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Review–Mating the Huntress by Talia Hibbert

Get it here on kindle for $0.99.

5/5*

Pub October 2018

 

This hot Halloween erotic romance can be devoured in one bite (pun intended).

Chastity identifies the hot stranger who keeps coming into her family’s coffee shop as a werewolf right away. But she doesn’t warn her family of huntresses, or even any of the men in her family. When he finally asks her out, she says yes. If she can kill him, she’ll prove to her family that she can be a huntress, too. The problem is that he’s not a mindless beast, like she’d been warned. He seems like a….a guy. An artist, even. Can a monster make art? Worse, can a monster inspire feelings other than hate….like lust?

Luke is a werewolf. But like most weres, he’s a solitary creature who likes his meat raw–and the forest behind his house keeps him perfectly happy via plenty of rabbits and such. But on a full moon, he’s chased by a group of huntresses…only to catch the scent of something primal. His mate. But the woman wearing the sweatshirt isn’t her. Instead she’s this shy, sweet girl who works in a coffee shop. Or so he thinks…until she tries to kill him.

Luke and Chas have chemistry that sparks right off the page. They’re easy to root for because it’s blindingly obvious that they should be together. Their banter is hot, and their fighting even more so. When they finally get together, I was squirming.

I love the idea of huntresses being obsessed with killing mindless monsters versus the very civilized but solitary werewolf who just wants to meet and commit to his mate for life. The dichotomy makes their story sparkle.

Luke is very much an alpha character. He doesn’t hesitate to take control or make a move. But he’s also committed to consent, which is really sexy. There’s an instance where the consent is blurry and he pulls away immediately. This only makes him hotter.

I wish it were longer, but I always wish a Talia Hibbert book were longer–she’s such a talented writer that I am always sorry when the story finishes. There’s such a great glimpse into the world of the huntresses and the world of werewolves. She has a unique take on what can be a really tiresome trope. Kudos, Talia!

It’s October 1, which means it’s on sale TODAY!

Review: Dream Eater by K. Bird Lincoln

Buy Dream Eater here

3*/5

Publication date–April 2017

 

I bought Dream Eater at the Worldcon Convention from the publisher’s table.

The idea is a interesting one. There are beings, called Kind, from every culture with powers and skills unique to them, more than what any mortal would have. Koi is a half Japanese, half Hawaiian college aged woman. She has a phobia about touching people because when she does, she gets a snippet of what they dream. Her mom has died, her father has dementia and her little sister is the one who holds the family together. But at the start of the book, her sister Marlin needs Koi to step up and watch her father. Koi needs to go to class, and ends up leaning on a man named Ken to watch her father. But Ken isn’t all that he seems to be–he’s a Kitsune, sent to bring her father back to Japan to face the Council. There’s a professor with evil intentions who is after Koi, as well. At first he claims it’s just for translating, but it turns out he needs her to help free the water dragon trapped in a stone, and he’s willing to hurt whoever gets in his way. The book fuses mythology from around the world, predominantly Japanese and Pacific Northwest First Peoples.

The book was pretty uneven. At times I was so engaged I devoured a chunk of it. At others, I was bored, or just lost track of the blend of mythologies.

The thing that grabbed me most was the budding sexual tension between Koi and Ken. I wanted to know where it went more than I cared about the battle between the water dragon and Thunderbird. If I read the sequel, Black Pearl Dreaming, it’s because I want to know how Ken and Koi are doing as a couple.

I got lost a number of times because the blended mythology got confusing, or didn’t work as I tried to fit the puzzle pieces of the story together. But I think this would be a selling point to other readers. I don’t think it’s necessarily badly done as much as it was I am busy and just lost the thread, and once lost, it’s impossible to get back without going back and starting over.

So ultimately, I give it a 3/3.5* out of 5 because it was okay–I didn’t dislike it. But I doubt that I’ll read the sequel.

ARC Review–A Dreadful Fairy Book by Jon Etter

Pre-order A Dreadful Fairy Book by Jon Etter

3/5*

Publication–November 6, 2018

I received this ARC from Netgalley in exchange for an honest review.

