Tag Archives: Personal Copy

One Grave at a Time – Jeaniene Frost

Publisher’s Summary:
“How do you send a killer to the grave when he’s already dead?

Having narrowly averted an (under)World War, Cat Crawfield wants nothing more than a little downtime with her vampire husband, Bones. Unfortunately, her gift from New Orleans’s voodoo queen just keeps on giving—leading to a personal favor that sends them into battle once again, this time against a villainous spirit.

Centuries ago, Heinrich Kramer was a witch hunter. Now, every All Hallows Eve, he takes physical form to torture innocent women before burning them alive. This year, however, a determined Cat and Bones must risk all to send him back to the other side of eternity—forever. But one wrong step and they’ll be digging their own graves.”

Question: If you had Vlad Tepesh, arguably one of the original bogeymen, on speed dial, why would you go ghost hunting without him? His prone-to-pyro nature would be just what the exorcist ordered, you ask me. Also? My biased self can’t help but think that Vlad would have given One Grave at a Time a much needed shot in the arm.

Sorry-for-the-Tangent: In a not-published-post, I swore off reviewing series books. Once you get to the fourth, fifth, sixth book in the series, it’s hard to find new things to say (and to stay away from spoilers). But when all you’ve been able to sink your teeth into – no pun intended, considering – during the RSTEARS* are series books, and those cobwebs gathering on your blog are starting to make the place look tacky, what can you do but review? …Right? However, something’s got to give, which is why I’m going to pull out my new motto: When in doubt, bullet. So, a pro/con look at One Grave at a Time it is.

Pro:

  • The shift in focus. The vampire politics were getting wearisome, and the ghouls were never my favorite bad guys, so getting a little cozier with the ghosts was actually a good thing.
  • The introduction of a new story arc in the form of a government agent rocking the boat with Cat’s old team. The guy is a class A twerp, which makes him the perfect catalyst for interesting problems. (That said, we just get a taste of this new arc here, which could put my pro in your con category considering all of the unanswered questions left in his wake.)
  • Tyler and Dexter, a medium and his dog, were wonderful additions to the character roster. I hope we haven’t seen the last of them.
  • Denise didn’t get on my nerves. Neither, for that matter, did Cat’s mother. Huh.
  • I finished the book in a day.

Con:

  • NO VLAD.
  • Cat and Bones didn’t feel present in the story. Their relationship, on solid ground for the first time, is wonderful, but their newly mature selves were a bit too mellow for my taste. I don’t want Cat running off half-cocked, and I don’t want Bones finding a new landfill for his erstwhile wife to lodge in, I really don’t. But they felt like muted versions of themselves in this book.
  • Not enough Fabian. He’s a ghost, for crying out loud. And this book was about ghosts. (Although, on the pro side, it looks like he may have gotten himself a ghostly lady love. A Fabian with a crush is an adorable Fabian indeed.)
  • Just to make things clear: NO VLAD.
  • This overall feeling of lackluster…ness. Lacklusterness? Not a word. Sorry. But I couldn’t suppress this ‘meh’ feeling that haunted me – pun intended that time – throughout the entire book.

To wrap up: Not my favorite book in the series – Did I mention? NO VLAD – but I’m still a fan, and not about to get off this particular ride any time soon.

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*RSTEARS=Reading Slump To End All Reading Slumps

Eon – Alison Goodman

Publishers’ Summary:
“Sixteen-year-old Eon has a dream, and a mission. For years, he’s been studying sword-work and magic, toward one end. He and his master hope that he will be chosen as a Dragoneye – an apprentice to one of the twelve energy dragons of good fortune. But Eon has a dangerous secret. He is actually Eona, a sixteen-year-old girl who has been masquerading as a twelve-year-old boy. Females are forbidden to use Dragon Magic; if anyone discovers she has been hiding in plain sight, her death is assured. When Eon’s secret threatens to come to light, she and her allies are plunged into grave danger and a deadly struggle for the Imperial throne. Eon must find the strength and inner power to battle those who want to take her magic . . . and her life.”

For the sake of this introductory paragraph, think of days in terms of dog years. In that respect, it’s been ages since I finished Eon (and its sequel, Eona). Too much time has gone by for me to recapture my immediate reaction to either book, but one thought has stuck: I didn’t love it as much as I anticipated.

