#ReadingLife: The Only One Left

 

A little late Sunday post action with a book rec of my latest read: The Only One Left by Riley Sager. 

This was definitely a case of having seen an author's books all over social media for a while, but not taking the plunge until a particular cover caught my eye. Well, a cover, and a rec from Crime By the Book over on Insta for Sager's latest novel: a spooky whodunnit set in a cliffside mansion that is quite literally crumbling into the sea, one haunted by the murders of three of its previous inhabitants. 

I feel like I can't discuss any of the plot without giving away major spoilers, but this was a very effectively twisty-turny tale that would twist again just when I thought I had it figured out. It kept me up well past lights-out all week, racing to get to the end. Fast-paced and instantly engaging, it's a definite recommendation for suspense-lovers who like a bit of a Gothic vibe. 

Speaking of horror...now that July 4th is past, I'm feeling VERY ready for spooky season. Last night I picked up It again - I've been reading that book piecemeal for a couple of years at this point, yikes. But now seems like a good time to finish it. Then I've got my eye on the latest T. Kingfisher horror, which I want to start this week. 

It might be sweltering outside, but the ghosts and goblins are calling. 

#ReadingLife - No. 6

 

After the All For The Game trilogy, I was definitely in need of another sports romance fix, so I picked up Coming In First Place by Taylor Fitzpatrick. I read Thrown Off The Ice last year, and really enjoyed it, and Fitzpatrick's writing style, so I already knew I'd enjoy this one, too. As good as Thrown is, it ends on a tearjerker, and First Place is thankfully a little more hopeful at the end. Supposedly there's a book 2 coming, also 👀

One of my favorite tropes is "Character A is so emotionally oblivious they have no idea Character B is a total goner for them" and this book has that in spades. Our POV protagonist, David, is pretty hopeless. Very strapped-down, withdrawn, rightfully nervous, given he's in the NHL, and emotionally constipated in general. He's an unreliable narrator in that sense, and it's at times funny and painful reading about the way he sees himself and the world. 

My favorite thing about Fitzpatrick's narrative voice is its understated sense of reality. No overblown melodrama or purple prose fits of passion. There's doubt, and awkwardness, and a day-to-day sincerity about the way life unfolds that feels grounded and accessible. 

A quick read, entertaining, touching, and one that kept me up past my bedtime. 

#ReadingLife - No. 4 & 5

I finished my fourth #ReadingLife book of the year last week, but given it was the second in a trilogy - and given its shocking ending - I wanted to wait until I'd read the trilogy's conclusion to post about it. 

Nora Sakavic's All For The Game trilogy is bonkers. You can read my slightly-more professional write-up on book one HERE. The Foxhole Court piqued my interest, then The Raven King delivered all sorts of delicious plot twists in the way of all great middle books of a trilogy. The King's Men offered a few jaw-drops and a satisfying wrap-up that makes me wish this was a longer series. 

I think my favorite thing about this trilogy is the way all of the development feels earned. The Foxes are a Messed Up bunch of characters, all of them with skeletons - often literal - in their closets; violent pasts, tons of trauma, and an array of bad attitudes. But as Neil slowly grows to like and trust them, so do we as the readers. The team that plays the Ravens for the championship has come a long way from those early chapters, and all that growth was the product of tense interactions, and slow, worthwhile reveals. And, in the end, things are resolved without being tied up nice and neat - not a happily-ever-after, but an acceptable way to leave our characters. Given the darkness of the storyline, it would have felt cheesy and over the top for Neil and Andrew and the team to have completely severed all ties with the underworld. Neil's going to owe the Moriyamas for the rest of his life...but the conclusion is satisfying all the same, and felt visceral and real given all that had happened. 

Two thumbs up and a big recommendation from me. I've got a book hangover now - nothing else I've tried to start has held my attention. A good problem to have, all things considered. If anyone has any similar recs, I'm all ears! 

#ReadingLife - No. 3

Over time, you'll probably begin to see a pattern in most of my reading, and that pattern is Distinct Voices. Whatever the genre, whatever the tropes used, I prefer books written with a style and flair all the author's own. That's certainly the case with book three of the year. One page, one paragraph into any Anne Rice book, you know exactly whose work you're reading. 

I bought The Wolf Gift shortly after it was released, but, given the size of my TBR, writing commitments, and general ADD when it comes to reading, I put it up on my shelf to look pretty and collect dust for the last few years. When I heard the news of her passing, I picked it up. 

