Rhythm of War is the epitome of high fantasy, emphasis on high; lush descriptions, wonderfully fleshed-out characters, richly-woven world-building, itRhythm of War is the epitome of high fantasy, emphasis on high; lush descriptions, wonderfully fleshed-out characters, richly-woven world-building, it’s a story that ensnares you body and soul and pulls you in heart-pounding battles and moments of courage that make you humbly acknowledge the author’s insurmountable talent. So, I won’t talk about them. Many reviews have been written that shed light on its magnitude, and my love for this series is no secret. Instead, I’ll talk about my personal experience with this book, and why it meant so much to me.
Rhythm of War was the first book I read after my father passed away last September. It was a milestone I didn’t think I’d cross back then, because I had developed an unprecedented aversion to reading; I couldn’t look at books, I couldn’t touch or smell them, and even the mere thought of reading made me nauseous. I always believed that books are the perfect remedy for sadness and all ailments of the heart and the soul, however, during those critical times, they failed me. Perhaps this mindset was rooted in the part of me that believed that I could no longer find joy or solace in things I did Before; that I didn’t deserve to be happy or find comfort or forget, even for a few minutes, that he is gone and I won’t see him again. However, another part of me wanted to reclaim this piece of Katerina that was ripped off by his death, the book girl who lived and breathed words, but, in order to do so, I had to get past the nausea, the distaste and persist. And I knew, I simply knew that the only person who would and could accompany me in this difficult journey was Brandon Sanderson.
And I was right.
Kaladin’s battle with depression, his struggle to get up and do things and claim his place in the world, his constant descent to a bottomless darkness and his wish to stop suffering, one way or another, resonated with me in a primal level. Shallan’s refusal to acknowledge her past and accept reality and her continuous fabrications aiming at its avoidance or alteration, even though they occasionally bugged me, they showed me that no one is perfect, and you can’t escape from the hurt that haunts you if you don’t look it in the eye. Adolin’s support and persistence showed me that despite the ugly things in your mind and your heart, there are still people out there to hold you and care for you, when you can’t do it yourself. Navani’s ability to work and even enjoy things under severe stress and pressure, and Dalinar’s strength and resolve, were deeply inspiring. And those precious moments I spent being anxious for a world that it’s not my own, that dulled the pain even to a minimum degree, were my victory towards that voice in my head that still whispers that I should just sit down, wallow in despair and embrace the pain because pain is all there is.
Reading didn’t come easily after Rhythm of War. I experienced another long slump, until a couple of months ago, when I suddenly realized that I needed the distraction, as the days leading to the first anniversary of that day pass by and I relive all the horrible moments of last summer, and nowadays I’m swallowing books, trying to outrun the memories of the last time my family was whole.
Don’t worry, my other reviews won’t be this maudlin and gloomy. I just wanted to thank Brandon Sanderson for throwing me a buoy when I was drowning....more
A dare that results in a fake relationship? ✔ Briar U hockey team? ✔ SProbably my favorite Briar U installment!
“I dare you to seduce Conor Edwards.”
A dare that results in a fake relationship? ✔ Briar U hockey team? ✔ Sorority drama? ✔ Briar U hockey team? ✔ A surfer-boy who looks like a sexy Viking conqueror but has a heart of gold? ✔ Briar U hockey team? ✔ Otherworldly chemistry? ✔ Briar U hockey team? ✔ Laugh-out-loud moments? ✔ Do I even have to say it?
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I’ll never get tired of Elle Kennedy’s hockey romances *insert heart-eyes*. While she stays true to her recipe for success (hotness overload, angst, humor) she always spices up her dish, making her relationships unique and so, so enjoyable. The Dare is the ideal combination of heart-warming, scorching and funny; one moment you’re cackling like a hen, then you proceed with the necessary damage control related to explosions that occur in the ovaries area and then boom! your insides are twisted in knots and you can’t handle the tension and the conflicts that crush your soul. But you’re also thankful because of those fuzzy things called feelings which are all over Conor and Taylor’s story.
There are many reasons to love The Dare, but the main one is that the world doesn’t deserve Conor Edwards. Conor’s easygoing and charming manner, his flirtatiousness but also the hurt and shame he tries to hide behind his carefree demeanor and the string of conquests add up to a fascinating, utterly endearing male lead who is dirty and at the same time considerate and kind. His relationship with Taylor, despite the occasional bumps (I’ll come back to this later) is genuine, infused with mirth, scorching times and butterfly dances.
