mean…yes. Yes. Yes to all of this-I totally lied. I am a monster and my monster has been fed THUSLY.

You could ask people to be brave, you could ask them to be kind, you could ask them to care, you could ask them to help; you could ask them for a thousand hard and painful things. But not when it was so obviously useless. You couldn’t ask someone to deliberately trade themselves away completely, everything they had and might ever be, just to give you a chance, when in the end—and the gates were the end, the very end of things—you knew you weren’t any more special than they were. It wasn’t even heroism; it was just a bad equation that didn’t balance.

This is a review that didn’t allow me to start another book, that didn’t allow me to catch up on another review I’m behind on, that didn’t allow me proper sleep even tonight, because the thoughts and emotions and utter helplessness that comes from such an amazing end of a book cannot and will not be contained inside this masochistic cranium of mine. I am bent. I am broken. And I LIVE for the mind-numbingly chaotic chaos that is YA fantasy when done correctly.

Either they’ll tell you to do what you want to do anyway, in which case you didn’t need their advice, or they’ll tell you to do the opposite, in which case you’ll have to choose between sullenly following their advice, like a little kid who has been forced to brush her teeth and go to bed at a reasonable hour, or ignoring it and grimly carrying on, all the while knowing that your course of action is guaranteed to lead you straight to pain and dismay.
If you’re wondering which of those two options I picked, then you must not know me, as pain and dismay were obviously my destination.

And make no mistake, this was done right. It was done well. It was evil, cruel, so satisfyingly macabre that I can’t help but sound like a demon as all I have talked about is my withering sanity that surely went south with this weirdly perfect masterpiece of a series (thus far). Naomi Novik is no novice in writing fantasy-Uprooted remains one of the most surprising favorites of my past to this day. So when I saw she was going a possessed school type route (what even is the Scholomance if not a school that lives and breathes as its own entity?), I was all in.

The Scholomance isn’t exactly a living thing, but it isn’t exactly not, either.

If she won me over with, like, random tree monsters and other such nonsense (I hate this type of nonsense, weirdly), then surely one of my favorite types of tropes ever could be written to utter godly heights by this woman.

Naturally as soon as he dared think about what he might want, surely that made him a monster. But as someone who’s been told she’s a monster from almost all corners from quite early on, I know perfectly well the only sensible thing to do when self-doubt creeps into your own head is to repress it with great violence.

I’ll admit the first book shocked me. I knew Novik was an odd writer, for me anyway, but this was….beyond absurd. Weirdly wonderful. And, beyond that absurdity of absurdness I’ve yet to explain, the wordiness is enough to scare anyone off. I used to hate that type of writing, so how Uprooted got through my crusty barriers years ago is beyond me. Don’t get me wrong-I’m all for it now-but I used to not be able to stand it. POINT BEING, this series is so beyond wordy that I’m shocked that so many people got past this book to get to that juicy last chunk of the book. I will admit, even to myself, the beginning was a bit of a chore.

“Sure,” Orion said blithely, and I didn’t literally gnash my teeth because no one does, do they, but I felt as if I were gnashing my teeth. With no justification in the slightest.

I try harder than most-I rarely DNF a book-but I had to push. Look, I am one who really reallyyyy loves those smidgens of romance. One might say they are my driving force. But, when the romance isn’t necessarily…blossoming…I expect other things to keep me occupied. In book one, we got a lot of Orion, but it’s not like he was the star of the show-clearly we are in snarky Galadriel’s head forever and always and it’s an endless rant much like what goes on in my head 24/7, thus why I love her so hard. I swear-the bitchiness is unparalleled. But we got…lots of action. There were so many things that happened with so many different people in so many different areas that it was just so alluring. So gripping. And that ’we’re not dating but are really dating’ storyline remains one of my newest favorite non tropes. In this one, I felt it was a lot of being in her head, and lots of hanging with her friends doing the same-ish things.

I don’t know that I’d have bent my neck the way she did, apologizing to me and even asking to be friends after I bit her head off. I’m not sorry for doing the biting, I had more than enough cause, but I still don’t know that I’d have had the grace.
Oh, who am I lying to? My supply of grace wouldn’t overflow an acorn cap.

Now, okay, I was super sick for book one and lots of book two-I admit I completely scrapped this read when I got to about halfway and there was some serious feels that should have been felt that I most definitely didn’t feel and I knew I was checked out and couldn’t focus-I re read all the first half of the book when I began to feel better and I am SO GLAD I did. The second time around was so much more rewarding-but it still didn’t feel like we got a lot of what I wanted for much of the book.