My oldest daughter, Elanor, is in fifth grade and loves fantasy, so I read A Dreadful Fairy Book with her in mind. Is this something she would like? Is this something I would like her to read/would like to read aloud with her? Is it something I would recommend my school library stock? The answer to all of these questions is complex and why I had to drop my rating from a 4/5 to a 3/5.

A Dreadful Fairy Book uses the same sort of overarching theme of ominous narration employed in the Series of Unfortunate Events books, wherein a narrator pops up throughout the story to add commentary and to caution you to turn back because it’s not a happy story. It opens with a forward from Quentin Q. Quacksworth, our narrator, telling you that this will be a dreadful fairy book, and that the reader should turn back just as Lemony Snicket does. This is used throughout the book, and if your child likes that sort of device, they will enjoy that.

Shade, the main character of the book is one most children will relate to–she feels too different from everyone else in her village. In this story it’s because she’s a reader like her parents, and the village looks down on this literacy, even though it’s saved them many times (no you can’t turn the water pink which will kill all the fishes and make the water poison because it would look pretty). In fact, the book opens with Shade in a fury because the village had bought some “harmless” fireworks and accidentally burned down Shade’s house. So Shade tells them she’s leaving, and she takes the only book to survive the conflagration to go seek a new home with as many books as possible.

Along her way, Shade encounters all sorts of fairy creatures–a bridge troll who doesn’t like to get dirty, an Anthony of the Wisp who doesn’t want to lead people to their doom, as well as some with more menacing creatures. Shade acquires some allies–Ginch, a talkative Brownie who cheats at cards, and The Professor, a silent pixie whose pockets carry an improbable number of items. A witch gives them directions to a library on the Marble Cliffs, which becomes a quest for Shade. Ginch and The Professor end up joining her on the quest after some villagers with torches start to chase them.

The issues that parents may have with the book are the faux swearing that happens with high frequency and the verbal dialects given to the characters lean heavily on ethnic stereotypes. I don’t particularly care about the former, but the latter is a big problem for me.

What do I mean by the ethnic stereotype dialects?

“It’s-a the sad story, mine: the woeful tale of the Rigolleto Ginch, the devoted servant in-a the big, big manse of Fuseli Cavatappi, the Basta of Pasta, who was-a brought-a low…” and “Ey, paisan! You know-a the moth girl” among thousands of others from Ginch.

“Vy boss vant kinders?”

“‘Course it’s good youse mooks!” the little man replied in a deep raspy voice.

“‘Course oi can see ye,” she snorted. “Drank a glass o’ milk backwards after refusin’ to do me chore first thing on Sain Bartleby the Unwillin’s Day when oi were ten.”

“Oui, mon petit chou,” the gargoyle said as they entered, pointing at the map with his free hand, “but ze middle of ze land–“

Ginch is the only main character with a dialect (the Professor is either silent or stutters when speaking), but it’s a near constant stream. He doesn’t speak without word-a-ing something. It gets grating fast. As does the fact that Shade is almost the only person who speaks properly–it feels like Etter was throwing pins at a map of Europe and then assigning stereotypes. How will an Italian/Italian American child feel reading a book where their ethnicity is used as a punchline?

This bothered me enough that I took the rating from 4 stars to 3. Dialects aren’t bad (although using ones with blinding red flags are), but they need only be used sparingly because otherwise they become irritating.

So how do I feel about those questions I kept in mind while reading this. I don’t think it’s surprising that “No, I don’t really want my daughter reading this,” and “No, I won’t be recommending this book to my school library,” and “No, I won’t recommend this book to parents of other similarly aged children,” are where I come down.

 

 

Review–When Trump Changed: The Feminist Science Fiction League Quashes the Orange Outrage Pussy Grabber by Marleen S. Barr

Buy When Trump Changed Here

2/5*

Published July 2018

 

This satirical anthology of short stories by Marleen S. Barr attacks Donald Trump’s presidency with any number of variations familiar to science fiction fans.

