Ten Things I’ve Learnt About Love is so far out of my comfort zone that I had to take a train back, but it was definitely worth the trip. It is a soft...moreTen Things I’ve Learnt About Love is so far out of my comfort zone that I had to take a train back, but it was definitely worth the trip. It is a soft, nostalgic story about a woman who is a bit lost but more importantly, who doesn’t want to be found. As the youngest of three daughters, Alice has a hard time finding her place in her own family. She also has a hard time staying in one place; she is a wanderer, restless by nature. It doesn’t take long for her to start feeling trapped so she travels the world to avoid it.
It is a lonely life Alice leads. Unable to create real emotional attachments, or rather prone to denying those she has created, she is a lone island surrounded by people she should be closest to. After spending six months in Mongolia, running from a dysfunctional family, a relationship that made her feel aimless and trapped, she receives the news that her father is dying and returns home.
Daniel is Alice’s real father. He is homeless, a different type of wanderer, but a wanderer nevertheless. He is, in part, homeless by choice; the life without attachments suits him. He refuses to leave the city, though, because that’s where he thinks Alice is, although he knows very little about her. For her part, Alice doesn’t even know that the doctor dying in their family home isn’t her real father. He was her mother’s husband, father of her two sisters, and he raised her as his own, even after her mother died.
I don’t even know what you look like. I don’t even know where you are. I tried to find you, you must believe that. I went to her house and rang the bell, but no one answered, and when I looked through the window, I saw the marks on the carpet, where the furniture used to be.
It wasn’t always easy being inside the head of someone so detached. In lack of her emotional responses, I’d try to assume what she would feel in any given situation and quickly become frustrated when Alice remained unchanged by this new experience. At least on the surface. There were some complicated feelings underneath, but she never reacted as one would expect.
It takes a lot for me to pick up a realistic novel, and even more if it’s literary fiction, but I rarely regret it in the end. That is the case with Ten Things I’ve Learnt about Love. I loved the change, the maturity of it, I loved that it didn’t have a messy beginning and a clean ending. I loved the asymmetry of it, the nostalgia that poured out of every page. I loved that it was a quiet read, never melodramatic, complicated and yet so very simple at the same time. It made me want to step out of my comfort zone more often because I always come back a different, if not better person, and really, what more can one ask?
3.5 stars With hundreds (yes, hundreds) of urban fantasy books behind me, I really thought I’d seen it all, but a sentient amulet for a sidekick is new...more3.5 stars With hundreds (yes, hundreds) of urban fantasy books behind me, I really thought I’d seen it all, but a sentient amulet for a sidekick is news even to me. Merry the fae amulet is an endless source of entertainment. She doesn’t speak, obviously, but she has ways to express her opinions rather loudly regardless. Most of those ways end up being very painful for poor Hedi. But Merry also has the ability to heal and she uses it to help Hedi whenever it’s needed, and in turn, Hedi feeds her and keeps her safe.
Hedi is a somewhat unusual UF protagonist. A half-fae-half werewolf in hiding, she is neither nice nor particularly brave, and she never utters a sentence that isn’t rude to at least three people simultaneously. But being privy to her thoughts meant I also got to see the hows and whys of it firsthand, and while none of it made her more likeable, it did at least made me sympathize to a certain extent. At the same time, being inside Hedi’s head was often a hilarious experience. Her distinctive, clear-as-bell voice jumps out at the very first page.
If people stayed with proven facts, work environments would be easier. Groundless accusations just stir things up, like the whole “Who hid the turkey breast sandwich behind the milk?” controversy. Did they think I did it? Well, prove it. Maybe I did do it, and maybe if you were an anal retentive asshole who counted cookies and sandwiches, you might feel those were two good reasons to fire your barista. Maybe.
Oh, but the romance in this one is as heartbreaking as it is unusual. Hedi has been in love with the werewolf Trowbridge for as long as she can remember, but he never returned her feeling. For one, when they knew each other she was only twelve and he was in his late teens, and later she disappeared and he married a girl named Candy. Now Candy is dead, and Hedi and Trowbridge are forced to work together. To make matters worse, there’s also the small matter of Hedi’s amulet being in love with the Royal Amulet around Trowbridge’s neck.
Achieving a life-long dream and getting Trowbridge into bed isn’t so hard for Hedi. There’s a connection between them and neither of them tries too hard to resist it. But as Trowbridge himself pointed out, he’s no prize – after years of hiding, guilt-ridden, drunk and bent on revenge against the weres who killed his family, not much of the old Robson Trowbridge remains. And the memory of his dead wife Candy is always between them.