However, there is one thing that prevented me from rating it with 5 stars: there were two events falling under the llama drama category, and while the drama per se didn’t bother me, Conor and Taylor’s reactions did. I won’t elaborate further in order to avoid spoilers, but I’ll just say that they could be resolved without inflicting so much pain.
Now, let’s address one of the basic themes of this novel: body issues. When I finished the book, I felt Taylor’s fixation on her body and what she considered her flaws were over the top, and I was mentally prepared to embark on a rant about how much space her insecurities took up.
And then I went shopping for a swimsuit.
All those insecurities that haunted Taylor almost drowned me. Having a tiny waist and disproportionate hips has always been the bane of my existence, but there came a point when I accepted, albeit reluctantly, that I was not willing to starve in order to be skinny because I’ll never get skinny. That’s my body. I was okay with that. But when you go shopping, when you find yourself struggling to get in those gorgeous pants or that cute bikini bottom, every speech about accepting and embracing your body, your cellulite etc. flies out of the window. And I am mad at the world for what it does to women. I am mad that people who are beautiful inside and outside constantly question themselves and judge their worth by the size of their clothes. Taylor was over the top, but I empathized with her. She was me. She was you. She was every girl throughout the centuries, the one who wore horrible corsets or the one who suffers from anorexia, who has felt inadequate and not comfortable in her own skin, who thinks she’s too thin, too fat, too ugly, too tall, too short, too real. And I am happy that Elle Kennedy decided to acknowledge and tackle this problem, that she voiced the body issues and insecurities that always plague us and make us undermine our value.
The Dare was the perfect conclusion to Briar U (unless Elle Kennedy plans to bestow more hockey hotness on us thirsty fangirls *wiggles eyebrows*), and the definition to one-sitting-read. So, as a wise man once said, read it people.
*ARC generously provided in exchange for an honest review*
Disclaimer: I reviewed this as one of the BookNest judges for the first round of SPFBO (Self-Published Fantasy Blog-Off) 2020 hosted by Mark Lawrence.Disclaimer: I reviewed this as one of the BookNest judges for the first round of SPFBO (Self-Published Fantasy Blog-Off) 2020 hosted by Mark Lawrence. You can read more for SPFBO here!
❝ Hush, pretty baby, don’t say a word. Mama’s gone and called you a sweet blackbird. When that little blackbird does come, Mama’s gonna buy you a big war drum ❞
London, 1486. The War of the Roses is over. Henry VII wedded Elizabeth of York, joining their noble families and putting an end to years of mindless bloodshed and tragedy. Not everyone is happy though, and a disgraced Yorkist nobleman seeks retribution: the murder of the royal family in order to install on the throne the imprisoned Plantagenet boy. The setting of his plot? The festivities for the birth of the heir apparent. England’s only chance? A sidhe, descendant of the Morrigan herself, who arrives in England bound by the call of an ancient oath, and twenty four women. Common, like the blackbird of the lullaby. Common enough to thwart a conspiracy that threatens to wreak havoc on their world.
❝ Sing a song for sixpence A pocketful of rye Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie ❞
Blackbirds Sing is an unexpectedly refreshing novel. The format itself is extraordinary; twenty four pieces of a puzzle, twenty four seemingly unrelated stories whose threads are woven together by a woman straight out of Irish mythology, one of the tuatha dé danann with grief in her heart and the grave determination to do right by an old geas and the people who have suffered on the whims of their superiors. A prostitute, a former nun, an assassin, a midwife, a healer, a blind musician, a thief, a servant and so many more, a cast of diverse women, a canvas full of stars that form a bright constellation. There was nothing awkward or out of place in Blackbirds Sing. Every single story was solid; starting off slowly, giving you the time to adjust to the life of the new heroine, and then plunging into the events with a potential to unravel history, enhanced by the outstandingly detailed and beautiful illustrations by Caitlyn McPherson. The tremendous amount of research conducted by Aiki Flinthart is evident and infuses the novel with authenticity, offering great insight on the daily lives of medieval women. But there is more than historical accuracy in the persons, their clothing, their alimentation, their professions, their lifestyle. There is heart in this novel. Enough heart to make you connect with the characters, care for them, share their worries and their joys and their sorrows, even shed a tear or two for everything they have sacrificed.
