Dear Ms. Walker,

While I’ve yet to read the first book in this series, Violet on the Runway, I enjoyed the second installment, Violet by Design, a great deal. So when Jane mentioned she’d received a copy and would be sending it on to me, I was very happy.

For readers new to the series, the Violet books are a young adult series about Violet Greenfield, a teenage wallflower who’s scouted to be an international runway model. What sets these books apart from other young adult “makeover” novels (in which the plain jane heroine is transformed into a hottie) is that Violet is portrayed as that insecure girl next door and never becomes anything less than real and sympathetic. She’s a conflicted heroine, torn between basking in the spotlight (a definite boost to the ego of a high school outcast) and realizing that maybe this isn’t the world for her.

Violet in Private picks up where Violet by Design left off, with Violet trying to leave the modeling world and start a normal life as a college girl by attending Vassar. But as she learned in the previous novel, saying she’s going to leave is much easier than doing it. Not only does she have an internship at a fashion magazine, she continues to deal with the fallout from being the headliner of a modeling campaign emphasizing healthy, natural beauty while embodying everything that’s wrong with the modelling industry. Violet had hoped to enjoy relative obscurity at Vassar but it turns out she’s not safe even there: she meets one of her biggest fans, and the hypocrisy inherent in her modeling campaign becomes the focus of debate in one of her classes. On top of that, she still struggles with her relationship with Roger, her childhood friend and the guy she’s grown to love.

I find it interesting that Violet’s characterization comes full circle here. She started as a plain jane wallflower, emerged as the next hot thing in industry, and now wants to return to a quieter, if not entirely normal, life. She’s all but isolated herself from the high-speed fashion world, no longer hitting the NYC clubs with her modeling friends and no longer jetsetting to different parts of the world to walk runways.

Even so, she still remembers she has a voice and influence that, when used, can become a force for good. She writes entries on her MySpace blog. In reaction to being ambushed in class about her marketing campaign, she writes a column for the college newspaper, which gets picked up by one of the larger papers and leads her to landing that magazine internship. She speaks to students about the fashion industry and its body image issues. Violet may be becoming a pariah in the fashion world, but I find her actions and choices a breath of fresh air.

I particularly liked how Violet struggles with her own body image issues. Since taking her modeling sabbatical and enjoying the college diet of junk food and alcohol, she’s obviously gained some weight. But since she was stick thin to begin with, this only results in her reaching a healthy, normal weight. Violet is over six feet tall. Expecting her to weigh 100 pounds is unreasonable and extremely unhealthy. But as shown in the previous book, an extra 10 pounds led to her “healthy beauty” marketing campaign sponsor telling her to lose weight and receiving the nickname of La Gordita from the fashion world. In Private, it’s even worse. Her agent scorns her. The fashion world gossips about her. Even her co-workers at the fashion magazine call her fat. It’s only another example of how distorted body image gets in the fashion world and by extension, in our society since we’re bombarded with these images every day.

I loved how Violet grows from the shy, unsure girl we first meet to someone who takes control and puts her foot down. Even though she becomes a fashion model, she remained the same on the inside, which is why Violet sometimes becomes a doormat, never saying no, always agreeing to what other people tell her to do. Violet standing up to her agent was a wonderful thing, and I could have cheered when she confronted Roger towards the end of the book. I don’t want to give away what happens but that scene drove home just much Violet has come into her own. The girl we first met would never have done or said what she did, and it was nice to see how much she’d grown. B+

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in trade paperback from Amazon or Powells or ebook format.

Dear Ms. Drake,

I’m afraid I’m reaching my saturation point for urban fantasy. If I never have to read about another demon, werewolf, or vampire ever again, I will be a happy woman. It’s not so much that I hate the trademark species of the paranormal subgenres; it’s the fact that lately I feel like I’ve been reading the same book over and over again, just by different authors. There are many readers who like that, and I don’t begrudge them their reading pleasure. It’s just that I sometimes wish we had more variety in plots and character types.

Mira is a six-hundred year old nightwalker, or vampire, who makes her territory in Savannah. While not on the level of an Ancient (vampires over 1,000 years old) or an Elder (the ruling vampires who govern the race), she commands an infamous reputation because she is able start fires using only her mind, earning her the nickname of the Fire Starter.

A few centuries ago, Mira was imprisoned and tortured by the naturi, or faeries, who are the enemies of the vampires. While she can remember her time in the naturi’s captivity, she can’t recall the day she was rescued except for a few details. This becomes crucial when a legendary vampire hunter named Danaus shows up in town, bringing with him the very same naturi who tortured Mira all those years ago — and whom Mira believed she’d already killed. It turns out Danaus needs her help. The naturi are seeking a way to break out of their supernatural prison and unlike previous attempts, they’re close to succeeding. Bad news for the vampires because they’re at one of their weakest points in history.

I really enjoyed the mythos introduced in this novel. The cosmology consists of two ruling races: the naturi (faeries) and the bori (angels and demons). In this hierarchy, werewolves serve the naturi, although slaves would be a more accurate description, and vampires are on the side of the bori, although they enjoy a similar status as werewolves as well. I’m not too clear on what exactly happened to the bori; all I know is that they are no longer present for one reason or another. I do know the majority of the naturi were magically sealed in another realm, and those who managed to escape imprisonment have been trying to free their queen and the rest of their people ever since.

