bookshelves of doom

I need more books on my TBR list Iike I need a hole in the head...

Second half of the sentence #1:  ...SO I'm glad to see that I've already read most of these recommendations, including Sunshine, His Majesty's Dragon, the Earthsea books and Eon: Dragoneye Reborn.  I read a good number of the Pern books back in middle school, but the only part of that series I've been interested in revisiting is the Harper Hall trilogy.  I'm sad that she didn't mention Wrede's Enchanted Forest Chronicles, though.

Second half of the sentence #2:  ...BUT what's one more?  After all, it's free.  And a whole pile of people have recommended that I read Charlie Huston.

Chuck Bass = Heathcliff.

Wow, so not only has the Twilight saga made the Brontë books super-popular among the Twihard set*, but now there are at least three movies in the works.

Chuck Bass as Heathcliff, though.  Oh, god.  Does this mean I'll actually GO to the Wuthering Heights movie?

Probably.  And I'll probably find his assiness likable.

I have no shame.

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*Which is, you know, great, except that many of them probably think Heathcliff is a dreamypants dreamboat who looks just like Robert Pattinson's hair, when in actuality, BLECCH WITH A DOUBLE TOPPING OF BLECCCCCH.  Which makes me wonder -- would they swoon over stupid Maxim de Winter, too?  YUCK.  YUUUUUUUCK.

**This footnote isn't actually attached to anything.  Just wanted to share:  Yesterday, I displayed Look For Me By Moonlight on the front desk with a card in it that read, "An antidote to Twilight".  So far, every patron's response has been, "'An antidote to Twilight?'  Why would you need one?"  But I know that someone understanding will come along.  Eventually.

Thumbs up on both counts.

• Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is going to be a miniseries.  If it's done right, I think it could be vastly superior to the book -- while I enjoyed what I read, it never totally grabbed me because it read like The Abridged Edition: WITH NEW ZOMBIE ACTION!! , and so the joke got old and I never actually finished it.  But a movie version could work.  If, as I said, it's done right.
• And in other Quirk Books news, that hilarious Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters trailer (though I'm still not sure why the sea monster is living in a lake...) is going to be screened in movie theaters.  Which I think is a move that is just made of awesome.

ANOTHER ONE??

I really, truly thought that the title of the book had just been changed.  And the cover art.  And the publisher.  And the author.

But, no.  As if one Scarlet Letter sequel wasn't enough.

This turn of events makes me want to punch myself in the face.  Because then maybe I could ignore the heartache.  Ag.  Ag ag ag ag ag.

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Previously:  How NOT to pull me in with your advertising campaign, #24.

Catching up: The Sweetheart of Prosper County -- Jill Alexander;The King's Rose -- Alisa M. Libby;I am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I want to be your Class President -- Josh Lieb

The Sweetheart of Prosper County, by Jill Alexander:

Mostly invisible 15-year-old Austin Gray doesn't want to spend yet another year watching the parade go by.  She doesn't want to stand on the curb being harassed by loser-bullies like jerkface Dean Ottmer -- she wants to be IN the parade, smugly waving at loser-bullies like Dean Ottmer.  So she sets out to be the Future Farmers of America Sweetheart.  Which means she needs to raise an animal.  And then there's that whole hunting requirement as well...

As usual, Feiwel & Friends has done a great job of capturing the essence of a book with their cover art.  Super cute, sweet, funny, quirky, and how could anyone not love a rooster named Charles Dickens?  HOWEVER.  There are so many characters and so many Big Issues that I didn't feel that there was any room to breathe -- everything and everyone was introduced, but there wasn't much depth of character, they didn't really develop, and the issues weren't really explored.  Like I said, cute and sweet, though.

The King's Rose, by Alisa M. Libby:

Although 15-year-old Catherine Howard has been groomed by her family for something far more ambitious than a simple marriage to a nice, rich noble, she is still terrified when she catches the eye of King Henry VIII.  After all, her cousin was Anne Boleyn.  Granted, Catherine knows -- like everyone else -- that her cousin was a witch and that she deserved to die, but... still.  And while being queen will be nice, she'll be an old man's queen -- which will leave no room in her life for romance or for passion.  Or will it?

I really enjoyed this one.  While I never connected emotionally with Catherine (Which I think is due to My Stuff, since, well, why get attached when you know someone isn't going to be around very long?), I found her voice compelling and sympathetic, the political maneuvering fascinating, the descriptions of the period vivid, and the slowly-growing peril felt wonderfully tense and claustrophobic.  All that goodness, and the Author's Note made me appreciate the book all the more -- partly because Libby explained what she'd invented and what she'd based on fact, and because her affection and sympathy for Catherine Howard shone through and affected me, making me feel so sorry for this young girl who was used by everyone around her and who, even in death, was eclipsed by her more flamboyant, fiery cousin.

I am a Genius of Unspeakable Evil and I want to be you Class President, by Josh Lieb:

12-year-old Oliver Watson is so dumb that, on rare occasions, people look at him sideways and wonder, "Is that really possible?  Could ANYONE really be THAT STUPID?"  What no one knows (except a few trusted employees) is the answer to both of those questions (at least in this case) is a big fat NO.  Oliver uses the dumb act to disguise his true Evil Genius self.  From his secret Evil Lair underneath his parents' house, he controls multi-national corporations, politicians, much of the media, and, of course, the teachers at his middle school.  What he wants now, though, is something insignificant, something that should be very easy to accomplish -- he wants to show his despised father up by getting elected class president.  Which, even taking into account his father's annoying PBS-brand idealism and his own carefully-crafted paste-eating persona, will turn out to be his most frustrating Evil Plan yet.

I had mixed feelings on this one.  On the one hand, it was hilarious.  Example?  In one of his many wonderful footnotes, Oliver refers to Machiavelli as "A dead Italian who wrote an early self-help book."  On the other, I felt it fell into the This Book Was Published as a MG/YA Book Because the Protagonist Is Twelve, But Really, It's a Humor Book Mostly For Grown-Ups.  Which is fine.  Because I totally did enjoy it.  And there certainly are middle-schoolers who'll enjoy it (I'll definitely give it to my Artemis Fowl fans).