The Wolf Gift is immediately, unequivocally Anne's particular brand of Gothic, creature-feature horror. It opens on our protagonist, Reuben Golding, a young journalist, interviewing the owner of a grand and gorgeous home on California's redwood coast. Reuben is taken right away with the house, and its owner. After a night together, both are attacked in the wee hours...by men, and by an avenging monster. Reuben survives, and quickly begins undergoing a series of miraculous physical changes, ending up as, you guessed it, a werewolf. 

One of my favorite things about Anne Rice has always been her ability to take a very Classic story, tell it with classical panache and a passion from a bygone era of art, but she always twists the mythos into something uniquely her own. Like with the Vampire Chronicles, she creates a werewolf lore not seen in other werewolf literature, reaching all the way back to the conception of the creatures, touching on their philosophy, their religion - or lack thereof. Rice's monster tales are not wild romps, but introspective tales reminiscent of the Romantic Period, which ask big, theological questions about what it means to be a man versus a monster; questions about morality, and duality, and existence at large. 

In typical Rice fashion, the prose is lush and descriptive, highly visual when it comes to setting and staging. As one would expect it has a certain historic quality to it - and I don't mean this as an insult at all, it's one of the things I've always found most charming about her work. The prose reads as if penned by hand and by candlelight, by someone living in Renaissance times, marveling always at small wonders, simple beauties, and the vastness of the world. This means that the dialogue doesn't feel very modern, even in the mouths of modern characters; it also, in the way of sweeping English Romantic Period fiction, allows characters to feel things deeply and viscerally, loving quickly and powerfully, unbreakable bonds forming almost instantly. Again, this feels very "Classic" to me, and is part of her charm, but don't go into it looking for a gritty, hyper-realistic story. 

Small warning for gore: the wolves tear a lot of people and animals up, and it gets bloody. That's another thing about Anne Rice: she goes there, in whatever story she writes. Her work has always made me a braver writer. At times, I've had ideas, and then told myself they were probably Too Much...but then I asked myself, "What would Anne do?" She would go for it, and if it made people uncomfortable, oh well. 

She was such a powerhouse, and will be missed dearly. While it lacks Lestat - he really does make every book better - The Wolf Gift reads like the early days of the Vampire Chronicles, full of thoughtful monsters and gorgeous settings. I'm glad I finally got to it. 

#ReadingLife - No. 2

 Book 2 of 2022 is Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater, the first book in her Wolves of Mercy Falls series. 

My first introduction to Stiefvater's work was her Raven Cycle series, and book two of the follow up Dreamer Trilogy, Mister Impossible, is coming up soon on my TBR. I love her authorial voice; it's so immediately and distinctly recognizable. She has a dry sense of humor that keeps the prose from getting too heavy, but then she'll lay down the most gorgeous, unique metaphor that hits you like a sucker punch out of nowhere. Anyone who wants to learn how to balance clean and effective lines of narrative with bursts of lush indulgence needs to study her work, because it's a master class. 

This series was written years before the Raven Cycle, and it definitely reads like earlier work while she was still in the process of refining her style. A little more YA standard in some respects than her later work, but still with those bursts of absolute genius descriptions, and with dark moments dropped with little fanfare, and therefore lots of impact. 

She offers a unique take on werewolves - a lore in which wolves are human during the summer/warm months, and it's the cold/winter that brings on the shift. I'm reading another werewolf book now, as well, and I always enjoy seeing the ways different authors bring lycanthropy to life. 

Because it's YA, the characters feel things deeply and dramatically. Teenagers always sense that their worlds are falling apart in situations like this, the sharp sting of new love driving their emotions. The last few chapters ratchet up the tension at a steady pace, POVs swapping on each one, and ends with a surprise that meant I immediately downloaded the next. 

Not my favorite Stiefvater, but still solid, sweet, and boasting a new spin on wolf lore. 

#ReadingLife - No. 1

I've given up on the idea of NY's resolutions, per se, because setting rigid goals inevitably leads to disappointment. But I have a loose collection of things I want to work toward, and one of those is keeping better track of the books I'm reading. I could use Goodreads for that, but, well, I'm not a fan. So I'm going to do it on the blog instead. I'll post them in the order in which I finish them. I don't do stars or ratings of any kind. I have very eclectic taste and will read just about anything so long as I feel I can connect with an author's voice and characters. I'll only be posting about books that I've finished and truly enjoyed - I don't do bad reviews, fair warning. 

