The Demon’s Librarian by Lilith Saintcrow

GOOD LORD is that an awful cover. 

I got this book because I still don’t want to read A Week to Be Wicked by Tessa Dare. Sorry.

Most of you will only have to take a look at the title to see why this book instantly appealed to me. And many of you will be delighted to hear that the main character, Chess, is really a librarian. She has an advanced degree and everything! Whether or not the lead guy, Ryan (or Orion, in case you thought you’d escaped from Paranormal Nameville) is ACTUALLY a demon is up for debate. He is half demon, or DRAKUL. If you’ve seen Bram Stoker’s Dracula 187 times like I have, this name will be familiar. If not, don’t worry. Lilith Saintcrow (don’t you LOVE that name?) packs a lot of exposition into this book.

Unfortunately, said exposition is not exactly seamless. This is one of the few (only?) paranormal romances I’ve read recently that’s not part of a series, and Lilith Saintcrow (I’m just going to type that as many times as possible) has pretty lofty ambitions for a standalone book. There is an Order (there’s always an Order), and different kinds and classes of demons, and people called Maliks who are humans, and Maliks are protected by Drakul. Chess does not QUITE fit into the scheme of things. She discovered a ~*~SECRET LABORATORY~*~ in her library and is doing her best as an amateur demon hunter on her own.

Can you believe how many parenthesis are in this review? I predict more.

I don’t have all that much to say about this book. My two main complaints are that the exposition is a bit clunky, and also this is a romance that’s pretty lacking on the romance. They kiss. That’s it. You will probably find yourself saying “That’s IT?” I’ve read YA books that are more explicit.

All in all, this was not a bad use of my epic train commute, and it’s pretty good if you like books and wish Buffy had read more. I’d be willing to check out more Lilith Saintcrow on the basis of her name alone, but she seems like a decent writer and I’ll keep an eye out for more.

Bitterblue by Kristin Cashore

Oh this is such a lovely book in so many ways. To start, there’s this cover with the attractive keys on it. There’s also an appendix filled with wonderful illustrations and a list of characters by the castle librarian, who basically the best character ever. There’s love, there’s mystery, there’s intrigue, and there’s a big fucking castle where it all takes place. 

Kristin Cashore’s first book, Graceling, is one of my favorite YA novels EVER, and it introduced the character of Bitterblue, who at nine years old becomes the queen of her country (Monsea) when SPOILER ALERT: her insane sadistic father is killed.

Bitterblue follows the now-18-year-old queen through the challenges of trying to be a good monarch to a broken (and barely healing) country, in the midst of lies and deception and mysteries and a past that never really goes away. At night, Bitterblue escapes the drudgery of day-to-day queening (and really, there is a LOT of paperwork involved) by sneaking out and seeing the streets of her city. She meets a boy with purple eyes. He’s pretty awesome. 

This is a stand-alone novel, but I think it is best enjoyed if you read Graceling first, because Po and Katsa are back in a MAJOR way, and you won’t feel the ~*~*~ if you don’t already know them. That said, as much as I loved Graceling, I think Bitterblue is a better book. Bitterblue is far more complex, the writing is stronger (in my opinion - I prefer the florid descriptions of castle life and art to the very sparse and simple style of Graceling, but your mileage may vary). It’s also a pretty long book, which I really appreciated - I waited for over a year to read this book, and I was glad to be able to spend a long time in Bitterblue’s castle, and to visit a lot of new and old characters. 

This book deals a lot with truths and secrets. Cyphers, codes, and keys are all integral to the story. These are all plusses for me, since there’s nothing I love more than a good mystery, particularly if I get to hear the full story in the end. I would be the tuning in every Friday night to watch a Robert Stack in a show called Solved Mysteries. Don’t get me wrong - not everything in this book wraps up neatly or is perfectly resolved, but the big questions are answered. 

Recommended for any and all fans of YA, fantasy, strong female characters, good books. 

The Pleasures Trilogy is not Eloisa James at her best. While they have a certain amount of charm, all three books suffer from that most dreaded of romance tropes: a misunderstanding between the couple that comes about because they are too dumb to talk to each other. 

Also, these covers. Good Lord. 