But, you know.  Oliver, while awesomely, evilly funny, isn't exactly a three-dimensional character -- again, think Artemis Fowl -- and while it makes sense that his musical and literary taste would be more mature than the average twelve-year-old's, I found it odd that his musical and literary taste seemed to be more in tune with someone of my generation or older.  Captain Beefheart?  Really?  Raymond Carver?  Okay.  I could have let that go if there hadn't been a scene featuring a (non-genius) classmate of Oliver's wearing Knight Rider pajamas.  I realize that there was a recent attempt to bring it back, but... yeah.  It tanked so fast that I doubt ANYONE was selling pajamas.  And that just felt sloppy to me.  Or at least supremely unrealistic.  Of course, I may be taking this a tad too seriously as the scene in question also involved our antihero torturing the KITT-loving kid by hanging him up like a marionette and making him dance to Oliver's Guitar Hero moves.

So.  Wicked funny, but not, you know, Raymond Carver.  Not that it was trying to be.

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Book source:  The Alexander, borrowed from my local library; the Libby, ILLed from my local library; the Lieb, review copy from the publisher.  All three books are Cybils nominees.

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I'm part of the Amazon Affiliate program.  Which I'd assume would be apparent by the ad in the sidebar, but assuming that you're bright enough to understand that is not enough for the FTC.  So, I will spell it out:  if you click through to Amazon and buy something, I get money.  Why, you ask? Well, gosh.  How else will I will I ever buy that beautiful dress with the puffed sleeves?

And the National Book Award for Young People's Literature goes to...

...Philip Hoose's Claudette Colvin: Twice Towards Justice.

How NOT to pull me in with your advertising campaign, #24.

This blurb...

"Have you ever closed The Scarlet Letter and yearned to see what the future holds for Hester Prynne and her headstrong daughter Pearl?"

...makes me want to run screaming.  Is the Austen fanfiction not enough?  Must we really be subjected to Hawthorne fanfic, too?? 

OH, THE HUMANITY.

Sky Coyote: The Company, #2 -- Kage Baker

If you're unfamiliar with Dr. Zeus, Inc. and what it does, see this post.

1699.  Facilitator Joseph, who has just spent many years with the Church in various roles -- not the least of which was serving with the Spanish Inquisition -- has been given a new assignment:  to appear to the Chumash people as their trickster god, Sky Coyote, and to convince them to avoid annihilation at the hands of the coming white men -- by leaving their own world forever.

Before even picking it up, I was worried that I wouldn't enjoy Sky Coyote as much as I'd enjoyed In the Garden of Iden.  For one thing, my love for the first book was due in part to Mendoza's voice.  For another, it seemed that the responses to this one were pretty mixed -- some people loved it, others said to skip it.

I'm glad that I didn't.  Because I fell squarely into the LOVE camp.  I think, actually, that I might even prefer Joseph's voice to Mendoza's -- though it might just be that I found his perspective more exciting.  Whatever the reason, poor Josh got an earful while I read this one, and then he got even more of an earful after I'd finished.  Blather city.

Major reason for the love:  Joseph's voice.  He's been around since the very beginning -- his father's cave paintings were some of the earliest works of art that the Company preserved -- and despite his cynicism (in regards to human nature and in regards to the Company) and despite his worries (about his current mission, about Mendoza, about the rapidly approaching future -- a future that he and the other immortals know very little about), his sense of humor remains intact, and his love of noir fiction often sneaks through into his dialogue and his description.

Some people, I think, may be put off by the extremely modern-sounding Chumash, but I loved that style choice -- I attributed it to Joseph's storytelling and to his translation, which made me enjoy it all the more.  But I could see how it would be a bit of a shock, especially when compared to the extremely different stylistic choices made in the first book. 

For me, this one wasn't really about the plot -- I didn't think it really mattered all that much.  Not a whole lot happened, really.  But I was so engrossed that I didn't even really realize that until I'd finished the book.  Because in Sky Coyote, Kage Baker really begins to lay out some of the dark, scary, shadowy aspects of the Company.  And suddenly, the existence of the immortal operatives seems very perilous -- not because of their work in our past, but because of their creators in our future.

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Book source:  ILLed from another library.  Because my library has NO books by Kage Baker.  NONE.  Still.  So now I will ILL #3.

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I'm part of the Amazon Affiliate program.  Which I'd assume would be apparent by the ad in the sidebar, but assuming that you're bright enough to understand that is not enough for the FTC.  So, I will spell it out:  if you click through to Amazon and buy something, I get money.  Why, you ask?  Well, gosh.  How else will I ever hire the Company to bring back the dodo?

Catching up: The Season, by Sarah MacLean

While my TBR piles are still towering over me, the To Be Written About piles are starting to give 'em a run for their money.  So I'm going to do some short responses -- I need to return a pile of them to the library before my co-worker calls me a deadbeat again.

The Season, by Sarah MacLean

This one and I didn't get along.  I was so very excited about it, because:  Regency era!  Romance!  Murder!  Mystery!

But...

I found that the only aspect of the book that suggested that it wasn't set in the modern day to me (other than the descriptions of the clothes and the settings) was that the characters spoke slightly formally.  The main character slouched on a couch (while wearing the dress for her debut), she rolled her eyes at her mother, the banter she exchanged with the menfolk was more akin to stuff I hear from the kids in the library than anything I'd imagine actually coming out of the mouth of a Regency Miss, and while I've read and enjoyed many-a-book starring a Young Lady Who Can Think Of One Million Things She'd Rather Do Than Get Married and read and enjoyed many-a-book starring a Young Lady Who Is More Modern Minded Than Her Times, I just couldn't believe in Lady Alexandra Stafford.  Let alone like her.  And the other characters felt like props.

It is extremely possible that I didn't give this one enough of a chance.  I didn't finish it, because my annoyance level was so very high.  But I am aware that many others loved it, so maybe my inherent crank is causing trouble again.

Huh.  At this rate, I'll be through my pile in no time.

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Book source:  ILLed from my local library.

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I'm part of the Amazon Affiliate program.  Which I'd assume would be apparent by the ad in the sidebar, but assuming that you're bright enough to understand that is not enough for the FTC.  So, I will spell it out:  if you click through to Amazon and buy something, I get money.  Why, you ask? Well, gosh.  How else will I ever fill my swimming pool with gold doubloons?

Cover Yecch.

So I was just leafing through the new Bloomsbury catalog, and I noticed that they changed the Ten Cents a Dance cover from this:

to this:

Now, I was never all that attached to the first cover.  BUT.  At least it evoked the era.  And I felt that the model's profile suggested Ruby's strength of will.

The new one is so generic.  And modern looking.  And it makes it look way more romance-y than the book is, and the palette is so beige.

I vote FAIL.  (But the book is a total WIN.)

You?

In the Garden of Iden: The Company, #1 -- Kage Baker

I'm hugely irritated that I can't remember who recommended this to me or where it caught my eye.  Because Big Thanks are in order.

