I'd read 105 pages and put it aside, because that bossy scientist-mother-figure exercised too much willpower for my taste as her plans for her young,I'd read 105 pages and put it aside, because that bossy scientist-mother-figure exercised too much willpower for my taste as her plans for her young, genial friend were concerned. On top of all the regular weirdness and the YA-like virginity/first kiss-issue-stuff (this isn't YA, is it? I am not sure anmore.) her manipulative manner annoyed me to bits. That must be the reason why I cannot muster enough interest or energy to go back to to story. Probably the wrong decision, but one I will live with easily, I guess....more
Another proof for my theory that P.J. Lynch is the master of fairytale illustration, but I love "Melisande" and "East o' the Sun..." still better thanAnother proof for my theory that P.J. Lynch is the master of fairytale illustration, but I love "Melisande" and "East o' the Sun..." still better than this collection. For once there could be more pictures. In addition, I definitely prefer the Grimm version of Cinderella to the pumpkin one and with Sleeping Beauty there was something off. ...more
The Hollows is still my favorite urban fantasy series. The series that entertains me most and disappoints me very sparingly. The series that I continuThe Hollows is still my favorite urban fantasy series. The series that entertains me most and disappoints me very sparingly. The series that I continue to preorder (as a mass paperback) without having to determine whether I really want to read the next installment or not. But also, I am still not very fond of him, you know? But then a reunion with, let's say, Pearce or Nick or that spineless witch (Manuel?, Malcolm?) would have been worse. So, let's see what the final volume brings... A double or triple wedding, huh?...more
He laughs coldly. I recoil as he strokes my cheek with a long, graceful finger. "I hope you have more of your little weapons," he whispers, his breathHe laughs coldly. I recoil as he strokes my cheek with a long, graceful finger. "I hope you have more of your little weapons," he whispers, his breath kissing my lips. "Because now they will never stop hunting you."
This has been disappointing. Really. I almost gave up in the middle. It turned out to be so very predictable as the plot is concerned, so utterly bland as the characters - both human and fae - go (No, wait! Honey-addicted pixie Derrick was truly adorable; but he kind of felt like a less naughty a.k.a. watered-down copy of Rachel Morgan's sidekick Jenks), so focused on the fighting and the no-need-to-guess-the-outcome love-triangle (view spoiler)[(Hell, whom will she choose in final volume no. whatnot: The boring but nice and jealous childhood friend, who needs alcohol to make seeing monsters bearable, or the otherwordly, stunning, cunning, strong and sexy but broodingly cold-mannered faerie, who skips between pretending not to care, rescuing the heroine with fleeting traces of DEEP feelings on his features, acting suddenly and mysteriously against her, and - like clockwork - reminding her of his inhuman monsterishness, that ultimately devides them, which makes us readers whisper: 'Poor, agonized, magical creature, let her love and heal you? Hmm? Difficult question?') (hide spoiler)].
If you do feel like reading a young-adult-targeted, steampunky romance between a special and brave human girl and a hunky faerie with a heart encased in icy armor (love-triangle featuring a worthier opponent included!), I suggest you rather try the Iron Fey series by Julie Kagawa....more
"He stuck his shovel defiantly in the ground, then took off his little red hat and held it in both hands. 'You have a name?' 'Twinkle.' 'Twinkle,' I s"He stuck his shovel defiantly in the ground, then took off his little red hat and held it in both hands. 'You have a name?' 'Twinkle.' 'Twinkle,' I said slowly. 'The Destroyer,' he added. 'Your name is Twinkle the Destroyer?' He nodded. 'Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be? Okay, Twinkle the Destroyer, I take it you guys have been popping my tires?'" Who doesn't love fierce, little garden gnomes named Pip the BriNger of Pain, Gnoman Polanski or Twinkle the Destroyer? And who doesn't think that Lish McBride’s dialogues between her mellow necromancing hero Samhain LaCroix and multiple, wackily paranormal or frighteningly normal creatures like Pello the dread-locked, beer-bellied, leery satyr, who enjoys to attend council meetings clad neither in glamour nor in anything else that restricts his manliness, huge, vegetarian, strangely sexy bigfoots bursting with mating pheromones, vampire dandies with parasols, popker playing minotaurs, the human underdog Frank, the weregrizzly Ramon and ... last but not least the most interesting pukis in literature, James Montgomery, are prizeworthily funny, clever and naughty? Well I, for my part, I do. A lot of scenes in this sequel to the exciting and entertaining "Hold Me Closer, Necromancer" provided me with blissful moments of mirth.
In spite of that I believe the novel to be superfluous as a novel. Usually I am one of those readers who make a wide berth around short-story anthologies and anouncements of prequel 0.7 and sequel 1.5.2. But in the light of the material presented in "Necromancing the Stone" I am sure a couple of shorts titled "How to Mailorder a Chupacabra", "Bare-Assed Hiking with Pello", "Social Security for the Sexy Bigfoot", "Puking on a Pukis", "The Day Frank Became an Honorary Gnome" or "High on Goddess Juice" would have done the trick very nicely indeed.
See, the problem is the real plot. It is simply not enough around of it to fill a whole book, and the arc of tension – if you insist of looking for one – resembles rather a limp fishing line than a taut string of a bow ready to snap. The narration is split up more or less betweeen Sam and the evil, evil, evil, evil necromancer Douglas, who is a bit dead, but preparing to resurrect and reclaim everything ... and certainly to take revenge, but who has magically stored a fragment of his soul in a object (see title), which is in unsuspecting Sam’s hands but is needed in Doug's to get the action to full throttle. So there is a warning (*yawn*), some dreams, that reminded me of a young Tom Riddle, a little murder (*yawnyawnsob*), some bonding, some council-this-and-that, some re-woeing of Bridgin, the pigeon – ehhr, no, werealpha-in-spe -, and a flashy 5000 Watt bulb anouncing the final solution of the final kind-of-battle precisely at the 39% mark. That meant: enough potential to drive me nuts with boredom between the giggles.
I am not sure whether I want to read the third volume or not. But I do not want to miss out on any new attempt the author throws on the market in the future. For she is a talented one. I won’t go back on that. ...more
After forcefully dragging myself through 62 pages filled with green, blue and purple typography I have to say: "Thank you, Captain Cow, for includingAfter forcefully dragging myself through 62 pages filled with green, blue and purple typography I have to say: "Thank you, Captain Cow, for including me in your blog's book tour, but though based on a nice idea the would-be young adult story (a 15-years-old heroine is entertaining the reader on primary-school-level) is simply too boring and cannot keep my attention. I have become so fidgetty that I fear for the paperback's future well-being. The best about the book is the drawing of the evil, exotic-looking mermaids I spotted on page 74 (I browsed through all the multi-colored pictures. They are quite fetching). I am going to send the book to the next recipient on Wednesday or Thursday and hope that it is not too late for her."...more