So, Potent Pleasures features Charlotte Daicheston. A friend convinces her to sneak out and go to a reputation ruining lower class dance, in disguise of course. Charlotte meets a masked stranger and proceeds to be so overcome by pleasure that she has sex with him. It ends abruptly when he realizes she’s a virgin. Her debaucher is Alex Foakes, the oldest of twins and an earl of some such. He and his brother, Patrick, are a bit wild, so they are sent abroad. Alex to the Continent; Patrick to India. Of course, Alex and Charlotte come thisclose to meeting in society before he leaves.

Years pass, Charlotte is now friends with Sophie York. She spends her days painting and her nights reluctantly attending balls. Then she gets Eloisa’s favorite Regency make over: empire waist dresses and short hair. And wouldn’t you know, Alex is back from his travels. Needless to say, Charlotte and Alex reconnect, sparks fly, and there is pleasure aplenty. Charlotte realizes Alex was the masked stranger, but he assumes that she has gotten him mixed up with Patrick. Charlotte does not do much to contradict his belief. Alex behaves like a complete ass, which does not stop him from sexing up Charlotte six ways from Sunday. They have a couple rough patches that could easily be resolved if they would just fracking communicate! Ultimately, it takes Patrick smacking Alex upside the head and Charlotte’s near death to right things. 

Patrick and Sophie take center stage in Midnight Pleasures. Sophie makes the most of being single, collecting a slew of admirers. Thanks to her parents’ disastrous marriage, she determines to marry the dullest peer available. She is smart as a whip and has a knack for languages, which her awful mother tells her to conceal from the world. For his part, Patrick kissed her once and hasn’t stopped thinking of her since. He spent his time abroad working for the foreign office and is roped into a sensitive mission back at home.

Eloisa teases us and makes it seem like they are going to have a grand adventure in Turkey. Sadly, that is not to be. Patrick steals Sophie from her dull fiance and thanks to her mother’s bad advice they have nothing but misunderstanding after misunderstanding. Which of course means minimal sexy times. Boo. Again, open communication would have helped. 

I couldn’t really get into this one, but even so, I found myself genuinely moved and teary eyed when tragedy befalls Patrick and Sophie. They work things out and are closer for it. There is also a sweet B plot with Sophie’s jilted fiance.

Book three brings a secondary character to the fore. Quill Dewland was injured in a riding accident. Although recovered, he is unable to ride horses or ladies without getting the worst migraine ever. So, his father arranges for his younger brother, Peter, to marry the daughter of a man that has leant him money over the years. Quill is immediately taken with clumsy plumb Gabby. Peter not so much. Gabby grew up in India with her eccentric father and is lacking in many of the refinements expected of English ladies. 

Obviously, Quill swoops in and marries Gabby with the expected result: one awesome night followed by three days of hell. Quill refuses to talk about the issue resulting in a ~misunderstanding~ a-freaking-gain. Somehow, Gabby and Quill get roped into some foreign office affair having to do with a missing Indian prince to pass the time since they aren’t constantly pleasuring each other. Gabby finds the time to summon a doctor she knew in India to help her with Quill’s issue. She must resort to subterfuge to help him and nearly ends up dead for her trouble. Quill finally learns to communicate and all is well. 

I like Eloisa James enough to give these books a 3 out of 5. They are fun and light for the most part with a few touching moments. They also drive home how important it is to talk to your partner. Plus, the pleasure parts are quite…hot. 

Thank you, lobstie! 

That, dear friends, is the steampunk vampire hero who manages a traveling circus in a fantasy world.

He is the hero of this paranormal romance novel.

His name is Criminy Stain.

Criminy Stain.

CRIMINY STAIN.

On the Way to the Wedding by Julia Quinn

You guys probably know that I think Julia Quinn is totally overrated. If you didn’t know that, then I have a newsflash: I think that Julia Quinn is totally overrated. Or at least I DID. My change of heart came about after my friend Ali badgered me to read this book, which I did. Then I had several glasses of wine to drown out the horrid baby epilogue. Then I came here. You see, I reserve my best self for you guys. 

Hold on, I’m going to get some ice cream. 

I got some. 

Okay, so the guy in this picture is Gregory Bridgerton. There are a whole lot of Bridgertons, and they go in alphabetical order from Anthony, the oldest, down to Hyacinth, the youngest, and this is the very last book. Since it is the last book, there are a lot of appearances from all the other siblings (although I can’t remember anything about Eustace or Freud or whoever E and F are). But the one we care about is Gregory. Got it? 

