Category: Review (Page 54 of 276)

Glint (The Plated Prisoner #2) by Raven Kennedy

Glint (The Plated Prisoner #2) by Raven KennedyGlint (The Plated Prisoner #2)
by Raven Kennedy
Purchase on: AmazoniBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:

For ten years, I’ve lived in a gilded cage inside King Midas’s golden castle. But one night changed everything.

Now I’m here, a prisoner of Fourth Kingdom’s army, and I’m not sure if I’m going to make it out of this in one piece. They’re marching to battle, and I’m the bargaining chip that will either douse the fire or spark a war.

At the heart of my fear, my worry, there’s him—Commander Rip.

Known for his brutality on the battlefield, his viciousness is unsurpassed. But I know the truth about what he is.

Fae.

The betrayers. The murderers. The ones who nearly destroyed Orea, wiping out Seventh Kingdom in the process. Rip has power sizzling beneath this skin and glinting spikes down his spine. But his eyes—his eyes are the most compelling of all.

When he turns those black eyes on me, I feel captive for an entirely different reason.

I may be out of my cage, but I’m not free, not even close. In the game of kings and armies, I’m the gilded pawn. The question is, can I out maneuver them?

This is the captivating second book of The Plated Prisoner series. It’s an adult epic fantasy story blending romance, intrigue, and beautiful imagery. Return to the seductive story of magic inspired by the myth of King Midas, and get caught up in the world of Orea.

Time changes with torment. It stretches on, lengthening seconds, extending minutes. I’ve learned that pain and fear have a way of prolonging. And as if that weren’t cruel enough, our minds make sure we relive those moments again and again and again, long after they’ve passed.
What a bastard, time is.

Here comes Mrs. Broken record, but it appears I’ve been taken by surprise yet again. I am dead serious when I tell you that I literally had never even HEARD of this book or this author before I accidentally stumbled onto it when I was trying to figure out the name of a totally different book series. Fate has a hilarious way of working out, don’t you think?

All the grief, all the worry, I wrap it up like old yarn on a spool, tucking away every frayed strand. Because if I show him my fear, if I reveal my weaknesses to this male, he’ll latch onto those threads and yank them all, unraveling me completely.

Not only did I ENJOY these last two books, they devoured me. I don’t say this lightly, and I don’t say it without meaning-I didn’t simply speed through these last two books, they demanded I read them at all times, without remorse. I’d put the book down then, inexplicably, I couldn’t concentrate on any other task. I’d be trying to sleep and, whadya know, I couldn’t! This sounds typical, I know, but this was different. This was all encompassing.

Maybe ignorance isn’t a vice, but a reprieve.

I can’t pinpoint what exactly it was that spoke to me, but I keep coming to the same conclusion that I’m a total snob when it comes to authors, books, and writing styles, and that I merely thought I was going to read this, obsess a little over a certain dark bad boy, and move on [as I always tend to do]. And time will tell how quickly my heart can move on- I do so love to transition into other series because I don’t get a lot of time to read and I cherish every moment I can. That did not happen. So far, this series has its claws so deeply clutched into me that I can scarcely breathe, that I can’t tell where I end and it begins.

Pretty lies cover up a lot of ugly truths.

But oh, to be a Goldfinch finally finding some wings after meeting a dark, commanding presence who wants more for me, for me to see the confines I’ve allowed myself to be hindered by. Because-here’s the kicker-I can tell you EXACTLY where I and this book/series collide– His name is Rip, and it couldn’t be more on the nose if it tried, because I am dead, dying, and dripping golden goo at my seams, I’m Resting In [a million] Pieces because of this tall, dark, otherworldly man.

No, hear me the fuck out. Seriously. He is NOT average. He is NOT run of the mill. And he is NOT a rinse and repeat hero. I don’t care WHO disagrees, I am ready to put up my dukes, because there is NO room for disagreements here, no lies detected. He is superior in all ways and I literally won’t hear anything else of it.