In the Garden of Iden begins:

I am a botanist.  I will write down the story of my life as an exercise, to provide the illusion of conversation in this place where I am now alone.  It will be a long story, because it was a long road that brought me here, and it led through blazing Spain and green, green England and ever so many centuries of Time.  But you'll understand it best if I begin by telling you what I learned in school.

For me, that was that.  For the next 300 pages, I belonged to Mendoza.  Because, with that first paragraph, I believed in her and she made me want to know everything, everything, everything.

Fast forward to the distant-ish future: 

Dr. Zeus, Inc. semi-successfully figures out immortality.  There are enough drawbacks -- a major one being that it only really works well on children, rather than on "middle-aged millionaires" -- that it isn't a marketable process, but still.

Dr. Zeus, Inc. also figures out time travel.  It isn't particularly marketable, either, because it is only possible to travel to your own past and back again.  And because history cannot be changed.

BUT.  That bit -- the bit about history?  It only applies to recorded history.

Which opens up some serious windows of opportunity.

And now back to 1541-ish, where Mendoza's story begins:

As a nameless, friendless child, she is rescued from the dungeons of the Spanish Inquisition by an agent of The Company.  She is swept away to a secret location in Australia, where she is taught and trained and physically altered:

It wasn't all that different from any particularly demanding boarding school, except that of course nobody ever went home for the holidays and we had a lot of brain surgery. (45)

For the rest of her life -- which will be forever, as she's now immortal -- she will work behind the scenes of history, collecting and preserving plant life for use in the future.

This book is the story of her first mission and of her first love.

Sorry about the ridiculously long description.  I guess I could have just said that it's a SF novel that reads in some ways like historical fiction and in other ways like a coming-of-age story:

"Characterization is very important in the field.  I don't think you've exactly got a handle on that, yet."

"I have too," I said hotly.  "I think I'm portraying a late medieval Spanish adolescent very well."

"No.  You are a late medieval Spanish adolescent.  It's not a role for you, not yet." (145)

And instead of blathering on, I could just have said that it brought Jasper Fforde's Thursday Nextbooks to mind -- not at all in tone or style, mind you -- because it deals with a group of people who work behind the scenes of our world, manipulating things while the majority of us just swan on through our lives, unaware.  I could have just said that it's one of those books in which I loved the ideas and the worldbuilding just as much as the narrative voice and the characters -- and I loved Mendoza's voice and the other characters very much indeed.  (Actually, I did just say all that.)  But I went on and on about the set-up because I just think it's so dang cool. 

So, yes.  Love love love.  Full of heart and full of brains and full of spunk and full of emotion.  (Though I did think that the last fifth-or-so felt really rushed and it very suddenly got way heavy, which made me suspect that some of the Heavy Stuff was a Way of Setting Up Our Heroine's Tragic Past and to give her A Reason to Question Her Situation in Future Installments, but I could be wrong.)  Do not, do not, do not let the atrocious cover (that comes nowhere near suggesting the storyline, let alone the tone of the book) scare you off.

Every time I hear about the rediscovery of a species previously thought long-extinct, I will think of The Company.  And I will wonder.

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Book souce:  ILLed from another library.  Because my library has NO books by Kage Baker.  NONE.  Needless to say, I've put in a request in for the second one.

Philip Pullman may top himself controversy-wise.

Silly me, I didn't know how he could possibly get people more revved up than he did with the His Dark Materials trilogy.

But I was obviously not thinking big enough:  his new book, a re-telling of the life of Jesus that challenges the gospels, will be called The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ. 

But then, maybe since it's a book geared to adults, it won't be controversial.

Maybe.

Oh, who am I kidding?  Philip Pullman can't blow his nose without being controversial.

The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane -- Katherine Howe

Cambridge, Massachusetts: April, 1991.  After successfully passing her qualifying exam, Connie Goodwin plans to spend the summer doing preliminary research for her dissertation.  Those plans go awry when her mother -- a flighty New Age-r, ever self absorbed and Connie's polar opposite -- asks her to spend the summer in the Salem area.  Not for a vacation, oh no.  No, Grace has asked that her daughter drop everything and clean out a house that has stood abandoned for the ten years in which her mother (Connie's grandmother) has been dead. 

Not just a little bit abandoned:  we're talking giant-mushrooms-growing-in-the-hallway abandoned.

Being a bit of a martyr when it comes to her mother as well as at a loss about her dissertation topic, Connie says yes.

Early on in the cleaning, she finds a key in an old Bible.  Within the key is a fragment of parchment that reads:  Deliverance Dane.  That discovery sets Connie on a quest for an as-yet-unstudied primary source about the Salem Witch Trials.  But it isn't just a simple academic search (or as simple as a search like that could be).  More and more often, Connie sees things that no one else seems to see -- glimpses flashes of the past -- and she isn't sure if she's losing her mind or if maybe there's more to the world than her logical historian self is ready to handle.

In The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, chapters about Connie's present alternate with chapters about Deliverance's, and then, as Connie's search progresses, with Deliverance's descendants.  I found it a compelling read, even resorting to Ye Olde Flashlight Under the Blanket to finish it.

I've seen a few complaints about it.  Some people, expecting straight historical fiction, were disappointed with the fantasy element that was introduced halfway through.  To that, I respond thusly:  There is a blurb on the front cover that says "A gripping supernatural puzzler".  That's about as up-front as you can get without spoilers -- I really don't think there was a bait-and-switch going on. 

I've seen complaints about the amount of description of clothing and furniture in the historical passages -- some people felt that Katherine Howe was shoe-horning her research into her novel.  I didn't get that feeling.  The details felt natural to me, and I felt that the historical passages actually worked better than the chapters about Connie.  It was during Connie's research that I felt the use of the shoehorn.  That was where I started picturing the author instead of the character.  But all of that, I think, is just a matter of taste.

For me, the historical chapters were much stronger than the contemporary ones -- and it was mostly because of the heroine.  Connie falls into one of the more frustrating categories of protagonist:  the supposedly super-smart person who remains clueless hundreds of pages after the reader has figured everything out.  Like, not being sure of who the villain is until he is LITERALLY standing right in front of her, confessing.  Or her inability to make the really obvious leap about Deliverance's line of descent.  It's hard to take someone seriously as having a huge brain when she acts really, really dumb.  I do think that a good part of her blindness was in character -- she ignored her instincts, and gave her gut little merit -- but knowing that didn't make her any less frustrating.

