#Review - Girls with Razor Hearts by Suzanne Young #YA #SyFy

Series: Girls with Sharp Sticks # 2
Format: Hardcover, 400 pages
Release Date: March 17, 2020
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Source: NetGalley/Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Science Fiction

It’s time to fight back in this second novel in a thrilling, subversive near future series from New York Times bestselling author Suzanne Young about a girls-only private high school that is far more than it appears to be.

Make me a girl with a razor heart…

It’s been weeks since Mena and the other girls of Innovations Academy escaped their elite boarding school. Although traumatized by the violence and experimentations that occurred there, Mena quickly discovers that the outside world can be just as unwelcoming and cruel. With no one else to turn to, the girls only have each other—and the revenge-fueled desire to shut down the corporation that imprisoned them.

The girls enroll in Ridgeview Prep, a private school with suspect connections to Innovations, to identify the son of an investor and take down the corporation from the inside. But with pressure from Leandra, who revealed herself to be a double-agent, and Winston Weeks, an academy investor gone rogue, Mena wonders if she and her friends are simply trading one form of control for another. Not to mention the woman who is quite literally invading Mena’s thoughts—a woman with extreme ideas that both frighten and intrigue Mena.

And as the girls fight for freedom from their past—and freedom for the girls still at Innovations—they must also face new questions about their existence…and what it means to be girls with razor hearts. 

Girls with Razor Hearts is the second installment in author Suzanne Young's Girls with Sharp Sticks trilogy. It’s been a few weeks since Philomena (Mena), Sydney, Annalise, Brynn, & Marcella escaped Innovations Academy after learning a devastating secret: they're not human. Coming to terms with the fact that they are AI, created by men to be controlled and dominated by men, they are devastated and shell shocked. The girls now have one goal in mind, revenge. But, they are also trying to learn about the school's investors so they can destroy them.

Although traumatized by the violence and experimentations that occurred there, Mena quickly discovers that the outside world can be just as unwelcoming and cruel. Who can she trust? She basically leaves Jackson behind to move to Connecticut. Jackson was badly injured in the previous installment, but does make an appearance towards the last part of this story. Annalise is really suffering. No spoilers, but you should really have read the previous installment in understand why she struggles so much more than the other girls.  

Leandra Petrov, who used to be one of the girls, urges them to flee to Connecticut where they meet yet another piece of the large picture, Rosemarie. Mena and Sydney enroll in Ridgeview Prep, a private school with possible connections to Innovations, to identify the son of an investor and take down the corporation from the inside. But with pressure from Leandra, who revealed herself to be a double-agent, and Winston Weeks, an academy investor with his own machinations, as well as the appearance of Lennon Rose who is very much alive, Mena wonders if she and her friends are simply trading one form of control for another. 

Not to mention the woman who is quite literally invading Mena’s thoughts—a woman with extreme ideas that both frighten and intrigue Mena. If Mena and the girls can identify the (4) main investors in Innovations through the sons that go to school at Ridgeview, they could shut down Anton Petrov and his friends for good. But, first they have to deal with sexism, misogyny and good old racism towards Sydney. The boys of the school are truly able to get away with harassment, sexual assault, and suffer no consequences from anyone.

It's fair to say that both Mena and Annalise struggle with PTSD. Since this is from Mena's perspective, the author dives into her memories, not only from Innovations Academy, but other memories as well.The book dives deeper into the secrets behind the girls, the rotten foundations of the world, as well as the history of the Essential Women's Act which is still reverberating through society.  The author, unfortunately, has a tendency of adding in her personal views to the story which I take exception to. Which is why my rating is what it is. I understand that you hate men, but it's an unfair characterizations that is dragging the #MeTwo movement through the swamp. I am going to call this series subversive feminism and walk away.

 

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#Review - A Murderous Relation by Deanna Raybourn #Historical #Mystery

Series: Veronica Speedwell #5
Format: Hardcover, 320 pages
Release Date: March 10, 2020
Publisher: Berkley Books
Source: Publisher
Genre: Mystery & Detective / Historical

Veronica Speedwell navigates a dark world of scandal and murder in this new adventure from New York Times bestselling and Edgar Award nominated author Deanna Raybourn.

Veronica Speedwell and her natural historian colleague Stoker are asked by Lady Wellingtonia Beauclerk to help with a potential scandal so explosive it threatens to rock the monarchy. Prince Albert Victor is a regular visitor to the most exclusive private club in London, known as the Club de l’Etoile, and the proprietress, Madame Aurore, has received an expensive gift that can be traced back to the prince. Lady Wellie would like Veronica and Stoker to retrieve the jewel from the club before scandal can break.

Worse yet, London is gripped by hysteria in the autumn of 1888, terrorized by what would become the most notorious and elusive serial killer in history, Jack the Ripper—and Lady Wellie suspects the prince may be responsible.

Veronica and Stoker reluctantly agree to go undercover at Madame Aurore’s high class brothel, where another body soon turns up. Many secrets are swirling around Veronica and the royal family—and it’s up to Veronica and Stoker to find the truth, before it’s too late for all of them.