The interesting worldbuilding is one of the reasons why the actual plot disappointed me a little. We have yet another kickbutt heroine surrounded mostly by men, many of whom adore her, hate her, or both love and hate her at the same time. I think this is rapidly becoming one of the genre’s conventions I would gladly do without. What’s wrong with a little more female presence? For that matter, what’s wrong with a little more female presence that’s not considered antagonistic to the lead heroine’s role? I refuse to believe it’s impossible for an urban fantasy heroine to be friends with another woman, but books in which this is the case seem to be the exception rather than the rule.

Mira’s quest to stop the naturi resulted in globetrotting travels that I enjoyed while reading but in retrospect, find unsatisfying. The travelling to Egypt and London, plus mentions of Spain and Machu Picchu, were a nice change from the settings we typically find in this subgenre but at the same time, they seemed more like exotic wallpaper than actual settings that impacted the characters and events.

I normally don’t comment on the prose itself but there was trait in the writing here that didn’t work for me. Ultimately, it ended up preventing me from fully enjoying the narrative. Nightwalker is told from the first person past tense point of view from Mira. I enjoy first person POV, and there is nothing I love more than a very distinctive narrative voice. On the other hand, I think it also calls attention to narrative flaws more easily than its third person counterpart. At times in the novel, we are immersed in the action-packed narrative and it proceeds at a brisk, snappy pace. But at other times, the narrative will slow as Mira lapses into telling mode and tells us things that, as readers, not only do we already know but also things that will happen in the future, sort of the opposite of a flashback. Maybe a flash forward. I personally hate that, especially when I’m more interested in the events taking place in the here and now, rather than what could or will happen in the future.

I think it’s very obvious this is the first in a series. Many of the things that bothered me — the globetrotting to various locales without much cultural immersion, the introduction of several characters with only superficial relationship development — can be attributed to setting up a world and the conflict. But then I ask myself what ever happened to books that stand well alone? I don’t think we should give passes to books just because they’re the first in a series but sometimes I think we do. All things considered, it failed to live up to its potential for me. C+

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in mass market from Amazon or Powells or ebook format.

Dear Ms. Liu,

I’m a fan of your Dirk and Steele series, so I’ve been looking forward to your urban fantasy debut for a long time. I’ve always found your paranormal romances to be very action packed so I assumed the transition to urban fantasy would be an easy one. Good thing I didn’t bet any money on that.

A long time ago, demons once walked the earth but through the combined efforts of demon hunters and godlike beings, they were imprisoned behind a veil that keeps their realm separate from our own. There used to be many wardens who kept the demonic prisoners in check but now there is only one: Maxine Kiss.

Maxine comes from a line of hunters whose progenitor struck a deal with the very same demons they fight. This pact is embodied by the tattoos that cover Maxine’s body. By day, the tattoos form impenetrable armor; by night, the tattoos come alive and her demon bodyguards take flesh. The only catch is that the demon tattoos are passed down from mother to daughter, and once the exchange is made, the now-defenseless mother often becomes target practice for the demons she once hunted down.

I have read the “Hunter Kiss” novella in the Wild Thing anthology and while I had mixed feelings about it, I didn’t let that deter me from picking up The Iron Hunt. I try not to let an author’s forays into shorter fiction prejudice me against their longer works because in the end, they’re different beasts that require different skill sets.

On the other hand, I shouldn’t have let my opinions about your previous work influence my expectations for your newer work. They’re in different genres and the Hunter Kiss series is told in a very different style from what I’ve come to expect from you. To be honest, I was put off by it initially. From early in the prologue:

It was not her fault. There was a blizzard. Six hours until sunset, lost on a twisting county road. Bad map. No visibility. Black ice, winds howling down.

I remembered. Slammed against my seat belt. Station wagon plowing into a drift, snow riding high as my window. Metal crunching: the edge of the bumper, the front tire, my door. Beneath us, a terrible reverberating crack.

Lodged. Busted. Dead on our wheels. More than dead. My mother showed me spikes packed into the snow and ice. Tiny metal stars, so sharp the points pricked my palm when I bent to touch one. She pointed out the tires, torn into scrap, ribbons of rubber. Told me not to worry. Called it a game.

I don’t know about other readers but I have a difficult time reading extremely choppy prose. And when a book opens with a barrage of fragments, I find myself unable to sink into the story. I’ll even admit it took me a couple tries to figure out what exactly had caused the car crash. Maybe that makes me a dumb reader, but it’s the truth. I have no doubt this was a deliberate choice to write in a terse style but I’m afraid it was overkill for me.

On the other hand, later in the novel, there were some passages that I loved and that I found more indicative of the writing style I’ve grown to expect from your books:

Later, I understood why my mother ripped those pages from her diary.

There were things I could never confess. Not to my daughter, should I live long enough to have one—and not to Grant. Not the boys, though I suspected they could read my mind. Some thoughts, the ones that lingered, were better left as ghosts.

Some things should remain beneath the skin.

I felt the prose became more relaxed as the book continued and while I’m certainly no judge of the amount of work an author puts into her writing, I couldn’t help but think the initial chapters felt labored and anxious, like they were trying too hard to make a splash. I found myself wishing the prose would just relax a little so I could fully enjoy the story.

