Tag: Horror (Page 2 of 6)

BOOK REVIEW – The Monstrumologist (The Monstrumologist #1) by Rick Yancey

BOOK REVIEW – The Monstrumologist (The Monstrumologist #1) by Rick YanceyThe Monstrumologist (The Monstrumologist #1)
by Rick Yancey
Purchase on: AmazoniBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:

These are the secrets I have kept. This is the trust I never betrayed. But he is dead now and has been for more than forty years, the one who gave me his trust, the one for whom I kept these secrets. The one who saved me . . . and the one who cursed me.

So starts the diary of Will Henry, orphaned assistant to Dr. Pellinore Warthrop, a man with a most unusual specialty: monstrumology, the study of monsters. In his time with the doctor, Will has met many a mysterious late-night visitor, and seen things he never imagined were real. But when a grave robber comes calling in the middle of the night with a gruesome find, he brings with him their most deadly case yet.

A gothic tour de force that explores the darkest heart of man and monster and asks the question: When does man become the very thing he hunts?

If this book was a landscape, it would be the Sahara desert : perhaps beautiful from a distance, but so fucking dry that I wouldn’t want to stay there more than 1 hour. I stopped at 67%, because there’s just so much boredom I can take.

Lack of … interest. What’s the point of this? Oh, here’s a monster. Look, his teeth are in his belly. This is a *insert Latin name to appear clever*. How wonderful. Now, you can eat your porridge, but just so you know, these creatures are invading New Jerusalem. What do you mean you don’t care? SNAP TO, READER! SNAP TO!

I’m sorry but I can’t.

Nothing fucking happens! I don’t care if it’s gross, I mean, I do have an history of disgust with maggots but in all honesty that’s not at all what bothered me here. No. What annoyed the crap out of me is the fact that the plot felt way too simple to interest me, the whole thing punctuated with so many useless and slooooooow scenes that I struggled to keep my eyes open.

Not to mention that far from awakening my interest, the Latin names and other classics references felt somewhat pretentious to me, because they seemed completely out of phase with the simple plot.

Lack of … depth in the characterization. Look, I love darkness. I love morally ambiguous characters. You know I do. Yet if I do like wondering what characters really think and analyzing their actions, in my opinion I haven’t near enough material here to work with : everyone keeps telling me that Warthorpe is complex and multi-layered, but HUH? Really, HUH? To me he’s one dimensional and pretty boring, and don’t get me started about the stiff and repetitive dialogues which consistently failed to convince me.

Moreover, young Will Henry lacked a voice in my opinion. I know what you’re thinking, “what’s her problem? It’s Will’s POV!” except, yes it is but no it’s not. The narrator isn’t 12 years-old Will Henry, but the events are told years after they originally took place. As it is, I know how old Will Henry interprets them, and if his thoughts aren’t (always) uninteresting, by no means do I have any insight about what he was thinking when he was younger. Come on. No 12 years-old would express an opinion in such a way. None.

To me, Warthorpe is pretty dry in his selfish manners and Will Henry acts like a spineless puppy. Please don’t hate me, but I really didn’t see anything else so far.

Lack of … emotions. I don’t mind the lack of romance, and several of my favorite books don’t contain one bit of it. This being said, I need to feel at least ONE emotion – I know, I’m annoying.

What brings me to… the absence of fear. Scary, The Monstrumologist? Monsters don’t scare me. Humans scare me on a daily basis – when I watch the news, when I read, when I talk to random people. Stupidity scares me to death. Clowns do scare me, but only because Stephen King screwed up my childhood. Monsters? Nope. Grossed-out? Maybe, but never scared. This book should have made my heart pound – sadly, it never did.

Anyway – blablabla, I didn’t get it, blablabla, I don’t care is all. So, okay, It’s well-written. Okay. GOOD. Sadly I don’t give a damn if I’m bored to death (it did escape the 1-star rating thanks to it, though).