Story Locale: Victorian London
 

A Murderous Relation is the 5th installment in author Deanna Raybourn's Veronica Speedwell series. London, Autumn of 1888; Upon returning from Cornwall, at the urging of Lady Wellingtonia Beauclerk, lepidopterist Veronica Speedwell, along with natural historian, explorer, and taxidermist Revelstoke "Stoker" Templeton-Vane, are swept up in a mystery involving crowned Prince Albert Victor. Lady Wellie, who believes it is her duty to protect the royal family from scandal and gossip, requests that Veronica and Stoker help Princess Alexandra of Denmark, Veronica's stepmother due to her marriage to the Prince of Wales.

FYI, the Prince of Wales is Veronica's father but she is considered to be illegitimate and therefore unrecognized by the Royal family led by Queen Victoria. It seems that Veronica's half brother Prince Albert (affectionately known as Eddy) has been frequenting a club of bad reputation and has given a expensive gift to the enigmatic owner of the Club de l'Etoile named Madame Aurore. The scandal that could arise should this information be made public is astronomical. Alexandra wants Veronica/Stoker to steal back Albert's ring that he's given away.

Lady Wellie is also worried about the Jack the Ripper murders happening in Whitechapel which might also lead back to Eddy. **Prince Albert Victor was the subject of many rumors while he was alive, and some scholars theorized (later disproven) he was Jack the Ripper.**  Even though Veronica has been treated unfairly by the family, she has always chosen to protect them instead of burying them under scandal after scandal. Veronica's own uncle once tried to overthrow the monarchy for her. The fact that Veronica initially tells Alexandra, then ends up doing it anyway doesn't matter. 

Although Raybourn has been teasing Jack the Ripper storyline for a couple of books now, it's in no way a major part of this story which is too bad. Raybourn focuses on the women, the victims, rather than placing too much inherent focus on Jack the Ripper himself. Veronica and Stoker have gained quite the reputation for sleuthing and surviving against unbelievable odds. They might have to do so again in order to walk away from deadly twists and surprises. They have admirers and adversaries like Sir Hugo Montgomerie Head of Special Branch at Scotland Yard. Sir Hugo and Lady Wellie both consider their most important role is to protect the royal family. 

Inspector Mornaday from Special Branch is also a character to keep an eye out for. He's coveted his bosses position for some time now, and ends up right in the middle of Veronica and Stoker's investigation. Intrepid female reporter J.J. Butterworth can definitely be added to the admirers category after this story. Veronica has a decidedly un-Victorian her view of relationships between the sexes, and of the role of women in society which makes her stand out. Between Veronica and Stoker, however, they still haven't yet acted on the feelings they professed to one another in Cornwall. I liked seeing Veronica interact with Eddy who has been given quite the reputation by historians. Eddy might actually that Veronica is his sister and if circumstances were different, possibly have an actual familial relationship. 

Chapter

1

London, October 1888

What in the name of flaming Hades do you mean his lordship wants me to officiate at the wedding of a tortoise?“ Stoker demanded.

He appeared properly outraged-an excellent look for him, as it caused his blue eyes to brighten, his muscles to tauten distractingly as he folded his arms over his chest. I dragged my gaze from the set of his shoulders and attempted to explain our employer’s request again.

”His lordship wishes Patricia to be married and asks if you will do the honors,“ I told him. The fact that the Earl of Rosemorran had made such a request shouldn’t have given Stoker a moment’s pause; it was by far not the most outrageous of the things we had done since coming to live at Bishop’s Folly, his lordship’s Marylebone estate. We were in the process of cataloging and preparing the Rosemorran Collection-amassed thanks to a few hundred years of genteel avarice on the part of previous earls-in hopes of making it a proper museum. With our occasional forays into sleuthing out murderers and the odd blackmailer, we were a bit behind, and his lordship’s latest scheme was not calculated to improve matters.

”Veronica,“ Stoker said with exaggerated patience, ”Patricia is a Gal‡pagos tortoise. She does not require the benefit of clergy.“

”I realize that. And even if she did, you are not clergy. The point is that Patricia has been quite agitated of late and his lordship has taken advice on the matter. Apparently, she requires a husband.“

Patricia had been a gift from Charles Darwin to the present earl’s grandfather, a souvenir of his travels to the Gal‡pagos, and she occupied herself with eating lettuces and frightening visitors as she lumbered about with a disdainful expression on her face. She was as like a boulder as it was possible for a living creature to be, and the only moments of real interest were when she managed to upend herself, a situation that required at least three grown persons to rectify. But lately she had taken to hiding in the shrubbery, moaning mournfully, until the earl consulted a zoologist who suggested she was, as the earl related to me with significant blushes, tired of being a maiden tortoise.

I explained this to Stoker, adding, ”So his lordship has ordered a suitable mate and has every expectation that when Patricia is properly mated, she will be right as rain.“

Stoker’s expression was pained. ”But why a wedding? Tortoises are not precisely religious.“

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. ”Of course they aren’t. But Lady Rose is home just now and overheard her father discussing Patricia’s new mate.“ I started to elaborate but Stoker held up a quelling hand. The mention of the earl’s youngest and most precocious child was sufficient.