Several aspects of the book(s) worked for me: I loved the idea and depiction of the dragons; the political machinations whirring behind the scenes, manipulating and motivating every character that crossed the page, kept the slow and steady pace on track, upping the stakes at each turn; and I heartily appreciated the main antagonist’s palpable menace, his changeable charm, in spite of the too simple reasoning behind his actions. Eon’s world-building was nicely crafted; the setting was refreshing; and the story told in a manner that engaged nearly all of my senses.

My primary sticking point with the books turned out to be Eon/Eona herself. As a general rule, I enjoy reading about deeply human characters, which is exactly what Eon/Eona was. Attempting to navigate a torn, obstacle-ridden inner landscape, the result of a painful, some might say curse-struck childhood, Eon/Eona’s sense of self constantly seemed to stretch like a rubber band that might snap between one decision and the next. Every troubled thought, every defiant action, and the way she bore up under the criticism, hostility and derision cast her way because of her disability, provided plenty of fodder for sympathy and appreciation. Not far into the novel, however, I realized that my appreciation wasn’t transitioning into like; I wasn’t wholly sympathetic to her plight, and some elusive thing was frustrating me. Without being fully invested in her character, the highs and lows she experienced were viewed from a distance; it was like witnessing an earthquake without feeling the tremors. And the side effects didn’t stop there: the romance, which transpired moreso in Eona, and was, I think, purposely understated, didn’t stir me in any real way because I couldn’t connect with one half of the pair. As always, keep in mind that every word of this paragraph is based on a personal reaction, one that is definitely in the minority going on the glowing reviews I read prior to picking up the book.

Why so many readers loved this duology is understandable; I can recognize the books’ merits, despite my feelings (or lack thereof) toward the main protagonist, and agree that the story-telling was strong and ultimately well-done. On that positive note, I will assuredly pick up Alison Goodman’s next offering.

Warprize – Elizabeth Vaughan

Publisher’s Summary:
“Xylara is the Daughter of the Warrior King, Xyron. With her father dead and her incompetent half-brother on the throne, the kingdom is in danger of falling to the warring Firelanders.

Before she was old enough for a marriage-of-alliance, Xylara was trained as a healer. She can’t usurp her brother or negotiate a peace–but she can heal the brave ones injured in battle.

But not only her countrymen are wounded, and Xylara’s conscience won’t let Firelander warriors die when she can do something to save them. She learns their language and their customs and tries to make them as comfortable as possible, despite their prisoner-of-war status.

She never expects that these deeds, done in good faith, would lead to the handsome and mysterious Firelander Warlord demanding her in exchange for a cease-fire. Xylara knows she must trade the life she has always known for the well-being of her people, and so she becomes…Warprize.”

In an attempt to stave off the yearlong bibliorestlessness I’ve been arrested by, I’ve tried to let mood dictate my book choices as much as possible. Several encounters with Warprize – on Amazon, to start, where it garnered excellent reviews – piqued my interest, catching me up in a need to read the book as soon as possible; that lightning strike desire turned into a week dedicated to Elizabeth Vaughan’s Chronicles of the Warlands.

The first thing I feel compelled to say is that, from my perspective, the paranormal romance label on the book’s spine is misleading. Does the series incorporate subtle mystical elements? Yes. The hero’s nomadic people subscribe to shamanic-like beliefs: they draw strength from and pray to the elements, and the dead guide the living. The mysticism is subtle; with one notable exception, anything remotely paranormal happens outside of our heroine Lara’s first person narrative sight and, as a result, the reader’s. Even then, these elements don’t manifest until well into the second book. Point being, if you do not typically read paranormal romances, don’t let the book’s placement in that category put you off. Warprize has the feel of an historical set during the Middle Ages, which is bolstered by events in later books, including an encounter with a plague ridden feudal outpost, and Lara’s reliance on natural remedies.

