Two for Two or Third Time’s the Charm

It has been a long while since I have honoured the name of my blog with books. I know. I’ve had so many bad experiences with romance novels in recent years, I needed a break. The break, ladies and gentlemen, is over, and I’m proud (and more than happy) to give you, not one, but two hearty recommendations. For all of you who care about historical romance and spicy stuff, that is.

But first, an unnecessary introduction and superfluous information!

At the start of this year, in part to assuage the horrible disregard mentioned in the first sentence, my friend and I formed a book club: 2Neurons or Less, which was soon joined by another friend, also of the female persuasion. The name of the book club attempts to illustrate that the books to be read are to be simple, fun, and, if possible, hot as hell, with little mental effort required during and after reading. So, basically, zero Personal Edification.

The first two books were mediocre to bad, and both were of my choosing. Christina Lauren’s Love and Other Words was ok, in the yeah-whatever-ok sense. Nazri Noor’s Prince of Flowers is possibly the worst book I have ever read. Glad I read it because I did not know that a book can fail on every single level.

Desperate and distraught, the third to join our club was tasked with selecting the third book, because the book club had already been down in the doldrums. And boy, did she get it right with Heartbreaker by Sarah MacLean. I’ve previously read only one book by MacLean and I remember it was decent. But Heartbreaker is definitely more than decent. Yes, there are some awkward moments in the book, things I did not like, but  they fade when the story really gets going.

I recommend Heartbreaker because:

1. The two protagonists are hard not to love and care about.
2. There are other characters with actual personalities who are likeable, some more some less,
3. The romance develops marvelously, no big misunderstanding.
4. Neither of the protagonists suddenly turns into a halfwit to prolong suspense and excitement.
5. The chemistry between the characters is perfect and believable (not just the protagonists, mind you).
6. The spice is decent to very good, not cringeworthy and, for most part, you don’t have to skip it in frustration.
7. There’s a story in here, people. Yes, it serves to get our two protagonists together, but at the same time it is actually interesting, exciting and worth the while.  

Now, at the very start of Heartbeaker, I felt a bit disappointed that the love interest of the story is a Duke. Adelaide is the daughter of a crime boss, and I taught it would make for a good story if she were to get entangled with a man of dubious repute. Then my mind was filled with thoughts of Thomas Shelby, as it is more often than I care to admit. Literally immediately after finishing Heartbreaker (at around 00:30 this morning) I ventured to find a book that would help me scratch that itch. I did not expect much, what with my recent success rate. But I’m no quitter.

So, this morning, at around 00:45 I started reading The Devil of Downtown by Joanna Shupe. I expected to relinquish it by 01:30, but instead it’s now on the list of books which I have read this year. Pretty much everything I have written about Heartbreaker can be applied to The Devil of Downtown. It is nearly as good (less layered and complex), and the biggest difference is that it is set in New York and that this time the criminal element is male.

Damn, I forgot how much I enjoy a good Guilty Pleasure book.

Goodbye

I don’t know what Shadowfever is, but I would not categorize it as a book. It’s one MC’s egotrip, And that MC is certifiable and should be kept under close watch at all times. I cannot even say that MacKayla irritates me, because I feel compassion for her – she is a sex-crazed, self-obsessed maniac with illusions of grandeur and some serious identity issues.

Darkfever, Bloodfever and Faefever are as good as I remember, but, come Dreamfever, it all goes belly up. I do stand by my previous claim about it being the ultimate guilty pleasure, due to Jericho Barrons. He manages to keep things afloat even in book 4. But come Shadowfever…

SPOILER ALERT (I guess)

I’m not a particularly touchy reader and it’s difficult to offend me. I’m mostly offended by bad writing and stupid plot twists. I treat fiction as fiction and am ready to suspend my disbelief as far as I can. But the treatment of rape in this series is just unacceptable. The fact that it seems to me that the main character spiraled into some form of madness after the rape might be my attempt to make some sense of it. I now realize that, after all, I am simply unable to overlook the fact that the rape is glossed over. That the person raped interacts and spends time with her rapists without any difficulty and that she has no issue with other characters reminding her of being raped repeatedly. Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever read this again.

END OF SPOILER

Now I must go reexamine my life, because the fact that at some point of it I thought this book was awesome proves that I cannot be trusted. I thought this was the best book of the series.