”I understand. But why am I supposed to perform the ceremony? Why can’t his lordship?“

”Because the earl is giving away the bride.“

Stoker’s mouth twitched, but he maintained a serious expression. ”Very well. But whilst I am marrying two tortoises, what will you be doing?“

”Me?“ I smiled graciously. ”Why, I am to be a bridesmaid.“

I would like to say that a tortoise wedding was the most eccentric of the tasks to which we applied ourselves during our time in his lordshipÕs employ; however, I have vowed to be truthful within these pages. Even as I persuaded Stoker to officiate at reptile nuptials, I was keenly aware that we were perched on the precipice of a new and most dangerous investigation. Our previous forays into amateur detection had been largely accidental, the result of insatiable curiosity on my part and an unwillingness to let well enough alone on StokerÕs. (He claims to involve himself in murderous endeavors solely for the benefit of my safety, but as I have saved his life on at least one occasion, his argument is as specious as LamarckÕs Theory of Inheritance.)

We had just emerged from a harrowing ordeal at the hands of a murderer in Cornwall when we were summoned back to London by Lady Wellingtonia Beauclerk, Lord Rosemorran’s elderly great-aunt and Žminence grise behind the throne. For the better part of the nineteenth century, she and her father had made it their mission to protect the royal family-not least from themselves. Lady Wellie meddled strategically, and no one save the royal family and a handful of very highly placed people of influence knew of her power. She dined twice a month with the Archbishop of Canterbury and regularly summoned the Foreign Secretary to tea, and the head of Scotland Yard’s Special Branch held himself at her beck and call. This last, Sir Hugo Montgomerie, was my sometime ally, albeit grudgingly on his part. He knew, as did Lady Wellie, that my natural father was the Prince of Wales. I was unacknowledged by the prince, which suited me perfectly, but my very existence was dangerous. My father had undergone a form of marriage with my mother-entirely illegal, as she was an Irishwoman of the Roman Catholic faith and he was forbidden by law to wed without the permission of his august mother, Queen Victoria.

”Bertie always was a romantic,“ Lady Wellie once told me with a fond sigh.

”There are other words for it,“ had been my dry response. Lady Wellie did not appreciate levity where her favorites were concerned, and my father occupied a particularly cozy spot in her affections. For that reason, perhaps, she was sometimes indulgent with me, turning a blind eye to my unconventional occupation as a lepidopterist. Butterfly hunting was a perfectly genteel activity for ladies, so long as one was properly chaperoned and never perspired. But I had made a comfortable living from my net, traveling the world in search of the most glorious specimens to sell to private collectors. Even if my parents’ union had been a conventional one, sanctioned by both church and state, the fact that I frequently combined business with pleasure-using my expeditions to exercise my healthy libido-would have made it impossible for the prince to recognize me officially as his child. That Lady Wellie had, in the days of her robust youth, indulged regularly in refreshing bouts of physical congress no doubt influenced her attitude of bland acceptance to my discreet activities.

In fact, she had encouraged them on more than one occasion, at least as far as Stoker was concerned. In spite of his numerous attractions-and the fact that we were both more than a little in love with one another-we had hitherto resisted the more primitive blood urges. Stoker frequently swam in whatever available pond or river provided a chilly respite, and I submerged my yearnings in rigorous scientific study and the odd evening spent sampling the collection of robust phallic artifacts I had been sent by a grateful gentleman who had escaped the noose thanks to our efforts on his behalf.

But in the course of our most recent adventure, Stoker and I had cast off our reticence at last, acknowledging that the curious mental and emotional bond we shared seemed to comprise a physical element as well. At least that was how I liked to phrase it. The truth, dear reader, is that I was as ready for him as any filly ready for the stud. My blood thrummed whenever he came near, the air crackling between us like one of Galvani’s electrical experiments. It was a mercy that we had not been alone in our train compartment on the journey back to London; otherwise, I suspect the urgent swaying of the conveyance would have proven too much for my increasingly limited self-control.

Stoker, as it happens, was possessed of more decorum. Lady Wellie would have pronounced him a romantic as well, for he insisted that our inaugural congress must be properly celebrated-to wit, in a bed. A comfortable bed, he added firmly, with a wide mattress and a sturdy frame and a headboard that would bear some abuse. I blinked at this last, but agreed, realizing that time and privacy would be required to fully sate us both.

The result was that we arrived back in London in a fever of anticipation, bickering happily about which of our lodgings should provide the better setting for our genteel debaucheries. Lord Rosemorran housed us in two of the follies on his estate, Stoker in a Chinese pagoda, and me in a miniature Gothic chapel.

”Mine has a wider bed,“ I pointed out.

”Mine is nearer the Roman temple baths,“ he reminded me. I fell into a reverie, distracted at the notion of a very wet, very imperfectly clothed Stoker and the hot, heavy air of the baths with their vast pools of heated water and comfortable sofas.