Regarding Lara’s medical training, it gives her a sense of purpose and a stubborn streak. She will treat anyone who has need of her skills; she is a proactive heroine, willing to do what’s necessary no matter the cost to herself. Keir exhibits typical alpha traits: dominant, protective, and swift to take action. But what he is ultimately trying to do – blend his people with Lara’s so that knowledge and skills might be shared in an effort to see both peoples flourish – betrays his idealistic side. I liked both, just as I did several of the secondary characters, notably Gils (an adorable young boy who shows interest in Lara’s work), Simus (bold, charmingly brash and Keir’s second in command), and Marcus (crusty, fierce, hurting Marcus).

Despite a cultural misunderstanding (which was sparked by a lie), mutual respect and growing affection begins to bind Lara and Keir together, paving the way for their romance. I found myself enjoying the result of that misunderstanding (and actually hoped it would stretch on a bit longer than it did). Strong chemistry and subtle tension ensured that I was with Lara and Keir the whole way. And that, no doubt, is why I immediately jumped to the next book, Warsworn, as soon as this one was done.

Overall, I liked Warprize. It may not make my year end favorites list, but I spent a few pleasant hours with it for company, and sometimes that’s just what you need.

Mariana – Susanna Kearsley

Publisher’s Summary:
“Julia Beckett believes in destiny. When she moves into Greywethers, a beautiful sixteenth-century farmhouse, she suspects that more than coincidence has brought her there. The locals are warm and welcoming, especially the eligible squire of Crofton Hall, yet beneath the ordinariness, Julia senses a haunting sadness about her new home. Then she learns of Mariana, a beautiful young woman who lived there three hundred years ago. It seems history has been waiting for Julia.”

Unfair it may have been, but I held Mariana up to the high standard set by The Winter Sea; I’ve no one to blame but myself for the malcontent that dug in upon finishing the novel. My expectations were unreasonably high, true, but I was aware of that bias and, not wanting to give the second of Kearsley’s books I’ve read short shrift, I read Mariana again. I’m happy to say it improved upon that second reading.

Kearsley’s storytelling is not at issue here; it’s engaging, assured and heartfelt. So it’s not that I wasn’t absorbed, that I ever felt taken by an urge to set the book down; on the contrary, I read it straight through. What inspired my initial disappointment with the book was a feeling of disconnect from the present-day couple. I cannot, however, go into detail because to do so would be to spoil several plot points. I’ll just say this: in The Winter Sea, both couples’ romance engaged my emotions, but Mariana’s resolution didn’t have the same emotional payoff. Initially. That second reading allowed me to see things more clearly, and I found myself more at ease with and satisfied by the ending.

Once again, I enjoyed the characters individually, appreciated the setting’s strong presence in the story, and immediately wanted to jump to another of Kearsley’s books to hold her special brand of magic close a little longer. Her books have moved into my comfort category; I know I’ll go to them when I’m feeling a little low and need a lift. And so, despite my at-first disappointment and that one remaining reservation, I would recommend Mariana to fans of Kearsley’s work, and to anyone who enjoys a story that wraps around you like a warm blanket on a dreary day.

Late Eclipses – Seanan McGuire

Publisher’s Summary:
“Two years ago, October ‘Toby’ Daye believed she could leave the world of Faerie behind. She was wrong. Now she finds herself in the service of Duke Sylvester Torquill, sharing an apartment with her Fetch, and maintaining an odd truce with Tybalt, the local King of Cats. It’s a delicate balance – one that’s shattered when she learns that an old friend is in dire trouble. Lily, Lady of the Tea Gardens, has been struck down by a mysterious, seemingly impossible illness, leaving her fiefdom undefended.

Struggling to find a way to save Lily and her subjects, Toby must confront her own past as an enemy she thought was gone forever raises her head one more: Oleander de Merelands, one of the two people responsible for her fourteen-year exile. But if Oleander’s back, what’s her game? Where is she hiding? And what part does Toby’s mother, Amandine, have to play?

Time is growing short and the stakes are getting higher. For the Queen of Mists has her own agenda, and there are more players in this game than Toby can guess. With everything on the line, she will have to take the ultimate risk to save herself and the people she loves most – because if she can’t find the missing pieces of the puzzle in time, Toby will be forced to make the one choice she never thought she’d have to face again…”

All October Daye, All the Time. Imagine those words in flashing, neon red lights, and pretend I hung them up sign-like on the blog during the month of April. It really was the Seanan McGuire/Toby show around these parts, with reviews of the first three books in the series going up one after the other in an awful rush. And so I put off reviewing Late Eclipses for two reasons: 1. My mind scrabbled for new superlatives to apply and came up blank, and 2. I figured regular readers of the blog may appreciate a breather. A month and a handful of days later, here we are again.

