A really cute and sassy voice tells this middle-grade superhero-story for girls. But sadly I lost interest around the middle and now finally let it goA really cute and sassy voice tells this middle-grade superhero-story for girls. But sadly I lost interest around the middle and now finally let it go....more
“I quieted my trembling hands, swallowed to wet my dry throat, and cursed myself for becoming so ridiculously agitated at the sight of him. Perhaps Dr“I quieted my trembling hands, swallowed to wet my dry throat, and cursed myself for becoming so ridiculously agitated at the sight of him. Perhaps Dr. Bennett would be better for this task.“ How right you are, you insufferable wench. For Dr. Bennett would not inform us on each and every page how aroused he became while watching the recently infected "specimen", homeless Whitechapel grave robber Nathaniel Strider, who would turn into a people-eating, brainless werewolf within a month and who would have to be shot down, if a cure was not discovered before the expected transformation. He would not make unseemly squeaky noises from his hidey hole, because he was jealous of all the kissing and shoulder-freeing and into-lap-pulling and groping, which the young rakish lad he was sent to lure into the scientific lab, was applying to giggling, rose-cheeked girls and buxom matrons in dark alleys, ale houses, doorways and behhind market stalls. And certainly he would not have come to the conclusion that the reason for Nathaniel being such a magnet to the „bevy of enthusiastic girls he had waiting for him around every corner“ is not to be found in his lazy smile, his brown eyes, his shiny, black hair or his shirt-stainingly broad torso, but in his kindness towards those even less fortunate than him: Our heroine, Camille, is overcome by an apple-sized lump in her throat when she witnesses her werewolf to be press a freshly stolen apple into the gnarly hands of a misable, old beggar, who promptly „lifted her bloodshot eyes in a silent thank you“.
Seriously. The first 25%, which is all I managed to consume of this low-priced, self-published paranormal histo-romance for young adults, do not offer much more than the heroine, whose father turned werewolf, too, and had to be taken down by his best friend – now Camille’s guardian –, the renowned scientist Dr. John Bennett, „who had read every science book written and even wrote a few himself“ (definitely not possible even 150 years ago), shadowing her prey in a boy’s disguise while drooling all over herself and breaking the „rule“ of not forming an attachment to one of the „specimen“.
What annoyed me on the side was that the author is so sloppy in her choice of vocabulary. For instance, it is never said when Camille is supposed to take place, but the descriptions of every day life in the novel’s version of London strongly suggest some time during the rather long Victorian era. And the combination of gruesome deaths with the Whitechapel setting wave the Jack-the-Ripper-flag at the reader with ferocity. But it is clear that the story takes place before Britain entered the EU and that means usering „meters“ to describe a distance is simply a big no-no.
As you surely already can guess I do not recommend picking up Camille, but I can point out alternatives if you are still reluctant to let go of the idea to read it: - If you do enjoy virgin turn-of-the-century girls spying on a how a womanizer ravishes a couple of ladies from behind a curtain or through a keyhole or whatever barely keeping herself from tuning into their harmonized moans, I recommend trying the Francesca Cahill series by B.D. Joyce. Although slightly silly at times, too, High Society sleutheress Francesca at least has a motive for peeping excessively. - If it is the gory graveyard feel of Victorian monster hunter stories you are after, you might be better off with chosing The Monstrumologist by Rick Yancey. The scientist-orphan-team of that one knows how to turn your stomach inside out without having someone writhe in their panties. - And if you are into Jack the Ripper retellings with a supernatural twist, I believe that Maureen Johnson’s The Name of the Star is quite popular among the paranormal YA crowd.