Ultimate Guilty Pleasure

I don’t know have you ever come upon one of those crazy, CAPSLOCK reviews on Goodreads where a person of female persuasion gushes about a male character. I have. Many times. Most of those make me slightly concerned for the mental health of their authors. However, I do get where they come from because there is one such character that I’ve been crazy about for years. Regardless of the faux pas Karen Marie Moning made later on in the series, Jericho Barrons remains my only serious book crush.

I was a bit apprehensive, going back to the Fever series after being terribly disappointed in it, but the apprehension proved unwarranted. Jericho Barrons still rocks.

Let me tell you how much he rocks.

I’ve decided to listen Darkfever, having discovered that audio books are a perfect tool for someone who wants to read all the time. In it, Jericho Barrons sounds like an 80-year-old grandma. And guess what. He’s still hot.

As his first appearance in the book neared, I was giddy as a schoolgirl (yes, I could have used all caps to illustrate my anticipation). And then he spoke, and my body clenched. It was horrible. But guess what. Karen knows how to write and she has written him perfectly. Yes, it is a bit disturbing, finding a character that sounds like an octogenarian woman sexually appealing. But hey….

The cramped room was suddenly stuffed to overflowing with Jericho Barrons. If a normal person filled one hundred percent of the molecules they occupied, he somehow managed to cram his to two hundred percent capacity.

Halfway down the block was a denser spot in the darkness that I took to be him. It was impossible to make out his shape, but that patch of darkness seemed to hold more substance, more potency than the shadows around it. It also made me shiver a little. Yes, that would be him.

You can feel the energy sizzling and crackling in the air as the lines flop and twist on the ground, and you know you’re standing next to raw power that could turn your way with killing force at any second.

Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not all about Barrons (although it mostly is). Darkfever is a good book and Karen Marie Moning brings suspense and dread while at the same time creating a safe haven within the ever-changing world. MacKayla Lane, a superficial, self-absorbed character grows and grows up. At first I disliked her, then I kind of liked her. Then (as the series progresses) I started loving her.

The difference between Karen Marie Moning and, let’s say, Sarah J. Mass, is that Karen controls her story and she directs the feelings of the reader, carefully but without duress. She doesn’t force you to go along, she nudges you gingerly, gives you options and allows you to choose. And she is in no hurry.

Yes, this is fairy fantasy for girls, but this is well-written fairy fantasy for girls. The best I have come across and the only reason why I decided to read Holly Black (Folk of The Air is very good) and Sarah J. Maas (nope).

And now I will continue with the Fever series with apprehension. Because I know that Karen Marie Moning fucks it up. And she fucks it up real good.

Good Enough is Still Good

Since I’ve read Madeline Miller’s The Song of Achilles, I’ve been on the lookout for anything that is related to Greek mythology. Not actively searching, but keeping an eye out. What drew my attention to Lore was the cover which I really, really, really liked. So, I ended up buying it and (which is not always the case) reading it.

After almost a third of the book, it seemed like Lore might become a cautionary tale confirming the old adage “don’t judge the book by its cover” – in the literal sense. However, it turned out to be the opposite.

Greek gods and descendants of ancient heroes fighting each other in modern-day New York proved to be thrilling and fun. The story is a bit out there, and it took me a while to suspend my disbelief, but once I accepted the premise, the only thing that put a damper on the experience was the writing. Luckily, only occasionally.

It’s not bad, it’s ridiculously inconsistent. There are instances when Alexandra Bracken gives too many unnecessary information, and then there are instances when she practices the art of subtlety and writes something that’s worth highlighting and writing down.

For example, when Lore pulled out a dagger, we know that is the dead hunter’s dagger which she’d tied to her thigh with a strip of fabric. Instead “the back of her neck” we get “the hollow where the base of her skull met the ridge of her spine.” Then, when you least expect it, Ms Bracken gives you the bare minimum – just the right amount: “…he drew her closer, until she felt his blatant need for her, and a heaviness settled low in her stomach in response.” And that’s it. Thank gods, that’s it. That’s all the “spice” we get in this book and it’s one of the best things about Lore.

I’ll end on a positive note, with two quotes I liked.

26/40

Oops, I did it again

I did. I took my sweet time and I finally got to the beloved ACOTAR. I was running away from it for a long time, but I knew I was going to get to it eventually. Like I got to watching Breaking Bad and the Wire, once the craziness died down. I am the type, the type that needs to see what’s the hype all about.