I honestly wanted to like Maxine. Demonic tattoos that come to life? The stuff of speculative fiction, and I’m certainly down with that. Unfortunately, I found her character bland and boring. She is neither the kickbutt, if sometimes annoying, heroine we’ve come to expect from urban fantasy nor is she the reluctant hero that so often stars in fantasy novels. She was just there, flat and lifeless on the page with no good points or bad points to distinguish her from her UF peers.

In fact, I found myself more interested in the story of Maxine’s mother. Not only was she by all accounts one badass mama, she had to raise a daughter that wasn’t quite right and that even demons said she should kill and replace with another, all the while knowing that one day she would die because of that child. That story would have been different and interesting. We don’t have enough badass mamas in urban fantasy, in my opinion.

As it was, I had to content myself with the bland Maxine and her equally boring boyfriend, the former priest Grant. Never have I encountered a couple with so little sexual tension or attraction. As far as I was concerned, they could have just been roommates and it wouldn’t have made an impact on the story.

Combined with a plot that took a little too long to come together, a narrative that frankly lost me in places, and underdeveloped references to Sumerian myth that may or may not have been intentional (honestly, you can’t use the name Enkidu without me wondering if the character in question actually is the man-beast from the Gilgamesh story), I ended up sorely disappointed. I think readers expecting the UF equivalent of Dirk and Steele will feel similarly but maybe readers wanting a more middle of the road protagonist might find something to like here. C-

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in mass market from Amazon or Powells or ebook format.

Dear Ms. Ione,

I’m not exactly sure what I expected of new Demonica paranormal series, but a story sounded in a demon hospital sounded interesting so I decided to give it a shot. What I found was a read that, for the most part, I found lively and entertaining, even if I sometimes found myself asking, “Wait, did that part really make sense?”

Eidolon is the eldest of three incubus brothers. Although he currently works as a doctor in the aforementioned demon hospital, he is rapidly approaching the final stage of his life cycle, which will result in him becoming a raging sex demon whose sole purpose in life is to get women — no matter the species — pregnant. It doesn’t sound too bad at first mention but then we learn that incubi who reach this stage usually go insane and end up raping everything in sight. As this often results in their being hunted down by the raped women’s enraged family members, Eidolon isn’t looking forward to it. The only way to circumvent this is by taking a mate but Eidolon’s been looking for a long time, and he’s all but given up.

Enter Tayla Mancuso. Tayla is an Aegis Guardian, a society of hunters whose life’s work is to take out demons. One night, against all reason, she’s brought into Eidolon’s hospital and because the very charter Eidolon helped write requires it, not only does he not kill Tayla, he heals her. But in doing so, he discovers something peculiar. It turns Tayla is half-demon herself and if she doesn’t assimilate the demonic DNA soon, she will die. For her part, Tayla knows something is wrong with her body. She’s been suffering from episodes in which she loses control of her body and in fact, the latest one resulted in the gruesome death of her partner.

Even more pressing is the fact that someone is killing demons and harvesting their bodies of organs. The demons think it’s the Aegi but Tayla insists it’s not them. So Eidolon and Tayla reluctantly team up to find the real culprit.

Despite the fact that I really wanted to like Tayla, I found some aspects of her character a little silly. Red leather? Really? I realize black leather is something of a cliché in the paranormal/urban fantasy subgenres, but it’s a staple for a reason. I just can’t imagine a stealthy hunter skulking around in the shadows dressed in red leather. Paired with Tayla’s described red hair, I found myself wondering if she was cosplaying as Red Sonja. And when she broke out the line about red leather hiding blood better, I afraid that statement wiped out any street cred her character might have had as a big, bad demon hunter.

In addition, Tayla has a specific sexual intimacy issue and this proves to be a roadblock in her burgeoning, but unwanted, relationship with Eidolon. Now perhaps this is my fault because I read the clues wrong and drew the incorrect conclusion, but I’d expected her intimacy issues stemmed from her half-demon heritage. In fact, I would have preferred this because not only is it a little different from the conventions we often encounter in the genre, but it made sense in what I’d interpreted to be Tayla’s character development with regards to her assimilating both sides of her parentage.

Instead, it’s revealed that Tayla’s intimacy issues are a result of past trauma. Not only are the reasons a bit unoriginal, the resolution of those issues occurred far too quick for me to completely buy. I just don’t see ten years of trauma being healed by a five minute pep talk and healing sex.

Even though I think the plot excelled at reversals — the morning after Tayla and Eidolon first successfully have sex was something to behold — I also felt the end suffered from obvious set-up for succeeding novels. While I understand that some loose ends are needed for the other two incubus brothers’ stories, I also think some plotlines were just left dangling. Combined with a final chapter that was a little too care bear for my states, this ended up being a C+ for me.

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in mass market from Amazon or Powells. No ebook format.

Dear Ms. Saintcrow,

While I haven’t finished your Dante Valentine series, I enjoyed enough of what I read to seek out the first book in your new Jill Kismet series. I’ve said in the past that I do like reading about unsympathetic characters provided they’re compelling and the text doesn’t want me to believe the character’s destructive behaviors are healthy and idealized. It’s when these things diverge that I often have the more violent reactions to books, like flinging them across the room. When a character is unlikeable, I want them to face the results of their flaws. I don’t want to read about them getting pats on the head for a job well done because chances are the job was not well done and they should be facing repercussions. So having read your Dante Valentine books, I knew what to expect in this regard. Unfortunately, I also learned I have my limits.