He waited for me to explode again, and when I didn't, he used two fingers on my forehead to ease me back into my seat. "You are one crazy-ass Tinker Bell," he said, returning his attention to the road.
The Trouble With Fate is full of action and sexual tension, my two favorite things. The ending, I have to admit, took me completely by surprise, and although it’s not a cliffhanger at all, it left me pining for the next book.
Is there anything a mother wouldn’t do to save her son? Even if they are mostly estranged and angry at each other? Would she willingly walk into a pla...moreIs there anything a mother wouldn’t do to save her son? Even if they are mostly estranged and angry at each other? Would she willingly walk into a place where the air is poisonous and hundreds of zombies roam about?
Of course she would. I would, too.
That’s the choice Briar is forced to make, and it really isn’t a choice at all. Sixteen years ago, Seattle was destroyed by one of her late husband’s inventions, and she became an outcast, a poor, single mother with no one to rely on. From that point on, Briar and her son were lucky when they could cross the street without someone spitting on them for something neither of them played any part in. Briar’s son Zeke is only sixteen and he’s desperate to clear his father’s name, not knowing that his father really is guilty of turning Seattle into a poisonous prison. And there is no doubt in Briar’s mind, her late husband poisoned the air, flattened the city and created rotters, the zombies. But every boy wants his father to be perfect, so Zeke runs away from home to go to Seattle and prove his father’s innocence.
As much as I enjoyed the (too few) steampunk elements in Boneshaker, what I found most intriguing was the complexity of Briar’s relationship with her teenage son Zeke. I normally dislike situations that stem from lack of communication between characters, but in Boneshaker, their reasons for not sharing secrets with each other were so painful and real that I couldn’t blame Cherie Priest for deciding to write it exactly like that. It is what made these characters truly alive, as if they didn’t exist until they were around each other or thinking about each other. Despite the alternate history setting and all those fantastic inventions, despite the zombies and everything else that was exciting, Briar and Zeke were what really kept me on the edge of my seat. When it comes to character bulding, Cherie Priest is the best psychologist I’ve come across since Ann Aguirre, which is saying something, my friends.
But it appears that everything good comes at a price, and excellent characterization was very pricey indeed. In terms of steampunk, Boneshaker leaves a lot to be desired. I realize I’m very nitpicky when it comes to this sub-genre, but if authors won’t use the endless possibilities it provides, I see no point in writing it at all. The steampunk bits did not blow me away like they did in Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences, and I expected more from Priest language-wise, to be honest. Still, keep in mind that Boneshaker won the 2010 Locus Award for Science-Fiction, so this is probably just me being unreasonable and difficult. I get like that sometimes, just ask my siblings. :)
Although Boneshaker didn’t leave me completely satisfied, I am intrigued and eager to read the next book in this series.
4.5 stars Unsettling, grim, nerve-wracking, action-packed, frightening, riveting, enthralling, intelligent, fast-paced, claustrophobic, eerie, appallin...more4.5 stars Unsettling, grim, nerve-wracking, action-packed, frightening, riveting, enthralling, intelligent, fast-paced, claustrophobic, eerie, appalling, passionate… Any one of these words can be used to describe Spark, and yet, not even all of them put together come close to explaining the all-consuming thrill ride that is this book. Amy Kathleen Ryan achieved something not many authors can: Spark is one of those highly adaptable books that can be read one way by a younger audience, and completely differently by someone older. Behind the exciting story are layers and layers of psychology and current issues that can be discussed for hours on end.
Spark picks up exactly where Glow left off. The girls are back on the Empyrean, but all they did by returning was replace one religious tyrant with another. Kieran is leading the ship with sermons, lies and deceptions, and not even his ex fiancé can stand in his way. Weaverly has more enemies than she can count, both on Empyrean and the New Horizon, and Seth has lost everything when Kieran took over.
She’d been through too much. Some part of her had snapped. Her humanity had gone on hiatus, and what was left behind was her animal instinct: kill, hurt, maim, survive.
There are no heroes in Spark. Each of these characters exist in a moral gray area, and Kieran, who started out as a classic hero in Glow, turned into something entirely different. The most frightening thing about him is his firm belief that he is right, that he is being led by God and that, as God’s chosen vessel, he can do no wrong. Weaverly and Seth are confronted with the impossibility of reasoning with someone like him while still trying to find the remnants of the person he used to be.
