NEF

I wasn't certain of anything anymore, except that New Orleans was a faithless friend and I wanted to leave her.

As I said earlier, Goodreads has given it a pretty good rating, which I think it almost deserves. In the first chapter, I began to disapprove of Mother, admire Josie, and be mystified by Willie. The line that hooked me was:

She took a sip and nodded. “Honestly, Louise, a seven-year-old bartender?”

Willie said normal was boring and that I should be grateful that I had a touch of spice. She said no one cared about boring people, and when they died, they were forgotten, like something that slips behind the dresser.

We all laced together—a brothel madam, an English professor, a mute cook, a quadroon cabbie, and me, the girl carrying a bucket of lies and throwing them like confetti.

If I poured all the lies I had told into the Mississippi, the river would rise and flood the city.

Decisions, they shape our destiny.

“Let me tell you something ‘bout these rich Uptown folk,” said Cokie. “They got everything that money can buy, their bank accounts are fat, but they ain't happy. They ain't ever gone be happy. You know why? They soul broke. And money can't fix that, no sir.”

I liked this book a lot, mostly because I thought it was written with an honesty and candidness I liked. The beginning was a bit slow, but interesting all the same. Nothing much happens for around the first seventy? pages. E.K Johnston goes into an in-depth look of Hermione-the-cheerleader at camp, the captain, the best friend of snarky, no-nonsense Polly, girlfriend of Leo-the-jerk-I-never-did-like, and what life was like before the dance, before the drug, before the rape.

What happens after that is the main focus of the story. Hermione has to heal, and the best part of that is that she doesn't have to do it on her own. She's got her parents, who understand as best they can; Polly, the ferocious best friend who protects Hermione with all the coldfire anger she possesses; Mallory and co. who are the kind of friends everybody should have; Dion, and even Tig (though maybe not Leo), Coach Caledon, Officer Plummer, Dr Hutt the psychiatrist - she has a whole army of people to back her up!

I wish every victim - not just rape victims, but those of murder, kidnap, robbery, war - had that kind of supportive environment to heal in.

The Rest Of Us never get to be the vampires' life-source, or the amulet-wielding hero/ine, or the one who saves the day while aceing all our tests and eating healthily to boot.

The Rest Of Us are the ones who have dysfunctional families and phobias, the ones who worry about the future and what-if-everything-goes-wrong, the ones who would be anything - do anything - for the people they love.

The Rest Of Us are the ones who worry about how groups have one person everybody likes the least, needs the least, and am I that person?

The Rest Of Us aren't normal at all. None of us are normal. We've got problems and issues and things we can't control, no matter how much we want to. We might not have to battle crazy, blue-eyed policemen or hide from stampeding zombie-deer, but we do have to get through every day of our lives, and that in itself is a feat, what with our paranoia, crises, anxieties and finding ourselves.

But in the end, the good times mostly outweigh the bad times, and we find out secrets we should have seen but disn't because we were being stupidly self-absorbed, and we read books like The Rest Of Us Just Live Here and are reminded that The Rest Of Us are all heros and heroines, because, like, at the risk of sounding totally cliche...

We are all the main characters in our lives. I mean, can you imagine being anybody else?

Spindle's End spans years - twenty-one years, nearly exactly - two decades and more of the lives of a very special family, with very special people, who love dearly and deeply, who care and try their best, who worry and fret and dread what they know will eventually happen, but who soldier on in the ordariness of life anyway.

Katriona, a fairy's niece in a land with magic as common and unpredictable and omnipresent as wind, leaves for the princess' name-day celebration and returns with a baby - Rosie. Aunt, fairy wise and strong, helps raise Rosie of the golden locks, long, golden eyelashes, who can never miss a note on the flute, who dances beautifully, and hates all of the above, into a strong, independant, woman.

This is as much a reselling of Sleeping Beauty with a twist as it is the story of a small family who grows slowly, in number and heart, and who would do anything to protect one of their own. It's a fierce story, with fierce people. It's a love story, a coming of age story, a story with foes bigger than oneself, a story with darkness and inevitability and no way out, a story about friends.

The only problem I had was the rambling. The plot was awesome, the characters even more so (although I wanted more Narl, Aunt, Bardeen and Ikor), but the prose...

Imagine that a regular book is a pathway through a beautiful forest you love to walk through and stop and stare at things and enjoy. The best books have well-paved roads that go straight through the trees, with even distances between each new stop.

