Author: Stephanie Garber (Page 1 of 3)

The Ballad of Never After (Once Upon a Broken Heart #2)
by Stephanie Garber
Purchase on: Amazon, iBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:

The fiercely-anticipated sequel to the #1 New York Times bestseller Once Upon a Broken Heart, starring Evangeline Fox and the Prince of Hearts on a new journey of magic, mystery, and heartbreak.

Not every love is meant to be.

After Jacks, the Prince of Hearts, betrays her, Evangeline Fox swears she'll never trust him again. Now that she’s discovered her own magic, Evangeline believes she can use it to restore the chance at happily ever after that Jacks stole away.

But when a new terrifying curse is revealed, Evangeline finds herself entering into a tenuous partnership with the Prince of Hearts again. Only this time, the rules have changed. Jacks isn’t the only force Evangeline needs to be wary of. In fact, he might be the only one she can trust, despite her desire to despise him.

Instead of a love spell wreaking havoc on Evangeline’s life, a murderous spell has been cast. To break it, Evangeline and Jacks will have to do battle with old friends, new foes, and a magic that plays with heads and hearts. Evangeline has always trusted her heart, but this time she’s not sure she can. . . .

Jacks shot her a glare.
“Don’t look at me like that. I saw the way you looked when you arrived here with your arm around her shoulders.”
“How did I look?”
“Like you would kill for her.”

So many books come and go in my life that I tend to move on quickly, forget them. Some have lasting power, sure. Some make me pine for them until their respective series are complete, then they disappear from my mind as quickly as a wisp into the wind. Some authors write just well enough I love the books, buy a copy, and obsess for a bit…but years fly by and all of a sudden I can’t remember why I loved it so much at the time. Then there are some authors that have something special that makes their stories sticky like glue, stuck in every fiber of your being with the realization you may remember every. Single. Detail. And every. Single. Character. Until your body has left this earth-the literal day you die.

Evangeline’s heart was still racing, and she wondered now if it wasn’t scared or nervous but if it was just trying to catch up to all the moments before they disappeared-before he disappeared.

And, look, okay-Dramatic much? I don’t know if this series is an ‘I’m obsessed in this moment’ or an ‘I will die with these pages crumbling to dust in my cold dead hands’ type of story…but, currently, it’s sitting pretty high alongside a few favorites I’ve never forgotten a single detail about-and those date back to childhood. So….I don’t know. I truly hope this is in the latter category, because as of right now? I am crumbling, tumbling, disintegrating into a pile of ash as I slowly lose my mind over what this evil. Chaotic. Out to freaking KILL me author has done to my not-so-innocent soul. That’s right. She got me. She got me BLEEPING good.

She knew Jacks was far too dangerous a person to truly fall for. But she could no longer deny that it was happening. She couldn’t deny that she wanted him. Just enough to keep her from pulling away every time he touched her. Enough to keep his name near the tip of her tongue even when he wasn’t in the room.

I’ll admit-again that I went into this Garber novel kind of…ugh…kind of expecting the worst. Again. Again. Again. But listen, hear me out-So many times. So. Many. FREAKING. Times. These authors produce epicccccccc over the top amazzinnnnngggg first works in a series and, being the first book loving kinda gal I am, I fall hard. I fall fast. I fall like clockwork repeatedly, unbearably, incessantly hard. Ask any of my friends-as far as series go, I’m a dreamer. But, over time, I’ve become cynical. Bitter. I don’t trust many authors anymore because yes, they produce well-written novels, but they fail to create that everlasting magic that sings to your soul and rings true to your chaotic heart so that when your mind needs an escape, it doesn’t escape to some other drivel, it escapes to THAT author’s books….and, okay, so SUE me, after being so shocked by Jacks’s first book, I didn’t think it possible that I’d find myself here, obsessed, again. Yet….here we are. HOW. HOW. HOW IN THE WORLD DOES SHE DO IT.

Maybe that was really why she thought she was falling, because the feeling plummeting toward something uncontrollable with nothing but Jacks to hold on to had never actually stopped.

And what we seem to have here is a perfect case of an author creating an absolute SMASH HIT of a series that won so many people over and I think there are like…..10?….different editions. I don’t know-there’s a lot. And yes, I loved them-I did. But I’m a huge believer in third book syndrome. I almost always hate the third book (hey, it used to be the second, but now I’ve come to love the chaos of book twos, so hello fellow book two appreciators) because it’s almost like the author doesn’t know how to fit things into a box neatly to tie of all loose threads, but not make it too easy, contrived, convenient. Too clean. Too neat. And I think that happened with Finale? I loved it, but I didn’t get my big Dante scene, and I’m also super horrible about needing my heroes that still (yes he still had LOADS to prove of himself) aren’t on the complete up and up of deserving our heroines getting their *divine moment* (Arielle, heh heh). This did not happen. And I think….I THINK…this may be why I lost the obsessed bug I felt while reading the series.