What makes Spark truly stand out is that Amy Kathleen Ryan doesn’t hide behind the age of her characters. She refuses to adapt, embellish or gloss over the ugly facts. There are some truly selfless and kind secondary characters because there have to be – there always are in life - but the leaders, our protagonists, are all power-hungry and selfish to the core. There’s nothing even remotely good in Kieran Alden anymore, and Weaverly Marshall is on the verge of insanity, crazed by her need for revenge. Oh, sure, Seth Ardvale had a change of heart and came to understand the error of his ways, but all that got him were a couple of fractured ribs and a place in the brig.
She’d known fear before, of course, but this terror at the end of her life had been new. It hollowed her out, debased her, turned her into nothing more than airless lungs and bloodless brain. A gray cloud had crept into the borders of her vision and a voice inside her had screamed, I’m dying! I’m dying now!
And the situations they’re in are even more dangerous than last time. In Glow, the crew was fighting an external enemy and the disaster was of much bigger proportions, but that somehow made it less personal. In Spark, the kids of the Empyrean are mostly fighting each other, and as it turns out, there’s nothing more dangerous or cruel than a group of young people left to fend for themselves, especially when the kids in question are motivated almost entirely by revenge. Survival takes the back seat in Spark. Kieran and his crew are willing to sacrifice almost anything to get their parents back and inflict revenge on the crew of New Horizon.
Spark is obviously not for the faint-hearted. It gave me food for thought but, quite frankly, these aren’t things I enjoy thinking about. Who knows how any of us would behave in such conditions? Extra brownie points go to Amy Kathleen Ryan for achieving the impossible and getting me out of my reading slump. Hurray!
I rated Glow somewhat higher than I normally rate this type of books, due solely to the incredibly strong emotional impact it had on me. Some of the c...moreI rated Glow somewhat higher than I normally rate this type of books, due solely to the incredibly strong emotional impact it had on me. Some of the characters in it might prove forgettable in time, but I will never forget the pressing, claustrophobic feeling it left me with. I’ve read a few reviews in advance and I was prepared to be unsettled by it, but nothing could prepare me for this story in which people, every last one of them, were monsters, usually hidden behind a very pleasant façade.
When, decades ago, two identical ships were launched into space on a mission to find New Earth and settle, everyone thought their chances of survival were pretty much the same. After all, the only difference between them was the religious conviction of their respective crews. Weaverly and Kieran belong to the first generation of children born on the Empyrean – the ship with a non-religious crew. They are both fifteen and thinking about getting married – in their circumstances, children are always welcome, no matter how young the parents. They have their lives planned out for them and they’re happy with the way things are going. But the New Horizon crew hasn’t had as much luck. They haven’t been able to procreate at all, which means their crew is fairly old and they are pretty desperate. Their solution is to attack the Empyrean and steal all their girls, nearly destroying the ship in the process. Suddenly, Weaverly and Kieran aren’t even on the same ship and each of them is dealing with a different set of disasters.
The name Weaverly seems like an odd and unfortunate choice, especially for third person narration. Since Ryan seems to harbor a strong dislike for personal pronouns, it’s used in almost every sentence, and, being a mouthful, it clogs the natural flow of sentences and makes the already thick narrative even harder to read. That is, writing-wise, the only objection I really have. Amy Kathleen Ryan showed unusual skill and control.
Because so many awful, hateful things happen in it, Glow is a hard book to like. There is no real warmth between the characters, nothing even remotely positive or hopeful, just violence, horrible moral choices and more violence. One couldn’t exactly call Kieran a hero, not by any stretch of the imagination, and the same goes for the rest of the characters. They behaved exactly as one would expect people in such an isolated environment to behave: they have deviated drastically from moral and ethical standards of society.
Faced with a crew made up entirely of rebellious boys, Kieran decided to lead them through a religion he pretty much made up on the spot. The ease with which this decision was made and the way those boys accepted it was incredibly creepy and eye-opening. Their sudden faith in Kieran was alarming, and the speed with which this cult of personality arose staggering.
There are many more things that unsettled me and kept me awake at night, but writing about them would give away too much of the plot. It’s best to go into this book knowing very little about it. Fortunately, I have the sequel, Spark, on hand, but I’m not brave enough to read t right away. My poor little heart needs a lengthy break.