Spindle's End was a trodden path that curved and twisted and ran away from you. The sights were worth it and each new place made you happy, and most of the time you enjoyed the rambling path anyway, but sometimes you just wished it were straighter and more to the point. Towards the end, the path gets a lot better and you speed up, glad to get away from the beginning, but the blocked, page-long paragraphs still haunt you anyway.

Everything else, though, was spectacular.

We are liars. We are beautiful and privileged. We are cracked and broken.
Once, there was an old man. He had three beautiful daughters, who had beautiful children of their own. The first grandchild was Cadence, pretty Cadence. She was golden-haired and wonderful, the eldest of them all. Second came Johnny, then Mirren (or the other way around, I can't remember). Golden children, both of them, sunburnt and merry. Carefree Johnny, soft Mirren, lovely children both, and the apples of their grandfather's eyes. The old man loved his daughters so much, he built a house for them each: Windemere, Red Gate and Cuddledown. But then his wife died, and everybody remembered that no one lasts forever, not even Sinclairs. Grandfather is aging. Grandfather is dying. Grandfather is rich. Who will win the prize of everything he leaves behind? Cadence, the eldest by birth? Johnny, the eldest boy? Mirren, sweet and adored?Well, they'll each take a share. But their mothers, beautiful as they are, would prefer that they each take the biggest share. They fight, and old grievances appear, and they rage, and they fight some more. They drink. They cry. They grieve for lost marriages and chances gone forever.And grandfather hangs his money over his daughters' heads like a threat from the old, (senile?) rotten man he is. The children, on the other hand, are a close-knit group. They are buddies and chums and love each other dearly. They are summer friends and they do not like being used against each other. And then comes Gat, nephew of one of the daughters' boyfriend, dark-haired, dark-skinned, New Yorker Gat. Gat, who Old Grandfather did not approve of. Gat, whoseemed spring-loaded. Like he was searching for something. He was contemplation and enthusiasm. Ambition and strong coffee. I could have looked at him forever.Gat, who had opinions and who wasn't rich and who thought a lot and who had dreams. Who liked Cadence. Who Cadence liked back. And then came summer fifteen, whom no one will talk about._

The main problem with this book is the way it is written. The choppy style mirrors the way Cadence thinks quite well, giving us a front-row seat into her head. On the other hand, Cadence is all we ever hear. The other characters (except for the Liars) aren't very rounded.

Why is Grandpa pitting the daughters' against each other? What are the aunts like, beyond the grabby, greedy people they are portrayed to be? What's Mum like, other than creepy, limiting and disapproving? What's Dad like, he who never appears?

I have to say, though, despite all these questions that crop up now as I write this, I quite enjoyed the book while I was reading it. It's good, though a bit slow in some places. Cadence is a whiny, sheltered little girl, but she grows and comes to terms with several things. Sometimes the scenes don't make sense, but eventually the important bits of the story do, and that'll have to be enough.

My favourite part of the book was, without a doubt, the ending. It was the kind of ending that left me feeling like I'd just passed one of those horrific accidents you can't tear your eyes away from. The ending made up for the inconsistencies and problems with the rest of the book, and it is the reason why I recommend it for your reading.

SummaryThe Good Parts: The ending, the Liars (especially Johnny), the writing (I like this style). The Bad Parts: The one-sided view of the characters, why were they called Liars?! and some disjointed and other weird scenes and things they did

It was good. Overall, pretty good. Dark and sometimes confusing, but otherwise good.

Cezar was bad, and Jena was smart and strong, or maybe I'm remembering this wrong. Costi, poor Costi, was dead until he wasn't.

I felt this was the love child of two well-known fairytales - The Twelve Princesses and The Frog Prince - and knowing what happens in the end does not detract at all from the wonder of the story anyway. It's Juliet Marillier, dear reader. She-who-be-perfect.

Read it and see.

Disclaimer: this review is insubstantial because I read this over a year ago. It's good, because I still remember it, and I'm contemplating a reread because why not?

I love the Arabian Nights story. I always have, and over the years I've read so many versions I can't remember which one is the original. I've got mixed feelings about Renée Ahdieh's retelling, and while most of my feelings are good, some parts just don't sit right.

But I need to start this with something a Goodreads user wrote in her review (which I can't find).
She wrote that she'd probably go crazy from One Thousand and One Nights of Cliffhangers - can you imagine the agony? - and I have to say I agree with her. If I'd been the Caliph, and the Calipha plagued me with cliffhangers every single night, I'd get rid of her just to end one story, at the very least.

Khalid doesn't feel the same way I do, though, and that's why we've got a story.

RATING: 68% love, 32% um-hello-what-happened-there?