Evangeline felt a rush of blood to her ears, yet she could still hear a tiny voice telling her she was about to make a mistake. But what was the mistake-trusting Jacks or running from him?

Now. Here. We have this dude who was an utter JERK in the Caraval trilogy (ie he was our plot device to further Mr. Dante) and just…I didn’t get him. I didn’t get him at. ALLLL. I even remember my bestie texting me so excited and tagging me on this new Garber novel ‘featured in the world of Caraval’ and I just…didn’t care. I went ahead and went through my nerdy ways and ordered every edition possible because okay they were so so SoOoOoO pretty. Why? I’ve got issues. That’s why. And, as I stated in my book one review, I think-deep deep deep deep down-I knew. I knew what this series would come to mean to me. That my blasé attitude would lead to my ultimate demise and why NOT get those pretty editions *just* in case. Yeah. Ha. Anyone who has ever missed out on a Garber series pre-order knows the pain of trying to collect ALLLLL the pretties post publication. Bankrupt, anyone? Yeah. That wasn’t going to happen to this guy, nosiree.

“The answer is no, and it will always be no.”
Jacks crossed his arms and leaned against the bedpost. “If you really think that, then you lack imagination.”
Evangeline bristled. “I do not lack imagination. I merely possess determination.”
“So do I.” Jacks’s eyes flickered with something malevolent. “This is your last chance to change your mind.”
“Or what?” Evangeline asked.
“You’ll really start to hate me.”
“Perhaps I look forward to hating you.”
The corner of Jacks’s poisonous mouth twitched as if the idea vaguely entertained him.

Sigh. So. Why all this craziness? Well, I’ll tell you. Jacks-if you cannot tell-has become (among many other men, (shut up, shh, I don’t care, shhhhhhhhhh)) the center of my universe. And, naturally, Stephanie has made it her personal EFFING mission to rip my soul to shreds. TO LITERALLY OBLITERATE IT into tiny fissures that crack not only my heart, but make sure they bleed to my other organs and crack the bones, too, because why not?? I literally don’t know when or how or WHY this woman has chosen to prolong what I had thought/been told/ assumed was a duology…but she did it without ANYONE (far as I’m aware) knowing and I just…as I watched the percent slowly [not slow at all, actually] dwindle to nothing I knew deep in my ever loving soul that this was either going to be a TERRIBLE ending (which it was) or a TERRIBLE ending CLIFFHANGER that I had to wait (unwittingly) until next year to cease the ache that I call an erratic heartbeat. And…I still….days later….am in a deep, intense fog about what I’m supposed to do with my life because every. Single. Time (how many times am I going to type the same things over, really) I flash back to this book and it’s end I get a flash flood of such intense feelings it takes my breath away, I can’t breathe, and I immediately get a shot of adrenaline to my veins. Frankly it’s both wonderful and absolutely, terribly heartbreaking. Maddening. It’s torture. ABSOLUTE TORTURE because I THOUGHT I WAS ON MY WAY TO THE END BUT SHE SURPRISED ME WITH THE MOST AMAZING CRUEL CLIFFHANGER EVER AND THEY ARE MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE BUT IT SHOCKED ME SO THAT’S A CHEAP SHOT SO HERE WE ARE.

She used to think love was like a house. Once it was built, a person got to live in it forever. But now she wondered if love was more like a war with new foes constantly appearing and battles creeping up. Winning at love was less about succeeding in a battle and more about continuing to fight, to choose the person you loved as the one you were willing to die for, over and over.

I’ll try to calm down so you can read an actual review of the actual book, but I’m sorry-this woman killed me. Anyway. I digress. If anyone follows me at all, or read my first review of OUABH, they would see that-much like this review-I was shocked and living it up in my feels. I said some things-predictions, if you will-that I wanted to happen. I guessed about what Jacks was going to have to go through. How he would fall madly. How he would get jealous-he’s a fate, after all, I said. I stated that there had to be [I needed] some ‘chaos, heartbreak, and destruction’. And…I simply called that this book would be an absolute evil little gem, if I were to generalize it. At least, to make this successful, for ME, it would HAVE to be an evil little monster of a book, because Jacks isn’t your typical morally gray hero (again, I imploringly ask, WHAT EVEN IS JACKS???)-he needs some angst thrown in. Some spice. Some denial. Some mind games…some flare.