So, you’ve met a man who makes a beaten down, imprisoned woman come out of her shell before. Okay, you got me there. You’ve likely met a man who pushes her to fight, to be stronger, to break free of her chains (Ie, Midas (the bastard)). Mmkay, cool. I bet you’ve even met a man who plays it cool, acts like it’s her choice what she does with her captive mind and soul…maybe you have. But at what point have you actually seen him let that woman go, let her make her own faults, decisions, let her be who she wants to be even if it stifles her, all the while it kills him inside. Here’s where that’s tricky-I am only saying this: Rip DOES let Auren make her own choices. It truly IS her choice. If she stays, if she goes…etc. I’m saying that, in the end, he truly would never manhandle her into doing what he thinks is right, even if it would tear his soul to pieces. And, finally, what man admits he is the villain…and owns it?

His head drops down, turning, and we meet each other’s eyes. I used to think that his were as black as a bottomless pit, but I was wrong. They aren’t suffocating or soulless. Something swims in them when he looks at me.
I’m afraid that if I look too long, that same thing will swim in my eyes too.

Yes I know, I’m explaining this horribly and a lot of my vehemence stems from me being done with book 3, too, and some things are convoluted. I can see it happening, a few choice words I’ve used leaking out incorrectly and ahead of it’s [review] time. But what I’ve been trying to say is this: yes, you’ve seen variations of Commander Rip before, but you’ve never seen HIM before, and you’ve never seen it done this way, and that’s for both book 2 and 3, and I stand so firmly on that.

“Sometimes,” he murmurs, “things need first to be ruined in order to then be remade.”

To see him treat her with nothing but respect, to defy her every negative preconceived notion of what a man is and what he can do, to slowly earn her trust, to unravel her wariness day by day, lesson by lesson…and expect nothing in return-my heart. Be still my fucking heart. And when he makes a mistake (3), his remorse is so palpable, so overflowing with regret and the need to make her see why he does what he does…unparalleled, it’s truly mind-blowing.

Are people so content in ignorance that they’ll believe every lie fed to them, despite what they see right in front of their eyes?

I love him so dearly, and I am going to stop here because if you thought I was going to not make the whole of my book three review about-um-yeah-you’d be dead wrong. If you think I talked about Rip too much in this one, steer clear of review three. We slowly got to see Auren became the woman she only thought she could dream of being, to see there is more to her than being Midas’ golden pet, to see behind that ascent into greatness…but not 100% there yet. No- she has so much higher to rise, I am TELLING you, and seeing how she is so strong for others through everything….it’s nothing short of amazing to read. But no…for me, sorry, the true star here is my dark dark commander, and it’s all you’re going to hear about from here on out, you better believe it.

Shove down weakness, and strength will rise…

View all my reviews

Gild (The Plated Prisoner #1) by Raven Kennedy

Gild (The Plated Prisoner #1) by Raven KennedyGild (The Plated Prisoner #1)
by Raven Kennedy
Purchase on: AmazoniBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:

The fae abandoned this world to us. And the ones with power rule.

Gold.

Gold floors, gold walls, gold furniture, gold clothes. In Highbell, in the castle built into the frozen mountains, everything is made of gold.

Even me.

King Midas rescued me. Dug me out of the slums and placed me on a pedestal. I’m called his precious. His favored. I’m the woman he Gold-Touched to show everyone that I belong to him. To show how powerful he is. He gave me protection, and I gave him my heart. And even though I don’t leave the confines of the palace, I’m safe.

Until war comes to the kingdom and a deal is struck.

Suddenly, my trust is broken. My love is challenged. And I realize that everything I thought I knew about Midas might be wrong.

Because these bars I’m kept in, no matter how gilded, are still just a cage. But the monsters on the other side might make me wish I’d never left.

The myth of King Midas reimagined. This compelling adult fantasy series is as addictive as it is unexpected. With romance, intrigue, and danger, the gilded world of Orea will grip you from the very first page.

I’m the gold-plated prisoner.
But what a pretty prison it is.

Full disclosure, for those who do not read my lengthy reviews, that I have already finished book two and started book three, and those are far superior to this story. Also, talk about having trouble picking the shelving tabs, wow. That being said, though, this book was clearly a set up, a path leading somewhere that has been wondrous and addicting through and through. I can’t quite pinpoint when I started loving this series (HA LIES, LIES DETECTED), but I think I did the moment a certain someone sauntered [because you can’t describe his swagger any other way] onto the scene.