The lady is Lady Lucinda Abernathy, and her best friend is the epically hot Hermione Granger Watson. Hermione gets all the dudes. INCLUDING our own Mr. Bridgerton. What a twist, right? 

Lucy decides to help Gregory flirt, since she is already “practically engaged” and you know what I am totally bored with plot summary, let’s move on. 

So my problem with Julia Quinn before was that her romances (okay, let’s be real, I only read one) were totally standard, you know? They (it) weren’t really that funny. I was not impressed. HOWEVER: this book had all the wit and charm I had been expecting. I quite enjoyed it! And, at the end (and this is totally rare): I DID NOT KNOW HOW IT WAS GOING TO RESOLVE ITSELF. It was not immediately obvious! So I quite enjoyed that.

WARNING: This a book that is more sweet than sexy. There’s totally sex, but not a lot of it.  

Side Note: DO ANY OF YOU READ TESSA DARE? I tried to read A Week to be Wicked but I got through literally three pages before I put the book down in disgust. I will try again but I promise nothing.

I also reread this but have not reviewed it, yet: Sloppy Firsts

Next up: MOTHERFUCKING BITTERBLUE IS OUT TOMORROW, Y’ALL!!!!

Apology: sorry, I wrote this under the influence and it’s totally half-assed.

White Oleander, by Janet Fitch

I picked up White Oleander during my first trip to LA last month. One of the friends I was visiting was reading it at the time, and she said “Yeah it’s kind of a bummer but I really enjoy reading it.” And if I had to sum up my whole experience of reading White Oleander, I would probably say that exact thing. Janet Fitch writes beautiful, lyrical prose, but jeeeeeeeeeeesus chips was this a depressing book. Not quite in a “I am going to spend the next three days sobbing” kind of way like Where the Red Fern Grows, or in a “Mankind is utterly doomed” kind of way like 1984, or even a “What the fuck is wrong with this author and why does everybody LIKE this” kind of way like The Velveteen Rabbit. White Oleander is pervasively sad, and there are many times when we are given hope that we know is going to be miserably crushed in the next chapter. However, it ends on a neutral (if not slightly positive) note. 

So, now that you know very specifically how depressing this book is or is not, we can get to a bit of plot summary: Astrid’s mother, Ingrid, is a frighteningly intense poet who goes to prison after murdering her former lover with the poison of the white oleander flower. Like I said, INTENSE. Astrid is bounced through a series of foster homes (all varying levels of depressing) from the time she is 12 until she turns 18.

This is a coming-of-age novel, and one that focuses on the relationships between mothers and daughters, and more specifically on how men ruin the mother-daughter relationship. I think Janet Fitch must have had serious issues with her own father, because male characters with any redeeming qualities are few and far between. In White Oleander, men are cause for obsession, irredeemable selfishness, and almost always betrayal. At one point, Ingrid calls fatherhood a “social construct,” which is a really interesting (but, you know, hideously depressing idea) and there are not many examples in the book that prove her wrong. 

That said, the real villain in the story here is Ingrid, and one of my favorite things about the novel is how Fitch just lets Ingrid be terrifying and evil. She’s brilliant, sure, but you also get the impression that if this were a different kind of book she’d fly around on a broomstick and turn young princes into beasts and throw people off bridges if they didn’t answer her riddle correctly. She’s Medusa and Medea, the best and the worst example of a woman. She’s brilliant, she’s hilarious, and she’s eerily charming and you might want to watch out because she might kill you just because she’s bored and she thinks it might make great material for a poem later. 

Her daughter has a bit of a Bella Swann complex, in that she’s a blank slate and generally mirrors whichever woman happens to be passing through her life at the moment, but it is so, so, sosososososo great to watch her go from being a terrified pre-teen to naive teenager to hardened street rat to survivor to artist. Astrid makes a lot of terrible decisions in the book because of her need for love and acceptance, and each mistake leaves it share of mental (and physical) scars, but she grows. She also doesn’t spend a lot of time beating herself up with regret, which I appreciate. 