If you still are convinced you must experience Camille yourself, I cannot keep you from doing it and I do not feel entitled to use brute force to try, for I have only read a quarter of the book after all and miraclous turns around the 50% mark are not unheard of. ...more
The 10% I managed to cover were pretty long and messy. So let's pretend I almost read it all. It couldn't get worse anyhow writing-wise and character-The 10% I managed to cover were pretty long and messy. So let's pretend I almost read it all. It couldn't get worse anyhow writing-wise and character-wise... and setting-wise, really....more
Meh-eh. Not my kind of heroine, not my kind of mystery (What is going on exactly?), not my kind of youth slang, not my kind of snottiness, not my kindMeh-eh. Not my kind of heroine, not my kind of mystery (What is going on exactly?), not my kind of youth slang, not my kind of snottiness, not my kind of book. I'll stop after mere 15% and forget about it quickly.
And ... I know reading excerpts would be the sensible thing, but I cannot get myself to do it most of the time. Either I plunge into a book with the hope of a beautiful ride through a new story or I don't. Testing something with a road-stop in view is no real option. Especially since I usually do not read a freshly acquired book at once. And that always means: Back to square one....more
*** Oh, yes! There will be plenty of spoilers. *** But first, let’s have an authentic taste of the story: "'I'm Shayne. Remember?' [...] 'We've been s*** Oh, yes! There will be plenty of spoilers. *** But first, let’s have an authentic taste of the story: "'I'm Shayne. Remember?' [...] 'We've been sitting by each other all year,' he says. I glance around the room and notice half the girls in the class staring at him. But he either doesn't notice them or doesn’t care. It’s like he only has eyes for me." ... and ... "'I would do anything for you, Piper. Anything you want'. Reese won't take his eyes off me. 'If I can’t have you, it'll kill me.' My mind tells me this is not the standard first date conversation." ... and ... "Tanni tightens the grip on my wrist. 'Only you can stop Global Warming, Piper.'"
When someone not so content with my uncommented one-star-rating accused me of being a jealous wannabe writer (it's true that I am still mourning the inexplicable disappearance of my masterwork, a novel in verse about flowers and blood-red rain composed and illustrated when I was three), an author basher (I have no reason to assume that P.J. Hoover is anything but perfectly nice) and an altogether horrible person in general (well, maybe, but I do love books and fluffy kittens), I noticed that I had promised to bash this very book a long time ago. I will to proceed to do so, and I have to emphasize, that my view on fiction is a very personal one and reflects only my very own taste in novels.
When I started reading the low-price e-version of Solstice, I had not read a single review and knew only what the Amazon blurb told me about it: I would be facing paranormally tinted dystopian young adult fiction about global warming, parallel worlds, triangle romances and a girl who has the power to change things. Well. Apart from the triangle hair in the broth I felt optimistic and thought: Mrs. Hoover, bring it on. And in the beginning she did bring it on. The setting in fact kindled my interest:
High School senior Piper lives an almost normal life in Austin, Texas. It’s approximately the middle of the 21st century and exactly 18 years after the official beginning of the GHC (Global Heating Crisis) had been proclaimed. Whereas the remaining population of the African continent has relocated to underground settlements, the Americans still try to survive on the surface. They spray themselves with heat-regulating gels, have a good, working emergency-shelter-system for smaller heat waves and large steel beams that support the growths of protein-based, glass-like domes, which keep whole cities under the lethal temperature level for days when necessary. Piper’s mother is a unhealthily clingy control freak, who calls in the middle of random lessons to keep tabs on her daughter’s whereabouts and safety. Piper herself has a "green thumb" – plants bloom and burst with seed like mad around her -, which is convenient since a lot of plants have gone almost extinct, plants in general struggle to thrive, and Piper’s mom makes as living by selling herbs and other rare vegetative stuff via mail-order – although she keeps moving herself and her daughter and her huge, tree-filled greenhouse "Botanical Haven" from place to place in order to avoid getting caught by Piper’s dad, a supposed eco-terrorist.