And I know books aren’t about the male leads but, in this specific case where the males are pig-headed, toxic, woman hating slugs who get off on a woman (Or women) with Stockholm Syndrome, yeah…I can get behind a sexy man walking into the story who understands what it is to take care of a woman or treat her as an equal.

And I bet you’re shocked I even brought this up, as it never really is something I touch base on, but this book is heavily reliant on the power men hold above women and how they can abuse that power, especially when they are regarded with status and flash. I know all this is triggery for some people, so I thought I should preface it ahead of time, no matter where my review takes me.

But memory and time aren’t friends. They reject each other, they hurry in opposite directions, pulling the binding taut between them, threatening to snap. They fight, and we inexplicably lose. Memory and time. Always losing one as you go on with the other.

Again, I don’t think I have much to say about this particular story, riddled with girl hate, delusion, and a narcissistic male, but I did want to review it all the same, not gloss over it as I do sometimes when I am busy. Very little in the way of plot happens for 60% of the story, but after that (though I still didn’t love it at this point) it marginally begins to find a pace that is more up to the standards I had hoped it could reach. Obviously, though, the disgust I felt after she is out of the palace was not palatable and I still felt myself skimming.

Do not confuse me skimming with a book being poorly written, for that title goes to my previous read, The Savage and the Swan-That was poorly written and a convoluted story to boot. But Gild? Nah, I respect the path of this book, the journey. Because once I got past the drivel of the sniveling bastard Midas, I really started to see where this was going and I quite enjoyed it. And, to be fair, I am on book three and…..wow. Just WOW. I LIVE FOR IT. I just hope I finish loving it, so I can look forward to the final book coming out next year.

You can have all the gold in the world and yet lack everything of real worth.

I kind of wanted to address the hate of how Auren acts, how she keeps accepting things, how she crawls back to Midas, buys his bullshit repeatedly, because…isn’t that, like, the exact definition of Stockholm Syndrome? To fall in love with your captor, to eat the spoon fed lies, the pretty (and in this case, literal) cage? I really don’t see how people wouldn’t understand that process, how long it would take to fix that, piece together what is fiction or reality. What I CAN understand, though, is the desire to cease reading because the repetitiveness just isn’t for you, or you simply don’t like it-that’s fair. What isn’t fair, though, is implying she is weak or spineless (especially after reading further) when that’s literally the point of the whole book. I’m no expert though, just my thoughts.

So, I don’t know-it’s hard to write a review about your least favorite of the series while also urging them to try the books, knowing full well they get better and better. But that’s me here, now, trying to tell people that if you get past the first book, they get infinitely better-at least to me. Book two is far from perfect, but the feels were rampant, and book three has me literally dying to read, on the edge of my seat, and like a giddy little girl. Do with that what you will.

View all my reviews

A Far Wilder Magic by Allison Saft

A Far Wilder Magic by Allison SaftA Far Wilder Magic by Allison Saft
Purchase on: AmazoniBooks
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 lifethis 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

View all my reviews

BOOK REVIEW: The Hating Game by Sally Thorne

BOOK REVIEW: The Hating Game by Sally ThorneThe Hating Game by Sally Thorne
Purchase on: AmazoniBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:

Nemesis (n.) 1) An opponent or rival whom a person cannot best or overcome.

2) A person’s undoing

3) Joshua Templeman

Lucy Hutton and Joshua Templeman hate each other. Not dislike. Not begrudgingly tolerate. Hate. And they have no problem displaying their feelings through a series of ritualistic passive aggressive maneuvers as they sit across from each other, executive assistants to co-CEOs of a publishing company. Lucy can’t understand Joshua’s joyless, uptight, meticulous approach to his job. Joshua is clearly baffled by Lucy’s overly bright clothes, quirkiness, and Pollyanna attitude.

Now up for the same promotion, their battle of wills has come to a head and Lucy refuses to back down when their latest game could cost her her dream job…But the tension between Lucy and Joshua has also reached its boiling point, and Lucy is discovering that maybe she doesn’t hate Joshua. And maybe, he doesn’t hate her either. Or maybe this is just another game.

Review:

I type my password: IHATEJOSHUA4EV@.