Like other readers, I was bothered by the (I felt) excessive use of dialect in both time periods.  I think much (not all -- in some cases, I really did feel that it was over-the-top) of that feeling is probably also a personal issue -- but it did detract from my enjoyment of the book overall.  And there were some broad generalizations about New Englanders (which, if I'm going to be truthful, were pretty accurate) that chafed.  But that could be chalked up to the uncomfortable feeling most people would get while reading an anthropological description of their own culture.

So.  This was one of those odd reads that I enjoyed more while I was reading than I did upon reflection.  That said, though, if she writes another one, I'll give it a try.

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Book source:  My local library.

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I read this for the R.I.P. IV challenge.

Cut to the Quick: Julian Kestrel Mysteries, #1 -- Kate Ross

From Cut to the Quick:

Julian Kestrel had first appeared in London society a year or two ago, and hardly anything was known about him, though he was said to be related in some dubious way to a landed family in the north.  If he had been anything but a dandy, such vagueness about his pedigree would have been fatal, but of course the most spectacular of the dandies were absolved from Society's usual inquisition into breeding and birth.

Really, I don't know why you'd need more than that.  I mean, if I were you, I'd have already heaved myself out of my chair and headed out to grab a copy.

Buuut if you do need more:  After rescuing young Hugh Fontclair from a tight spot in a gaming hell, Julian Kestrel is invited be the best man at Fontclair's wedding.  Which is odd, because before the rescue, the two had never even exchanged pleasantries.

Julian accepts the invitation and, with Dipper (his ex-pickpocket valet, because OF COURSE his valet is an ex-pickpocket) in tow, he wanders down to stay at Bellegarde, where he discovers that the pre-wedding atmosphere is anything but comfortable.  The two families about to be united by holy matrimony and wedded bliss hate each other so very much that they find it difficult to even spend time in the same room.

So it almost isn't even that surprising when a murder occurs.

Cut to the Quick is the first book in the Julian Kestrel series -- a series that I've been meaning to read forever and ever, but that I kept putting off because I was pretty sure I'd fall in love and then be bereft when I finished the last of the four.  (The author died in 1998.)

So, you know.  I'd been avoiding future literary misery.

But, you know.  I had to put an end to my years of procrastination and start myself down the road to depression SOMETIME.

After reading Book One, I'm pretty durned sure that I'm going to be seriously depressed when I'm done.  Because, wow.  Love Julian Kestrel.  Love love love. 

Like Peter Wimsey, people tend to underestimate him because he's a dandy and because he's comfortable letting people underestimate him.  But he's just wonderful in every way, as 11-year-old Philippa quickly learns:

"If everyone who died with unpunished sins on his conscience came back as a ghost, the living would be crowded out of ever house in England."

"You're cynical.  I thought you would be.  Can you sneer?"

"With terrifying effect."

"Oh, do it, please!  I want to see it!"

"I'm afraid you're much too young to withstand it.  I should be accused of stunting your growth--perhaps ever sending you into a decline."

"I wouldn't go into a decline.  I'm robust.  My governess says so.  But, come along, I mustn't make you late to dinner."

Sadly, she didn't end up appearing in much of the book, but I highly, highly, HIGHLY recommend it to those of you who like the Regency era, historical mysteries, Dorothy Sayers, Georgette Heyer, etc., etc., etc.  It's got great characters, setting, dialogue, clothing descriptions, and it's a really decent whodunnit.  While I correctly identified the murderer very early on, I had no idea what the motive was, and there were a million-and-six very reasonable red herrings. 

In a nutshell: HOO-FREAKING-RAY, this book is made of awesome!

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Book source:  ILL, because my local library doesn't have this series, GRRR!

I stayed up too late...

...finishing (flashlight and all!) The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane.  While I had some issues with it, I couldn't put it down.

So I'm hoping to post later.

If not, see you tomorrow.

Assuming I don't get caught up in something else...

Leviathan trailer.

Oh, wow.

This book has Josh written all over it:

Prophecy of the Sisters -- Michelle Zink

New York State, 1890.  Lia is aware that she and her twin sister, Alice, have never been particularly close.  But it isn't until after being orphaned by the sudden death of their father that Lia realizes their relationship is actually less complicated than that:  they are enemies.

Because of a centuries-old prophecy, they will stand on opposite sides of a battle for the world itself -- if, that is, Lia is able to figure out what the prophecy of the sisters actually entails, and what part she is supposed to play in it...

From Prophecy of the Sisters:

...I have reasons of my own for wanting to know more.

It cannot be chance alone that Father was found dead on the floor of the Dark Room, or that shortly thereafter I discovered the mark, observed my sister in her eerie ritual, and was given this strange, lost book.  I cannot be sure what it all means or how these events work in concert, but I'm certain they do.

To put it simply, I found this book frustrating. 

To expand on that:  On the one hand, I very much enjoyed the setting -- while the year, 1890, placed us at the tail end of the Victorian Era (like many other paranormal historicals), the author set this one in the United States, which made it feel fresh.  There were some really genuinely classic Gothic creepy moments, a wonderfully thrilling and suspenseful showdown scene at the riverfront, and, while the idea of an Object of Evil Returning Again and Again Despite the Heroine's Attempts to Rid Herself Of It is not a new one, Lia's experiences with the medallion were, I thought, very effective.  And, though Alice didn't get much screen time, on occasion, small details about her behavior gave me the screaming willies:

"Miss Gray would not approve."  Alice's voice greets me as I close the door, but it is not the new, hard Alice I have come to watch with guarded eyes.  Her voice is playful, her figure a dim outline on the stairs.  She sits carelessly on the steps, leaning her body back to rest on her elbows.

It's the image in my mind of this supposedly proper Gilded Age rich girl lolling on the steps -- it seems wrong in every way, and so, to me, suggested that Alice might be losing her humanity.  (It's possible that I read far too much into that passage, but that's where I went with it!)

My frustrations lay in a few places.  While I understand that Lia's search for the truth of her situation and her investigation into the prophecy were both major elements of the plotting and necessitated a decent amount of explanation, I did feel that the characters spent an inordinate amount of time discussing said subjects.  And that that many of the conversations in which Lia and the others try unravel the mysteries often felt unrealistic and like they were supposed to be informing the reader, rather than like they were actually talking to each other.  (Does that make sense?  Basically, I felt like there was a lot of expository dialogue.)

I also felt, maybe because of my problems with the dialogue, that I never got to know the characters, and that I was told things about them, rather than shown:

Sonia rises, holding her fingertips to her brow in frustration.  "Even if we have all the keys, we do not know how to end the prophecy."