”Excellent point,“ I managed.

But we returned to find that the plumbing in the Roman baths had exploded modestly, damaging the temple and Stoker’s adjacent pagoda.

”No worries,“ Lord Rosemorran told him, unaware of our predicament and therefore jovially oblivious to our dismay. ”I have had Lumley move your things into the house. You can sleep upstairs. There is a very nice guest room next door to the night nursery.“

I spent the better part of that day trying to decide whether Stoker should break out of the house that night or whether I should break in, but in the end, the matter was decided for me. Preparations for the upcoming tortoise nuptials had set the household at sixes and sevens, and amidst the chaos, Lady Wellie sent for us. We had been summoned back to London at her insistence. The audacious killer known as Jack the Ripper had begun a murderous rampage, slaughtering his victims so brutally that it had caught the nation’s attention-and Lady Wellie’s. We knew the villain had struck again, two victims in the same night, and it was this heinous double crime that caused her to dispatch a telegram insisting upon our return and ending our Cornish adventure.

After the bracing air of Cornwall, London was a contrast of sooty fogs and afternoon lamps lit against the early October gloom. Lady Wellie awaited us in her private rooms, her dark gaze alert. A clock on the mantel ticked softly, and in the corner stood a large gilded cage in which two lovebirds chattered companionably. Lady Wellie flicked a significant glance towards the clock.

”It is about time,“ she said by way of greeting.

Stoker bent to brush a kiss to her withered cheek. She did not simper as she usually did, but her expression softened a little.

”I do apologize,“ I told her. ”His lordship waylaid us on the way in with news of alterations in our lodgings, and then we were sorting the details for a tortoise wedding. Patricia is to be a bride.“

Lady Wellie’s clawlike hand curved over the top of her walking stick. ”I know. I was asked to provide her with a bit of Honiton lace for a veil,“ she replied. ”But I have not summoned you here to discuss the latest family foray into madness. I need your help.“

Lady Wellie was plainspoken by habit but seldom quite so forthright. Stoker shot me a glance.

”The East End murderer,“ he supplied. ”We read the latest newspapers on the train this morning. He has a penchant for prostitutes, this fellow.“

”Not prostitutes,“ she corrected swiftly. ”The newspapers know what sells, but the most one can say definitively of these unfortunates is they are women who possibly turn to the trade in moments of necessity. None of them has been a true professional.“

”Does it make a difference?“ I put in.

”I imagine it does to them,“ she replied. Her hand flexed on the walking stick, and I noticed she did not offer us refreshment. Lady Wellie kept one eye on the ormolu clock upon the mantel as she spoke. For the first time, I was aware of a taut stillness in the room, something expectant, stretched on tiptoe. Even the lovebirds fell silent.

She went on. ”It is still early days in the investigation, but it seems each of them had a regular occupation-flower seller, hop picker. If they sold themselves, it was only to make the price of a bed at night or a pint of gin. When they had need of ready cash and nothing left to pawn, they exploited the only asset in their possession.“

”Poor devils,“ Stoker said softly. We lived in luxury thanks to his lordship’s largesse, but we had seen such women often enough in our travels about the city. Haggard and worn by worry and poor nutrition, they were old before their time, their flesh their only commodity. Whether they used their bodies to labor in a field or up against the rough brick of an alley wall, every ha’penny they collected was purchased at a dreadful cost.

Lady Wellie cleared her throat. ”Yes, well. As you can imagine, the newspapers cannot contain themselves. They are utterly hysterical on the subject, whipping up the capital into a fever of terror and speculation. I do not like the mood at present. Anything is possible.“

She narrowed her eyes, and I filled in the rest. ”You mean republicanism is on the rise again.“

”There is agitation in every quarter. These journalists“-her voice dripped scorn upon the word-”are taking this opportunity to stoke resentment against immigrants, against the Jews, and against the wealthy.“

”Not groups that ordinarily fall in for resentment from the same quarter,“ Stoker observed.

”They do now. The middle class is perfectly poised to hate in both directions. They think the lower orders criminal and they fear them even as they look down upon them. And they resent the rich for not taking better care of the situation, policing the poor and the indigent.“

I thought back to the tent city that had occupied Trafalgar Square for the better part of the year, row upon row of temporary structures sheltering those who had no other place to go. For months, the indigent had slept rough, washing themselves as best they could in the fountains, passing under the gaze of the Barbary lions. There were not enough soup kitchens and shelters and doss-houses to keep everyone fed and warm, and it was all too easy to step over some slumbering wretch upon the pavement and dismiss it as someone else’s trouble to solve.

”The mood, at present, is dangerous,“ she went on. ”The goodwill from last year’s Jubilee seems to have evaporated." Queen Victoria, desolate in her widowhood, had withdrawn from public life, immuring herself in stony silence at Windsor Castle.