Book 1 of 2022 is The Foxhole Court, by Nora Sakavic 

I've seen this series make the Twitter and Tumblr rounds for years, and it was mentioned alongside enough books that I've enjoyed that it piqued my interest. Looking for something contemporary to read between heavy historicals, I finally picked it up last week. 

"It's not the world that's cruel," Neil said. "It's the people in it."

The story follows Neil Josten, who we immediately learn is running from something, and as the novel unfolds, we learn just how nasty that something is. (I won't spoil it for you) He's invited (read - demanded) to join the Palmetto State University Exy team, and spends his time trying to hide his secrets, survive his volatile teammates, and improve his game, in that order. It's the perils of young adulthood meets sports story, meets mafia drama, and if that sounds like a wild mashup, trust me, it is. It's the first of a trilogy and ends on a sequence of shockers that meant I immediately downloaded book two at my Kindle's prompting. 

The opening scene - Neil smoking a cig on his high school court's bleachers, about to get the surprise of his life in the form of a familiar face - instantly grabs. This is a kid with something heavy lying across his shoulders. No easing in, no setting the stage; it's like a crisp, black-and-white snapshot, and you immediately know things are going to get complicated. Sakavic's prose is direct and no frills; not overly descriptive, but very precise in the portrait it paints. She picks out the most necessary detail of a character, and, in that way, brings them to life in a way that makes them seem a little over the top...and I mean that in the best way. The characterization echoes the blunt, visceral impacts and dodges of a contact sport. 

Which brings us to Exy - a fictional sport created for the purposes of this trilogy. While I didn't always follow the action as I would have had it been a real and familiar sport, I like Sakavic's use of one we don't know. We have to follow the characters and rely on them for information; we don't come to the story with our own ideas about the way someone should or shouldn't play or train. And it has the added bonus of allowing the author to use the NCAA and ESPN, and familiar sports landmarks without having to work around real NCAA schools. It's pretty brilliant, actually. 

My favorite thing about this book was the way it reminded me, turn after turn, of a sports anime. I love sports anime and manga. The drama on and off the field/court/rink, etc. The ways sport becomes a metaphor for learning to trust and lean on one another. The explosive, larger-than-life characters. The tension that makes you want to ship pairings even though it's not a romance. Only, tone down some of the bonding and throw in some dramatic crime family plotlines. 

I don't know where the next two books will take us - if Neil learns to trust or even like Andrew and Kevin, if the Palmetto Foxes become the comeback kids of college Exy...or if someone's getting their fingernails pulled for information. Who knows! This is definitely not YA, but a darker look at a college sports drama with some underage drinking, drug use, vicious teammates, and mafia action on the side. I really liked it: American Haikyu!! meets Banana Fish, if you're into that. 

#ReadingLife: Swordspoint

A few days after I finished Checkmate by Dorothy Dunnett, when the loss of smart, savvy, dashing characters had become a sort of ache, I Googled "books similar to the Lymond Chronicles." I found some blog posts, and some Goodreads lists, and one book kept popping up: Swordspoint by Ellen Kushner. I started it before Christmas, but had to set it aside while I made final tweaks on Golden Eagle. I picked it up again, after, and finished it earlier this week. 

The novel is listed as fantasy, because it takes place in the fictional city of Riverside, full of pickpockets, ladies of the evening, gamblers, drunks, urchins, cutthroats - and, most importantly, paid swordsmen. On the Hill, the wealthy stroll through manicured gardens, take their barges out on the river to view fireworks over five course meals, and nibble on iced cakes. Conflicts are not settled personally - how gauche. Instead, swordsmen are hired to challenge an enemy, or an enemy's champion, and the resulting death by sword is sanctioned by law. It reads more like historical fiction in a fictitious world. No magic, no monsters.  

Our hero, if you will, is Richard St. Vier, the greatest swordsman in the land. He lives in a set of rented rooms with his lover, Alec - of mysterious, though obviously educated/noble origins. Over the course of the novel, he completes jobs, declines the chance to serve as teacher, and exacts violent revenge. 

I went into Swordspoint more or less blind: I didn't read the reviews, and did nothing more than skim the blurb. I ended up really enjoying it. 

There's a particular kind of prose I like best, and Kushner's writing is a great example of that: diverse sentence structure; clever pacing of thought, and elegant delivery. Without ever info-dumping, she paints you an image. You can feel the heat and closeness of the fires in the taverns; smell the unwashed patrons, hear their half-drunk laughter. You can perfectly picture Alec's hauteur; appreciate the glimmer of all the rings on his graceful fingers: dazzling. She draws her characters - in appearance and mannerisms - with a deft hand. They stand out as distinct; casting them with actors would be difficult because they are so very much themselves. 