I meet Luisa's gaze from across the room.  We are accustomed to Sonia's calm demeanor.  Neither of us knows what to say in the face of her unexpected despair.

I used that passage to illustrate the tell/show issue, because, well, if Lia hadn't told me that Sonia was despairing, there's no way I'd have picked up on it.

There was also a plot point that hinged on an "old Druid text" that happens to be located in the local library's hidden collection on sorcery -- and, totally overlooking the mostly-unknown three-story collection of books on sorcery in a random upper New York State library -- I was always under the impression that the Druids were an oral culture.  But I don't know much about the subject, and I certainly could be wrong.  It just jumped out at me as sounding off.  But hey, maybe I'm the one who's off.

I did feel, right towards the end -- due to the showdown I mentioned, and to the increased number of interactions between Lia and Alice -- more invested in the story.  But then, when I realized that I was going to get no satisfaction -- that this is the first in a series -- I literally shrieked.

So.  While there were certainly some positives, for me, they didn't counteract my frustrations.  I do think that if you're a fan of the Libba Bray's Gemma Doyle trilogy, you should definitely give this one a try at some point -- while I'm all issue-ridden, Prophecy of the Sisters did get a starred review from Booklist and rave reviews all over the blogosphere.

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Book source:  My local library.

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I read this for the R.I.P. IV challenge.

What I Saw and How I Lied -- Judy Blundell

So, hideously late -- months and months after everyone else, I'm sure -- I finally got around to reading What I Saw and How I Lied, the 2008 National Book Award Winner for Young People's Literature.

From the second chapter:

It was 1947, and the war was over.  Now there was music on every radio, and everybody wanted a new car.  Nobody had a new car during the war -- they weren't even making them -- and nobody took pictures, because there wasn't any film.  One thing about a war?  You never have new.

But now our fathers and brothers and cousins were home, and our Victory Gardens had been turned back into lawns, because now we could buy not only want we needed but what we wanted, vegetables and coffee and creamy butter.  Cameras and cars, and brand-new washing machines, even.  Appliances were the reason my stepfather was getting rich.

We were lucky enough to live in Queens, where you could put a nickel in a turnstile and ride the subway to Manhattan, the place where everybody in the world wanted to be.  They left the lights burning in the skyscrapers all night long, because now they could.

I hadn't meant to quote quite that much, but Evie Spooner's voice has a way of doing that -- you start reading and just don't want to -- can't -- stop.  And I had to include that last paragraph -- even though very little of the book actually takes place in New York, those few pages read like a love letter to the city.  I'm very much a rural lady, but this book made me itch to drive a few hours south, if only for a weekend.  The scenes in Florida felt different.  No less real, but in my mind's eye movie (don't you get those when you read?), the two settings had entirely different lenses and filters.  I think it'll take a re-read to figure that one out.

Evie Spooner's story is a coming-of-age story.  Like a lot of coming-of-age stories, there is a tragedy.  Like a lot of coming-of-age stories, there is a first love.  Like a lot of coming-of-age stories, our heroine learns that the adults in her life are not the shining stars she has always believed them to be.  There are lies, there is betrayal, there is injustice, and Evie sees it all.  Heck, as the title suggests, she participates in some of it. 

I'm deliberately being vague -- the story itself is a simple one, and an old one, but I think it's better to get it from Evie.  Because it's her voice that makes this book a special one. 

It isn't the only thing that's special.  The book -- and Evie -- evoke the romance of the era, but also the ugliness of it.  It's a hard thing to reconcile.

The strange thing?  I never connected emotionally with the book.  It may have been the noir feel, it may have been that Evie kept me at arm's length, it may have been a combination of the two along with something else I haven't identified.  The even stranger thing?  It wasn't an issue.  I never wanted to put it down, I never felt frustrated with the distance, the characters never felt unreal to me.  Somehow, the emotional distance felt right. 

It allowed me to wonder.  It allowed me to wonder about how much Evie was keeping back.  About when she actually knew things, whether she was ready to admit them or not.  Unanswered questions can be frustrating, sure, but in this case, they made the book feel bigger, richer, more real.  And those unanswered questions would allow for a great discussion in a book group.  If I ever get around to starting a Teen Books for Adult Readers book group at the library, this'll be on the shortlist.

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Book source:  My local library.

And Only to Deceive -- Tasha Alexander

When Emily accepted the proposal of the dashing (and rich) Viscount Philip Ashton, it wasn't for any of the usual reasons.  Not for his money or his title, and certainly not because she loved him.  It was to escape her domineering mother.

So, when Philip died on safari shortly after the wedding, Emily was less distraught than one would expect.  After all, though she had had some nice moments with Philip, she hardly even knew him. 

She has to act the grieving widow for society -- but secretly, widowhood agrees with Emily.  She has much more freedom than she ever would have as a wife, and she has much more freedom than she ever did have as a daughter.

As she comes to the end of her mourning period, though, she begins reading her husband's recently-unearthed journals.  Not only does she discover that there was much more to her husband than she'd previously believed -- not to mention the fact that he was truly, deeply in love with her -- but she also uncovers a mystery.  One that, if explored too deeply, may put her own life in danger...

One of my very favorite things about And Only to Deceive was that Emily exhibited actual development of character.  Rather than an Unusual Upbringing Resulting In A Heroine With Semi-Modern Sensibilities (a la Lady Julia Grey and Amelia Peabody*), Emily explores her new-found freedom slowly and tentatively, and (almost) always remembers to keep Society's Opinion in mind.  That isn't to say that she doesn't make some mistakes -- a bit of freedom to someone unused to it can make for a bit of recklessness.

Add to that a love story with a dead (or is he?) man, a couple of swoony moments with a live man, a discovery and exploration of classic literature and archeology on the part of our heroine, and a rather xenophobic lady's maid, and the result is an enjoyable romantic mystery.

I was a bit disappointed with Emily's inability to spot the villain from a mile away -- after all, she's supposed to be very bright, as well as a great reader of popular novels, so she really should have pegged him from Minute One -- but I can't fault her for much else.  After all, there were plenty of pieces of the puzzle that I wasn't sure about until I was quite close to the end.  I'll pick up Book Two soon.

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*That is NOT to suggest that I don't adore Lady Julia and Mrs. Emerson with all of my heart.  Because I do love them.

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Book source:  Bought with money earned from the sweat of my brow.