*shrug*

I’m in the minority though, so don’t let my review prevent you from reading it^^

BOOK REVIEW: The Last Town (Wayward Pines #3) by Blake Crouch

BOOK REVIEW: The Last Town (Wayward Pines #3) by Blake CrouchThe Last Town (Wayward Pines #3)
by Blake Crouch
Purchase on: Amazon
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:

haha nope.

Epic.
Unforgettable.
Gripping.
Intense.
INSANE.

I will come back and read this someday…and it won’t be soon enough.

GAHD I loved this. I wish I could un-read this series so I could go through the epicness again….Thanks, Dark Pup. For real.


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Ethan!!!!! I’ll miss you, ya surly little shit. Until we meet again.

BOOK REVIEW: Wayward (Wayward Pines #2) by Blake Crouch

BOOK REVIEW: Wayward (Wayward Pines #2) by Blake CrouchWayward (Wayward Pines #2)
by Blake Crouch
Purchase on: Amazon
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:

I'll follow Anna's lead here- Don't read blurb

“Hell is coming to you.”

I have so much to say….but don’t I always??? I want to write an amazing, detailed, long review, but that wouldn’t do this series any good, I think. I believe that, while I would LOVE to go on and on and on about all the amazingness that is this series, it would stunt the curiosity I piqued in everyone with my first review of the beginning book. So, I’ll keep it short and sweet with just a few points to make things curiouser and couriouser for everyone that chooses to read this:

All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players. They have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts.

Ethan: Ethan grew so much in this story. In book one, we didn’t know a lot about him, and we didn’t know what kind of guy he really was-What he was made of, if you will. We knew of his tryst, of his adoration for his wife. We knew he was stubborn beyond words…and that his determination, if nothing else, would keep him alive. So, essentially, in this one, we begin to see even more of his cleverness and quick wit, setting in stone his intelligence and willingness to make things right…and the helplessness….don’t forget his reluctance and helplessness. They go hand in hand with this story. Let’s see what he’s made of.

“Do you hear that?” Ethan asked.
“Hear what?”
For five seconds, Ethan was silent on the line. “That’s the sound of me not giving a fuck.”

Atmosphere: The atmosphere, while still eerie, is blown to bits in this one after the big ‘reveal’ of book one. I can’t say it’s as creepy as it was in the first installment, but there was still an underhanded malice that made you question where things were going and how things could possibly get better for the town’s residents. And since I am obsessed with my dear Ethan…this was a big appeal to me, the worrying.

 

For every perfect little town, there’s something ugly underneath. No dream without the nightmare.


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The Writing: Gahd, do I love Crouch’s writing. It’s virtually impossible not to become wholly immersed in this story with his writing style. In book one, sure, I could understand people not loving or being a bit put off about the amazing fragmented sentences (which I loved, if you can’t tell), but I never had a problem with them. In this story, I was so sucked in that I didn’t even notice it-I even picked up a new book because it was released yesterday (9/1) and thought, ‘Wait, this isn’t how you write!’ So, as you can see, I am in love with his writing.
A shiv straight into Ethan’s gut would’ve felt better.
He lost his breath.
Saw the world suddenly through a blur of tears.

Imagery: Beautiful. Vivid. Startling. What more can you ask for?
A millennium without air or light pollution made for pitch-black skies.
The stars didn’t just appear anymore.
They exploded.
Diamonds on black velvet.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

So, as you can see, I’m obsessed. So that’s how I will end this: Read it, don’t read it-that’s your call. But I, my friends, am knee deep, up shit creek, whatever phrase you wana use, in love with this series.

YESTERDAY IS HISTORY.

Obsessed.

TOMORROW IS A MYSTERY.

Obsessed.

TODAY IS A GIFT.

Did I mention I’m obsessed?


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BOOK REVIEW: I Am Not A Serial Killer (John Cleaver #1) by Dan Wells

BOOK REVIEW: I Am Not A Serial Killer (John Cleaver #1) by Dan WellsI Am Not A Serial Killer (John Cleaver #1)
by Dan Wells
Purchase on: AmazoniBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:

John Wayne Cleaver is dangerous, and he knows it.

He's spent his life doing his best not to live up to his potential.