But it had been two and a half decades since Prince Albert’s death, and the queen’s unwillingness to show herself to her people had bred annoyance, which had turned to outright debate about whether a monarchy was even relevant in modern times. The previous year’s Jubilee had seen the queen out and about, a rotund little figure swathed in black silk and larded with diamonds, nodding and waving to the cheers that resounded as her extended royal clan trotted obediently in her wake in a glorious and glittering panoply. But a year was a long time in public memory, and over the winter-the hardest in decades-privation and want had grown so terrible that all of the warm feeling of patriotism and bonhomie towards the royal family had melted like ice on a summer’s day.

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#Review - Bone Crier's Moon by Kathryn Purdie #YA #Fantasy

Series: Bone Grace #1
Format: Hardcover, 480 pages
Release Date: March 3, 2020
Publisher: Katherine Tegen Books
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Fantasy

Bone ​Criers have a sacred duty. They alone can keep the dead from preying on the living. But their power to ferry the spirits of the dead into goddess Elara’s Night Heavens or Tyrus’s Underworld comes from sacrifice. The gods demand a promise of dedication. And that promise comes at the cost of the Bone Criers’ one true love.

Ailesse has been prepared since birth to become the matriarch of the Bone Criers, a mysterious famille of women who use strengths drawn from animal bones to ferry dead souls. But first she must complete her rite of passage and kill the boy she’s also destined to love.

Bastien’s father was slain by a Bone Crier and he’s been seeking revenge ever since. Yet when he finally captures one, his vengeance will have to wait. Ailesse’s ritual has begun and now their fates are entwined—in life and in death.

Sabine has never had the stomach for the Bone Criers’ work. But when her best friend Ailesse is taken captive, Sabine will do whatever it takes to save her, even if it means defying their traditions—and their matriarch—to break the bond between Ailesse and Bastien. Before they all die.

Bone Crier's Moon is the first installment in author Kathryn Purdie's Bone Grace duology. Bone Criers are the last descendants of an ancient famille charged with shepherding the dead into the afterlife. The afterlife is separated by darkness (Tyrus) and light (Elara). But, there's part of the job that's pretty disgraceful. The women must kill the men who answer the call of their siren songs. These men aren't random unfortunate souls, they're amourés, a predestined soulmate. After they call their amouré with the bone flute, they are linked by the ritual and will both die in a year if they don't kill him first. 

But, without the Ferriers, the dead would wander the land of the living. Ferrier's are completely composed of women who draw their extrasensory powers and physical strength from the animals they hunt and kill. The book is narrated by three characters: Sabine, Ailesse, and Bastien. 8 years ago, Bastien watched as his father was killed by a Bone Crier. He was told to believe every story that you hear about the Legend of the Bone Criers. Bastion, along with his friends Jules & Marcel, has sworn to find and hunt down the women in white so no other child loses their father.

17-year old Ailesse, daughter of Odiva, was born to hunt. Her mother Odiva, is the greatest Leuress huntress. Ailesse has been prepared since birth to become the matriarch of the Bone Criers, but first she must complete her rite of passage and kill her soulmate. Every Leurress must obtain (3) grace bones to become a Ferrier of the dead. The purpose of the bones are to be a strong enough fighter to "ferry" the chained and unchained souls to their final destination. The final passage is to kill a human male who is her amouré. When her ritual goes awry, she’s kidnapped by Bastien, leaving the spirits of the dead trapped and restless. Unbeknownst to Bastien, he is literally tied to her life precluding his ability of killing her and surviving.

16-year old Sabine is a bone carver with no desire for killing. She's only been able to force herself to kill one of the three animals required before she's able to have her rite of passage. The paltry salamander bone she killed for its graces (quick healing) still weighs heavily on her conscience. She's equally loyal to Ailesse and puts her needs in front of her own on numerous occasions. Sabine bears witnesses to what happens on Castelpont Bridge and vows to do whatever it takes to save her, even if it means defying Odiva to break the bond between Ailesse and Bastien before they both die. Sabine ends up doing things that she wouldn't normally do, including finding bones powerful enough to fight back against Bastien, Marcel and Jules who have prepared for years to gain revenge on the women who took their father's away. 

One of the most predictable storylines is the Soulmates who are destined for death and go from enemies to lovers and then to make things even more diabolical, the author jumps in with yet another final twist and dagger straight for your heart. While Sabine, Bastien, & Ailesse are the main characters, it would behoove you to pay attention of Jule and especially Marcel who is the brilliant researcher who knows a lot about the Bone Crier's and then learns even more from Ailesse. I would also tell you to pay close attention to the machinations of Odiva and her stunning announcement that changes things for one character in particular.

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#Review - The Merciful Crow by Margaret Owen #YA #Fantasy

Series: The Merciful Crow #1
Format: Hardcover, 384 pages
Release Date: July 30, 2019
Publisher: Henry Holt (BYR)
Source: Library
Genre: Young Adult / Dark Fantasy

A young chieftain from a lowly caste of mercy-killers must rely on her wits and bone magic to smuggle the crown prince to safety.

With clever magic, a star-crossed romance, and lethal stakes, The Merciful Crow is a YA fantasy debut perfect for fans of Sabaa Tahir, Leigh Bardugo, and Kendare Blake.