This is a book about class divide: the haves and have-nots. Richard the have-not lives by a strict honor code, while the haves who hire him shamelessly seek their own advancement, no matter the cost. There are other commentaries woven throughout, too. About inheritance, and education, and the role - and prejudices against - women. Socially, it's a thoughtful tapestry of the truths of the past, some of which carry through to today, but the novel is never moralizing. There's never that awkward moment when the author turns directly to the reader and says, "When I speak of this, I mean to highlight that it's a bad thing. You know that, right? That it's bad?" I really can't stand it when fiction treats me like I'm stupid, and this book doesn't, thankfully. 

I will note that, plot-wise, the book doesn't follow-through on every setup. There are future books in the series, so I wonder if some of those questions will be answered there - whatever happened to Michael Godwin, I wonder?

All told, the book is the literary equivalent of one of those really fancy chocolate truffles. Rich, a bit dark, decadent, lovely, and a quick bite - it's a short novel at 286 pages. A perfect read for a rainy afternoon in a comfy chair; a nice little thoughtful indulgence. Hopefully I'll find time to continue with the rest of the books in Kushner's universe sometime this year. 

Reading Life: Niccolo Rising

1460.

In Wallachia, Vlad Tepes has ascended to the throne for the second time, and this time, he's cementing his rule. He's just impaled every boyar involved in the ousting and murder of his father and older brother, and he's building the reputation that makes him "Tepes" in the first place. 

In Constantinople, Sultan Mehmet is preparing a campaign to push farther up the Danube, finally capturing Romania and Hungary outright, his favorite kept pet - Vlad's brother - still at his side. 

In the first novel of Dorothy Dunnett's House of Niccolo Series, Niccolo Rising, which opens in Bruges, 1460 is a year of trade, money-lending, and commerce; of privately owned fighting companies and a Europe seeking to do business with the Ottoman Sultan. There are faint murmurings of a crusading effort - but that won't come to pass. Mehmet isn't beatable, but he is a commercial avenue to the East, and a wildly rich businessman in his own right. 

After over a year spent researching for my Vlad Tepes novel Dragon Slayer, I admit I had a full geek-out every time there was mention of Constantinople or Mehmet. Vlad never comes up, but he wouldn't - Dunnett's novel takes place before the infamous Forest of the Impaled incident, and, really, Vlad wasn't exactly seen as an important figure by the rest of Europe at this time. He was that guy that kept asking to have his personal revenge quest sanctioned as a crusade; and France, Italy, and Britain had bigger fish to fry. There was no time for a sad anime boy and his aforementioned revenge quest. 

Not that I've gotten my Vlad feels out of the way, let's talk about the actual novel I'm here to review. 

The basic premise, without giving too much away, is that of an affable dope, Claes, who works as a dyeshop apprentice for the prosperous widow who rescued him from an ugly situation as a child. He's bastard born, without influence or connection. Quick to laugh, always up for an adventure, and living a life of impulse and merriment alongside the widow's son, and the Charetty company heir, Felix. But, in true Dunnett fashion, nothing is as it seems, and each chapter pulls back the carefully-wrought veil another fraction. Until, at the end, the reader is stunned - not only by the transformation in Claes - now Nicholas - but by the deft weaving of story that led you to the finale. 

Dorothy Dunnett's approach to historical storytelling is one of total immersion. She isn't going to explain the workings of the past in careful asides; she drops you right in, headfirst, and while this can be overwhelming at first, it's an approach I appreciate: I'd rather go Google something obscure later than be pulled from the story in the moment. I mentioned on Instagram, when I started, that I felt this book was more accessible than her Lymond series, and I stand by that: the language is a bit crisper; the scene is set a bit more plainly. This series was written after Lymond, and you can see the small ways in which she tweaked her own work; the ways she grew, as we all do. In that sense, I want to recommend starting with this series, for ease of reading. 

As expected, the characters are distinct, carefully-drawn, and incredibly visual on the page. I'm still marveling at her handling of Claes/Nicholas. The way she presented such a particular picture, and then tweaked it, and twisted it. My God. Any writer who wants to work on their characterization MUST read Dunnett. 

Miss Dunnett never shies away from difficult situations or scandalous scenarios, and both are present in this novel. There's so much I want to say here, specifically, but I also don't want to spoil the book for anyone. Let me just say there were some marriages, some pregnancies, and some parentage reveals that shocked me. 