3 stars and an extra star for the terrifying mermaids... errr, sirens.
Some of you may have noticed that I’m not around much lately. That’s because it...more3 stars and an extra star for the terrifying mermaids... errr, sirens.
Some of you may have noticed that I’m not around much lately. That’s because it’s summer, I live by the sea, and I can’t resist spending every available moment at the beach, which made this the best and the worst time for me to read Wake by Amanda Hocking. On the one hand, it’s a perfect summer read, but on the other, I keep expecting an evil siren to show up and eat me while I'm swimming and generally minding my own business. Who’s afraid of sharks? Not me, no siree, I’m terrified of sirens!
Harper is not much older than her sister Gemma, but their responsibilities are vastly different. Their mother became institutionalized after suffering severe brain damage, and Harper started taking care of their father and the house, but most of all, she assumed the role of a parent for Gemma. She is serious and organized, and she has her life planned to the smallest detail. Gemma isn’t quite as put together as her older sister, but she’s hardly problematic either. She is good at school, very beautiful and completely dedicated to her swimming career. She is so good, in fact, that her coach is aiming for the Olympics. When three strange girls show up in their tiny town, Gemma is the only one who sees that there’s something wrong with them, but she can’t really avoid them when they’re around water and her favorite cove all the time.
If there’s one thing I loved about Wake, it’s the villains. I fear Hocking’s sirens for the same reason I fear the fae – they’re gorgeous and alluring, but deceitful and rotten beneath the surface. The sirens may be stunning on the outside, but if you look closely, their teeth seem to elongate and sharpen and there is a coldness in their eyes that stands in stark contrast to their wonderful, inviting exterior. Penn, Lexi and Thea showed up in town one day and everyone just assumed they’re early tourists. No one questioned their presence, not when they’re young, frail-looking and heartstoppingly gorgeous, not even when three young boys went missing one after the other. Gemma, however, was very uncomfortable around them, at least until they turned her into one of their own.
What would a summer read be without romance? No worries, there is a double dose of swoon-worthy boys in this one! Personally, I preferred Daniel – he is somewhat older and definitely more charming, but I think younger girls might find a perfect book crush in Alex. Just like the sisters are as different as they can be, these two boys are nothing alike, which means there’s something there for everyone!
Third person omniscient narrator is a rare and strange choice for young adult literature, but it’s also a welcome change. Younger readers might find themselves uncomfortable with it as it creates a certain barrier between the reader and the main character(s). Having insight into thoughts of all characters can be quite useful, but it also weakens the connection with the protagonist. I do think it worked great here and it’s one of my favorite things about this book.
All in all, Wake by Amanda Hocking is a surprisingly dark tale. I’m so glad I decided to read it after all.
I’ll start this one with a confession: time travel stuff makes little to no sense to me. It’s true, my m...moreForget everything you know about time travel…
I’ll start this one with a confession: time travel stuff makes little to no sense to me. It’s true, my mathematical-logical intelligence is lower than my shoe size, and when I try to make sense of all the time lines and paradoxes, I get this throbbing headache in my temples that refuses to go away. Because of that, the opening sentence (Jackson’s words to Holly) meant very little to me – I knew next to nothing to begin with, but I’m happy to say that Cross’ version, at least, made sense. To me. Sort of.
Ever since it came out, Tempest has been receiving a lot of mixed reviews. Most of my friends and bloggers I usually agree with gave it a low rating, which is why I waited so long to give it a chance. But somewhere deep inside, I had this strange feeling that Tempest and I would get along, and as it turns out, we did.
As it usually happens, what I expected from Tempest and what I ended up with were two things a million miles away from each other. I obviously knew it was about time travel, but I thought it would focus entirely on the romance and saving the life of a girl our time traveler can’t live without. Boy was I wrong! It’s true, Jackson’s girlfriend Holly gets shot by the so called Enemies of Time and he jumps back in the hopes of saving her, but Tempest doesn’t focus on their undying love. In fact, Jackson approaches his relationship with Holly very maturely. Instead, this book is full of secret medical research, CIA agents, agents called Enemies of Time, parallel dimensions and guns. Sounds fun? I thought so.