❝ For every woman who had lost a son or a husband or a father. For every innocent victim of these stupid men’s games of war and power. ❞
With the blackbirds’ song, Aiki Flinthart lends her voice to the nobodies and the nothings throughout the centuries, the women who lost everything in men’s pursuit of power and money, the women who were abused, manipulated, raped and manhandled, who were downright prohibited from pursuing their goals, whose dreams were beaten out of them, whose spirits were crushed and battered, who were forced to give up the ones they loved, who were sold like merchandise and yet persisted. And it is sad when you realize that, even after all these years, inequality and injustice are the society’s answer to the ones considered weak. The ones who are different. The ones who don’t fit the mold. It’s exactly this kind of injustice that Aiki Flinthart and her blackbirds fight tooth and nail, in small acts of rebellion to full-blown revolution.
❝ Maybe there’ll come a day when saving babies and mothers is easy. When keeping them alive is more important to men than killing each other over thrones and all. ❞
The only thing that slightly bothered me was the occasional difficulty to follow the different names and their capacities, but I suppose that’s to be expected from a scatterbrained lawyer who spends her days floating among contracts and loans while daydreaming of shedding her suit and donning her nerd-wear (i.e. her awesome pajamas). And, on a side note, if you’re not familiar with the basics from the War of the Roses, you may find yourself a little disoriented.
While reading Blackbirds Sing, you can feel it in your bones that Aiki Flinthart poured her soul into this novel, she sang her characters to life and the result was a powerful and inspiring historical fiction with just the right pinch of magic that was the best way to start this year’s SPFBO. I wish the author all the best in the competition and her future endeavors....more
Maren Mitchell – less than. The world was never kind to Maren Mitchell. For years she’s been strugglingAngst, longing and HEART (and a couple of tears)
Maren Mitchell – less than. The world was never kind to Maren Mitchell. For years she’s been struggling to curve her place in a society that rejects her, and she’s come to anticipate one setback after the next. What she never anticipated was to be offered the chance to work at Rosethorn, a lush, Gilded Age mansion, owned by the powerful and disgustingly rich Cromwell family. Her employment, the time she spends with Cornelia Cromwell and the stuff, they are a dream coming true, an oasis in a life full of hardships. But there is someone threatening to shatter her glass castle, and turn her carriage to a pumpkin.
Nicholas Hunt. Cornelia’s grandson is always suspicious when it comes to new people entering Rosethorn. But after a scandal that rattled their peace, his hackles are raised and he will not allow anyone to upset his grandmother again. Maren Mitchell reeks of danger. Of schemes. He has investigated her past, and he is sure she cannot be trusted. He will do anything to remove her from his family's estate. He will not be fooled by her luscious curves, her innocent smile, the way she’s hurt when he’s cruel. Or will he?
R.S. Grey is the source of constant surprise. She has always been my solace when I’m in need of romance to sweep me off my feet, and Love the One You Hate was no exception. It was an exception, though, to her funny – sexy – sweet golden rule, and in all honesty, that was a good thing. Because Love the One You Hate was an emotional roller-coaster. It was different from her previous books, more focused on wrecking hearts rather than showering with chuckles. Maren’s life, the way she was treated, constantly faced with extreme prejudice because she was a foster kid, it was a punch to the gut. Always condemned at first sight, losing opportunities for trusting the wrong people, for having the misfortune of being orphaned; she was a resilient character, practical, not eager to believe in fairytales. However, she found her fairy godmother in the face of an elderly woman who was tired of feeling lonely. She was dressed with fine clothes and glass slippers, she was the protégé of the queen of the realm, and even though she knew the dream was bound to end, she was for once content. Only Prince Charming was not so charming at first. He hated her, hated what he thought she represented. And overcome by fear, he hurt her. But something changed. His heart of ice melted and showed the kindness and the fire that burned brightly. And this passion, it consumed them.