I want to take a moment to comment on her female characters, specifically: Dunnett writes very strong, tough, opinionated, flawed, driven female characters. Philippa in the Lymond Chronicles is one of my favorite characters ever. But she does tend to write them from the historical male perspective; the language is as brutal and demeaning as one could have expected for the time period. Women back then didn't have the freedoms we do now, and Dunnett is bluntly accurate on that front. I've always felt, though, that the ugly thoughts from some of her male characters are true to the period, and are the thoughts of those characters, not Dunnett's own perspective. In general, the women seen as vicious and meddlesome by some of the male characters end up the strongest, most steadfast and correct characters in the novels. 

Dunnett is - was, sadly - a singular talent. I can't help but feel it's important that I read her work. Her sprawling, meticulously crafted, hard-to-define novels offer a wealth of emotion and thoughtfulness. I'm so looking forward to continuing this series. 

I will say, though - and this is just a personal preference. There was something really magical - for me - about the Lymond Chronicles. I'm only one book into this series, and my opinions could absolutely change, but so far, I'm missing Francis Crawford - and his friends and family. At times I hated them, but I always loved them. It's been fun to see the ways Dunnett fans have a preference for one series or the other. I'm curious to see where I'll shake out, once it's all over. 

In short: please go read Dorothy Dunnett. Please keep her books alive for future generations. She truly has no equal. 

Reading Life: The Last Wish

This week, I finished the introductory novel to the Witcher Series, The Last Wish, by Andrzej Sapkowski, and it's one of those books that makes me very glad I don't do star-ratings on my reads. Not because I disliked the book - I liked it quite a bit. But because I don't have any idea how I would rate it, if pressed. 

The novel is, at first blush, a collection of stories; though, as it unfolds, you realize they are connected by the "Voice of Reason" chapters, and by the end, the larger picture has revealed itself. It's a true introduction, setting up the series that is to follow, introducing the main players, and the world. 

The author is Polish, and this was a case of a refreshingly-sharp translation. I've read novels translated into English from the original languages in which not a drop of artistry was preserved; you bungled through the prose for the story. But in this case, I think the imagery, meaning, and dry humor were beautifully preserved. 

And it is dry humor. In the first few pages, main character Geralt feels stern, stone-faced, and humorless. A stoic warrior type without much personality. But as the book progresses, you begin to catch glimpses of the life beneath: the droll humor, the flat-voiced jokes. As well as the pain, and yearning, and the carefully hidden emotions. 

The supernatural elements of the novel are heavily influenced by Eastern European folktales: vampires, strigas, and spirits. We glimpse the elves only briefly, but I LOVE elves, so I'm interested in seeing more. 

The prose of the book is fairly straight forward and blunt. Artistically, I prefer novels that are a bit more lush and descriptive; world-building that delves a little deeper. And, in regards to the romance, the book doesn't do much "work." It's very much an instant-attraction, little-build-up-on-the-page sort of affair. This happens frequently in fantasy and sci-fic, but I prefer a more subtle and nuanced approach.

All told, I enjoyed the novel, and plan to read the rest of the series. I'm very curious to see the show later in the month, and watch it unfold visually; I feel like the bare-bones approach of the book could be greatly enhanced through visual media. 

Now: with regards to my comments, please note that I'm only one reader. This book was a reminder to me of the ways in which no two people read the same book. Just because the language and style don't resonate as deeply with one person as another, it doesn't mean that won't be the exact opposite case with a different reader. That's the magic of books. It's also something I think about quite a lot in my own writing. For some readers, my prose is too verbose, too descriptive. But for others, it's a case of "just right." I feel like every book we read teaches us a lesson, and my most frequent lesson is this: Don't just write a book you think everyone will like. Spend your time writing books that a few people will love. 

I'm very much looking forward to The Witcher on Netflix, and exploring the rest of the book series. 

Reading Life: The Queen of Nothing

"I honed my instincts in battle...Sometimes those instincts are still there when there is no more war."

~Madoc

You know who I didn't expect to end up loving in this series? Madoc. 

*ducks while you throw rotten tomatoes at me*

He's terrible, truly, but I can't deny that I did care about him, right up until the end - and I suppose Jude did, too, and that was the point, and you're very sneaky, Ms. Black, yes indeed.