Surprisingly so, I get it. I get it because I read it and I enjoyed it. It’s easy, it’s simple. Unlike life.

The characters are ok, generic and unoriginal, but ok. The plot is ok. Kept me interested enough to wade through the initial irritation and start enjoying myself. There’s a lot of telling, but not much showing which made both characterization and worldbuilding seem blurry and undefined. Worldbuilding being by far the worst aspect of the book.

Occasionally, the writing gets in the way of the good parts of the book. I cannot get over things such as “the words caressing my bones”, “I/he/she/it loosed a breath”, and I really don’t need more than one “thick column of his neck”. Actually, I could do with zero of thick neck-columns.

I really hate when clumsy writing pulls me out of the story and bring me back into the real world, she bared her teeth and growled inwardly.

There were also some poor editing choices (or that’s what I’d call them). Not many, but unnecessary repetition makes it seem like the author thinks I am Guy Pearce’s character from Memento. Yes, I remember what has already been mentioned 200 times and how it might emotionally affect the character.

I don’t get two things. I don’t get the people who are obsessed with ACOTAR (or Colleen Hoover) and I don’t get what’s all the fuss about Tamlin and Rhysand. There’s a million of Tamlins and Rhysands, and at least a quarter of million of those are way more deserving of the attention Tamlin and Rhysand get. Jerricho Barrons, to name one of them. Now him… Well…

So yeah, A Court of Thorns and Roses is ok.

Why I Loved The Iron Rose

I love reading romance books, but there’s so much I don’t like about them that it’s very difficult to find those which work for me. I hate wimpy female leads and male protagonists who are bullies. Side characters (if they exist) are rarely ever more than a two-dimensional plot device or a way to show how awesome the protagonists are. I just can’s stand when there is no point to the entire book except for the two coming together. After which the author most often has no idea what the do with the book. I cannot stand the idiotic covers on these books which mostly combine very poor typography with really lousy photoshop.

For example, look at this cover.  When I saw it, I immediately dismissed the book due to massive cringing. However, the book was free, there were pirates in it, so I relented.

And I am glad I did, because The Iron Rose by Marsha Canham has none of those pet peeves (ok, the cover). Yes, there are things I found lacking, but I feel no need to dwell upon those because I loved each and every character, I loved the setting and I loved the story. I appreciate the fact that, even though this is a second installment, I did not feel I need to read the first book to understand or enjoy this one.

I recommend this book to anyone who shares my weakness for the open seas, tropical paradise and who dreams of sleeping under a million blazing stars and experiencing the true darkness of a moonless night.

I mean, why? Why would you ever?

P.S. I apologize to all Goonies fans who feel offended by my use of the Inferno, I just couldn’t resist.

Once Upon a Kiss: Would Recommend

Intro

Guilty pleasure or a cheap thrill? Once Upon a Kiss is definitely a little bit of both. What’s it about? Suffice it to say it’s a Mediaeval Romance, there’s an arranged marriage and a forbidden-fruit situation.

Plot

Really? Do we care about the plot? I actually welcome it and I’m happy to say there is a bit of plot with some political machinations and actual PLOTTING.

Writing

Rather good. The only time I cringed a little was when I read “the long length of her legs”, other than that it was  fine. What I appreciate the most is that the descriptions and individual scenes do not drag on forever. It is highly likely that the author actually had sex and has been kissed, because she realizes you don’t really need 25 pages for either.

Man

Blaec. That’s his name. I nearly gave up on the book, because I kept reading it as Bleh. However, in the first part of the book he is referred to as the Black Dragon or Dragon and by the time he became Bleh again, I really didn’t care. Bleh is your run-of-the-mill hero. He has a sad story and is scarred (both emotionally and physically), he’s sarcastic, has difficulty expressing his feelings. A cur, I tell you! Not a rake, though. He’s also hot, big and other stuff that come with the territory. I liked that he never becomes overbearing and that he’s not a bully.

Woman

I liked her the least. Don’t get me wrong, she’s ok and I didn’t hate her, but there was nothing remarkable about her that would make her stand out as a character. I liked the fact that her trusting nature and devotion never turned her into a dimwit.

Villain

He’s good in a way that he’s really awful and obnoxious. Sometimes it’s really nice to have a Villain who’s beyond redemption and you just want him to get what he deserves.