Jill Kismet works as a hunter, taking down demons and bringing in the possessed to be exorcised. Six months ago, her mentor was betrayed and killed by his lover. She’s been trying to live up to his memory ever since, and those are big shoes to fill. Before her mentor died, Jill struck a deal with the ruling demon of the city. In exchange for letting him mark her wrist, she gets increased strength and speed. The downside is now she’s part demon, and she has to spend time with the demon once a month and expose herself to his corrupting influence.

But the past six months have left their toll. Jill is sleep-deprived, overworked, and overextended. Matters are made worse when a series of murders tear through the city. The murders are strange; they reek of demon but look like the work of a rogue shapeshifter. This is problematic because demons and shapeshifters don’t mix, so Jill has to figure out what exactly is going on because it’s nothing good.

As with the Dante Valentine books, this has a very cinematic, neo-goth noir feel to it. There are entire scenes and sequences which could have come out of a movie. Even Jill’s get-up — the leather coats, charms braided into her hair, and bullwhip — could easily have come out of a post-Crow movie. This sort of thing doesn’t bother me but I can see how people with lower tolerances would find Jill’s ability to remain silent despite the amount of jewelry braided into her hair (and I got the impression there was a lot) borderline preposterous.

While I enjoyed the plot, I had difficulty warming up to Jill as a narrator. Like I said, I’m perfectly fine with unsympathetic characters provided they’re done well. But Jill is such a broken character, and I had a hard time dredging up the energy to remain interested in her character growth. Part of me feels that her damage made her character swing so far out into unsympathetic land, I simply could not grasp her motivations. My inability to really connect with Jill’s character might also explain why this book struck me as cinematic. It was almost like I was watching someone else’s actions instead of experiencing them.

One thing I did especially like was how the gender roles in the Jill and Saul relationship were flipped. Their relationship reminds me of those movies where the jaded, world-weary killer finds a gentle, kind woman to take care of him: tending his wounds, cooking his meals, cleaning his house. That said, I really would have liked to see more of why Saul decided to settle on Jill. As a shapeshifter, there are some definite complications in his choosing her and since I had a difficult time grasping Jill, I could not understand why he’d bother. It felt like he went from snarling at her to treating her like a mate in the blink of an eye. Even though the story is told from Jill’s point of view, I needed a few more clues to fully buy the romantic subplot.

Another thing I missed was more substantial worldbuilding. I loved the worldbuilding in the Dante Valentine series and expected to see those skills at play here. Instead I got a setting I didn’t get much of a feel for and truthfully, seemed rather generic in the darker fantasy landscape. This really disappointed me. I have no idea if this is a brand new world, in which case I feel like the worldbuilding needed a little something extra to set it apart, or if it was set in the Dante Valentine world, in which case I wish there’d been more hints pointing to it.

Despite my problems with the book, I don’t regret reading it. I just wish it’d been a little more substantial and that Jill Kismet hadn’t put me off so much. C

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in mass market from Amazon or Powells or ebook format.

[Jia's Note: The English translation was done by Cathy Hirano.]

Dear Ms. Uehashi,

With the increasing popularity of manga and anime in the West, it only makes sense that Japanese novels would follow. I first heard about your ten-volume Moribito (Guardian) series via various blogs discussing the anime adaptation of the first book, Guardian of the Spirit. The premise sounded interesting so when I heard the book was going to be released in English, I asked for a review copy.

First off, I want to say I know translation is difficult. While I’ve read about the various conflicts that arise out of English adaptations of manga and anime, both of those are still highly visual mediums. I imagine novels, where the storytelling vehicle is purely textual, are much harder. Something is bound to get lost in the translation, and I’m aware of that.

Even so, I couldn’t help but notice how dependent on exposition this book’s narrative is. I usually dislike that in my books, but I have a feeling this is a cultural difference. I also realize this is a childrens/young adult novel so I think my criticisms regarding the clunky text might be similar to those complaints leveled by readers of the Harry Potter series. So keep that in mind.

Balsa is a skilled spearwielder. When she was a child, eight lives were lost needlessly to protect her and as a result, she vowed to save eight lives to make up for it. Since then, she’s worked as a bodyguard. Then one day, she saves the life of Chagum, the Second Prince of New Yogo, from an accident in which he almost drowned. While spending the night at the palace as a reward, the prince’s mother, the Second Queen, asks Balsa to protect her son. It turns out the Star Gazers, advisors to the emperor, believe Chagum has been possessed by a demon and must be killed. Balsa inadvertently thwarted the second assassination attempt in nearly as many weeks.

But when Balsa agrees and takes Chagum away, their journey reveals the truth. Chagum hasn’t been possessed by a demon. Instead, he carries the egg of the water spirit, a godlike creature responsible for bringing rain to the land. Failing to protect the egg will result in catastrophe. Because the water spirit lays its egg shortly before it dies, already the land begins to suffer from drought. And so Balsa’s mission to protect Chagum takes on new importance — not only because she must protect her charge from imperial assassins but she must also keep him safe from the Rarunga, creatures from the spirit world that love to eat the eggs of the water spirit.