Dazed, I put down Late Eclipses and thought: holybleepthatwasawesome. And then I cringed; One Salt Sea wasn’t – isn’t – coming out for months. Damn.

Why is that such a problem? Well. Toby’s heritage has always been something of a puzzle; piece by piece, it’s begun to come together. In Late Eclipses, the snick of one of the bigger pieces snapping into place reverberates across the last quarter of the book. Which is swell. Except for the avalanche of questions it unleashed. And those piling on top of the numerous wait, does that mean? moments I was already sifting through. Like I said. Damn.

Shortly after I met Toby in Rosemary and Rue, sitting in her car on a magically enhanced stakeout, I admired her. Love took root not long after; it’s a full-blown thing now. For every knock she takes – and this installment’s knocks would make a heavyweight prizefighter proud – Toby finds a way to get back on her feet. She’s not invincible; she sways and stumbles, but she stands when others might fall. In these pages, Toby’s brand of strength and vulnerability found its sweet spot. It’s no great shock that I continue to be a pom-pom wielding, card carrying member of her cheer squad.

But. Forget Toby’s high ranking among my favorite UF heroines. Forget the secondary characters; each one a blinding light in a field of fireflies. And nevermind the bloody fantastic world-building that deepens and enhances the plot in each book. If you’re anything like me, there is one inescapable reason to read this series: Tybalt. King of Cats.

A man who knows when a woman needs to understand the way of things on her own terms, before even she realizes it. A man who doesn’t push, but remains resolute in his protection of her. A man who is outrageously sexy in a million little ways. Someone fetch the smelling salts. In Late Eclipses, the tension between Tybalt and Toby had me strung tighter than a violin string. Bonus: he has a nephew I adore.

As I wait on One Salt Sea, what do I find myself doing? Fretting. Which is to say, if you’re looking for an emotionally engaging series that delivers on every level, look no further.

The series so far, linked to my review:

  1. Rosemary and Rue
  2. A Local Habitation
  3. An Artificial Night
  4. Late Eclipses

Quick Shot: Dragon Bound – Thea Harrison

Publisher’s Summary:
“Half-human and half-wyr, Pia Giovanni spent her life keeping a low profile among the wyrkind and avoiding the continuing conflict between them and their Dark Fae enemies. But after being blackmailed into stealing a coin from the hoard of a dragon, Pia finds herself targeted by one of the most powerful–and passionate—of the Elder Races.

As the most feared and respected of the wyrkind, Dragos Cuelebre cannot believe someone had the audacity to steal from him, much less succeed. And when he catches the thief, Dragos spares her life, claiming her as his own to further explore the desire they’ve ignited in one another.”

You know, it’s been a fair while since I last read a paranormal romance. I guess you could say all of those urban fantasy series I love so much – and my YA addiction, and the random I’ll read this! pattern that has recently emerged – has gotten in the way. It was really quite nice to get back into the PNR world, and Dragon Bound was just the type of make-me-feel-light-hearted kind of read I’ve lately been craving.

Basically, I really liked the world Thea Harrison created in the first of her Elder Races novels. It cuts across an oft written about cross section of creatures – shifters, Fae, vampires – but the story avoids feeling tired or clichéd, which owes something to Dragos, the book’s dragon shifter hero, and Pia’s unique identity. Granted, there are a crop of dragon shifters in PNR these days –Tessa Adam’s Dragon Heat novels and Deborah Cooke’s Dragonfire novels come immediately to mind – but Dragos more than holds his own in the field, reminding me, in certain respects, of Nalini Singh’s Raphael.* He’s all teeth and talons and “Mine!”, which, every now and again, can be just what the book-doctor ordered. Pia had one definite thing going for her: She didn’t get on my nerves. And, yes, that really is saying something. (Too often PNR heroines set my teeth on edge.) Alongside the main characters are a cadre of secondary ones that all standout on their own – particularly and especially Gray and Quentin – who will, I hope, be featured in a book of their own.