You might have noticed: By now we have crossed the barrier between a believable climate apocalypse and "paranormal-as-usual". After that all brakes fail and the novel runs full throttle into a superhuman-double-instant-love sequel of the Persephone myth featuring reincarnated and remodelled Greek gods: Piper opens a mysterious wooden box and releases a secret and slowly tickling, forgotten memories, two new, irresistible guys appear at school and fight successfully for Piper’s attention, strange women try to warn Piper concerning her fate as the planet’s savioress, people die, people resurrect, and Piper makes the occasional trip to the underworld.
I have to admit, the times Piper aka Perserphone explores Tartarus, Elysion and the Asphodel Meadows are actually rather vividly depicted and tickle the reader’s imagination the right way. If the author had written a non-anachronistic retelling, I possibly would have enjoyed it as much as Radiant Darkness, for example.
But, alas, the dystopian rehash included three major obstacles that made me passionately despise the novel as a whole: A) a set of intolerably obnoxious main characters, B) a web of gross, unhealthy and destructive interpersonal relationships sold as friendship, love or motherly care and C) the dirty – but admittedly elegant – trick of excusing the looming, manmade climate catastrophe as the reversible result of a personal feud between deities. The latter is, to me, an absolute, fat no-no in a work of teen-targeted fiction, because getting rid of our guilt and our environmental responsibility is an attractive idea which should never gain the slightest foothold in our minds.
A) A Spot in My Top-5-List of Disgustingly Weak Heroines Piper is a very self-centered, whiny girl, who likes to sulk and to disregard urgent warnings. Other people’s happiness means very little to her when her own comfort is challenged. In addition, she is too stupid to understand that the souls living a tormented never-ending afterlife in Tartarus would actually have the means and the motivation to seriously harm her – her, the wife of the person responsible for their damnation. On top of that she is the shining poster child for a double-standard-girl: While she doesn’t muster the slightest hint of guilt after going on dates and indulging in heavy petting-orgies with her best-friend Chloe's crush Reese/Ares, because she had been seduced into wanting him by his superhuman pheromones, she is willing to resume her relationship to 'soulmate' Shayne only after the rumors about his supposed infidelity during the 18 lonely years, which she spent as a child who had no recollection of her real identity, prove to be unfounded. Piper’s mother Demeter is a frightening maniac. Spare love interest Reese/Ares is a jerk so mean, slimy, manipulative, condescending and vile that the heroes of Obsidian, Hush, Hush and Evermore appear harmlessly angelic in comparison to him. Shayne/Hades is the good guy, but oh so proud, bland and colorless. My pretty elastic imagination could not stretch far enough to imagine the combo of uncharismatic Shayne and spineless Piper deciding every single soul’s eternal future, being busy having sex or overseeing sand castle competitions in the Elysian Fields in between.
B) In the Name of Love and Friendship My guess is that it is pretty impossible to transport the strange behavior, the exaggerated emotions and the dysfunctional relationships which are the norm in Greek mythology into a modern day setting. I snickered, when I consumed the rather ridiculous effort Starcrossed, but failed to see anything funny in Solstice. Here every relationship is founded on pure selfishness, but has the gall to call itself love or friendship. Demeter just wants to be always and forever with her daughter instead of just during the summers as had been negotiated with Zeus. The reason is not clear and not relevant. She risks her daughter’s life and the survival of a whole planet to reach her goal and she even stages the prerequisites for Piper’s rape by Reese to ensure that she gets what she wants; her daughter's unhappiness or her daughter's wish to be with her husband are completely inconsequential to her. Piper delays her best friend’s death because she herself would be lonely without her although she is told that Chloe's shot at receiving a place in paradise (Elysion) will be gone afterwards. Reese is one of those guys who are perfectly charming on the outside, but ruthless, unconcerned and violent behind closed doors. He manipulates his victim by magical pheromones and does not accept refusal. He says things like "I swear I'm in love with you" or "I’ll never stop. You are everything to me" and forces himself on Piper, who is a bit puzzled, but again and again flattered, thrilled and turned on. While the sexual encounter with Shayne is covered by the vague phrase "I’m with Shayne then and it’s wonderful", the kissing and the incidents of almost-sex with Reese amount to the romantic highlights of the novel. Everyone demands eternal commitment from Piper. Even 'soulmate' Shayne. I cannot say how many times I have read sentences like "Promise you’ll never leave me." In Solstice love is a concept firmly intertwined with the idea of possession instead of all the good things I would like it to represent. And I wondered how somebody like Persephone, who has a painful history of being bossed around by her mother and being imprisoned in her garden, is willing to give her word without hesitation. Still, the worst blow to me was Piper’s dad Zeus who tried to coax his daughter into finally giving in to Reese's/Ares' advances. Why didn’t she mate with her half-brother although he had lusted after her since the moment she was born? And if she wasn’t interested there was another handful of sons to choose from in the family. The term incest is never ever mentioned, not even by the conventionally brought up Piper.