Mistress of the Art of Death -- Ariana Franklin

England, 1170.  After the Catholics of Cambridge turn into a riotous mob because they believe that the Jews are to blame for the particularly horrific murder of a child, Henry II finds himself in a bit of a bind.  As all of the Cambridge Jews are now living in Cambridge castle (for protection), he's losing much needed tax revenue.  Also, it's clear that they are innocent.

So he contacts the King of Sicily, and asks for a "master of the art of death".

And the King of Sicily complies.  Sort of.  He sends Simon, an investigatory genius -- who happens to be Jewish; Mansur, a Saracen castrato; and Vesuvia Adelia Rachel Ortese Aguilar, a Mistress of the Art of Death.

Of course, in England, publicly admitting to being a female doctor is an impossibility.  So the three companions set up shop in Cambridge, with Mansur standing in as the doctor and Adelia as his translator and assistant.  And the investigation begins.

Well, I'm in love.  After finishing this one, I pulled Ye Olde Babble at the library.  Patrons had to listen to me yap on at length about how much I loved it and about how now I was all curious about Henry II and about the medical school at Salerno and about how if the library didn't get Ariana Franklin's other books, I was JUST. GOING. TO. DIE*.

The writing was lovely and evoked especially vivid images in my mind (though not always pretty ones), and it brought me to another time and place.  Adelia's status and perspective as an outsider in England allowed for plenty of musing on the culture of the time -- she noticed and thought about things that a Cambridge native probably would have taken for granted, and that, I think, added to the richness of the description and world building.  I cared about the characters very much, and found that even most of the secondary characters became real to me, the plotting surprised me again and again, and for me, best of all, I was really, really emotionally invested -- there was one specific section that had me deliriously happy until Something Bad Happened.  And I said, "Oh."  (Out loud, though I was alone in the house).  And then I had to put the book down, get up, drink a glass of water and compose myself.  Only then could I dive back in.

So thanks so much to Elizabeth and Arlene for the recommendation.  Good lord.  I totally owe the two of you a whoopie pie** or something.

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*The director ordered them.  Possibly just to shut me up, but I'm not going to complain.  Because A) I'm not big on complaining and B) gift horses.

**In college, I discovered that there are many people who don't know what whoopie pies are.  Which is just wrong.  And sad.

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Book source:  My local library.

Speaking of adults reading YA...

...I've had good results using the fantabulous Bog Child as a crossover read -- and it just won the Carnegie medal*, so I have yet another excuse to display it.

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*Making Siobhan Dowd the first person to win it posthumously.

Seeking recommendations of...

...witty historical fiction romantic suspense/thriller/mysteries a la Elizabeth Peters and Deanna Raybourn. 

I picked up an Amanda Quick yesterday, and while I'm finding it entertaining*, it's chock-full of ridiculously unbelievable infodump dialogue along these lines:  "As we both know... blah blah blah here's some information that the author needs to convey to the reader blah blah". 

So annoying.  Help me out, eh?

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*Yowzer.  The main characters boinked almost immediately.  And then the lady thought the guy died in a fire so she pretended that she was his widow so that it would be easier for her to start her own business but of course he wasn't really dead so he went to a gossip columnist and was all, "IT'S A MIRACLE, I'M ALIVE!  THE AMNESIA I GOT IN THE WILD WEST IS GONE AND I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE MY WIFE AGAIN!"  And now he's living in her attic because he's worried that a thief who is after some old alchemy artifacts will come after her!!!

I assume you understand why I've continued reading despite my issues with the writing.

Friday's Child -- Georgette Heyer

After being turned down by the Incomparable Isabella, the young Lord Sherington needs to take action.  It isn't so much that he's heartbroken (because he isn't, despite the fact that the Incomparable is, well, Incomparable and every eligible young man of means (and some without) have been throwing themselves at her feet all season) -- it's that if he doesn't marry, he can't take control of his fortune until his twenty-fifth birthday.  And he needs to deal with his gambling debts now.

So, when he finds his childhood friend Hero crying on a rock wall, trying to decide between two unbearable futures (becoming a governess or marrying the local curate), he quickly decides on a plan of action:  and before either of them stops to think -- Hero because she's loved Sherry forever though he's never seen her as anything but the little girl next door, or Sherry, just because he's an ass -- they've run off to London and got married.

Sherry had planned to go on living his life as he had been -- this is, after all, a marriage of convenience.  But due to Hero's lack of experience in society and Sherry's neglect, his young wife gets into one difficult situation after another.  Sherry begins to understand that life may never be the same -- but will he realize that he doesn't want it to be? 

I had to look up that old Monday's Child rhyme to find the meaning of Friday's Child.  (All I could remember previously was that Saturday was something about work.)  The title is, of course, totally fitting -- the line is "Friday's child is loving and giving".

I loved this one.  My poor co-workers can attest to the fact that it made me laugh out loud, because they not only had to put up with my giggling self during multiple lunch breaks, but they had to put up with me reading passages aloud.  Whether they wanted to hear them or not.  Like this one:

'Look at it which way you like, it don't make sense.  For one thing, a hero ain't a female, and for another it ain't a name.  At least,' he added cautiously, 'it ain't one I've ever heard of.  Ten to one you've made one of your muffs, Sherry!'

'Oh no, I truly am called Hero!' the lady assured him.  'It's out of Shakespeare.'

'Oh, out of Shakespeare, is it?' said Ferdy. 'That accounts for my not having heard it before!'

'You're out of Shakespeare too,' said Hero, helping herself liberally from a dish of green peas.

'I am?' Ferdy exclaimed, much struck.

'Yes, in the Tempest, I think.'

'Well, if that don't beat all!' Ferdy said, looking around at his friends.  'She says I'm out of Shakespeare!  Must tell my father that.  Shouldn't think he knows.'

'Yes, and now I come to think of it, Sherry's out of Shakespeare too,' said Hero, smiling warmly upon her spouse.

'No, I'm not,' replied the Viscount, refusing to be dragged into these deep waters.  'Named after my grandfather.'

Like I said, I loved this one.  Seeing Sherry grow from a selfish (if likable) ass into a worried mother hen into a loving husband would have been pleasure enough, but Hero herself was also a joy -- she's an innocent, and she's certainly starry-eyed when it comes to Sherry, but she's never insipid.  She does have a temper.  And she does have an inner strength.  She's someone who the others can't help but love and feel protective of, and I felt the same way about her.  While a lot of the book made me laugh out loud, there were other bits that had me so enraged with Sherry that I had tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. 

I do tend to get a bit involved.