All in all, Dragon Bound was highly enjoyable, and I’ll be quick to scoop up the next book in the Elder Races’ series, Storm’s Heart.

  • The review that prompted me to pick this one up sooner rather than later: Smexy Books

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*Dragos’ looooong life removes him from experiencing finer emotions (so he thinks). His approach to anger and violence, however, is casual as it’s an inbred part of his nature that he sees no reason to snuff. The comparison thins after that because Raphael oozes a tangibly lethal, don’t-cross-me vibe that Dragos can’t touch.

Divergent – Veronica Roth

Publisher’s Summary:
“In Beatrice Prior’s dystopian Chicago, society is divided into five factions, each dedicated to the cultivation of a particular virtue—Candor (the honest), Abnegation (the selfless), Dauntless (the brave), Amity (the peaceful), and Erudite (the intelligent). On an appointed day of every year, all sixteen-year-olds must select the faction to which they will devote the rest of their lives. For Beatrice, the decision is between staying with her family and being who she really is—she can’t have both. So she makes a choice that surprises everyone, including herself.

During the highly competitive initiation that follows, Beatrice renames herself Tris and struggles to determine who her friends really are—and where, exactly, a romance with a sometimes fascinating, sometimes infuriating boy fits into the life she’s chosen. But Tris also has a secret, one she’s kept hidden from everyone because she’s been warned it can mean death. And as she discovers a growing conflict that threatens to unravel her seemingly perfect society, she also learns that her secret might help her save those she loves . . . or it might destroy her.”

If much-hyped books were pyramid-stacked bottles in a carnival arcade game, my hit or miss ratio would be about even. (The way I approach the game remains constant: warily, but with a healthy sense of anticipation.) Consigning Divergent’s overwhelmingly positive reviews to the periphery, I began the book with the expectation that it would fall into line as one or the other – a hit or a miss – only to draw up short when, at the end, it defied placement in either category.

The premise of Divergent begs one simple question: If given the same choice as Tris, which faction would you choose? As I read, in the back of my mind, I wrestled with my answer. My inability to claim a faction for my own nails down one of the things I appreciated most in the novel: Despite this dystopian world’s black and white leanings, shades of gray were myriad. Individuals within several of the factions confronted doubts or challenged the faction’s ideals either secretly or overtly; each one responded to manipulation and propaganda in radically opposing ways. Watching the cracks appear and shift further and further apart provided a backdrop of tension and anticipation that appealed to me in a way that in your face action never can. On the whole, the striving for abstract perfection, unreasonable-at-heart world of Divergent numbered among my favorite aspects of the novel.

Where the story stumbled for me is best summed up in two parts: the first focusing on Tris herself and the second on a particular development at novel’s end.

From the beginning, I wanted to rally behind Tris; I wanted to experience her pain and pride, her uncertainty and exhilaration, but felt removed from her instead. That sense of withdrawal had nothing to do with disliking her; Tris was a strong, stubborn heroine who was determined to justify and prove herself. It had nothing to do with her narrative voice, which was uncluttered and honest. But it had everything to do with the fact that her character didn’t engage my emotions. I’d love to be able to provide a reason why, or to give examples to validate that feeling, but I can’t. Tris and I, we just didn’t click.

Regarding that development at the end: you’re going to wonder what I’m nattering on about in this upcoming paragraph. I can’t tell you. In the words of Doctor Who’s River Song: “Spoiler.” Bear with me (and for those of you who’ve read the novel, you’ll likely identify what I’m referencing. I hope.) On one hand, there was a great deal to appreciate about the ending, namely that it showed considerable plot advancement. The cliffhanger was marginal, barely even worthy of the title, which is refreshing in the first of a trilogy. But there was one interaction at the very end that felt…rushed. That was, to my mind, somewhat out of place. Not unreasonably so; not enough to make me cringe or want to toss the book. Just enough to take the oomph out of one of the story arcs, though I’m likely in the minority with that opinion.

There’s plenty more to say – like that Tris’ initiation into her faction, which accounts for the majority of the novel’s page count, kept my interest for all that it felt like a familiar, tired plot-friend – but why? When it comes down to it, I won’t hesitate to pick up the second in the trilogy, and perhaps that’s all that really needed to be said.