As a future chieftain of the Crow caste, sixteen-year-old Fie abides by one rule: look after your own. Her clan of undertakers and mercy-killers takes more abuse than coin, but when her family is called to collect royal dead, she’s hoping they’ll find the payout of a lifetime. Instead, they find a still-living crown prince, his cunning bodyguard, and a common foe: a ruthless usurper queen who wants them all dead.

Fie agrees to smuggle the prince across the nation in exchange for her people's safety. But with the queen’s brutal hunters on their tail, she's forced to make the sacrifices that define a true leader.
 

The Merciful Crow is the first installment in author Margaret Owen's The Merciful Crow series. In this world, there are (5) different castes that represent different parts of the population. Each caste possesses their own birthright, a power they can wield at will; each caste that is, except the Crows. Crows are the lowest on the ladder and the most disrespected. Crows are called upon in every city where the plague has infected a city. Without the Crows help, the plague would spread and kill all the people in the village, so even though the Crows are loathed to the core, people really need the Crows to survive.

16-year old Chief-in-Training & born witch Fie is a Merciful Crow whose duty is to answer every summons when someone is infected with the Sinner's Plague. The Crow caste members band together for survival. They are untouched by the plague that ravages Sabor. The Oleander gentry (cloaked in white) are the Crows worst nightmare. The Crows live in fear of being caught and killed by the Oleander's. They live by one main rule: Take care of your own. When Fie and her band of crows take two plague-infected bodies from the royal palace for the first time in five hundred years, she doesn’t expect how her life will change from now on. 

Fie's father makes a deal with the Crown Prince of Sabor, Jasimi and his body double, Tavin to pretend they are dead of the plague in exchange for the Crows taking the Prince and his bodyguard across the nation. The Prince swears that once he is King he will have the Crows protected from threats. Queen Rhusana has been trying hard to kill off all members of the Royal family so that she can take full control over Sabor. She desperately wants to prevent Jasimi, Tavin and Fie from succeeding in their mission that is fraught in peril, betrayal, and death. 

With help from both Oleander and Skinwitches tracking their every movement, there's no room for mistakes. After a devastating betrayal which puts her entire family in harms way, Fie becomes the Crows leader by relying on her cunning and strength to smuggle the prince away from a murderous court, while trying her best to ignore the emotion she refuses to feel for the prince's guard. It's heartbreaking at times to read this book knowing how awful Fie and her Crows are treated. If they didn't do their jobs, the entire country could fall to the Sinner's Plague. The caste system created for this story is based on birds with the Phoenix at the top and the Crows at the bottom. Fie's uses of bones to help her people survive is also unique and amazing.

There have been comparisons to both Six of Crows as well as Children of Blood and Bone. The last book I haven't read so I can't agree nor disagree with others. 

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#Review - We Are Blood and Thunder by Kesia Lupo #YA #Fantasy

Series: We Are Blood and Thunder #1
Format: Hardcover, 448 pages
Release Date: March 3, 2020
Publisher: Bloomsbury YA
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Dark Fantasy

In this sweeping YA fantasy debut, two girls—one running away, and one returning home—find their magical fates intertwined.

On the edges of a sealed-off city, two girls meet for only a moment. Lena is on the run after being sentenced to death for possessing magic; Constance will do anything to get back inside her former home. But the brief encounter in the misty, dangerous Duke’s Forest is long enough to alter both of their fates.

As Lena finds a place where she can develop her powers, Constance must decide whether to trust her former family and friends. All the while, the girls remain connected through terrifying storm clouds that hang over the land—clouds that only the two of them hold the keys to dispelling. But the truth behind the clouds’ presence is shockingly sinister . . . and could mean that one girl will lose everything.

This rich, immersive fantasy includes a shocking ending that will make readers want to revisit Lena and Constance’s story from the beginning.
 

We Are Blood and Thunder is author Kesia Lupo's debut novel. This story actually features two main characters; Lena and Constance. Lena is a cryptling working for Vigo, the Mortician. She, like others who have deformities, are relegated to the darkness and they must hide their faces if they go outside. They are in all essence abandoned by their families because of their deformities. Cryptlings dedicate their lives to serving the ancestors. The Ancestors are the dead who are given specific rights when they pass from the world. 

When she discovers an unusual metal butterfly, she wonders what makes her so special and keeps it hidden for years. When she learns that she has magic at the most inopportune time, she's found guilty of magecraft and sentenced to die. The cloud that hangs above the city of Duke’s Forest has brought pestilence, death, and misery for the people of Duke’s Forest. With the City under quarantine, 1/2 the city dead, a King who is no longer in control, it's a very bad time for Lena to be charged with being a Mage. 

Justice rules the city with an iron fist. He truly believes that magic is the root cause of the pestilence and preys on the people's fears and exacerbates the entire situation resulting in a manhunt. Thanks to her mentor Vigo, Lena escapes the manhunt, the city and being killed by Justice's Hounds. In the Duke's Forest, Lena meets a young  masked woman who is apparently a mage returning to the city. In the Forest, Lena also meets Emris Lochlade, a huntsmen from the City of Kings who has been searching for the masked mage who Lena encountered. 