The mythology and worldbuilding truly are the highlights here. You don’t encounter these concepts in Western fantasy very often. The cosmology is based on the existence of two separate realms — Sagu, the human visible world, and Nayugu, the invisible spirit world — that nevertheless can interact. The water spirit is not cast as a humanoid god but rather as a giant shellfish that lives in a river in Nayugu and whose breath gives rise to clouds in Sagu. It’s very original, and I really liked that.

The author’s biography mentions a background in cultural anthropology and I think that comes through here. Not only in the mythology which I found exotic and alien, but also in the plight of the Yakoo, the people native to the peninsula that Chagum’s ancestors colonized. Due to intermingling with the Yogoese, the Yakoo’s culture’s is dying out and the traditional folklore is slowly being lost. This is driven home when that lost knowledge is exactly what Balsa and her companions need to save Chagum from sharing the fate of previous guardians. (Yup, they all died in gruesome ways — usually ripped apart by the Rarunga’s claws.)

I’ve been reading more young adult novels lately so this shouldn’t surprise me but I was struck by the level of sophistication in Moribito’s thematic arcs. Not only do we have the cultural clash between the Yogoese and Yakoo, we also have the cultural decay of the Yakoo’s traditions. As if that weren’t enough, there’s also the destiny of Chagum, who didn’t choose to be second prince, or to be a guardian the water spirit’s egg. This especially comes into play at the end of the book when Chagum finds he must bear yet another destiny not of his own choosing.

And finally, there is Balsa and her vow to save eight lives to make up for the lives lost to protect her. This story could have stayed simple and clear cut — Balsa’s protection of Chagum is a reflection of the way she was protected as a child, after all — but it doesn’t. Instead, the story presents the grim reality — that in this world, to protect a life, you often have to take one in return and that being a hero isn’t glamorous at all.

But I admit what charmed me most was the relationship between Balsa and Tanda, the Yakoo healer and apprentice magic weaver she grew up with:

“I wish this winter could never end but spring is coming.”

“And then we’ll say goodbye to peace and quiet. Rarunga will wake, and it will be do or die.”

Tanda gazed at her. “You’re right. From now on, we’ll be fighting for our very lives.” Then he added, “If we survive, why don’t we stay together, the three of us, just like this winter?”

Balsa’s eyes wavered. Tanda said quietly, “I’ve been waiting all this time. You know that. I thought I would wait until you fulfilled your vow.” His eyes suddenly filled with something that could have been either sorrow or anger. “But I’ve begun to think maybe you’ll never come back, no matter how long I wait. Your life has become one long, bloody battle. Somewhere along the line you started to fight just for the sake of fighting.”

Balsa did not answer, but in her heart she knew that he was right. The fighting impulse had penetrated the very marrow of her bones. During the winter, there had been times when she had been burning for a fight. She smiled wryly. “What should I do? Do you have any medicine that can cure me?”

Tanda smiled bleakly and shook his head. “If you can’t believe I could be that medicine, then there’s no point in waiting, is there?”

Even though this book works well as a standalone, I have to be honest. I sincerely hope the rest of the series gets translated so I can find out what happens to Balsa, who continues her semi-justified wandering, and Tanda, who despite everything he says, still chooses to wait for her. B-

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in paperback from Amazon or Powells. No ebook format.

Dear Ms. Carey,

I loved the original Kushiel trilogy. I found the heroine Phèdre nó Delaunay, her story as a premier courtesan and the only anguisette in generations, and the Terre D’Ange setting fascinating and compelling. All those things were enough to keep me reading the second trilogy about her adopted son, Imriel, despite the fact I never found him quite as interesting.

Imriel de la Courcel nó Montrève has spent his entire life burdened by the past. He’s the son of the traitorous, Melisande Shahrizai, whose manipulative plots sent Terre D’Ange into a war that nearly destroyed it. As a child, he was sold into slavery to a man who elevated perversion and abuse to an artform. And finally, he was saved from that bondage and raised to adulthood by Phèdre and her consort, Joscelin, who are considered heroes of the realm. In short, he has a lot of baggage and his narrative makes sure you know this again and again.

That’s more than enough issues for him to work through but in the previous two books of the trilogy, Kushiel’s Scion and Kushiel’s Justice, Imriel found himself with another burden — one that was as delightful as it was troublesome. He fell in love with Sidonie, his cousin and heir to the throne of Terre D’Ange. If there was anyone he shouldn’t have fallen in love with, it was her. Given his mother’s actions, very few people would see his affections as genuine and anything other than a power play for the crown.

In Terre D’Ange, there is one sacred precept and one alone: Love as thou wilt. But Imriel and Sidonie both violated it, choosing instead duty over love. When that choice brought nothing but disaster, Imriel and Sidonie then embarked on the difficult journey to follow their hearts. Not only do they have to contend with those who haven’t forgotten Melisande’s deeds, they have to face the wrath of Sidonie’s mother, Queen Ysandre, who hands down a decree. She will not acknowledge the relationship between Imriel and Sidonie and if Sidonie marries Imriel, then she will be disinherited. But if Imriel can track down his missing mother and bring her back to Terre D’Ange to be executed, then he can marry Sidonie. Tough love coming from a woman who married someone the realm found inappropriate, if you ask me, but as Imriel’s story shows time and time again, the past has a way of affecting the present.