Read the full review on Quote All The Books, my blog

One hundred lives for the one you took. One life to one dawn. Should you fail but a single morn, I shall take from you your dreams. I shall take from you your city.
And I shall take from you these lives, a thousandfold.

When I was a little girl in Thebes, I remember asking my mother what heaven was. She replied, ‘A heart where love dwells.' Of course, I then demanded to know what constituted hell. She looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘A heart absent love.”

The boy of ice and stone . . .
Who dashed her heart against a jagged shore, only to walk away without so much as a glance.

“If you'll tell me what it is you're planning, I can take you there,” Despina offered.
“I'm not planning anything. I'm looking for something.”
“What are you looking for?”
“A handmaiden who doesn't ask so many questions.”

That pesky 32%: I missed the part where they fell in love. And how old are they again?

Tariq remembered hearing tales of captives losing their will to their captors. Prisoners falling in love with their vanquishers. While he'd never believed in such a possibility before, it was the only thing that made sense of Shahrzad's behavior.
She was not herself. That palace, that world . . . that monster had taken away the girl Tariq loved and driven her to forget all she held dear.
He had to get her out of there. Soon.

The characters' ages.

For all its flaws, I'm happy I read the book.

Five POVs. FIVE (I don't think Ania counts, but she was an integral part of the story, so she's included). You'd think with so many different POVs, some from the past and some from the present, one would get confused.

I didn't. The retelling of Minka's life was seamlessly intertwined with the present-day story of Sage and Josef. For that alone, I would have kept reading. As it turns out, thinking about it now, I read it all because of so many things.

The prose was, as Jodi Picoult usually is, comfortable, descriptive, poetic and human, which is probably what drew me in. Minka's story of her life (and the lives of those around her) in Nazi Germany as a Jew was compelling, from the start when she lived as the daughter of a successful baker, to the end, when she was rescued from the concentration camp as a starving, ill-treated skeleton of a woman.

Sage's story is not quite so sad to read, and I enjoyed it, but the emotions she struggled with did confuse me - I was not entirely sure what it was she wanted to do, until she did it, which action blew me away.

Ah, the romance develops very slyly, behind the scenes as Minka tells her story. I had expected it to happen, but... well, I'd have liked to actually read about how it did, too.

Other than that, I want to read Minka's novel. Ania was one of my favourite characters, right after Minka. Leo struck me as a little cold when he was in Sage's perspective, but in his own POV he was endearing. Josef was the same, except towards the end he actually turns out to be quite a manipulative little old man (read: He tells Sage that he "had shot Darija and would have killed Minka, too, except his brother arrived" - and now that I know the ending, that line was so that Sage would make up her mind about their deal, wasn't it?).

On the whole, I enjoyed the book. 4/5 stars!

HOW DO YOU RATE A TRAINWRECK?!
A fabulous one, but a Trainwreck nevertheless.
A compelling one, but still a Trainwreck.
One you hate or love, but above all, is still - a - Trainwreck.
I don't even know if I liked it or not, despite my rating, and despite the glowing things I say in my review on Tumblr.

I cannot bear to review this again, not so soon. Just read my review of it here.

Wow. That was a pretty interesting ride.

Alex is made of loyalty, steel and love. Darla (I like that name now) is made of even more steel, even more loyalty, and a lot of fire, determination and practicality. I'm not sure who I love more.

This was one of the more solid series I've read in a while. I went in expecting, you know, typical YA fiction. I got YA fiction, yeah, but I also got more than I bargained for, because Ashfall just dug into me and refused to let go.

I liked the premise - supervolcano goes off and destroys the world with ash. Humanity starts to fall apart (as it always does), and people start to die almost right off the bat. Our hero starts off on a terrible, terrifying trek across the country to find his family, and instead finds himself running into more obstacles than he could have imagined - and golly, were they hugely bad or what? Psychotic, strong and very murderous...

And that's how Alex meets Darla.

___

Alex is very loyal. And practical, too. And made of steel. The whole book through, I was cheering him on: Go, Alex! Wait - don't forget to get supplies oh good boy. Wait, there's somebody there ooooh that must have hurt get him get him get him!!!

But, of course, he's a teenage boy in a world destroyed by ash, so he's also an idiot sometimes. I did feel like slapping him, but I think him being human just added to the appeal of the story.

Darla, I wanted to hug and never let her face danger again. She's so strong and logical and a genius with machines. Did I mention animal lover? I liked her rabbit.

The writing is very nice. Not flowery, but not dust-dry either. Like I said earlier, Ashfall brought out its claws, dug them in, and held me all the ride through.