A lot of reviewers thought that Holly was plain and unworthy of Jackson’s attention, and I agree that she doesn’t really stand out. But people we feel attracted to are often plain in the eyes of others, and it wasn’t me who was supposed to fall in love with her. So in a way, I'm glad she was pretty, but not stunningly gorgeous, smart, but not a Nobel prize winner, generous, but certainly not Mother Teresa. It made the entirety of their relationship seem that much more real to me.
The usual tropes were all there: no mother, dead sister, best friend the science geek, but the seat-gripping action helped me accept it all more easily and in the end, those 412 pages simply weren’t enough. I read this book at the beach, before going to sleep, during hours of insomnia, while I was eating and pretty much everywhere else, until I finished it. (I even fell asleep with it and I sort of dropped it on my own head, but that’s neither here nor there.) Of course it had its flaws, but it’s summer, it was fun, and quite frankly I just don’t care.
Almost two years ago, when I picked up a book called The Reapers Are the Angels (mostly because I liked the title), I never dreamed reading it would b...moreAlmost two years ago, when I picked up a book called The Reapers Are the Angels (mostly because I liked the title), I never dreamed reading it would be such a life-changing, earth-shattering experience. Not only did Alden Bell (pseudonym for Joshua Gaylord, author of Hummingbirds) take everything I thought I knew about genre fiction and turn it upside down, but his main characters, Temple and Moses (and what an odd pair they are) became permanent residents in my thoughts and in my heart.
Exit Kingdom is not a sequel, but a companion novel – a prequel in some ways – loosely connected through two characters: Moses and his paternal half-brother Abraham. The story begins after the events of The Reapers: Moses and Maury are sitting around a bonfire with some survivors and Moses is answering questions about their travels. When asked whether he believes in God, Moses offers to tell a story about his early adventures – one that explains why he knows with absolute certainty that God truly exists.
Like The Reapers, Exit Kingdom is very much a road novel, still influenced by Cormac McCarthy and William Faulkner among others, but the philosophy hidden within is somewhat different. Temple was a ray of hope in an otherwise hopeless world, and Moses’ perspective seems rather bleak in comparison. Many factors caused this huge difference between them, but the most important one, the one that Bell himself keeps pointing out in the few interviews that can be found, is that Temple was born in a world infested with slugs, while Moses still remembers what life was like before.
Bell’s writing is unusual and breathtaking: he skillfully uses language to create the right atmosphere and to bring his readers closer to a world where education had to take the back seat to survival. It’s interesting that a language can deteriorate so badly and still be so beautiful. Add to that Moses’ unusual way of speaking – for even the most mundane sentences become noteworthy coming from his mouth – and you’ll get a prose piece that is distinctive and impossible to forget.
My brother and I, Moses says, we’re hard to offend, friar. You likely couldn’t stumble by accident upon the offence to us – you’d have to give it your full effort and strategy. So don’t fret yourself on that account. We’re happy to get whatever you feel like offerin. And we’re happy to offer services in exchange.
Exit Kingdom is a story about God, or the absence of God, but it is not a religious story. God, like beauty, is very much in the eye of the beholder. Where one sees chaos, another sees harmony. Where one sees apocalypse, another sees rebirth. I think the last sentence (it’s not a spoiler, not at all relevant to our story), will tell you more about this book than I have in this entire review:
4.5 stars When I first felt myself being pulled into this story, I glanced down and saw the number 156 written at the bottom of the page. 156 pages of...more4.5 stars When I first felt myself being pulled into this story, I glanced down and saw the number 156 written at the bottom of the page. 156 pages of barely understandable, agonizingly slow and almost painfully dense prose - that’s what it took for me to start enjoying Stormdancer. But here’s the thing: now that I fully understand this book, I understand the necessity of such a beginning. This is how the rain becomes a flood. One drop at a time.
There’s something mesmerizing and magical about a world well-built, and Kristoff’s is more detailed than most. As hard as it is to understand it at first, once you become a part of it, it is unlikely to ever let you go. It is a grim, filthy world, poisoned by blood lotus, a plant that kills the land it grows from and is used for everything from fuel to drugs. It is a world of stark contrasts – excessive wealth and excessive poverty, mythical creatures and technology. Not much in it can be described as beautiful, and yet, the beauty of it in its entirety is undeniable. It is reminiscent of the most intricate filigree work. Even if it doesn’t appeal to your personal taste, you must appreciate the skill that was necessary to create it.