I’m not some sort of pallid romantic who insists on being loved for my shining inner being. My inner being is exceptionally cranky and I often don’t want her company myself…

Well. Ha ha Novik says, because this book kicked it into overdrive and it never really stopped. The Last Graduate did not go in any direction I would have imagined it to go, and I can’t say I didn’t want things to perhaps follow the school vibes of A Deadly Education a little more similarly but, in the end, I loved how the path the author took showed the journey of El and how she really is a snarky, rude soul that could stand to be nicer to my poor Orion, but what her true self looked like on the inside-who she really was and how she really was deep down-she had more depth in character and personality than perhaps anyone there. It was a very peculiar journey…but I see why the author did it. There was no other way, really, to show just how much El had progressed and changed from the beginning of book one when she was just a miserable outcast who would have blasted pretty much anyone out of the way to secure her place at freedom during graduation to the self-sacrificing martyr anyone would be shocked to see today.

Mum would only warn me off something bad, not something painful. So obviously Orion was the most brilliant maleficer ever, concealing his vile plans by saving the lives of everyone over and over just so he could, I don’t know, kill them himself later on? Or maybe Mum was worried that he was so annoying that he’d drive me to become the most brilliant maleficer ever, which was probably more plausible, since that’s supposedly my own doom anyway.

Much of the book is spent with El and her allies, which was cute, but I’m all for when we began to mingle more as a larger group, more for when Orion got to come out of his shell and we got to actually see some more depth from him, as well. We knew El was deep-but this whole series we were told time and again all Orion knew was fighting mals and that he’d sooner set up a date mal hunting for mana than hanging with friends his age or even show interest in a girl.

“They’re freaked out over Orion.”
“After you’ve only been dating two months?” Liu said.
“We’re not dating!”
Aadhya made a dramatic show of rolling her eyes heavenwards. “After you’ve been doing whatever you’re doing that is not dating but totally looks like dating to everyone else, for only two months.”

And that goes back to what my friend said when she told me I needed to read it: Orion has a hero complex, but it’s so much deeper than that-and, although I didn’t think we’d see it at all in this series seeing as how he is talked and alluded to-we finally got a glimpse into his tortured soul. YES. You heard me right- We have a bonafide tortured hero, here , and damn if I didn’t have to work for it, but I unearthed him and he has a permanent place in my heart. He was an adorable cinnamon roll, sure, but now he is…he’s just…he’s more. And I suppose that goes without saying, doesn’t it, as Novik doesn’t really write one-dimensional worlds or characters. But, I’ll admit, I thought she was going for intentionally flighty here, and I’m so so so glad she cracked open the shell that is Orion Lake and proved my assumption wrong (It only took two whole books but okay).

At least they had certainly stopped worrying about doing any killing of their own. Even Orion had got over being enraged and was just standing gawking at me—in an infuriatingly starry-eyed way, in his case, demonstrating his continuing total lack of judgment and sense.

El is a wonderfully diverse character who says it like it is-she’s selfish, she knows what she has to do to survive, and not much stands in her way as far as distractions go. But what happens when you make friends, find a guy you [won’t admit it but we all know it] would take a bullet (or a mal) for, and see that things just aren’t right, that you can do more. What then? We get to see what humanity means to El when she’s really backed into a corner, when she sees the school isn’t going to settle for one of the most powerful students in history just coasting through and graduating like a ’normal’ person. And that’s where we get to see the El we knew was hiding all along. She did a good job pretending she didn’t care, acting blasé at the most horrendous things…but in each rude remark, each turn of phrase, each knee to Orion’s groin, we saw through it (or at least I did) and, in the end, the school got to see the true El, too.

And yeah, hey, speaking of that before I go, she is just so mean to Orion. I love it, I always did, especially in book one, but wow my heart cringed for the poor guy. Dude’s obviously obsessed with her and she can’t help but glare and put him off at each and every turn-when, clearly, she is just as obsessed with him as he is her. Honestly, if I didn’t say it before (I did), her inner monologues about him were enough to power me through my day. The simple way she’d glare at him if he wanted to run off and hunt mals, how she lectured him to do his homework, how she would glare and coolly dismiss him with a British flair of iciness to make it clear he wasn’t getting to anybase was the much needed dark humor that fanned the flames of their weird passionate non-relationship and, at the end of it all, it paid off so spectacularly that the wind was stolen right from my lungs, my knees taken out from underneath me, and the floor disappeared out of seemingly nowhere. That’s exactly what epic is, in case you were wondering.

…and then the bastard looked down at me with his entire heart crammed into his eyes and his face and said, barely a whisper, “Galadriel.”

All in all I did love book one more, just because I’m a book one kinda gal, mostly. They almost always speak to me in unsung ways that are unable to be fulfilled once my heart is full of those puppy love moments, the first dregs of death and destruction, the way the battlefield is set and the story could literally go anywhere from that moment. Second books rarely stand a chance with me, to be honest. But, I’ve found second books have a great little weapon in their arsenal: The end. Book one may be the strongest nine times out of ten, but the second book in a series generally packs a punch so agonizing that book three can’t come soon enough. Alas, that generally leads to a wimpy book three…but I’d like to think Novik is better than that, better than such mortal worries-but I guess we’ll see, won’t we?

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