I've even read the continuing two books - nearly all the way through. That doesn't happen often enough. I'm glad it happened here.

The Vorkosigan saga is like a blackhole - a delicious, wonderful, hilarious, delectable, page-turning, absolutely awesome series. I loved Aral and Cordelia in this book. Their adventure was realistic, enjoyable, tentative and sometimes heart-wrenching. The second book of their was equally good, if not better. Bujold's magic really shines in this saga, all the way through. I'm not sure how she managed to keep up the awesomeness through more than ten books, but she did, and I will always keep this saga on that special bookshelf in my heart where I store all the books that made me grow up just a little more (or a lot, here).

Every time I read a book from this series, it startles me that I can actually see the events taking place playing out. Miranda's voice actually jumped off the page at me. She's so vivid, and real and human, too - she complains, she worries, she sounds like a brat sometimes...

I did feel that the story was a little rushed this time. Especially the romances. I mean, come on, you might be the last few people left on earth, but professing your love after two or three days when you barely know each other is a little too much. Miranda doesn't even know that Alex has a second sister! And Syl - who is Syl? How old is she, what kind of life did she lead Before, what was her family like... Syl was basically ‘Matt's wife', and that's it. She wasn't Syl like Miranda was Miranda.

Other than that, I liked it a lot.

One huge problem I had with this book is that even though it says several times that the entire block, the entire city is deserted, Alex still doesn't get the idea of looting the houses and shops. I mean, if it were, that'd be the first thing I'd do, right after I see people leaving.

Other than that, the story was good. I felt like it read like a scenario that could definitely happen, given the right conditions were filled. Overall, like the prequel, The Dead and the Gone was alright.

My fave character : Julie. Smart mouth, lots of growth, awesome comments.

When I bought the book, it was November. When I actually got around to reading it, it was September of the next year, and I was desperate for something to read - anything would do, so long as it had words, pages and a story.

Safe to say Life As We Knew It kicked me hard. Seriously. I finished the book in four hours flat. That's pretty good for a book I reeeeally didn't want to read because it sounded stupid. I'm not saying it's one of my favourites, but it's definitely not what I'd expected (I expected it to be BAD).

I take back all previous negative statements. Not only is the story idea original (yes, yes, the cliche plot of world devastation has almost been sucked dry in recent years, but the moon being knocked off-kilter is a first for me, even if it's not scientifically correct), but the prose is good. Miranda actually sounds like she's sitting in front of me and telling me what's going on. From time to time I get reminded I'm reading a diary, when there's a really short entry for certain days.

Miranda is super interesting to read. She's got a vibrant personality (even if I felt like slapping her sometimes) and grows throughout the book. Her voice has a shape in my head now.

Nothing's particularly outstanding, I felt. This book, you've got to swallow it whole. No cutting it up, no skipping. Just read the whole thing, that's when the impact is greatest, I feel.

I liked it. The story's good (even if it took a while to get started), the world is well-written and realistic, and the characters actually have personalities. If you wanted an end-of-the-world book, then this'd probably be something you'd like.

Lady in Gil sucked me in right from the opening line. Like all good writers can, Rebecca Bradley brought Tigrallef to life - actually made him real. Tigrallef's personality - no, most chracters in this book are beautifully portrayed and rounded out rather well. I do wish Angel was filled out more, and so was Shree, but they were just side-characters, I suppose.

The prose was lively, entertaining full of good, chuckle-worthy punch lines and amusing conversations. Reading Tigrallef's train of thought is pleasant, because he's not another idiot who thinks predictably (in fact, I'm inclined to think he is partially insane).

Half the things he did, I didn't understand, but then again I was rushing to the next chapter all the time, so no wonder. One day, but not soon, I will go back and actually visualise and make sense of the tunnels and what Tigrallef did, but for now I am satisfied that I just read a good book. Even if Calla did die.

This was a strong book.

I don't know what about it was strong; it just felt that way to me. Maybe it was the way it was written - a little bit cold and removed, as if the author wanted you to remember that the story was about Alys, and didn't want you to get caught up on the story so much it felt that things were happening to you yourself.

The prose reminded me of Selendrile, the dragon. It sounded like the cold creatures dragons usually are.

The story begins with Alys worrying about her father, who is recovering from the coughing sickness. All of a sudden, the Inquisitor Atherton from Griswold walks in, drags her out and accuses her of being a witch. Of course, she's not really one, and is being framed by three people - Gower, the wheelwright and his family, people who are all really, well, nasty.