The stories are short. This makes for a bathroom book where you can read a few stories and put it back down. However, if you read too many at a time, fatigue sets in and the stories blur together.

My favorite story is “Springtime for Trump,” a hilarious take on the already hilarious movie/musical The Producers. Instead of creating the most offensive play ever created, two feminist extraterrestrials decide to create the most offensive male candidate in history and pit him against the most qualified woman in history. Just as in The Producers, the joke is on the aliens when the public embraces Donald Trump.

I am disappointed, however, by the fact that while this purports to be a feminist book there are hostile comments about weight (planet wide obesity problem emerged…subway riders had to eat right and excercise…Weight Watchers membership skyrocketed, his already fat ass instantaneously became huge), and outright attacks on Melania’s history as a model (she had no skills other than posing nude, my brother says you’re nothing but a ho, she continued to speak in a prostitute-like tone). There’s a story when a black girl speaks stereotypical AAVE–ho, skanky-ass. I don’t want to stay here with no trump pigs–and it’s painfully obvious that it was written by someone white. I could go into a long song and dance, but feminism isn’t worth a damn when it’s not intersectional and this isn’t intersectional feminism, it’s a specific type of white feminism and that’s disappointing and caused my rating to drop from a four to a two.

Ultimately, I think the anthology would’ve been stronger both as parody and an anthology had it been multi-authored, or a single narrative with the fictional Dr. Sondra Lear as the heroine. However, it’s much more highly reviewed on Amazon/Goodreads–Your mileage may vary.

Want my copy of the book? Leave a comment and I’ll contact the winner. Contest closes Sept 15, 2018.

Review–Must Love Black by Kelly McClymer

Click here to buy Must Love Black

Rating 4/5*

Published January 2011

Philippa’s father just remarried, years after her mother died in a tragic car wreck. So she’s relieved to have a summer job to escape to. She’s to nanny ten year old twin girls at a mansion (turned spa) on the cliffs of Bar Harbor, Maine. The ad specified must love black, but that’s no problem for Philippa, who lives in black.

The mansion (spa) is not quite what it seems. Philippa is confined to the “domain” of the twins, with a rigorous schedule that includes mandatory “fun” time. However, fun must never bring them into contact with the guests. They almost never see the twins’ father, and when they do, it’s almost never without his business partner, Lady Buena Verde who seems intent on keeping the dad away from his daughter. More, did Philippa really see a ghost? Are the mysterious goings on a ghost or just Philippa’s overactive imagination, spurred on by the gothic novel her mother wrote?

McClymer uses snippets from Manor of Dark Dreams, the book by Philippa’s mother at the start of each chapter to help set the tone and act as meta commentary. It’s a device used to good advantage, and the snippets are tantalizing enough to want to read it (or you can read Jane Eyre, which Manor of Dark Dreams is clearly modeled after).

The characters are mostly well done. The twins are generally treated as a singular unit until the introduction of the pet goat, Misty Gale. I wish we could’ve seen more differentiation between the two. Mr. Pertweath evolves over the course of the book. Philippa’s character arc is more about bringing the girls and their father together than making her more interested in or sympathetic toward her father or interested in giving her stepmother a chance–but I think that’s pretty true to form for a sixteen year old.

The supernatural elements of the book are much more subtle than I had expected, given the flap copy, but are present. But if you are looking for a full blown ghost story, this isn’t it–the supernatural is more of a secondary or tertiary storyline.

It’s a fun, easy read for YA readers.

Book Review: Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White

Screen Shot 2014-04-18 at 3.46.36 PMCharlotte’s Web by E.B. White

5/5 stars

Ellie likes read alouds–she likes picture books, and she’ll sit in for her sister’s board books.  But over the past year and a half, we’ve slowly started to introduce chapter books into the read aloud repertoire.  This past week we finished “Charlotte’s Web.”