This is definitely a book-club type book, in that there’s a lot of heavy ~*~symbolism~*~ and there’s a lot you can talk about in a way that will make you feel very literary and smart. It does indeed have very lush and descriptive writing (think Francesca Lia Block for adults), and some pretty raw emotional depths. Thankfully, it never gets overly sentimental, and those looking for a Big Redemption or a Grand Emotional Speech will be disappointed. It is an excellent read, and I would highly recommend it to any other woman. Even the sad parts are good, I promise. 

The Bride, by Julie Garwood

Some of you may remember that I had an ambitious (for me) TBR list that included two SRS books, and The Hunger Games. It will surprise none of you that I made it through The Hunger Games before I decided that was enough heavy shit and people dying. I decided it was time for some lighter fare, or at least a book that didn’t prominently involve death. Enter The Bride by Julie Garwood and its 172 5-star reviews on Amazon. Because apparently the fanatically positive reviews for Sherrilyn Kenyon have taught me nothing. 

The Bride is a Highlander romance, in which a bonny and spirited English lass is wed to a menacing Highland laird and they learn to love each other in spite of their cultural differences, usually through nonstop newlywed fucking. Handy that kilts provide such easy access! That reminds me - there will be at least one joke about Scottish lairds being naked under their kilts. 

So anyways, the Bonny and Spirited English Lass (TM) in this situation is Jamie. Oh, we’re going to have a little chat about Jamie. Garwood apparently couldn’t settle for just one Spirited English Lass (TM) cliche, so she went for them all. Here’s a list of facts about Jamie: 

• She can read and write
• She speaks perfect Gaelic
• She is an expert physician (the kind who can heal otherwise-fatal wounds with a few crushed leaves and a tincture)
• She can shoot a bow and arrow with incredible accuracy
• She can throw a knife with incredible accuracy
• She rides her spirited horse bareback, with incredible skill
• Her riding skills are so incredible that she frequently stands up while riding her spirited horse bareback
• She can instantly charm even the most stubborn Scottish soldier
• She is constantly saving small children
• She is constantly being saved by her laird husband
• She is flawlessly beautiful (violet eyes, streaming raven hair, etc)
• She single-handedly unites the Highland clans
• I kind of want to punch Jamie by now, don’t you?

She has a couple of token flaws: she has a poor sense of direction, and she’s an insufferable know-it-all (Garwood may not have intended that reaction, now that I think about it). Still, she’s doing pretty good for a woman in 1100! I know suspension of disbelief is important for all novels, but at this point I think the time-traveling nurse from Outlander is a more realistic. 

Her Highland Laird is Alec. Here’s a few facts about Alec:

• He is very big
• He wears kilts
• He gets angry a lot

In the beginning, I was having a lot of fun. Alec and Jamie meet and get married and journey to Scotland, and it’s pretty good! The sex gets going early in the book (Alec sees Jamie bathing, which happens so frequently in romance novels I’m starting to think authors have Frequent Plot Device cards and are cashing in on hotels stays and discounted flights somewhere), and their sparring is fun, if not terribly inventive. 

Then they get to Scotland, and the whole book turns into a mess. I should have known it was coming. It was like going out on a bad date. You know the signs. The dude might order a Zima, or casually mention Ayn Rand. But you don’t REALLY know what you’ve gotten yourself into until you find yourself listening to him tell an obviously-exaggerated story about his spring break trip to Gulf Shores with his main brahs. 

The story gets to be episodic and kind of boring. In one day, Jamie is chased down by a wild boar, saves a small child, is almost burned alive in a cottage (somebody wants her dead or something I don’t even care at this point), and she probably starts a war or whatever (she’s always starting wars). And yeah, that’s STILL boring. There’s too many characters, I kept losing track of the action, and by the end, I started flirting with the other books on my Kindle. 

I have to say, it wasn’t unpleasant. There were a lot of redeeming moments throughout the book, and I even laughed out loud a few times. That said, there are so many talented romance novelists writing great books right now, and you don’t have to spend your time and money on a book that’s “not unpleasant.” 

Go check out Braveheart or Outlander if you need a kilt fix. I’d skip this. 

The Hunger Games Trilogy, by Suzanne Collins

Well, you’ve already got an impression of how I feel about the first book. Since then, I’ve read the other two books and seen the movie, and I feel like we have to get a couple of things out of the way if we’re going to talk about this together: 

1. Peeta Mellark gives me swoony butterflies
2. Since I assume that 99% of you have read these books, I’m not going to really bother so much with the plot description and you can expect mild to heavy spoiler pods throughout. Proceed will caution.  