Downside Ghosts Series – Stacia Kane

Unholy Ghosts Publisher’s Summary
“The world is not the way it was. The dead have risen, and the living are under attack. The powerful Church of Real Truth, in charge since the government fell, has sworn to reimburse citizens being harassed by the deceased. Enter Chess Putnam, a fully tattooed witch and freewheeling ghost hunter. She’s got a real talent for banishing the wicked dead. But Chess is keeping a dark secret: She owes a lot of money to a murderous drug lord named Bump, who wants immediate payback in the form of a dangerous job that involves black magic, human sacrifice, a nefarious demonic creature, and enough wicked energy to wipe out a city of souls. Toss in lust for a rival gang leader and a dangerous attraction to Bump’s ruthless enforcer, and Chess begins to wonder if the rush is really worth it. Hell, yeah.”

The first steady Chess Putnam-shaped blip on my radar appeared while reading Michelle’s review of Unholy Ghosts. Prior to that, I vaguely recall considering this series, but it stalled at the maybe, perhaps later stage. Michelle’s reaction – to the three books that comprise the series to date actually, and I’m very thankful for having read what she had to say about all of the books, spoilers be damned, before taking the plunge – moved me to action. With the three books at hand, I settled in, ready and eager for something dark and decidedly different.

Chess is a drug addict. Her need for drugs – uppers, downers; smoked or swallowed – colors her decisions, walks her down a deceitful path, and determines who her “friends” are. The mistakes she makes, now, those can be laid at addiction’s door too, but it’s her past, traumatic and dogging each step she takes, that really corners the market on her innumerable – and occasionally downright cringe-worthy – aberrations. But there is a balance, and it comes in the form of a deep, true loyalty and love for her job as a Church sanctioned witch, responsible for debunking or exorcising ghosts from houses, businesses, and people’s lives. Whether or not Chess is sympathetic, or even likable, is up to the individual reader, and I’ve seen it go both ways, but I found her uniquely complicated, and her self-doubting struggle to survive was hook enough to keep me reading.

But the sun? It rose and set on Terrible. Thug. Enforcer. Brute squad. Terrible earned his name – and his place in drug pusher and lousy interior decorator Bump’s gang – with big, hard fists, methodical violence, and anything but idle threats. His scars, his rough-hewn, Neanderthal-reminiscent face, shut him out of the urban fantasy pretty boy pack. But one thing is certain: Terrible is all kinds of awesome. And that is key knowledge to have because as the summary suggests, Terrible is one of Chess’s love interests. I quite literally yearned for his appearance, devoured any scene that nudged them together in any fashion. Why? Because his reaction to Chess was anomalous. But on that point my lips are sealed, I won’t give up any details or instances, because Terrible is something of an experience. And, for me, he was one of the sweetest, most unexpected elements of the entire series.

At this point I could nod sagely and assure you that when it comes to character, that’s all you need to know. From my perspective, that’s true. I could have read an entire novel consisting solely of Chess and Terrible conversing. And kissing. But for brevity’s sake – which is a laugh because this is turning into quite the epic and I still have a ways to go – I’ll say no more about character except to point out that no one shoots rainbows from their trigger finger, cavorts with cute liddle puppies, or helps grandmother cross the street. These are tough people, pushing their own agendas; cheating, stealing, or clawing to hold their place and scrape by.

When I began reading Unholy Ghosts, the first thing that smacked me in the face wasn’t the magic system, or the pervasively dark atmosphere, but the dialect. It’s like an older, dirtied up Huck Finn taught the inhabitants of Triumph City to speak even more grammatically incorrect than he did on his best day. It’s not that hard to understand; just don’t beat yourself up – or be surprised – if you have to read an incomplete sentence twice to get its meaning. (There are exceptions: those who operate in or around the Church have a solid grasp on “proper” English.) The dialect is gritty, feels true to character, and is just one example of how thoroughly Stacia Kane built this world.

Unholy Ghosts is a strong introduction, which is a good thing because the second book, Unholy Magic, is going to punch you in the face and leave you to bleed in a foul-smelling puddle of mixed origin on the street.