Others

Other characters are simply there. The characterization is perfunctory, if not accidental. Side characters make a book stand out and treating them with love and respect is what make a a decent book into a great, or a really good book.

Highlights

Had only one: “She wondered how old he was, for he seemed in ways as ancient as sin.”

Conclusion

Would recommend it to anyone in need of romantic literary escapism, who is not too demanding in terms of complexity and nuance.

Time Travel

Do you have something that instantly takes you back to your childhood days? Smells, food, movies, songs or objects? For me, food seems to be the ultimate teleportation device, and the movies follow as a close second. Smells do transport me, but not to particular moments; they simply evoke a general childhood feeling.

This came to mind yesterday when I ate pate after a very long time, and I realized that canned and preserved food take me back to my childhood days. Mind you, we did not eat much canned food, except when we would take our little boat out for several days and throw our anchor in some island’s tiny harbour. Mostly we’d eat spam (“meat breakfast” in Croatia), and pate, and sometimes seashells my dad would catch (he was very good at that). Dry, instant soup mix was another item which often found its way onto the portable gas stove we cooked on.  So, if I get really nostalgic and happy when I see a bag of instant soup or if I show an unnatural need to eat some spam, know that I am not crazy. I mean, who wouldn’t want to remember being lulled to sleep by the gentle sway of waves and the sounds of planktons rhythmically crackling under the hull (I don’t know what the sound was, my parents told me it was planktons and that was a time when I doubted nothing and believed everything was possible, because it actually was).

A Whole Lotta Love and A Little Hatred

You reach a certain age, and you think the time when you get giddy as a schoolgirl about something is a thing of the past. Somehow, we learn to find fault with everything, and we pick incessantly at the smallest scab. I thought I’ll never get excited about an author again and then Joe Abercrombie happened. I came late to the Abercrombie party, but I party hard.

The Blade Itself had been on my to-read list for ages, but lukewarm reviews from my main reference point (you can see why @anatomy of reading) made me forget it. Then one day A Little Hatred pops up on Goodreads and, being impulsive as I am (when books are concerned), I bought it immediately. And that was among the best decisions I have made in 2020, otherwise a pretty shitty year, I’m sure you’ll agree. So here I am, slightly obsessed with Joe Abercrombie, after finishing his sixth book in less then a year. The last being The Trouble with Peace. Now when I have you wondering what exactly it is I am trying to write about here, the great reveal!

Reading “The Age of Madness” Before “The First Law“

After reading A Little Hatred (The Age of Madness), a continuation of The First Law series (set in the same world, same/similar characters – active or as historic figures), I started and finished the First Law Trilogy and Best Served Cold. I concluded, quite triumphantly mind you, that me being late to the Abercrombie party was destiny. Because, I sincerely doubt that I would have read The Blade Itself (The First Law #1) if I wasn’t excited about learning more about the characters from A Little Hatred and how they came to be as they are. Goes to show that my main reference point (see above) has been chosen wisely. However, king Jezal, Glokta, The Bloody-Nine and others who were merely mentioned in A Little Hatred took centerstage in The First Law. So, regardless of the fact that the books are weaker, I went through them with a vengeance.

In December 2020, I returned to The Age of Madness. While The Trouble with Peace is a good book and I have enjoyed it tremendously, The First Law tainted it. Why? Because the new generation of characters, Jezal’s son, Glokta’s and Dogman’s daughters, Bethod’s grandson…are pale in comparison to their forefathers. Not to mention there is no bloody Logen Ninefingers. None of the new characters (except maybe Rikke) measure up to the original crew, which, in a way, makes perfect sense. The new generation being watered down and the old going to the country or back to the mud.

But none of this really matters because The Wisdom of Crowds is coming out in September and I have The Heroes, Red Country and Sharp Ends waiting for me in the meantime. I don’t care for how long this Abercrombie thing is going to last, because I love it. I love being excited about books, especially those that are yet to be published or even written.

I mean, the man has made me use the two terms I utterly despise to describe his books: immersive experience and seamless experience. I hate these. They are impossible to translate and are often completely useless and deprived of meaning. You remove them from the text, most often nothing really changes except that the text has less words. Which is rarely a bad thing.

I actually found that Joe Abercrombie’s books offer both an immersive experience on a single book level and a seamless experience on the (cross)series level. Years of bitching about marketing experts reinventing the language and now I’m at a loss for a better way to succinctly describe my reading experience. Ah, well. Go read Abercrombie.