Imriel reluctantly accepts Ysandre’s task but the quest to find his mother is interrupted when the foreign country of Carthage makes friendly overtures towards Terre D’Ange. But everything is not as it seems and Carthage’s actions soon send the world into chaos as they cause Terre D’Ange to become divided against itself. And through a rare sign of affection from his wayward mother, Imriel is the only person able to fix it.

As I mentioned earlier, I just don’t find Imriel as compelling a narrator as Phèdre. He’s more likeable and grounded, which makes him a less polarizing character. At the same time, I think that results in an inability to induce the same love or hate in readers that Phèdre’s character did. To be honest, I find Imriel’s long bouts of brooding trying and often want to say to him, “Cheer up, emo kid.” And that sentiment characterizes my feelings towards the first 200 pages of the book. They were tedious and dull. Not enough to make me stop reading — the books have earned my trust enough that they get more leeway in this regard — but enough to make me wish something interesting would happen. After all, no reader wants an overall good trilogy to end on a bad note.

Thankfully, when Carthage makes its power play, the story’s scope changes in a spectacular fashion. After that point, I all but sped through the book. Without revealing too many details to those who have yet to read the novel, I thought the method used to disguise Imriel from Carthage’s head magic user was very clever and allowed readers to see the romance between Imriel and Sidonie from an outsider’s point of view while also letting readers watch them fall in love all over again. For the first time, I felt like we’d revisited the intense drama and peril that characterized Phèdre’s trilogy. I just wish it didn’t take quite so long to get there — both in the book itself and the entire Imriel trilogy.

One of the things I loved about the original trilogy was the fact that the final book, Kushiel’s Avatar, reflected many things that had occurred in the previous two. So I am very pleased to find that same reflection here. Not only did Kushiel’s Mercy mirror events from the previous two Imriel books but it touched upon Phèdre’s trilogy as well. Imriel and Sidonie’s quest to find the word to free a demon reflects Phèdre and Joscelin’s quest to learn the One-God’s name to seal an angel. Ysandre sought to free the capital city of Elua from an external siege; Imriel and Sidonie from an internal one. Ysandre’s marriage to Drustan united two countries, and Imriel’s love for Sidonie bridges past and present and allows old wounds to heal.

Despite my initial misgivings, Kushiel’s Mercy lived up to the promise of its predecessors and provided a fitting ending to a great series. While cynics might find the romance a little too sentimental for their tastes, the relationship between Imriel and Sidonie shows that love knows no bounds, distance, or boundaries, and that it can conquer any obstacle. Certainly not the worst message to impart, and most definitely an uplifting one. B

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in hard cover rom Amazon or Powells or ebook format (Mobipocket and MSLit).

Dear Ms. Showalter,

Even though the prequel and first book of your Lords of the Underworld series failed to impress me, I wasn’t ready to give up on such a great premise. I hoped one of the later installments would work better for me. With this second book in the series, I have to say I’m glad I made that choice.

Times are tough for the Lords of the Underworld. Their bosses, the Greek gods, have been overthrown and locked in Tartarus. Their new overlords, the Titans, are harsh masters. One of their number has been driven insane (more than usual, anyway) by an order handed down by Cronus, the Titans’ leader. Hunters are intent on destroying them by finding Pandora’s Box, the very object that cursed the Lords to becoming demon-holding vessels in the first place. Their only hope is to find Pandora’s Box before their enemies do but that task is easier said than done.

Lucien leads the faction of Lords that live in Budapest. He holds the demon of Death inside him and it’s his duty to escort souls to the afterlife, whether that be heaven or hell. Long ago, when being a demon vessel was still new, he fell in love with a woman. It didn’t last long; she contracted a disease and became mortally ill. Even though Lucien knew he had to usher her soul to the afterlife, he couldn’t let her go and as a result, she lived weeks beyond the time she should have died. Soon her existence became excruciatingly painful and her love changed to hate. After Lucien finally performed his duty, he scarred his face and body to make him unattractive to the opposite sex and thus spare himself from going through that experience again.

Anya is the minor goddess of anarchy. Daughter of the goddess of lawlessness, she unfortunately shares her mother’s reputation for promiscuity. However, Anya is also the illegitimate daughter of Tartarus, the guard of the gods’ prison, and she bears the final gift of his paternal love: a key that opens any lock in existence. Because of this key, Anya is a danger to the Titans because she is the only one capable of freeing the gods from their prison — never mind the fact she couldn’t care less. She’s already freed the only people she cares about (her parents) and would rather leave the rest of the gods, who treated her poorly, to rot. But Cronus refuses to take that risk and orders Lucien to kill her.

I was pleasantly surprised by Lucien and Anya. While I usually like opposites attract storylines, Anya was so over the top wild, I initially found her interactions with the solemn and serious Lucien to be silly. And in some respects they remained borderline ridiculous but as I continued reading, I discovered I was having too much fun to care. Anya’s irreverent nature went a long way to balancing the unrelenting angst that can plague a series with this concept. That was part of my problem with the previous book. As I get older, my tolerance for unrelieved angst-filled brooding and posturing gets lower and lower. So it was nice to have a heroine like Anya who didn’t mind calling out Lucien when he let himself get carried away.