Decadent, luscious and spicy, Love the One You Hate is a modern fairytale, a whirlwind of anger, tenderness and passion. A story of many types of love, of family ties, of acceptance, set in a luxurious society, with lavish descriptions of fancy dresses, balls and charity events, of a life that seems far away yet so close thanks to the amount of soul R.S. Grey pours into her words, to the chemistry between Maren and Nicholas, to the slow-burning romance, to the scorching encounters and the small and big heartbreaks. You will read and read until your eyes sting. You will burn and bask in the glorious tension. You will finish it with tear stained cheeks.
And your heart will be full in an exhilarating way.
*ARC generously provided by the author in exchange for an honest review*
This story is now buried in my molecules. I can’t remove it even if I try, if I cut my heart open with a scalpel and dig deep, deepA true masterpiece.
This story is now buried in my molecules. I can’t remove it even if I try, if I cut my heart open with a scalpel and dig deep, deep, deep. The blood pouring will still hum and whisper Elizabeth Gaskell’s words, will sing about Thornton’s passion, Margaret’s strength, about love and social war and loss and pain and faith.
❝ Take care. If you do not speak – I shall claim you as my own in some strange presumptuous way. Send me away at once, if I must go; – Margaret! –❞
Raised in the ways of English aristocracy, despite her family’s rather poor finances, Margaret Hale was content with her life, her beloved Helstone with its fragrant roses and green trees, helping her father’s fold. But when her father decided to leave the Church and move to the industrial North, Margaret found herself between dirty, uneducated workers and tacky, rude mill owners, in the throes of Industrial Revolution. Mr. John Thornton, the mill owner who became regular visitor of her house due to the unlikely friendship that blossomed between him and her father, became her personal nemesis, representing the lust for money and the lack of finesse. Amidst strikes, illnesses and terrible losses, Margaret will see her life falling apart, shaping and reshaping according to the whims of fate. The question is, what kind of person will she be in the end?
Many compare North and South to Pride and Prejudice and, at first glance, the similarities are there. Margaret is the embodiment of prejudice and pride when it comes to Mr. Thornton and his profession, with her stern refusal to actually open her eyes and see him. But the core of North and South is something different altogether. It is intense, not only as regards the passionate love story, but also as regards the heavy element of class antagonism, social mobility and fight. I struggle to find the words that will express the impact of this book on my very soul. It is turbulence, a maelstrom that cleansed my mind from thoughts about the present, and filled my senses with wild emotions. I suppose this is how falling in love feels like. Ever since I finished it, every time I think about it, my heart swells, like it can’t contain my strong, bottomless affection; I let out such affection with tiny, shallow breaths; my head is constantly buzzing, never leaving the dirty streets and the heavy smoke of Milton; a sweet shiver jolts my body and my eyes sting when I recall all the reasons it is embedded in my veins. It is the passion, in heavy silences, in heated arguments, in awkward pauses, in the beast of jealousy that devours Mr. Thornton’s insides and the snake of Margaret’s prejudice.
❝ He shrank from hearing Margaret's very name mentioned; he, while he blamed her – while he was jealous of her – while he renounced her – he loved her sorely, in spite of himself.❞
It is the love, of a rejected lover, a father, a mother, a son, a brother, a sister, a daughter, a friend.
❝ Margaret was not a ready lover, but where she loved she loved passionately, and with no small degree of jealousy.❞
It is the faith, along with the pertinent doubts, struggles, hesitation, acceptance, cowardice and strength.
❝ Margaret the Churchwoman, her father the Dissenter, Higgins the Infidel, knelt down together. It did them no harm.❞
It is Margaret’s resilience, the humble habit of swallowing her pain, taming her agony and being the rock of her family. I can’t count the times I was furious at her parents for burdening her with the problems that were theirs to deal with. Her father for his inability to make decisions, and her mother for not appreciating her efforts. Margaret was a force to be reckoned with, a combination of thunder and soft waves, a scream in the dark and the chirp of a bird during a sunny day. We should all learn something from Ms. Margaret Hale.
❝ I know you despise me; allow me to say, it is because you do not understand me.❞
It is the social and political aspect. The clash between industrial North and agricultural South. The disgust of the aristocrat towards the nouveau riche. The contempt of the merchant against the soft, indolent aristocrat. The lack of understanding that caused all the suffering. The arguments in favor of the labor movement and the strikes, of people despairing, trying to feed their families, and the arguments in favor of the employer’s right to use the money of the business he built through trials, blood and sweat the way he sees fit. I dangled between the two sides, admiring their tenacity, their belief in the righteousness of their cause. I mourned the losses holding Bessy’s hand and wept at Thornton’s anguish. In the end, North and South is a hymn to humankind. And since Elizabeth Gaskell masterfully depicts the beliefs of both sides of every clash, it is impossible to pick one. So, you take the side of love. The love of an ignorant young woman for a sick girl. Of a mother for her disgraced son. Of a proud man for the woman who can’t hide her distaste of him.