Unholy Magic Publisher’s Summary
“For Chess Putnam, finding herself near-fatally poisoned by a con psychic and then stopping a murderous ghost is just another day on the job. As an agent of the Church of Real Truth, Chess must expose those looking to profit from the world’s unpleasant little poltergeist problem—humans filing false claims of hauntings—all while staving off any undead who really are looking for a kill. But Chess has been extra busy these days, coping with a new “celebrity” assignment while trying on her own time to help some desperate prostitutes.

Someone’s taking out the hookers of Downside in the most gruesome way, and Chess is sure the rumors that it’s the work of a ghost are way off base. But proving herself right means walking in the path of a maniac, not to mention standing between the two men in her life just as they—along with their ruthless employers—are moving closer to a catastrophic showdown. Someone is dealing in murder, sex, and the supernatural, and once again Chess finds herself right in the crossfire.”

Each book has its own mystery thread, or threads as the case might be, that Chess must unravel to live – and to get high or zone out – another day. Due to the often dank, decrepit, or questionable setting and the anti-hero, live by your own code character of the people that populate the streets, I found myself applying a noir-ish sensibility to Chess’s sleuthing. The almost indescribable tenor of noir novels has always fit me like a glove, and applying it to this series was a great help because, I won’t lie, there were moments when the mystery-solving dragged on the plot and slowed the pace. Enough to make your eye want to wander to the corner, catching a glimpse of another book sitting there on the coffee table, sofa arm, or book shelf, but not enough to make you – me – actually put it down. When that happened, I visualized everything in black and white, threw a rumpled trench coat that Chess wouldn’t own over her shoulders, and kept on. It worked.

But at this point, what did it matter? I wasn’t reading for the mystery, or the genuinely interesting bits of ghost lore and magic, or to see what garish design choice Bump was going to inflict on the world next. I was living for Chess and Terrible. Having read Michelle’s review, I was prepared to be worked over by what transpires between them in Unholy Ghosts.

Riiiight.

And that’s why I needed City of Ghosts in my hands, being pored over by my eyes at an unholy rate of speed, as soon as I put Unholy Ghosts down.

City of Ghosts Publisher’s Summary
“Chess Putnam has a lot on her plate. Mangled human corpses have started to show up on the streets of Downside, and Chess’s bosses at the Church of Real Truth have ordered her to team up with the ultra-powerful Black Squad agency to crack the grisly case.

Chess is under a binding spell that threatens death if she talks about the investigation, but the city’s most notorious crime boss—and Chess’s drug dealer—gets wind of her new assignment and insists on being kept informed. If that isn’t bad enough, a sinister street vendor appears to have information Chess needs. Only he’s not telling what he knows, or what it all has to do with the vast underground City of Eternity.

Now Chess will have to navigate killer wraiths, First Elders, and a lot of seriously nasty magic—all while coping with some not-so-small issues of her own. And the only man Chess can trust to help her through it all has every reason to want her dead.”

Pushing through the backlash that whips through City of Ghosts is hard, this side of painful. But there’s a definite payoff.

First, there is genuine, honest-to-goodness character development going on. Chess is cognizant of a few hefty mistakes she made; instead of ducking her head in the sand, or zoning out the pain until she can’t think, she untangles the motivation behind her decisions, stiffens her spine and opts to do something about it. Parcel out that sentence into individual actions and, forgetting the rest, just one was a momentous step for Chess.

The mystery in this installment was solid, complete with red herrings, and a nice if somewhat predictable twist. Chess’s work for the Church is more defined, her past is laid out like a three quarters complete deck of cards, and the reader finally gets a strong sense of just what Chess is capable of. Her potential.

And then there’s Terrible. To quote Chess, “Words were inadequate.” But I’ve got three anyway: He’s worth it.

This series may not be for everyone. It’s not light or fluffy or even always entertaining. Sometimes it’s hard and sluggish. But I’m glad I read it, and think I may have the tiniest inkling how Chess felt without her pills as I wait on the release of Sacrificial Magic.

The Winter Sea – Susanna Kearsley

Publisher’s Summary:
“In the spring of 1708, an invading Jacobite fleet of French and Scottish soldiers nearly succeeded in landing the exiled James Stewart in Scotland to reclaim his crown.