He's obsessed with serial killers, but really doesn't want to become one. So for his own sake, and the safety of those around him, he lives by rigid rules he's written for himself, practicing normal life as if it were a private religion that could save him from damnation.

Dead bodies are normal to John. He likes them, actually. They don't demand or expect the empathy he's unable to offer. Perhaps that's what gives him the objectivity to recognize that there's something different about the body the police have just found behind the Wash-n-Dry Laundromat---and to appreciate what that difference means.

Now, for the first time, John has to confront a danger outside himself, a threat he can't control, a menace to everything and everyone he would love, if only he could.

Dan Wells's debut novel is the first volume of a trilogy that will keep you awake and then haunt your dreams.

 

You are evil, said myself. You are Mr. Monster. You are nothing. You are me.

 

Well well well…what an odd slice of fun this was. Simplistic and understated, this book really doesn’t try to be anything other than what it says it is, making for not only a fun, easy read, but a very touching one, as well. It’s not easy to read about a diagnosed sociopath…well, at least not for the average person. For me? It felt more authentic and real. I became entwined and engrossed with this character in the early stages of the book, making it enjoyable from page one all the way until the end. And then there’s that damn middle part that just…ugh…it was so…ah, fuck it-It made me laugh. Hard.

“So you have coincidental links to two serial killers,” he said. “That’s a little odd, I admit, but I’m still not seeing a cosmic conspiracy against you.”
“My last name is ‘Cleaver,'” I said. “How many people do you know who are named after two serial killers and a murder weapon?”

I mean seriously?? He really went there? You’ve got to be kidding me. And yet….is it odd that, in the end, I kind of loved where this went??? I can now see why some people didn’t like the direction this novel took, but I actually, after my initial shock, LOVED IT! It took a bit, I’ll admit, to get past the absurdity with which this was presented. But let me ask you this: For me, being the type of reader that I am, why wouldn’t I love the fact that this little twist made it all the more perilous? Yeah, it was totally unbelievable. Yeah, it was an odd direction to go. And, yes, it will not be for everyone. But, for whatever reason, I decided I really liked it-Logic be damned.

I think that fire is more alive than we are-brighter, hotter, more sure of itself and where it wants to go. Fire doesn’t settle; fire doesn’t tolerate; fire doesn’t “get by.” Fire does.
Fire is.

I really did have an internal struggle on whether or not I liked what was happening in this one. I wrestled with the idea that, while I am in love with these types of books, this was really dumb. But it comes down to more than that, it comes down to if the positive outweighs the negative…and, for me, it did. And that big positive that made this whole book worth it? Our main character, John.

People scurry around, doing their little jobs and raising their little families and shouting their meaningless emotions to the world, and all the while you just watch from the sidelines, bewildered. This drives some sociopaths to feel superior, as if the whole of humanity were simply animals to be hunted or put down; others feel a hot, jealous rage, desperate to have what they cannot. I simply felt alone, one leaf sitting miles away from a giant, communal pile.

Emotionless, lacking empathy, and a social outcast, John was my favorite type of character, at the moment. Well, I like a little more empathy in my boys, but, hey-You get what I mean. Not without the quirky inner monologue or the twisted humor of the writing would this book have succeeded-of that I’m sure. John would not be a likable character to read about had we not gotten his odd rationalizations of the goings on around him or the way he views human flaws, such as love and loyalty. In a way, he’s broken. He longs to feel something, anything, if only to be like those around him-He can’t even cry. He gets jealous that others have this ability, and that’s why he is so fascinated with serial killers-weird sounding, I know! But, when you feel like you’re on the verge of being one yourself, it only makes sense to latch onto the one connection in this world you are sure is your only like to humanity.

“You’re weird, man,” said Max, taking another bite of his sandwich. “That’s all there is to say. Someday you’re going to kill a whole bunch of people-probably more than ten, because you’re such an overachiever-and then they’re going to have me on TV and ask if I saw this coming, and I’m going to say,’Hell yes, that guy was seriously screwed up.'”
“Then I guess I have to kill you first,” I said.