C) Demeter’s Everlasting Summer Blues I had already mentioned the "clever twist": Demeter managed to create uninterrupted summer in order to keep her daughter by her side and hid her from Zeus and Hades by burning and resurrecting her and by locking away her memories in a wooden box. And voilá: Humanity has a climate crisis to deal with. Usually I would be willing to applaud creativity regardless if the outcome was believable or not. But nowadays there are in fact people who deny that the melting polar caps are caused by our blatant abuse of the planet’s ressources. That makes me furious. Certainly, believing in fate or in inevitable warm periods and ice ages is much easier than the decision to change the way of things. Letting some gods take the blame suggests resuming blissful passivity. Especially, since these gods can make the problem disappear with a flick of their fingers. Maybe I am obstinate, maybe I sound like a party pooper. Yet, in my eyes this is not acceptable.
I do not recommend this book. But if you – unlike me - are addicted to stories featuring manipulative jerks, guy-dependent heroines, love triangles, utterly strange parents and horrible paranormal solutions to realistic problems, gorge yourself. You have the right to read what pleases you, not me. ...more
I think, I have two and a half things to say as the selfpublished, paranormal YA romance 'Remembrance' and its half-eaten (I actually swallowed only 1I think, I have two and a half things to say as the selfpublished, paranormal YA romance 'Remembrance' and its half-eaten (I actually swallowed only 15% and regurgitated them for quotes and evidence) and dejected state on my plate is concerned:
1) The moment my eyes met with his, the other students in the room blurred into the background. [...] A spark of electricity shot up my arm. Part of my dislike/boredom/urge to ridicule is probably at least partly not the book's fault. The author published it in 2011 riding the last waves of the post-Bella-and-Eddie-afterglow, without realising, that it takes more than one random insecure, normal or unconsciously special girl and one random hot, paranormal-secret-with-a-growl-or-a-smirk to have readers melt at your feet in ecstasy. And here I was, three years later, trying to enjoy the - unspectacular in the first place but rancid by now - exhibition of a recipe that to the unsuspecting aspiring novelist looked foolproofily yummy. Drew is not even of the usual inconsiderate sort. He acts aloof in front of the heroine's classmates - inspiring all sorts of female want and male territory markings - but encourages the heroine to value her talents more, to demand being treated well and to wake up that paranormal spark, remembrance, memory, power, whatever that is hidden within her and is connected to him by fate, of course. Well. Good for him.