Evangeline forced herself to stop beneath the amber glow of a garden lamp shaped like a bowing flower. Cold bit her cheeks and licked her hands, but Jacks didn’t so much as shiver as he strode toward her, indifferent to the bitter air that froze the tips of his hair and lashes. He slid through the icy night like a slow-falling star, all unearthly eyes and graceful moves.

Ha. HAHAHHAHAAH oh you get that. Yeah you get it. You’ll see. And I’ve never quite been both so happy and so mortified to be correct in some of my guesses and predictions. I kid you not, I am NEVER right. So, I guess you could say I read Garber like a book (HAHAH). But she had the last laugh, in the end.

“I hurt everyone, Little Fox. But you have to be alive to hate me.” His eyes iced over. “I do not want you dead, and I’ll kill anyone who tries.”

Much like Jacks, Evangeline adopted some new behaviors, but she was still the same sweet, hopeful girl from book one. And while the naivety was gone, she was a bit TOO on the nose in assuming things one way or another. Yes, this is what you see, but what is the TRUTH, really? Are you actually seeing ALL of the truth…or what someone else wants you to see? And I will admit there were some repetitive moments/ thoughts/ themes…but I just didn’t care because this was nothing short of a magnificent book.

It might have just been all the wine coursing through her, but for a moment, Evangeline didn’t feel as if she were in a ballroom, she felt as if she were in the center of a hundred stories. Love stories and tragedies and tales with endings lost to time. And suddenly, her worries felt lost as well, swept away by a feeling that her life was one of those stories. She’d known it vaguely, but it wasn’t until then that the enormity of it hit her.

And, you know, I was nervous. We covered this. So I was quick to judge the beginning like, alright here we go-predictable. That lasted all of two seconds before I was blown right out of the park with such a freaking CLEVER way to cause strife that I couldn’t help but gasp and clutch my imaginary pearls and simply APPLAUD this beautifully twisted author’s mind as she wove together a story I’d have NEVER thought possible as I read book one. I mean-One-BRAVO. Two-THE SIGNIFICANCE. Three-THE HEARTACHE. Four-the utter ingenuity Five-THE WAY. THIS WOMAN. MAKES EVERY. BOOK COVER. COUNT. I see you, Stephanie. I see you-and I like this evil little flag you fly. I am SO happy you have spread your wings and chosen violence. May you wake up EVERY DAY and aim to wreck my soul. With this writing, I’d follow you ANYWHERE.

“We shouldn’t do this,” she said.
“I’m just asking you to stay the night.” His lips left her neck as he murmured, “You won’t even remember.”
Evangeline tensed in his arms. “What do you mean, I won’t remember?”
“I mean…it’s just one night,” he said softly. “In the morning, you can forget it. You can go back to pretending you don’t like me, and I can pretend that I don’t care. But for tonight, let me pretend you’re mine.”

So, you know….just a few of my thoughts *sarcasm*. If you even made it this far, that is. Look. I know I acted a fool. I know this is typical Chelsea doing typical fangirl OTT stuff…but what is life even about if you can’t flail and obsess and fangirl to your friends, people who read your thoughts, or to anyone who wants to listen that day. I know I exude crazy (that’s fine. It’s fInNnNnNnEeEeE) but I stand by it. If I am clinical, if I am not being crazy-watch: I won’t remember or think about that book come next year. Poof. Forget about it. So, like my long-winded reviews. Or don’t. But know one thing-if I am THAT crazy about a book then I am passionate enough about it that I am willing to put myself out there with all my unbridled, uncensored (I did NOT use the F word excitedly as I would have liked to, but…) thoughts and craziness so that someone, somewhere that MAYBE was on the fence about said novel might give it a try. If I can save one soul from missing out on a book that they would love, then I’ll have done my job and I’ll have done it successfully-and I sleep well at night knowing that.

His words were low and quiet; she wouldn’t have heard them if she hadn’t been so close. And it struck her how intimate words could be, how they could be spoken only once, for only one person, and they would never be heard again, they would disappear like a moment, gone almost as soon as you realized they were there.

*****

NOW THE COVER ARGGHHGDEGDFGF

There is literally nothing else I want to read

***

Can I just, like….have this please?

Please and thank you?

Jacks? PLEASE??