You heard me right-He thinks he is destined to be a serial killer. And, because of this, he has a set of rules he rigidly follows. And it has worked…until a serial killer comes to town. Every day his ‘monster’ threatens to leak out, to identify with this new murderer-sorry, sorry, not murder…SERIAL KILLER-in town. But when he finds out who is killing, he takes responsibility into his own hands. Who better to find a serial killer…than a destined-to-be serial killer?

“I’ve been clinically diagnosed with sociopathy,” I said. “Do you know what that means?”
“It means you’re a freak,” he said.
“It means that you’re about as important to me as a cardboard box,” I said. “You’re just a thing-a piece of garbage that no one’s thrown away yet. Is that what you want me to say?”
“Shut up,” said Rob. He was still acting tough, but I could see his bluster was starting to fail-he didn’t know what to say.
“The thing about boxes,” I said, “is that you can open them up. Even though they’re completely boring on the outside, there might be something interesting on the inside. So while you’re saying all of these stupid, boring things, I’m imagining what it would be like to cut you open and see what you’ve got in there.”

 

-lol, is it deranged I laughed and loved that?

Stellar, spot-on writing, wicked humor, and absolutely gruesome scenes that make you think deeper about life in general….I really liked this book. And, after looking at book two ratings and reviews, it seems book two is even darker, grittier, better. I cannot wait until I get the time to read book two. Because once John’s exterior cracked? I fell in love with him. I can’t wait to see how he wrestles with his dark side.

BOOK REVIEW: Blood of My Blood (Jasper Dent #3) by Barry Lyga

BOOK REVIEW: Blood of My Blood (Jasper Dent #3) by Barry LygaBlood of My Blood (Jasper Dent #3)
by Barry Lyga
Purchase on: AmazoniBooks
Add to: Goodreads

Synopsis:

Jazz Dent has never been closer to catching his father.

Jazz has been shot and left to die in New York. His girlfriend, Connie, is in the clutches of Jazz's monstrous father, Billy--the world's most notorious serial killer. And his best friend, Howie, is bleeding to death on the floor of Jazz's new home.

Somehow, these three must rise above the horrors and find a way to come together in pursuit of Billy.

But then Jazz crosses a line he's never crossed before, and soon the entire country is wondering: "Like father, like son? Who is the true monster?"

From New York City to the small town of Lobo's Nod, the chase is on, and this time, Jazz is the hunted, not the hunter--while Billy Dent lurks in the shadows.

And beyond Billy? Something much, much worse. Prepare to meet...the Crow King.

From acclaimed author Barry Lyga comes the shocking conclusion to the bestselling I Hunt Killer trilogy.

He [Howie] held out his hands, arms outstretched, ready for the bro hug that would come. 
Instead, Jazz laughed.
The laughter was quick, unexpected, and bright. Jazz dropped the pickax and shovel with an ill-considered clang and leaned against the car as he caught his breath.
Oh, holy hell. He’s lost it. He’s seriously lost it.
“You okay?” he asked as Jazz stooped to pick up the tools.
“I’ve never been okay,” Jazz told him, and walked away.

Holyyy shit…that was a lot of epic in one book. I’m just….at a loss for words. The beginning started out with a bang, and that, I knew, was a certainty going in. But after all the cleaning up that had to be done after that shot in the chest that can only be described as a ‘white-knuckle cliffy’ at the end of the previous installment, I started to get nervous. After all the amazing-I repeat-AMAZING peril from book two, I didn’t see how, even as dire as the circumstances were through the whole novel, this book could be near as good as the last book. But, oh…dear….sweet….Jesus this mother fuckin’ book was everything I could ask for and more. HOLY SHIT I am just astounded by the awesomeness that was this story!!! What and how and why and who and blah blah blah how did he make up this story????? The epicness that jumps off of every page makes a ridiculous fangirl out of me, and for once I just don’t care! I love this book so much it hurts.

What would come next wasn’t a matter of intellect or reason or even mere emotion. It was as basic as biology. It was blood and sinew and brain matter. Raw.