Along with the writing, the storyline, the pacing (except for the situation that wrapped everything up -- that all seemed a bit too over-the-top and rushed considering the rest of the book), the secondary characters -- especially Sherry's stable of friends -- are also wonderful.  I wish Heyer had written books about them as well.

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Previously:

The Talisman Ring
The Grand Sophy
The Quiet Gentleman

The Alastair Trilogy
1.  These Old Shades
2.  The Devil's Cub
3.  An Infamous Army -- The characters in Regency Buck are major players in this one, but Regency Buck comes first.  I read them out of order, sadly.

Connected to The Alastair Trilogy:

Regency Buck -- See An Infamous Army above.
The Black Moth -- This was Heyer's first novel.  She later revisited the same characters (but with different names) in These Old Shades.

Lost in Austen.

After reading Liz B.'s reaction to Lost in Austen, I bumped it to the top of our Netflix* queue.

There was a bit of grumbling from Joshua, but as he was still in the doghouse for that whole Nellie Oleson thing, I paid him no heed.

It's about a modern day Austen-o-phile who, due to a magic door that leads from her bathroom to the servants' quarters at Longbourn, switches places with Elizabeth Bennet.

I LOVED IT**.  It made me guffaw (again and again) in a very nerdly manner.  I loved the casting, and I loved that it WASN'T Pride and Prejudice.  Same characters, but with lots of little differences, and a totally different story.  Amanda tries and tries to make the story go in what she thinks is the right direction, but it all keeps blowing up in her face.  It was lovely and funny and CUTE, and I watched the whole three hours in one go.

Must buy a copy of my very own.

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*Speaking of, have you noticed that Faerie Tale Theatre is available through the Netflix Watch Now thingie?  We watched Aladdin last night.  Yay.

**And Josh asked me to pause it when he had to leave the room, so he liked it too, no matter how much he might protest.

Tanita's book has launched.

Go!  Win a copy!

The Wild Girls -- Pat Murphy Read for the 4th Annual 48-Hour Book Challenge.

I've been meaning to read Wild Girls since it came out -- I remember that People I Trust loved it, and that there was a minor kerfuffle about a mediocre review somewhere and I remember putting it on my list.  Then my library never bought it and I promptly forgot about it.  (The dangers of a much-too-long TBR list.)

Yesterday, as I was checking an ILL in, I realized that I held it in my hands.  It was already overdue, but the ILL delivery had already gone out, so the earliest it could go back would be on Tuesday, so OBVIOUSLY it was meant to be. 

None of that has anything to do with the book.  But Wild Girls kind of messed me up, so I'm postponing what I suspect will be a big ramble by, um, rambling.

It's about two girls.  It begins:

I met the Queen of the Foxes in 1972, when my family moved from Connecticut to California.

The narrator is Joan.  The Queen of the Foxes is Sarah, or as she calls herself, Fox.  It's set in 1972, as you may have deduced, and while there aren't a bunch of unnecessary details To Let The Reader Know It's The 70s, it feels very seventies.  Which is cool.

For some reason, I can't really do the synopsis thing here.  I think it's because, as I said, it messed me up.  In terms of actual plot, actual happenings, it's a very simple story, and Pat Murphy uses very clear and simple language to tell it. 

Beyond and beneath that simple plot, it's also a story about families falling apart, about families tearing themselves apart, about people losing themselves and finding themselves again, about finding ways of figuring life out and creating family.  It's about, as Joan would say, the subtext.  And it's about writing.  And the whole book rings clear and true.  Regardless of whether it's fiction or not, it's one that rings so true that I'm getting all choked up again.  I believed in the girls, and I believed in the parents, and while Joan and Fox were the focus, the adult characters were so real that this book could have been about them instead. 

It's one I wish I'd had in fifth grade.

Heck, I wish I'd had it in college.

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Previous Challenge Books:

The Name of the Game Was Murder
Bloody Jack

Bloody Jack: Mary "Jacky" Faber, Book #1 -- L. A. Meyer Read for the 4th Annual 48-Hour Book Challenge.

When Mary Faber was eight years old, she lost her family to sickness.  For the next four years -- she reckons, give or take -- she lived on the streets of London with a small gang of orphans, begging and stealing to survive.  When her maybe-future-sweetheart is murdered in an alley, she makes sure that her surrogate family is provided for, cuts her hair off, changes her name to Jack and goes to sea.

Life as a ship's boy on the Dolphin can be hard -- the work, dealing with the crew and the officers and the other ship's boys, all of it -- but it's also the first time in years that Jacky hasn't had to worry about where her next meal will come from.  Now she just has to be sure that no-one discovers her secret -- if it comes out, she knows she'll be dropped off at the nearest port, marooned on a deserted island or much worse, hanged.

Yes, yes.  I know.  I can't believe I'm only just now getting to Bloody Jack, either.  I felt that the romance in the middle slowed it down quite a bit, and that the ending was somewhat abrupt*, but other than that... well.  Let's just say I'm kicking myself for not having grabbed the whole series when I was at the library yesterday.

It was her voice that did it -- Jacky won me over completely and immediately.  I liked that she wasn't perfect, that she liked to wind people up and that she was a bit of a show-off; I loved that she didn't fall into the super-tomboy-tough-girl-adventurer character-type, that she was not a fighter, she didn't turn her nose up at "girl stuff", that she was quick to tears and that she rather reveled in being found attractive as a girl while still understanding the drawbacks of being a woman in her world.  I believed in her.

I loved this passage about her bout with sea-sickness:

The next day the wind and seas gets even rougher and the boat adds some new moves in its dance through the waves, which are now like mountains, and we goes up and down and now sideways and over and I don't get up for three days, 'cept to crawl to the head to spew up the vile juice in me gut through one of the holes, then I crawls back to the kip and gets sick again but this time I don't make it to the head and I had to clean it up, which makes me sicker yet.  I'm makin' me usual deals with God and hopes that Jesus will come take me in His lovin' arms, but once again He don't come and on the next day Jaimy brings me some food and I eats it and keeps it down, and on the next day I am up and I never gets seasick again.

It made me feel ill, just sitting here in my chair.  It's a good thing I wasn't reading in the car.  Oh, and the conversation the boys have about Jesus and His tattoos -- for that bit ALONE, the book would be worth reading.  I howled.  So, so, funny.  And, conversely (in that it wasn't at all funny) but similarly (in that it, alone, would make the whole book worthwhile) is the scene where Jacky is first called Bloody Jack.  But the book is worth reading for many more reasons than those two.  The major one being, as I said, Jacky herself.

I really want to know what happens next.  Grrr.