❝ I wanted to see the place where Margaret grew to what she is, even at the worst time of all, when I had no hope of ever calling her mine. ❞
A poem, a lament, a lullaby, a war song, North and South is a literary phenomenon, a sublime novel, a poignant and spirited story which deserves its place amongst classics. ...more
Heists, scorching romance and space rebels, oh my!
The escape to a galaxy far, far away was never more tempting, since the world seems intent on destroHeists, scorching romance and space rebels, oh my!
The escape to a galaxy far, far away was never more tempting, since the world seems intent on destroying itself nowadays. And Amanda Bouchet gives you exactly what you need: adventure, high-stakes missions, strong friendships and a couple to set the universe on fire (I just hope that her story is not prophetic, and that the colonization of other planets and moons is not the only way to get rid of the pandemic).
❝Break into Starbase 12. Bring Reena back to me. She’ll save Demeter Terre, and the Outer Zones will be free again.❞
After the crew of the Endeavor delivered to the rebel ranks the material to create super soldiers, their next quest is not what they expected. A suicide mission to free a brilliant scientist that could tip the scales in favor of the resistance right under the nose of the Overseer? That seems far-fetched, even for them. But Captain Tess Bailey, Galaxy’s Most Wanted, Rebel and Nightchaser, is always up for a challenge. With her faithful crew by her side, her ex-bounty-hunter and space rogue extraordinaire boyfriend supporting her every step, the ever-growing need to dethrone a terrible despot and the help of unexpected allies, she will set on (another) perilous journey, to free, to uncover secrets, to make up for the wrongs committed in the name of peace. And to face the bane of her existence; the man who was supposed to protect her.
The love child of Robin Hood and Star Wars, the sequel to Nightchaser is equally explosive and heart-pounding. Tess and her crew keep you on the edge of your seat, taking risk after risk, scheming, stealing, fighting, trying to heal the wounds, create a future free of oppression and overcome their personal demons. The action is not-stop. The fast pace won’t let you breathe. And the otherworldly chemistry, the crackling tension between Tess and Shade will incinerate what’s left of your brain cells and enhance the consumption of chocolate (as if we needed another reason to devour the contents of our fridges).
❝Quarks latch on to one another. And the harder you try to separate them, the harder they hold on to each other.❞ ❝Are you asking me to be your quark, Shade Ganavan?❞ ❝Baby, you’re my quark and then some.❞
I had a blast reading Starbreaker. You know why? Because it succeeded in the most challenging aspect of storytelling. It didn’t just distract me from reality. It wiped it out. I was so lost in this all-consuming story, in the little heartbreaks and big revelations, the perfect blend of emotion and adrenaline, the dynamics of the crew of the Endeavor, that I ceased to be. I wasn’t Katerina any more. I wasn’t this person that hasn’t left her home for four weeks, that is constantly worried about her family, her relatives, her friends. For these precious moments, I was Tess. Shade. Jax. Fiona. Merrick. Sanaa. I shuddered and shivered, invested in their fates, trying to overcome the anxiety for what their future might bring, that I forgot the anxiety for the glooming situation of my country and the world in general. I just grabbed a Grayhawk and shot my problems to oblivion. It was invigorating.
❝Faith – throughout the eons – is believing without proof. I’d rather have certain beliefs to comfort me when things seem too dark than nothing at all to brighten the horizon.❞
I’m closing with a personal favorite quote that resonated with me, in view of the extraordinary situation we’re living. Despair, terror and panic, they do not help you through the day. But faith, in the doctors, in science, in humanity, in God, is a balm to the soul, and as long as we don’t lose it, all will be good in the end. And I pray and hope that soon we’ll fill the streets, hug our loved ones and appreciate the things we took for granted.
*ARC generously provided by the author in exchange for an honest review*
Note: The quotes used in this review are from an uncorrected text and subject to changes....more