I am so emotionally spent. This series reached deep into my heart, my mind, my soul and pulled out all the things that make up a perfect novel to me. There wasn’t one moment I wasn’t on the edge of my seat. Not one page passed where I didn’t fret over the mental state of Jazz’s mind. I still laughed and I still obsessed, but it was a different kind of obsession. In the previous works, I was fully invested in the crimes-who the killer was, what they were playing at, if Jazz would find the murderer(s) before it was too late, and, most of all, if they’d finally catch up to Jazz as he closed in on their string of killings. Jazz is, was, and forever will be my biggest concern. Always. So, naturally, wouldn’t my obsession grow, expand, adapt when the nature of the story became about Jazz’s sanity, mind, soul, his search for redemption and, most of all, to end Billy Dent’s reign of terror? Of course it would! DUH.

What is like to go looking for your soul, only to learn you never had one to begin with?

Like I’ve said before, this series is character driven-if you don’t connect or care for Jasper, then you likely won’t find much to enjoy about this series. I mean, yeah, there’s the idea that a killer is within grasp at any waking moment and there’s also his palpable love for his girlfriend, Connie, and the strong, everlasting friendship with his best buddy, Howie. Who, by the way, became a favorite character of mine-his loyalty and devotion for his best friend who was slowly losing his mind in his quest to end Billy Dent broke my heart and made reading his POV something I actually looked forward to. But if you don’t at least like Jazz a little, you’re wasting your time. But How dare you, if that becomes the case-ugh, I can’t even imagine a world where people don’t love Jazz. Inconceivable.


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Just sayin’.

“So, now what?”
“Can’t tell you.”
“You wound me.”
“Well, you wound easily.”

-Lmao, Howie and Jazz

Malice, death, truths, lies, betrayals, they go hand in hand with one another. Jasper is about to learn the true identity of the crow king. So many possibilities, so much speculation, but only one possible outcome that can rock you to your core and make both your eyes and stomach bleed. The truth will rip your heart to shreds and make you question, like the main detective in this book, what kind of world we live in. And, let me tell you, the truth isn’t even the part that will make you choke on your own shock-no, what comes after? That’s gut check time.

He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. Was this shock? Was he going into shock? He couldn’t breathe, and his vision had gone blurry.

This book explored not only a deeper side to Jazz, but also the cold, hard truth of what happens when you are done and your body has finally gone on auto-pilot. Shut down. Went into preservation mode. We watch as Howie and Connie do everything they can, which isn’t much, as Jazz slowly descends into madness and let’s his dark side he’s always fought take over. He becomes detached, cold, driven in his desperation to end his father’s life, because he believes it’s his job-it’s his duty and his duty alone-it’s always been him. Father vs. Son. Mano y Mano. Wit, cunning, and all that crazy Billy has taught Jazz as he grew up. But what happens if he succeeds? If he finally lets all the lessons he learned take over when he’s fought them so desperately his whole life? Will that be it? Will he be fulfilled, at peace, able to move on with his life like a normal human being? Or will he slowly become Billy Dent’s successor, the next notorious serial killer….just like Dear old Dad wanted?


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“I think I’ve had enough of your kind of love,” Jazz said, surprising himself that he clenched his jaw tight, tears gathering. “You…you abused me,” he spluttered. “You did horrible things to me. You made me-“

This story explored deep emotional levels I didn’t know it possessed. I had no idea that I would think the last two (MURDEROUS) books would be tame, fluffy, funny, light-hearted compared to this one. But I clearly knew nothing. I will push and push and push people to read this series until I’ve annoyed them beyond comprehension. For that, I’m sorry. But, also, like Jazz, only a little sorry-this series is too good to go unnoticed by so many of my friends-but I’m about to shake everyone up. I will get people to read this. That’s your only warning. Anna, you lovely lovely French vixen-THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS WONDERFULLY HORRIBLE AND ADDICTIVE AND PERILISTIC series. I wear this badge with honor. I will NEVER EVER EVER forget Jazz or this series. Holy book hangover hell, here I come.


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Killers hunt me.

 

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