Emris calls Lena a Rogue Mage and takes her to the City of Kings where she must either be trained and initiated into a temple, or be killed. The City of Kings provides refuge to Rogue mages, to control their abilities and pledge their allegiance to one of nine temples throughout the city. As Lena begins training Emris, she begins to discover her powers which has given her a new identity as a mage. As she searches for answers, Lena looks in places that she shouldn’t, that Emris has explicitly warned her about, for there are 13 mages who are not beholden to a god, but to the king himself, and when one of them, Lord Chatham, discovers her abilities, he will do anything to have her forcing her and Emris to run back to the Duke's Forest where she will encounter Constance's machinations.

Meanwhile, the masked mage Lena encountered in Dukes Forest is Constance Rathbone, the first born daughter of the Duke who left 6 years ago under mysterious conditions and traveled to the City of Kings where she trained with Emris. Constance is shocked to see what’s become of her hometown after she left 6 years ago. The shops are no longer bright, the people are hidden away, the vegetation is dying and of course, the storm cloud looms  Constance is confronted with her fathers ailing health and the oppression and cruelty of the Justice.

With her father slowly fading away, Constance hopes that with her half brother Winton's help, and other key players, she can petition and win the right to be named Protector of the City. Constance begins a quest to not only get all of the Wise Men to stand behind her, but to find an end to Justice's brutal rule. Constance also believes that she may hold the key to ridding her former home of the pestilence that has touched everyone. But, when the Ancestors begin to rise like the Walking Dead, Constance's unexplained absence raises suspicion among her kinfolk, forcing to admit that she's a mage and has chosen to claim her birthright as heir. 

The chapters alternate between Lena and Constance as they try to search for the answers to their own questions until their stories merge and they find themselves fighting the same battle. But, are they on the same side? What is Constance really doing back in Duke's Forest? Can Lena survive returning to her home? Or, will Justice finally catch up to her? Will Emris, who had a relationship with Constance, and feels that Lena might be his future, change his mind when Constance's machinations are revealed?

Good news! This is actually a standalone! You can read this from beginning to end and know that a resolution is, in fact, coming! You don't have to wait for the second installment which should be called a companion novel. That is unless you want to see what Lupo comes up with next.

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#Review - Be Not Far From Me by Mindy McGinnis #YA #Thrillers #Suspense

Series: Standalone
Format: Hardcover, 240 pages
Release Date: March 3, 2020
Publisher: Katherine Tegen Books
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Thrillers & Suspense

Hatchet meets Wild in this stunning contemporary YA novel from Edgar Award–winning author Mindy McGinnis, a compelling and harrowing story about one girl’s attempt to survive the impossible after she gets lost in the Smoky Mountains.

The world is not tame. Ashley knows this truth deep in her bones, more at home with trees overhead than a roof. So when she goes hiking in the Smokies with her friends for a night of partying, the falling dark and creaking trees are second nature to her. But people are not tame either. And when Ashley catches her boyfriend with another girl, drunken rage sends her running into the night, stopped only by a nasty fall into a ravine. Morning brings the realization that she’s alone—and far off trail.

Lost in undisturbed forest and with nothing but the clothes on her back, Ashley must figure out how to survive, putting into practice all the tricks she learned from Davey Beet, her childhood crush and summer camp counselor. But she can’t outrun the red streak of infection that’s creeping up her leg—or the fear of another truth. Years before, Davey’s own broken heart sent him into these woods . . . and he never came out. How can Ashley expect to survive?

Mindy McGinnis' Be Not Far From Me is an emotional book about surviving the wilderness, but also surviving life and learning from past experiences. 17-year old Ashley Hawkins is out with her friends on one final summer party before school starts in the fall. But, after she catches her supposed boy friend, Duke, with another girl, Ashley decides to run off into the woods without her shoes or her backpack and without telling anyone where she's going.

Ashley spent her childhood with her dad after her mom left for no explained reason. She struggles to come to terms with her guilt for the loss, and builds a tough outer shell because of it. She and her dad are not well off, but make the most of what they have. He introduces her to the wild, and she never looks back. Ashley's one bright spot was the days she spent at summer camp where she meets Davey Beet who, in reality, taught her how to survive what she does through in this story.

A series of unfortunate events causes her to fall into a ravine, crushing her foot but not her spirit. She uses what she has learned over the years to not only take care of herself, but to attempt to find her way to civilization, and along the way, she learns more and more about the woman she is becoming, and the things that have happened in her life to make her that way. Ashley goes through some harrowing trials, but she keeps going. It's inspiring in such an unexpected way. The chapters are written in a day to day format, so at the beginning they are much longer, whereas once time has taken its toll, there are some instances where a chapter may only be a paragraph. 