Unaware of his inner turmoil, Anya glanced around the room. “While throwing your tantrum, did you destroy our supplies for the Arctic?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe I once thought you were too controlled. Seriously, learn some self-discipline, for gods’ sake. You should be embarrassed.”

“I am.”

“Good.”

On the other hand, I hope I’m not picking up on a pattern that will continue throughout the series. Like Ashlyn of the previous book, Anya is a virgin. Now I can buy an inexperienced heroine with an experienced hero. That’s not my problem. I’m just not sure I can believe that every single couple of a series will follow this dynamic. I think romance readers are ready for more variety for that. Secondly, while Ashlyn’s reasons for remaining a virgin made sense, Anya’s reasons seemed very contrived. It felt like they existed for the sole purpose of keeping her “pure” for the hero, and I like to think we’re past that convention as readers.

Without the clunky setup and worldbuilding that plagued the previous book, I thought The Darkest Kiss was much better focused. The conflict of Lucien having to kill Anya and Anya not wanting to give up the All-Key carried through the entire book. That said, the ending was a letdown and I couldn’t help but wonder why Lucien didn’t do what he ultimately chose to do in the first place. It sounded like it would have saved Anya and him a lot of grief and trouble.

Even though some plot logistics and explanations (the reason for the butterfly tattoos) really bothered me, I still had a lot of fun reading this book. Sometimes you read the right book at the right time, and you end up liking it more than you would otherwise and vice versa. Maybe I’m just being easy today but a B- for me.

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in mass market from Amazon or Powells or ebook format.

Dear Ms. Pfeffer,

Your previous novel, Life As We Knew It, completely blew me away. Your vision of earth overcome by a disrupted climate affected me in a way that hasn’t happened in a very long time. And since I can’t get enough of apocalyptic settings, no matter the genre, I was beside myself when excitement when I heard you were writing a companion novel.

The premise of both Life As We Knew It and the dead and the gone is deceptively simple. An asteroid crashes into the moon but instead of being the simple astronomical event previously predicted, the larger-than-expected asteroid knocks the moon out of its orbit. It doesn’t crash into earth or anything so dramatic; it just shifts the orbit closer. But sometimes the simplest things can have the most disastrous results. A closer lunar orbit means a stronger gravitational pull, which leads to tsunamis and volcanic eruptions in places where tsunamis and volcanic eruptions typically don’t occur, in addition to those places where they do.

And those are just the natural disasters. Humankind is very good at creating its own brand of disaster, and this comes in the form of widespread panic. Gas, food, and supplies are all soon at a premium and it readily becomes apparent that people become far less than civilized when survival is at stake. Not that I blame them.

the dead and the gone follows Alex Morales, a 17-year-old student who attends a New York City Catholic high school. Coming from a poor, Puerto Rican family, Alex is used to working hard for what he wants, and what he wants is to succeed. But his carefully laid plans for senior year and college are destroyed when an asteroid crashes into the moon. At first he dismisses it as an astronomical novelty and continues to do so even when news brings word of panic and the moon’s new, closer orbit. After all, he has other, more immediate, problems he needs to worry about.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t last for long. The tsunamis caused by the closer lunar orbit hit close to home. Alex loses contact with his father, who’s in Puerto Rico for his grandmother’s funeral. His mother, a nurse, has yet to come home. He’d have no specific reason to worry if it weren’t the fact his father’s small hometown is situated on the Puerto Rican coast which was devastated by tsunamis and the New York City subway tunnels flooded around the time his mother should have been on her way home. Fearing the worst, now Alex not only has to take care of himself but his two younger sisters, Brianna and Julie, as well.

As I mentioned, Life As We Knew It wowed me. Never has a book so made me want to rush out to the store to buy emergency supplies in case of a world-ending event. Even the occasional warnings and alert levels announced by the U.S. government have never done that. So you could say I went into this book with very high expectations. Maybe I shouldn’t have. In some respects, I’m a little let down.

Don’t get me wrong. the dead and the gone is a good book. I enjoyed following Alex’s trials and travails as he struggles to survive in a wrecked New York City and I liked watching how he matures through those obstacles. He has to worry about his sisters and their welfare; where their next meal is coming from; and more importantly, how they’re going to stay together and out of social services’ eye when they’re all minors. All while he tries to keep his remaining family together when hopes of his parents coming back alive begin to die.

Unlike its predecessor, however, not once did this book keep me on the edge of my seat. It might be because while the two books take place concurrently, real time has passed in between for this reader. I already know what disasters happen on a global scale. The tidal waves, the volcanic eruptions, the layer of ash blocking out the sun, the flu epidemic. I knew these things were going to happen and I think that really affected how I processed this book. It wasn’t a matter of what happens next as much as it was a matter of how are they going to deal with this.

Another difference is that while Life As We Knew It was written in diary format, the dead and the gone is written in third-person point of view. I like both perspectives equally but the third-person narrative here didn’t affect me on an emotional level like Life As We Knew It’s diary format did. Other readers may feel differently, especially those who dislike first person point of views and epistolary formats. But for me, the third person point of view distanced me from what was happening to Alex and in the end, detracted a bit from my ultimate enjoyment of the novel.