2) He accelerated the car more. “Relax, Liz. I’s time you ?got over your little fear of speed.“ […] “You don’t trust my driving?” he asked, offended. “Come on, you know I wouldn’t risk wrecking the jeep.” ”Why didn’t you straighten your hair today?” he asked, unhappy with my decision to let it dry naturally. […] “I like it better straight,” he told me. “You look so young right now, you could pass as a freshman.” Yes, a fine example of YA paranormal romance cannot really do without a jerk, it seems. So, I had to meet him in form of the heroine's supercatch of a boyfriend she is supposed to be immeasurably grateful to have. Naturally, he is her mom's best friend's son, an athlete, who always has to lunch with his team - his arm-candy quietly broadcasting his manliness at his side. He laughs about her mistakes in class with his mates, doesn't get her art and behaves altogether assholish most of the time, but he and Liz are prefect for each other - according to the Gospel of BFF Chelsea, who has set her eyes on mysterious Drew, by the way. I cannot exactly fathom why Jeremy is portrayed as the most egocentric, whiny, insensitive and stupidly dangerous specimen among his kind (fictional American teenaged male). I can only guess, but my guesses do not make me particularly happy: He has to be of the despicable, throw-out-as-fast-as-possible-sort so the impeccable, nice heroine will not be labeled an immoral cheater or a fickle heart, when she falls hard for her real dream boy and starts to meet him and flirt and laugh and dance with him behind her boyfriend's back (see prologue). Seeing Jeremy-the-Ultrajerk in all his sneer-faced glory shall make the readers moan 'Poor Lizzzzz' in sympathy instead of clucking their tongues in moral contemplation. It doesn't work. At last not as my own, strange mindset is concerned: To me Liz's enduring, anxious-to-please and afraid-to-draw-the-line character comes across as extremely weak, so doormattily pathetic that I felt like chucking my chocolate. No "Poorliz" from me. No, no. Especially since she without doubt listens to the wrong bestie:
2.5) “Her peasant skirt looked like it came out of the sixties, and she barely wore any make-up. She was a quiet girl – short, with mousy brown hair and a few freckles." Artsy Hannah Goldberg had been Liz's second best friend until she fell in love with the lunch-crowd-incompatible star of the drama group. But according to the narrator she disqualifies anyhow because she does not apply her talents on the freckled canvas fronting her head. And "Poorliz" has to suffer a second-best-friend-less state, because the stupid creature is unfortunately outfitted with the peasant skirt and the shortness the YA-character-cliché-guidelines for selfpublished of-the-rack ware dictate for girls of her category. Poor Hannah.
I confidently say: 'Remembrance' doesn't deserve a recommendation, although I never even got to learn why Liz can speak French fluently and knows the Regency period from firsthand experience. I know Liz, I know Jeremy and I get Drew. That's more than enough. Believe me....more
I stayed up very late to finish this and although I looked out for it I didn’t guess the Watkins‘ secret. Plus there is humor, a sweet romance (no, twI stayed up very late to finish this and although I looked out for it I didn’t guess the Watkins‘ secret. Plus there is humor, a sweet romance (no, two) and an assortment of very interesting, flawed and realish characters. That combination qualifies for a five star rating. I hope I’ll find the time to review this before the next book captures my thoughts. Thank you so much Flannery, for pointing „Flat-Out Love“ out to me. I had never heard of it before....more
2.5 stars. You like those simple, California-based teen romance movies in which a former no-name girl falls in love with the wrong guy first, gets env2.5 stars. You like those simple, California-based teen romance movies in which a former no-name girl falls in love with the wrong guy first, gets enveloped into the rich-people-fold, makes everbody ultimately happy and eliminates everybody's problems? Then you'll like this book, although it is even more predictable and a little less dramatic. Hollywood chicklit. Nothing more.
2.5 stars altogether. *** There will be spoilers. But then I have surely been the last girl on the planet to read this book. So what? *** ”His gaze lin2.5 stars altogether. *** There will be spoilers. But then I have surely been the last girl on the planet to read this book. So what? *** ”His gaze lingered on my face, and warmth blossomed in my belly. ‘Maybe I’m just curious why she is so enamoured. Dee doesn’t take well to strangers. None of us do.’” This quote is extracted from one of the 'friendlier' scenes in Jennifer L. Armentrout’s young adult paranormal series starter Obsidian, which openly celebrates the hotness factor of supernatural jerks by calling out to the readers “The jerkier, the hotter! This hero knows that he’s an «asshat», but he likes it that way and doesn’t feel the need to make things right. Hail to the champion of demeaning superpower users!” I am certainly aware of the turn-on-effect the attraction between the moody catch (i.e. Mr. Darcy, Edward Cullen, Damen Auguste or Patch Cipriano) and the average girl with drawbacks (i.e. Lizzy Bennett, Bella Swan, Ever Bloom - such a ridiculous name – or Nora Grey) can have on the female reader.