I think there's a duality of messages in this story. First, don't rush off into the woods without being prepared for what you might expect. Even her friend Davey didn't bumble his way into the woods. He went prepared. Second, hold onto your faith and your emotions. Ashley let's her drunken emotions get the best of her and almost dies in the process. Conveniently, Ashley also finds things she needs the most almost as though someone put them there for her in her time of need.  Fair warning though, this book contained mostly inner narration and flashbacks to Ashley's unique childhood.

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#Review - Witches of Ash and Ruin by E. Latimer #Fantasy

Series: Unknown
Format: Hardcover, 384 pages
Release Date: March 3, 2020
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Source: Publisher
Genre: Young Adult / Fantasy

Modern witchcraft blends with ancient Celtic mythology in an epic clash of witches and gods, perfect for fans of V.E. Schwab's Shades of Magic trilogy and CHILLING ADVENTURES OF SABRINA.

Seventeen-year-old Dayna Walsh is struggling to cope with her somatic OCD; the aftermath of being outed as bisexual in her conservative Irish town; and the return of her long-absent mother, who barely seems like a parent. But all that really matters to her is ascending and finally, finally becoming a full witch-plans that are complicated when another coven, rumored to have a sordid history with black magic, arrives in town with premonitions of death. Dayna immediately finds herself at odds with the bewitchingly frustrating Meiner King, the granddaughter of their coven leader.

And then a witch turns up murdered at a local sacred site, along with the blood symbol of the Butcher of Manchester-an infamous serial killer whose trail has long gone cold. The killer's motives are enmeshed in a complex web of witches and gods, and Dayna and Meiner soon find themselves at the center of it all. If they don't stop the Butcher, one of them will be next.

With razor-sharp prose and achingly real characters, E. Latimer crafts a sweeping, mesmerizing story of dark magic and brutal mythology set against a backdrop of contemporary Ireland that's impossible to put down.

E. Latimer's Witches of Ash and Ruin tells the tale of 17-year old Dayna Walsh and those around her as a serial killer enters her peaceful small town of Carman, Ireland and creates chaos. Dayna is a witch and so is her friend Reagan who apparently has two mothers. Dayna is the daughter of a local reverend. She recently ended a relationship with Samuel after her sexuality was forcibly outed. On top of that, her absent mother Fiona returns looking worse than when she left and she struggles to also deal with OCD. 

To top that off, Dayna actually fears that her father will send her away to camp now that her secret has been revealed. I think the relationship between Dayna and her parents could have been sussed out more than it is. The Reverend is like a dark figure in the background who may or may not have his own secrets that could severely affect Dayna. Dayna spends most of her time with Reagan which seemingly doesn't bother the good reverend until something bad happens. Dana's coven mates are more supportive and more of a family than the Reverend or Fiona. 

Meanwhile, Meiner King, Grandma King, and Cora Whelan arrive in town to help Dayna's coven deal with the killer. Between Meiner & Cora, there's a power struggle over who will lead the coven after Grandma King dies. Grandma has been keeping some secrets. Secrets that play right into the killer's hands. Dayna and Meiner have a hate to love relationship when they first meet which slowly becomes a friendship and perhaps more. This novel is a dark, modern take on witches, blended with ancient Celtic mythology. 

One thing that may trip up some readers is all the points of view. There are five: Dayna, Meiner, Cora, Dubh, and Samuel. Samuel's was the perhaps the unnecessary one as he brought nothing to the story and disappears when most of the action takes place, Dubh's is the darkest for reasons you can figure out yourself. While Latimer takes time to build each character, the two characters that shine through the most are Dayna and Meiner. Both break hearts and infuriate in equal measure.  

Latimer does not shy away from the murders, and though there are a few disturbing/gory moments, it is never written in a “shock value” way. The story ends on a cliffhanger, which also isn't a good thing, especially since there's nothing to indicate that this was supposed to be part of a series. A note for publishers and authors. You should definitely tell interested readers whether or not this is a standalone or part of a series. You definitely lost a rating from me because of it. 

The best way to hunt a witch was to look for patterns of three.

Three stones set into a wild, overgrown path. Three chimneys sending twisting ribbons of smoke into a clear sky. Three gates before the inner sanctuary—each more heavily spelled than the last. Find the house of threes, and you’d find the coven.

Dubh had traveled for days. In fact, he’d almost driven past the place. His tourist map was filled with colorful pins at every stopover—Kiss the Blarney Stone! Visit the Irish National Heritage Park!—but this miserable little village didn’t warrant a mention. He’d blown past the welcome sign without a glance, almost continuing into County Wexford. Almost. Something had pulled at his insides as he’d reached the village limits, tugging painfully at his guts. He’d turned the rental car around and followed the sensation down a rambling back road that twisted endlessly through green fields, leading him to this driveway in the woods. And there it was. A farmhouse with three crooked chimneys, windows shuttered against the dark forest.

The power rolled off this house in waves. It raised the hairs on the back of his neck and sent goose bumps up both arms.

These witches would give him the first real fight in years.

He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, feeling the jagged edge of his right canine.

In a few weeks he’d return. Push his way through the middle gate, the one with the black iron that curved into sharp fangs at the top. Something to look forward to, to make the days go by faster.

He always saved the best for last.

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