The Hating Game consumed my every waking thought.  I’m a huge fan of enemies to lovers, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I loved this book, but it felt so much more then this is a favorite book.  I felt as though I knew Lucy and Josh, as though they were a part of me.  Their story had me clinging onto their every word and scene.  My emotions were tied up in knots.  And I couldn’t stop thinking about them long after I read that last page.  The Hating Game is a must read for fans of enemies to lovers and adult romance!

“What are you imagining? Your expression is filthy.”
“Strangling you.  Bare hands.” I can barely get the words out. I’m huskier than a phone- sex operator after a double shift.
“So that’s your kink.” His eyes are going dark.
“Only where you’re concerned.”
Both his eyebrows ratchet up, and he opens his mouth as his eyes go completely black, but he does not seem to be able to say a word.
It is wonderful.

Lucy Hutton and Josh Templeman worked at the same office.  Their companies had merged and they were both assistants to the co-COs.  They sat across from each other and hated the other passionatelyThe games they played and ways they tried to mess with the other every chance they got was addicting. They were a complete and utter HR nightmare.  With a new position opening, Josh and Lucy found themselves competing for the same promotion.  And in the process, both of their lives would never be the same.

“Shortcake.”
The sweet little word dissolves and I swallow.
“I’m not going to kill you. You’re so dramatic.” Then he presses his mouth lightly against mine.

Lucy Hutton was someone I adored.  Her thoughts cracked me up and while she was a little eccentric, she was so relatable and loveable.  Her attempts to mess with Josh in the best ways possible made me ridiculously happy!  Yet when Josh would try and be nice to her, ugh, my heart hurt because I was begging for her not to freak out.  Lucy made mistakes and I understood why.  She was so lonely and friendless.  I just wanted to give her a hug.  Or shake some sense into her when she got Danny to go on a date with her.  Yes he was kind and helpful to Lucy, but I wanted to shove him down to the ground and instead push Josh into her face and scream pick him!

His lips curve and I touch his face. The first smile Joshua’s ever had in my presence is pressed against my lips. I pull back in astonishment, and in one millisecond his face has defaulted back to grave and serious, albeit flushed.

Obsessed isn’t a huge enough word to describe my feelings towards Josh.  He could be such an asshole and mean to Lucy, but at the same time he could also be kind, caring, compassionate and thoughtful *like the lemonade, sobs*.  He seemed to have so much going on under the surface and I desperately wanted to know all of his thoughts.  Especially since from the second chapter on, it seemed like Josh was jealous of Lucy’s niceness to other males, when all she gave him was hate.  So I was here for ALL of the jealousy that would play out!  But he was so much more then that.  From each time he spoke up, to each time he called her shortcake, to each time he made marks in his planner, to every single kind thing he did, Josh made me fall in love with him that much deeper.  The more of Josh we got to see, it was so easy to see that he truly was everything.

When I think about his teeth biting softly down on my bottom lip, I get a clenching flutter between my legs. When I think of his hand on the back of my thigh, I have to reach down and feel where his fingers spread.  The hardness of his body? I can skip breathing for a bit. I wonder how I tasted to him. How I felt.

This book made me feel ALL the emotions!  One moment I’d have tears in my eyes and my heart was in my throat, and the next I’d be laughing so hard I’d have tears in my eyes again.  The Hating Game was emotional, heartfelt, seductive and so much fun!  When you throw in their fighting and that they could be funny without even trying, this book became a favorite so easily.  I swear I smiled from the first page to the last!  Especially since their chemistry was electrifying.  Any moment they touched felt explosive.  And as more happened, this book could be so steamy and hot!  Mix in some matchbox cars and smurfs and this is a story I’ll remember forever.

“Stop calling me Shortcake.” I try to roll onto my side but he presses the heels of his palms lightly against my shoulders. I stop breathing.
“Watching you pretend to hate that nickname is the best part of my day.”

From page one, I was obsessed.  I loved Lucy’s voice and the moment Josh appeared, eeps I was a goner.  If you love enemies to lovers, fabulous banter, emotional moments, and multi faceted characters, then you need this book in your life!  The Hating Game became an instant favorite and I can’t wait to re-read this one down the road!

BOOK REVIEW: The Wolf and the Woodsman by Ava Reid

BOOK REVIEW: The Wolf and the Woodsman by Ava ReidThe Wolf and the Woodsman by Ava Reid
Purchase on: AmazoniBooks
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

View all my reviews

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2024

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