And of course, while the villagers doubt her at first, in the end, when Atherton leans on them, they all topple over and show him their necks, like the good, obedient little puppets they are. Not a single person stood up for Alys, the girl who'd spent her life with them.

I found that disturbing.

Then she meets Selendrile, and this is where the story really begins. Selendrile is impassive - it's like reading about a slightly expressive wall with a voice and the ability to change shapes. Anyway Alys and Selendrile set out on a mission to raze her village to the ground and burn everyone but the babies.

What I like about this story is that Alys is not entranced with Selendrile. It's not a story about a girl who falls in love with a dragonshifter; it's a story about an innocent criminal who seeks revenge with the dragon who was supposed to be her punishment (take that, evil Inquisitor! The punishment aides and abets the criminal!).

It was very short, though. And the ending was not at all satisfactory, leaving so many questions, like what does Selendrile do? Where does he live? What will he and Alys do?

Other than that, though, I liked the book. But not enough to read it over and over again.

XVI was interesting, but I think it's a little too slow for my taste. It took ages for the writer to get to the core of the story; it felt like half the book dealt with explanations on the world Nina lived in.

I didn't hate it, but it's one of the books I'm probably never going to read again.

From the very first sentence, you know that Beck is EXACTLY the kind of person who is bound to be hilarious, smart, and really mischievous. He's the small child the neighbours lamented over because he was inherently curious, always wondering what was going to happen if he threw several forbidden items into the cooking pot and lit a fire under.

Pillage begins with a prank that turns out to be rather funny, and then deepens to a funeral - poor Beck's mother dies (poor woman, not Beck. Of course, he's poor too - not materially, though. Money wise, he's rich). So Beck is carted off to a huge old manor in Kingsplot, where he discovers several interesting things about himself and his family (such as the fact that his entire family was completely, utterly, mind-bogglingly mad).

Anyway, I finished Pillage and Choke, the sequel, in one day. Actually, half a day. It wasn't a can't-it-down sort of book... I just really really really really like dragons. But if you like humour and sharp-tongues, read it. Beck's got enough mischief to fill two separate people and have some left over for pie.

This was a good book, but it wasn't what I look for in a page turner. I could put it down and walk away- in fact, after a few chapters, or headers, rather, I felt I NEEDED to take a break from it, or I'd explode from an info overload.

I liked the story, though. Simon was a very interesting character - and I enjoyed the plot, the other characters and he adventure as well. A good book, but a one-time read.

Oh, Sage was a treat. The main reason I read this book is because of his sharp, clever tongue and his striking personality.

The False Prince is a good book, honestly. At first I though, , no, Sage can't possibly be the real prince - his story doesn't match up. But when I reached the end, I realized that Jennifer Nielson did an excellent job of telling us enough without actually telling us the real situation - and the ending, though completely predictable, was worth it all.

When I found Dragon and Thief on goodreads, I saved it to my to-read list simply because it had “dragon” and “thief” in the title. I was winding down on my “thief” streak, and ready for a new binge - which turned out to be “dragon”s. (I am slightly obsessive with certain trends until their hold on me weakens; then, unless they are very good, I forget about them until years later).

The Dragonback series was the most fabulous start to any streak I have ever had.

What's really good about the Dragonback series is the way Draycos and Jack have such an amazing relationship. Right from the beginning, they just fit together - the reason for that is in the last book, Dragon and Liberator. Of course, though, nothing must ever go right - there must be a thorn in their side somewhere. This thorn presents itself in unhelpful, snide, manipulative, somewhat likable and grudging Uncle Virge, who tried at every opportunity to break apart Jack's friendship with his dragon-friend and ship said dragon off to the local police force along with the huge, bulky problem the dragon lugs along with him, all nicely wrapped and tied off with a lovely bow.

What does Jack say? Why, no, of course. Or there wouldn't be more than fifty pages in total (this is an approximation).

Anyway, you don't really get to Draycos' problem until Dragon and Slave, the second book. This first book is no less readable, though - in fact, it's even more amazing because it's your first taste of Draycos and Jack, and they always aim to please, yes?

Granted, the description is weird. And grammatically incorrect on so many levels. And it doesn't even tell you what the book is about properly. It's as if whoever wrote it decided to give us the important details and let us figure it out all on our own. I almost passed by the entire series because of that, honestly. I didn't, though, and IT WAS WORTH IT. Every. Single. Word.

Ah, I'm halfway through Dragon and Judge, so I bid thee farewell and good luck and well met. I hope you can find your way to the Dragonback friends on your own, though; methinks I'll be a little too busy reading.