And I do love Mr. Darcy and Edward as well – especially in those helpless moments in which they realize, that their scheming or their pride has done them in and that love hurts. But in contrast to Damen or Daemon and other “sexy demons” they are finally able to put their earlier off-putting behavior into perspective. Although far from perfect, their efforts to keep a distance to the objects of their desire become relatable somehow. I cannot relate to cruel or deliberately mean, though, and am puzzled that so many girls can. Daemon is Damen’s successor in the shitty-heroine-treatment department: He is equally full of himself and purposefully embarrasses, taunts and insults Katy, but he also feels entitled to account for his modus operandum by stating that he is a guy, that he is just “that awesome” or by changing the subject to something that is basically another way to make Katy squirm or boil in a not so cute way.
Of course the feeble solution presented later is that staying away from the oh-so-special human Katy and preventing the forming intimacy between her and his only sister were necessary to keep his species safely undercover. But this - fully expected - explanation for the heightened jerk-factor did not convince me in the least. There is a huge difference between treating your neighbor like she is dirt - or worse - and keeping your polite distance to someone you are not keen on spending time with. Everyone who is not elephant-skinned gets the signals of disinterest. Plus, the childish, partly hysteric the-likes-of-me-do-not-play-with-the-likes-of-you mantra is rather a perfect trigger of a rising awareness and suspicion than a hint at the desire to be let alone. After the big, long-awaited revelation Daemon justifies his need to let Katy in on the secret by claiming that he had to, because she was about to find out anyway. But then he has his trackable superpower stunts to save her (from being hit by a truck *ding-dong*) in mind, instead of the obvious cause, namely his and bitchy non-girlfriend Ash’s ongoing insistence to differenciate noisily between "us" and "them": ”Daemon was quiet and then he laughed. ‘You’re not really like them.’ ‘Like who?’ […] I had no idea what he meant by the whole not like them or needing a friend like me.” ... Or later ... ”Ash’s smile faded. She took a step back. “This is her?’ […] ‘I can’t do this, Daemon. Maybe you guys can be okay with this, but I am not.’”
Another stupid move of the extraterrestrial team was that they all chose to morph their shape into human supermodels when they took refuge on earth. A great way to blend in with the small-town crowd, really! And I doubted that the US Department of Defence would simply finance a couple of hundred harmless seeming teenagers from space a luxurious life without trying to find foster families or group homes for them.
Katy is not entirely helpless or passive. She loves to make use of her middle finger, she uses spaghetti as a weapon and she tries not be over-rolled, out-smarted or made an example of. Still, there were several things I despised about her: - She is often very, very dense. - Her choice of come-backs was cringeworthily childish most of the time. (i.e. she resorts to claiming dangerous things like “I would not play in your sandbox / kiss you / touch you / share your lollipop if you were the last boy in this universe” while trying to tune down her heartbeat. Naturally he is always able to prove her wrong and makes her drool and stutter wearing that smug smirk of his. I wanted her to stay cool and say something like “So what, slimy Six-Pack? I am a teenager. I have eyes and my glands produce hormones. But that doesn’t mean I want every trollop with a yummy exterior to stick his wiener into my mustard pot. Got it?”) - She goes all Bella and asks the – understandable, but exploitable – question concerning the aliens’ method of reproduction and receives the “typically Deamon” counterquestion as an answer: ”’Are you asking if I am attracted to human girls?’ [...] 