And yet, in many ways, this stunning, complex world quickly becomes overshadowed by the characters. Each of them was created just like the world was – slowly, with much attention to details, in a million layers, some more important than others. Yukiko herself cannot be reduced to a one-sentence description, but what truly surprises me is that none of the characters can either. They are all so many things at once, their histories interconnected, their stories all somehow related. Hatred doesn’t sprout from nothing in Kristoff’s world. Everything has an explanation, everyone carries some trauma and hurt, and every single character has hidden motives.
Among them, the thunder tiger stands out as the most fascinating by far. I must confess I’d never given much thought to mythological creatures such as griffins, but seeing Buruu through Kristoff’s eyes made me realize how blind I’d been. He is truly a magnificent creature, powerful and fiercely intelligent, yet tender and caring toward Yukiko, his Stormdancer. The telepathic connection they share is one of the most interesting things I’ve ever read about. Spending time in each other’s minds changes them both ever so subtly. The arashitora’s understanding of the human world increases, and she becomes slightly more explosive in nature. They call each other brother and sister because that’s what they truly are, and that’s how protective they are of each other.
The hindquarters of a white tiger, rippling muscle bound tight beneath the snow-white fur, slashed with thick bands of ebony. The broad wings, forelegs and head of a white eagle, proud and fierce; lightning reflected in amber irises and pupils of darkest black. It roared again, shaking the ship, cutting through the air like a katana in a swordsaint’s hands.
All good things come at a price and with Stormdancer, that price is your patience. Understanding the initial chapters or even caring about the characters won’t be easy at first, but if you persist, you will be heavily rewarded.
Stop by The Nocturnal Library to read a guest post by Jana Oliver and enter for a chance to win a copy of this book or any other book in The Demon Tr...moreStop by The Nocturnal Library to read a guest post by Jana Oliver and enter for a chance to win a copy of this book or any other book in The Demon Trappers series + signed swag.
Reviewing a last book in the series is never easy or especially fun. In fact, it’s one of my least favorite things to do, vacuuming and peeling onions included. Fortunately for me, Jana Oliver gave me a lot to write about, all of it good.
Riley Blackthorne is finally sure that she loves her father’s protégé and her friend and protector, Denver Beck. She may have given up her soul to avoid the Armageddon, but her heart still knows where it stands. The kiss they exchanged on the cemetery right before the battle was pretty eye-opening for both of them, but now that Beck’s past is coming back to haunt him, he doesn’t want Riley anywhere near him, all in a misguided attempt to protect her and save himself from possible rejection. The way Riley sees it, the only way for the two of them to ever be together is to uncover the skeletons in Beck’s closet and make him see that she will always stand by his side, no matter what. Of course their story isn’t the only thing we have to worry about. There are human enemies to defeat and demons to destroy. Once again Oliver entertains with the wide variety of creatures she's created: from Pyro-Fiends and Klepto-Fiends to Arch-Fiends and fallen angels.
I think Beck’s fans (because really, aren’t we all?) will be quite happy with this story. Even though there’s a battle between Heaven and Hell going on in the background, Foretold mainly focuses on his personal demon, his horrible, uncaring mother and the crime he was always blamed for, but never officially accused of. Although Oliver always experimented with language, she took it a step further in Foretold. The finer nuances of Beck’s character were constantly emphasized through a very clever use of language. His pronunciation was changing depending on his mood, location and company. His grammar would deteriorate every time he was under stress, which was most easily noticeable in his pronunciation of pronouns. This sort of thing can be very rewarding for an attentive reader and it’s exactly the kind of thing that makes me insanely happy.
I need to say a few words about Riley Blackthorne as well. There was a point in the series (around the middle of book two), where I almost gave up entirely because I couldn’t deal with her whining and self-pity. Yes, she’d had a lot to deal with, but she reminded me of my five year old when she’s both sleepy and hungry. This didn’t take long, but her character didn’t suffer any radical, overnight changes either. It is almost sad that the series is ending now that Oliver finally found solid ground to stand on with her.
It says on the cover that this is a book for older audience and I tend to agree, though I generally dislike such limitations. Younger teens should be aware that these books contain violence and sex that isn’t necessarily a profound, life-changing experience. Sometimes sex is just sex and Jana Oliver never shied away from it. One of her characters is a twenty-something-year-old war veteran after all, and not one that is happy with sitting alone in his apartment, watching game shows and drinking orange juice. The Demon Trappers series is balancing a fine line between YA and adult urban fantasy, which worked perfectly for me, and hopefully it will for those of you who have yet to give it a chance.
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