First I’ll let Elanor talk to you about the book.  This is a longer video than the past two have been, and I provided more scaffolding.  Given the length and complexity of the book, Ellie needed support.

In reading chapter books to Elanor, I’ve had the opportunity to look back at my childhood.  Some books like Fantastic Mr. Fox are much scarier, others are badly written (see my snarking nostalgia column), and some books–like Beezus and Ramona–are just boring.

Charlotte’s Web is sadder.  So. Much. Sadder. than I remembered it being.  Reading it as an adult, and knowing what’s coming makes you so much more alert to nuance.  More than once, I felt choked up or found myself blinking back tears.  Prepare yourself accordingly.

As a child, I don’t know that I appreciated the richness of the language that White uses throughout the book. Words like salutations, injustice, and languishing are a welcome change.  You won’t find overuse of the word “said” as you do in other children’s literature.  It is a joy to read.

I remember appreciating that he didn’t dumb the book’s vocabulary down just because kids were going to read it–or the subject matter.

Wilbur’s life is in danger from the first chapter, and the reader knows that Wilbur may actually end up on someone’s plate.  Few expect Charlotte to die.  I’m relatively sure that this is the first book I read in which I lost a beloved character.  Some kids will need preparation–others may surprise you.  I was a bit concerned about reading it aloud to Elanor–she’s a really sensitive little girl–but she was fine while I was tearing up during Charlotte’s death scene.

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to show Ellie the animated and live action versions of Charlotte’s Web so that she can give you her opinion about which she liked best.  I’ll introduce the idea of faithful adaptation so that she can evaluated if they are faithful.  I don’t really remember if the cartoon is terribly faithful, but I do remember loving the music.  I’ve never seen the live version so I have no idea what I’m in for.

I think five is about as young an age where this is a good real aloud.  The upper limit of the age depends on the purpose for which you’re reading it.  This is a book that belongs on any bookcase, whether you have children or not.

Book Review: The Little Rabbit Who Liked to Say MOO by Jonathan Allen

Screen Shot 2014-03-20 at 11.18.09 PMThe Little Rabbit Who Liked to Say MOO by Jonathan Allen

Rating 3/5 stars (me) 4/5 stars (Ellie)

Elanor has been watching a lot of Reading Rainbow lately.  This is a children’s tv program that showed in the US from 1983 through 2006 resulting in 155 episodes.  At the end of each episode, three children review books that they’ve read.  Elanor has been fascinated by these segments, and when I suggested she review a book for me, she was eager.  I will warn you in advance that this is Elanor’s first attempt at reviewing a book and her summarization and presentation skills are in line with a five year old who has never done this before.

I like The Little Rabbit Who Liked to Say Moo.  It’s a cute story that shows kids it’s okay to step outside the boundaries of what they’re supposed to do and to try new things.  Calf is surprised that Little Rabbit likes to say “moo.”  But when Little Rabbit asks him if he likes any other noises, the calf says that they like “baa.”  This brings over the lamb, and so forth.  At the end of the story, each of the baby animals reflects that they have fun saying the other sounds, but that they like their own noise best.  Except Little Rabbit–who reveals his very favorite sound on the last page.

I’d put this as a book that’s best for age 2 through maybe 6.  It’s a simple repetitive story that the younger kids can follow.  Kids like making the sounds along with you, which is what makes it a fun read aloud.  The illustrations are cute. There are no rhymes, which can make it (and the other Allen books) a nice break when your brain is about to fry from rhyming overload.  Personally, I would’ve picked up Little Rabbit because we like Jonathan Allen’s books in general and “I’m Not Sleepy” in particular.  Given my choices, I would’ve read it aloud a few times and then moved onto a book that I enjoy reading aloud more (or rereading) like Mo Willems–Mo Willems is always good for a dramatic reading.  But in our house the kids pick the books (or at least pick 2 of the 3 read alouds per night) so I read what I’m asked to read.

Unlike a “Llama Llama Red Pajama”–which I consider an essential addition to a home library–Little Rabbit only needs to visit your home from the library.