The first book in Holly Black's Folk of the Air trilogy opens in dramatic fashion. And in those first few moments, I expected to spend the rest of the trilogy hating and fearing Jude's adoptive father, but that isn't what happened at all. Because despite the very inhuman world of Faerie, and all its unapologetically whimsical inhabitants, there's something incredibly human about the messy dynamics of the family at the heart of the series. I love that Jude can never hate Madoc, because in his own way, he does love her. And because, as she asks herself in this book, she can't decide if he made her what she is, or if she was only herself all along, and he nurtured her natural tendencies, rather than foisting his own ideals onto her. Jude is always one for self-reflection, and I love that about her. 

I don't want to offer any spoilers for The Queen of Nothing, but the quick rundown of the trilogy is: human Jude Duarte and her two sisters are taken to live in the realm of Faerie after their parents are murdered. They go to school with fairy children, and are expected to live out their lives in Faerie, though some precautions against magic must be taken, given that they're mortal. Of the three sisters, our protagonist Jude is the fighter; she longs to become a knight in the Faerie king's court, and she's not afraid to use all manner of violence, wiles, and court machinations to get what she wants. The Folk are pretty awful, and Jude is determined to become, in her own words, even worse. 

This is most definitely not a tale of heroes, and that's one of things I enjoyed most about this trilogy. It's not a tale of the good girl going bad, or the bad boy becoming better. Jude and Cardan are both clever, cutting, ruthless, and wearing layers upon layers of armor. Over the course of the trilogy, they reveal themselves to one another - usually not by choice - and by the end we the readers feel like we know them, and we love them, without either of them having sacrificed the sharp edges that piqued our interest at the first. 

2019 has not been a year for well-thought out, satisfying fictional endings, so I went in with a proper level of nerves. Unnecessary nerves. Deserved consequences are served, loves are confessed, and there's even some leniency shown. Hands-down a perfect conclusion. 

Reading Life: Call Down the Hawk

(Going to start a new post tag: "Reading Life." A place to organize all my adventures in reading.)

Call Down the Hawk

Book One of the Dreamer Trilogy

By Maggie Stiefvater 

You are made of dreams and this world is not for you.

So says Bryde to Ronan Lynch, a refrain throughout the novel. This is true of Ronan, doubtless, but - without supposing too much about someone I've never met - I wonder if it might be true of Ms. Stiefvater, too. It's certainly a line still echoing in the back of my mind. What is an author if not a dreamer? And how melancholy it can be to learn that your dreams don't translate to others once you've pulled them out of your head and presented them on outstretched hands. 

Call Down the Hawk is a story about the Lynch brothers, who we met in The Raven Cycle. I love that series, so I'm of course going to recommend it; and it's in that series that we learn what a dreamer is; it's where Ronan loses his parents and learns how his strange powers work. Gansey and Blue, referenced in this book, but not seen, are front and center for most of TRC, characters worth reading, knowing, and loving. But I suppose you could start this new trilogy without the background. 

This is the first in a trilogy, and so, while we gain some answers, we end with mostly questions, and that's okay. That's how series work. We learn that the magic in this particular universe is much more dangerous and slippery and impossible than we originally thought reading TRC. This book takes the world built in TRC and blows it wide open; expands it in every direction. 

While reading, I was struck by the thought that, though technically a YA book, this new trilogy already feels very much like an adult series in a way that The Raven Cycle didn't. This isn't a criticism; I love YA, and The Raven Cycle is excellent; but it felt like our heroes were kids - because they were. They had kid worries - in addition to their supernatural worries. This novel has a more grown-up flavor, though. Probably because Ronan is growing up, and I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see a fiction saga grow as the characters grow. 

Ms. Stiefvater has such a gift for POV. She uses several in each book, and this one is no exception; a deft shift of personalities, mindsets, goals, and approaches with each one. Even if you don't like a character - Farooq-Lane for me in this one - they feel instantly knowable. In this book, we meet several new characters, among them Jordan, who is instantly sympathetic, despite her situation being one none of us could have ever experienced. I was pleasantly surprised to spend time with Declan, a character I previously didn't hold an opinion of, good or bad, and to find that I really like him, now that I've been inside his head. 

Craft-wise, I think this is Stiefvater's best book yet. I love all of her work, but it's fun to look across the entirety of her catalogue and see how she just keeps growing as a writer. This book reads like one she was meant to write; like something that was always brewing inside her, waiting to be let loose. 

I loved it. No complaints. I do have a wish, though - I'd love to see more of Ronan and Adam together. The moments she did give us were understated, and powerful, and made my heart so happy. Ronan in love is a beautiful thing.