'Or are you asking if I am attracted to you?’” - She thinks she is “best friends” with the girl next door after meeting her for a couple of times although it is obvious that the chatty beauty only blathers superficially without sharing something personal. - She admits that Daemon had been right when he warned her not to accept another boy's invitation to the dance, because said jock – who had initially been described like he was a perfectly nice and friendly guy – suddenly had a ‘reputation’ as a date rapist. Sure, her date’s drunken fumbling turned out to be physically aggressive, but Daemon’s own advances did not always fare better in comparison, and Katy could also have accepted, but have made her opinion on drunken driving or casual groping simply clear when it started - instead of waiting until escalation and hanging her head in shameful remorse afterwards. I thought it was too convenient to turn someone else into a really bad boy to make the hero’s equally black armour shine in comparison. Plus I hated that Katy just felt it in “every bone” that Daemon would never hurt her. Screw teenage intuition! - She agrees to take a stroll deep into the woods each time she is asked to - just because Mr. Megajerk thinks he can think and talk better under a canopy. I had the faint impression that the author was a little bit too much in love with the twosome forest scenes in Twilight and was not able to resist the compulsion to sample its scenery (see also the truck fiasco). - Her obsession with the nuances of relationship vocabulary. I have constructed a prototype conversation to highlight my point. You just have to imagine it playing in an endless shuffle loop to grasp how intensely Katy’s thoughts were captivated by the subject: - ’Why do you hate me?’ - 'I don’t hate you, but I hate your stupid kind. I don’t want my only sister to be around the likes of you.’ - 'Oh. What do you mean - the likes of me? Short girls with boobs? But you don’t know me. I dislike you, by the way. So.' - ‘You think? I know you are attracted to me.’ - ‘Attracted, yes, I mean, no way. Attraction is too much. I lust after your body. That is, I like your body. But not like like ... Is that clear?’ - ‘Well. I get mightily turned on by your blush. Here. Let me poke my manly errection into your hip to show you. Wanna tumble me in the lake?’ - ‘Oh! No need to use body language, buddy. I swear, I'll show you my finger, when I've caught my breath. So you like me! I didn’t know that.’ - ‘No. I don’t like you. I am just a guy with a blush fetish.’ - ‘As I said, I don’t like you either. But I kind of like the other you. The secret, sweet one that got snatched away by aliens, you know?’ - ‘Erhem. I pretend now that I didn’t hear you say that. Otherwise you’ll get ideas that I might be one of them ... And I have to stay undetected by all means, because I am by far the strongest and most disciplined one of us.‘
As a relatively tame romance, one which ultimately avoids penetration, Obsidian has its fair share of sexual tension: The countless moments involving grabbed chins, widened eyes, accelerated heartbeats, moved strands of hair, thickened voices, grazed skins and quivering fingers did have their merits. I forked out half a star in appreciation of them.
The first sexy lake scene which shows Daemon trying to coax Katy to skinny dip reminded me of one of my childhood favorites, Pictures of Adam by Myron Levoy, in which 14-years-old, traumatized Adam believes he is an Alien, frightens his potential girl-friend, Lisa, by staying underwater far too long and succeeds in getting her to completely undress and join him in the ice-cold water. Wow. That realistic, tender and funny scene was dripping with hormones and restraint and sweet awkwardness! Dark, smirking Daemon and his confident demonstration of feel-up-skills is nothing in comparison. Maybe Jennifer L. Armentrout read that wonderful book in her youth, too (I think she is a couple of years younger than I, though).
To readers who are fond of books with a lot of intelligent boy-girl-bickering in them I would rather recommend the Australian debut Shadows by Paula Weston. Mysterious, supernatural Rafa knows where to prod and poke to trigger an explosion, but he also knows how to steer clear of the jerk trail. I would categorize the included “almost”-sex scene as being very hot and I extremely enjoyed the heroine’s tendency to swear extensively .