Let’s start with The Hunger Games itself. It was an amazing read. The writing felt very tight and crisp and there were a few moments, such as when Peeta makes his Big Declaration in the interview and when Katniss steps on the platform to be raised into the arena, that I will never forget. There were wonderful little touches of humor, like Peeta’s bread jokes, and even the stretches where basically nothing happens (you seriously cannot convince me that Katniss nearly dying of dehydration in the arena over many, many pages were necessary) were still tense and exciting. 

Katniss herself reminded me a lot of my two other favorite K-named kick-ass YA heroines: Katsa from Graceling and Karou from Daughter of Smoke and Bone. All three of these girls are tough, they’re smart, and above all, they’re survivors. I want them to start a K-Name Action Girl Club and drive around in a van solving mysteries and fighting crime. 

Peeta’s Everlasting Love for Katniss came across as a bit schlocky, sure. But since I feel that way myself about Peeta, I’m not going to judge him. I know what it’s like to be held in the thrall of a charismatic fictional character.

Eh, we can talk about Gale later. Let’s talk about Catching Fire. 

Here’s where I felt like we started to get in trouble. It became evident to me that Suzanne Collins had a great (if not necessarily original) premise, she wrote it brilliantly, and then … tried to do the same thing for Catching Fire. When we get to the Big Twist in the middle of the second book, that (AND THIS IS A BIG SPOILER) Katniss is going back to the arena, I actually groaned and rolled my eyes. Seriously? That smacks of Plot Device. 

That said, since Collins is so good at writing Hunger Games, the second book was still pretty exciting. The clock arena was fascinating. There was more Peeta. We got to know some of the victors from previous Hunger Games, and that ended up being really satisfying. 

And then came Mockingjay. Oh dear. 

It was a clusterfuck, to say the least. It was bloated out with too many characters. Katniss basically threw a series of fits until the end, I got REALLY tired of the “Katniss thinks she fucked up but ACTUALLY, she really impressed everybody,” and the big speeches were totally hokey and occurred about once a chapter. Collins started to get pretty heavy-handed with the Goosebumps-style cliffhanger chapter endings, and I started rolling my eyes at each one. 

Collin’s writing, in addition to getting sloppy, gets to be tiresome and obvious. Someday, in the future, seventh graders of The Republic of New Breadia will have a field day dissecting Collin’s obvious symbolic names. Katniss is a hardy tuber, Primrose is decorative and useless (you will not convince me otherwise), Gale is enigmatic like the wind, Rue is symbolic of regret, Peeta is warm and delicious and will envelop you like pita bread, President Snow is chilling, and by the time we get to Coin, I’m just like, I GET IT. YOU CAN STOP NOW. There are exhaustive passages that reiterate that Katniss is the Girl on Fire, from the Coal District, which causes a Spark of Hope, which cases a Wave of Fire, which is symbolic of hope, and also she has wings like a bird, and must fly but cannot risk being shot down and seriously, can we fast-forward to more Peeta?

Okay, that was a lot of bitching. I still liked a few things about Mockingjay, and The Hunger Games as a series, and I will put them in a convenient bullet list for you.  

• The relationship between observers and the observed, and the manipluation of media, is obviously a theme through the whole series, but I liked seeing how it worked (and spectacularly failed) on the rebel side.
• There was no Good Side and Bad Side. The Capitol has some really good people, and the rebels have some really bad people. That’s what life is like! 
• Big Ol’ Spoiler: Katniss ends up with Peeta. Gale guessed that Katniss would end up with “whoever she can’t survive without,” and I think her choice was in no small part motivated by a survival instinct. I think that Collins sort of shortchanges Gale’s character in the end, to give us an easy reason to dismiss him, but he was never a real contender in my mind. 
• Katniss spends most of the books trying to save the world and doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on boy trouble. 
• People are profoundly affected by trauma and are never the same afterwards, particularly the Hunger Games victors. You don’t just get over that shit. 

So that’s it. TL;DR: The Hunger Games is a fantastic book. The series starts a steep decline in quality after that, but who are we kidding, you’re going to read them all anyways and probably in record time.