Now, Carrie McClelland hopes to turn that story into her next bestselling novel. Settling herself in the shadow of Slains Castle, she creates a heroine named for one of her own ancestors and starts to write.

But when she discovers her novel is more fact than fiction, Carrie wonders if she might be dealing with ancestral memory, making her the only living person who knows the truth-the ultimate betrayal-that happened all those years ago, and that knowledge comes very close to destroying her…”

I finished The Winter Sea weeks ago. Each day since has borne the touch of my enjoyment of the story, be it a scene unraveling in my mind, or my hands reaching for the book once more so that I might wrap myself up in bits of dialogue or description. For having immensely enjoyed, revisited, and thought about The Winter Sea, you might imagine writing about it would come easily. If only that were true.

There is a reason why, looking at this not-quite blank post template, I hardly know how to continue: I’m trying to view a story that swept me off my feet analytically. I’ve been attempting to approach this review as if the story was a wall I needed to break apart, explaining the strength of each brick as it comes down. Impossible. For the length of time you spend reading The Winter Sea, it is all encompassing.

Rather than try to force it, I’ll simply add my recommendation to Angie’s (her review captures the essence of all that is wonderful about The Winter Sea), and urge you to seek out a copy so you might see for yourself.

Ghost Town – Rachel Caine

Publisher’s Summary:
“While developing a new system to maintain the town’s defenses, genius student Claire Danvers discovers a way to use the vampires’ powers to keep outsiders from spreading news of Morganville’s “unique” situation.

But when people in town start forgetting who they are-including the vampires-Claire has to figure out how to pull the plug on her experiment before she forgets how to save herself…and Morganville.”

After the first eight books in the Morganville Vampires series, two things remained true: 1. Its high ranking among my favorite young adult urban fantasy series didn’t budge, and 2. It continued to please with quality story-telling, fast pacing, and consistently good plot advancements. Moving into Ghost Town, the series’ ninth installment, my enjoyment didn’t dim so much as my reading took a critical turn.

From where I sit, the strongest selling point of this series has always been the four foundation characters: Claire, Shane, Eve and Michael. Defined by distinct personalities and identifying traits, each is comfortingly familiar, an old friend; for the very first time I found that familiarity chafing. To be clear: I adore the dynamic of their friendship; I love the romantic relationships and how the pairings make the group stronger as a unit. If either aspect were to change, I would be upset. But when it comes to character development, they’ve…stagnated. Each is locked into a specific role that’s been set on repeat for eight novels. But that actually, and perhaps surprisingly, is not where my frustration lies.

What has begun to bother me is the fact that Claire, Shane, Eve and Michael struggle and fight, and they prevail – for the most part – in each book, but only ever gain tenuous ground. Recent installments have seen a bleak tone settle in, which makes me wonder: Is peace and lasting happiness possible for them? The group appears to be resigned to their fate: being threatened is nothing new, and they’ve long since adapted to looking over their shoulders. But as a reader who has come to care about them, I’m not. I’d like to see the ground they gain after each victory – however small – begin to mean something.

Another first: the narrative voice took a step back with minor inconsistencies and annoying parenthetical asides. I’ll start with the latter and an example:

“Mom wasn’t in the bathroom, but Claire was relieved (no pun intended) to get there anyway.”

The following example illustrates both points:

 “…she didn’t know what good it was going to do her to know Amelie had once filed a complaint against a man who owned a dry-goods store (what was a dry-good store?) for cheating the human customers.”

Claire – smart, quick on the uptake, early college enrollment Claire – was suddenly asking what a miasma was and had no clue what a dry-goods store might be. Because of who she is – and what she is continuously asked to do – for either of those things to catch her up is too hard to swallow. And each time I encountered an aside, I wondered why it was there as there never seemed to be relevance attached to it.

My reading experience wasn’t all doom and gloom, though. Myrnin, in all of his delicious, unstable glory, was a key player once again, and lit up every scene he was in. He is quickly climbing the rungs to be one of my favorite vampire characters in fiction. There was an interesting development (or two) between Amelie and Oliver. And there’s always Shane, who never fails to please.

Ghost Town was good if not great, and was as quickly read as all the rest. The premise of Bite Club, however, which looks to introduce a change of plot pace, has ensured my anticipation for its release next month.