Last I have to add that the extraterrestrial aspects concerning asylum seekers from the galaxy farthest from ours - interesting to learn that the universe has an end – severely disappointed me. Although I couldn’t stand the sickly instant-love story I admit that I would probably prefer the scifi romance Neptune's Tears. But the alien teen romance I am willing to gush about is still somewhere out there in the vast void of writers’ minds. ...more
Not really worth reviewing in my opinion. One thing was ridiculously noteworthy, though: The mermaids' tails are of the conveniently modest and young-Not really worth reviewing in my opinion. One thing was ridiculously noteworthy, though: The mermaids' tails are of the conveniently modest and young-adult-like clean sort: "By the time I had unclasped my bra and slipped out of my panties, I could feel the protective sheath of shimmering blue-green scales covering me from nipple to nipple and down across my belly to obscure my nudity." Ehhhh? I thought scales were part of the merfolk's nature and not a costume? How can they use their nipples for - let's say - feeding, if they are hidden under a "sheath of scales"? ...more
Slumber is road trip fantasy fiction set in a parallel world, which some magicians' clans had especially created for their kind in order to evade humaSlumber is road trip fantasy fiction set in a parallel world, which some magicians' clans had especially created for their kind in order to evade human persecution in ours.
A few centuries after the world's construction magical talents have become rare among the newborn, but everybody believes that magic is necessary to keep the small world from tumbling into chaos. After the ruler dies, his young daughter Haydyn is the last known person able to excercise nationwide mindcontrol: Her job is to keep all her subjects from nursing violent or aggressive emotions and certainly from acting upon them. Everlasting peace among the handfull of provinces and the two nomadic clans is the highest goal in Phaedra. It is doubly tragic, that it had been in the name of said peace that the Captain of the young princess' guard employed unnecessarily brutal methods to gather the latest generation of mages at the palace when they were still small: Willing to cooperate or not - he had his soldiers kill every family member of Rogan, Kir and Valena in front of the gifted children's eyes and left their properties in smoking heaps of ashes and bones.
It is quite understandable that Rogan still harbors a deep hatred for the man responsible for slaughtering her family, although the princess has grown to be her best friend, values her opion above all and had the sadistic killer tried and executed for his crimes years ago. It is also understandable that Rogan is a bit weary of the sincerity of his will to protect her, when the former Captain's son Wolfe inherits his father's position and treats her with a mixture of chivalry and cold haughtiness. And, gosh, does the initiary bickering of the two entertain, when princess Haydyn falls into a deep slumber and the royal court sends Rogan on a heavily chaperoned road trip to find the almost extinct antidote plant in far away mountains because of her magical ability to find everything she had been ordered to find.
But what is not understandable and also not amusing at all is Rogan's resolve to keep despising Wolfe on principle because of what his father did to her family even after he repeatedly went enormous lengths to save her life and keep her out of the hands of thugs and rapists and although the dangerous situations she found herself in again and again were mainly her very own fault. For there is a reason the royal court sent 50 soldiers to accompany her on her cross-country journey - namely reports of heightend violence, vagabond thief groups and savage rebels in the provinces. Yet Rogan values her privacy and her own judgement so high that she sneaks off on her own on a regular basis for no urgent reason at all (view spoiler)[ ... kind of like camera-laden, flower-shirted German tourists on a Serengeti Safari chasing the cute lions ... (hide spoiler)], which certainly triggers trouble each time. The repetitions got boring with time and Rogan "evolved" from a tough cookie victim to a snotty brat who doesn't deserve all the loving and worrying.
Because of the good start Slumber and I had, I had been pretty bent on ploughing through, but I started skimming at approximately 60% and lost monumentum shortly before 70%. Now there is no drive left to finish the journey side by side with the annoying hope of her little universe, Lady Rogan of Phaedra. ["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>...more
Brenna's story and the matching character set annoyed the hell out of me. I would have to poke my inner me to elaborate.
Fact is, I had to abandon itBrenna's story and the matching character set annoyed the hell out of me. I would have to poke my inner me to elaborate.
Fact is, I had to abandon it after just reading 11% although I applauded her choice to use her bike as her main means of transport. But in different light ... what is so special about it and why was everybody so concerned about the weather and the bad, bad people wanting to mug school girls pedalling homewards? Never heard of mittens and mufflers?...more