One major difference between this book and its predecessor that I did like, however, was that unlike Miranda, Alex is the one placed in a position of responsibility and authority. Without his parents, he’s the oldest in the family. Without his father, he’s the man of the family. So while he’s always taken on leadership roles during his academic career, he learns for the first time what being a leader in the real world is really like and that sometimes you can’t have what you want because life gets in the way and you can’t do anything about it. That what makes you strong is how you cope, adapt, and continue on with your life.

Despite some similarities, I did like how we saw another side of the food handout lines (as well as the chaotic aftermath) and the flu epidemic. The urban landscape of the dead and the gone is very different from the previous novel’s rural setting and I think the differences are portrayed well and used to great effect. But I think readers who expect another Life As We Knew It might be a little disappointed. Those who haven’t read the other, however, might find Alex’s tale as harrowing and terrifying as I found Miranda’s. B

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in hardcover from Amazon or Powells or ebook format.

Dear Ms. Ward,

It might be an understatement to say your previous novel, Lover Unbound, elicited some very passionate reactions from readers. I can’t say I disagree with those criticisms. Even though I ended up liking the book because it developed John Matthew’s storyline, the main romance drove me insane for so many reasons, some of which were covered in Jane’s review. You could say Lover Unbound confirmed a suspicion I’ve always had about regarding the Black Dagger Brotherhood series, and I was waiting to see if Lover Enshrined would support it. It did.

I have two confessions to make. When I first picked up Dark Lover, I didn’t particularly like it. I was interested enough to pick up the next one in the series, but I never quite understood the reception the first book received. I still don’t. But more importantly, my second confession is this: If I read for the romance, I would never have kept reading this series. The only romance that ever worked for me was that of Zsadist and Bella, and even then their actual book disappointed me because I thought Bella’s character arc was short-changed in favor of Zsadist’s. But I think we’ve covered the series’s shallow treatment of its heroines in favor of the male characters enough here at Dear Author, so I won’t go into that.

So in the end, I think Lover Enshrined is the perfect example for what I’m talking about — should you read this series for the romance? Or should you read it for the continuing storylines? My opinion? If you’re still reading this series for the romance, I honestly don’t know what’s keeping you coming back for more. You guys are being cheated.

Frankly, I thought the romance between Phury and Cormia was boring. Not only did their scenes comprise such a small fraction of the book that touting this as Phury and Cormia’s book is laughable, I found their romance insipid and stupid. Cormia continues the BDB’s heroine tradition of having an underdeveloped character arc and Phury… Oh, where to begin?

In the previous book, I thought Phury took a slight detour into CrazyLand. Slicing and dicing people in alleyways behind garbage dumpsters? To me, that’s set up for Serial Killer, not Romance Hero. Then in this book, we learn he’s probably always been crazy. We just didn’t notice. I appreciate the fact the book tried to tackle the hard topic of addiction but I have to be honest. Instead of feeling sympathy for Phury’s drug dependence, I was revolted and wondered when he would snap and kill everyone or himself. And maybe that was the intention but in terms of a romance hero, I don’t find those traits very appealing and I think it would take a highly skilled writer to make those elements work.

On the other hand, I thought the secondary storylines were nicely developed. For the first time, I actually felt like the series has moved forward in that respect. Because of my fantasy background, I tend to prefer continuing, developing storylines that go somewhere so I enjoyed this. If you read this series more for those aspects, I think you will find some things to like here. For example, if you like John Matthew, the development of his story and those of his friends’, Qhuinn and Blaylock, continue in depth.

That said, if you dislike the Lessening Society, they get a lot of page time. It’s almost as if the book were trying to make up for their absence in the last one. What I did like about their inclusion here is that while they’re still evil, they weren’t quite as two-dimensional cardboard as I found them in previous installments. Maybe this is because for the first time, I saw they had a goal, motivations, and an actual storyline. Those things go a long way to keeping an antagonist from becoming that character who twirls his mustache and flings his cape over his shoulder. It also helps that this time around, the Lessening Society’s main players don’t bite it immediately. In previous books, I’d seriously been wondering how the Lessening Society was that much of a threat if their leaders kept getting killed off so easily.

The book also starts expanding the world, which is something I always like. While I doubt the worldbuilding will be solid or consistent — let’s face it, the worldbuilding is not the books’ strongpoint and I don’t expect that fact to change — I do appreciate the effort. In particular, I am fascinated by Rehvenge’s storyline and the symphants’ society. I really look forward to learning more about them in future books and given the events that happen in Lover Enshrined, I hope the series will explore them in more detail.

As for a grade, I’m torn. I found the romance so boring, I actually believe removing that storyline entirely would have made the book better. When I came to the scenes between Phury and Cormia, I found myself wishing for them to end so I get back to the other stuff. Not the desired reaction, I’d think, when those scenes are supposed to be the focal point of the book. If I’d have to give that part a grade, I’d probably say a C. It didn’t annoy me enough to give it a lower grade but I thought it was very bland. But for the rest of the book and the events it covers, I’d say an overall B- for me but I will warn that at this point, I don’t think you can read the books out of order anymore.

My regards,
Jia

This book can be purchased in mass market from Amazon or Powells. No ebook format yet, but I suspect there will be.