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*I realize that there are a bazillion more in the series, but it wasn't so much what happened and where it left Jacky as it was how fast it happened. 

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Previous Challenge Books:

The Name of the Game Was Murder

Another book I need to read.

Because it sounds so cute, even though I've been feeling paranormalled-out.  And the series is called The Parasol Protectorate!  And because judging by her blog, the author is cool.  (Her most recent blog entry is about mourning jewelry -- sometimes it's pretty darned easy to win me over.)

Emily Climbs: Emily Byrd Starr, #2 -- L. M. Montgomery

Leave it to L. M. Montgomery herself to explain why I love her -- and her creations -- so very much:

It was not, of course, a proper thing to do.  But then I have never pretended, nor ever will pretend, that Emily was a proper child.  Books are not written about proper children.  They would be so dull nobody would read them.

All of her friends are going away to Shrewsbury High School, and it looks like she's going to be left behind at New Moon.  But then she makes a difficult and heart-breaking deal with Aunt Elizabeth -- Emily will be allowed to go to school for three years if she vows to write no fiction at all during that time.

Emily Climbs follows our Miss Starr as she grows up (from almost-fourteen to seventeen) and begins to find her place in the world.  As you'd expect from a Montgomery heroine, she gets into scrape after scrape; despairs on occasion but always eventually throws her shoulders back, dusts herself off and tries again; is hounded by unfair gossip; discovers romance; saves at least one small child; and is occasionally is aided by the most unlikely people.  And as you'd expect from a Montgomery heroine, ultimately, she triumphs over all adversity.

Just like last time, I dog-eared practically the whole book.  Which of course, ended up being less-than-helpful.  But, for me, some of the highlights:

• Emily's musings on words and writing:  "Big words are never beautiful--'incriminating'--'obstreperous'--'international'--'unconstitutional'.  They make me think of those horrible big dahlias and chrysanthemums Cousin Jimmy took me to see at the exhibition in Charlottetown last fall."

• Her three-page diary entry refuting a city slicker's claim that nothing ever happens in Blair Water: "...Elder McCloskey, who thought it wouldn't do to say 'pants' in a story he was telling about a missionary, at prayer-meeting, so always said politely 'the clothes of his lower parts'..."

• The narrator's voice -- I quoted a bit earlier, but there are many other asides to the reader ("Remember that I am only Emily's biographer, not her apologist."), and I loved them all.

• Emily's adventures (of course), which I will not list because if you've read it, you'll remember and if you haven't, you should. 

• The fact that I came around about Teddy very early on.  I was so surprised by my abrupt emotional about-face, but there it is.  I rather love him now.  He and Emily totally belong together.  As do Ilse and Perry.  And I will be Very Put Out if it doesn't All Work Out.  I continue to be completely skeeved out by Dean.  AND HE'S A JERK ABOUT EMILY'S WRITING, ALL CONDESCENDING AND NOT WANTING HER TO SUCCEED.  I hadn't thought about it much until now, but I rather hate him.  Hence my use of the Caps Lock key.  Sorry about that.

• The Cousin Andrew plotline.

• OH MY GOD EMILY'S INADVERTENT EAVESDROPPING ON MRS. ANN CYRILLA AND MISS BEULAH POTTER!!!  I ALMOST DIED LAUGHING.  (Do you think LMM left the 'e' off of Mrs. Cyrilla's name because she's so horrible?)

• Emily and Aunt Ruth's relationship.

• Everything about the Perry and Emily alone at night misunderstanding, the Emily kissing a man on the street misunderstanding, and every other misunderstanding (and there are many) and embarrassment she endures.  Poor girl.  I certainly cringed with her, but never so much that I stopped enjoying myself.  I guess that this all falls under "Emily's adventures", but there are so many that it's worth mentioning twice.

• Horrible Evelyn Blake and the fact that Emily can be very catty.  "Evelyn is wearing her hair in the new pompadour style this year and I think it is very unbecoming to her.  But then, of course, the only part of Evelyn's anatomy I like is her back."

• The fact that Emily is a snob.  And that Ilse calls Emily on it.

• Emily's reason for feeling sorry for Evelyn Blake's failed exams.

• Miss Royal's interview.  I died.  Many times over.  Seriously.

• The beautiful parallel bits at the beginning and end:  Emily's first inkling of her feelings for Teddy early on in the graveyard, and her more breathtaking and so-gorgeous-it-hurts realization during the blizzard of just how much her feelings for him have deepened.  I love Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe, but nothing in their courtship -- not even the night that Anne thinks Gil is going to die -- touches this. 

I just requested a copy of Book #3 via BookMooch, but it'll be a while before it gets here.  Sad.

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Previously:

1. Emily of New Moon

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I read this book for the L. M. Montgomery mini-challenge.  My challenge post is here.

The Killing Way: An Arthurian Mystery -- Tony Hays

I'm feeling a teensy bit paranormalled out, so I've decided to add more grown-up mysteries to my reading diet.

When a young woman is brutally murdered and left at Merlin's door, Arthur is put in a delicate situation.  Despite the evidence, he knows (or is 99.47% sure) that Merlin is innocent.  But if he doesn't investigate that angle of the mystery fully, he will lose the trust of the people as well as his reputation for honesty -- which would be disaster, as the murder just so happens to have coincided with a gathering of all Britain's leaders to elect a new Rigotamos.

So he goes to Malgwyn.  Who hates him.  Now, Malgwyn hadn't always hated Arthur.  Once, he was even in his inner circle.  They fought the Saxons together, rode together, were friends.  But then Malgwyn lost his sword arm in battle, and rather than let him die, Arthur saved his life.  Malgwyn has never forgiven him.  Better to die on the battlefield than live as half a man.

Despite his hatred of Arthur, Malgwyn is intrigued by the mystery behind the crime -- and soon finds himself involved in a tangle of politics, religion, family, love triangles, betrayal and, of course, murder.

I had mixed feelings about The Killing Way.  On the one hand, I especially enjoyed the historical part of it -- I felt that the author did a great job of writing about the time, of introducing me to an era* I know very little about without ever letting the prose feel like he was trying to jam facts in there.  It flowed.  I felt transported.  And I liked Tony Hays' take on Arthur & Co., a vision of a man rather than a Legend.

My frustrations lay with the voice.  Malgywn had a problem with repetition.  (Or, to be more fair, I had a problem with Malgywn's tendancy towards repetition.)  He told me things again and again and again -- about his hatred for Arthur, his hatred of the Saxons, his status as half-a-man, his love of his dead wife, etc.  Towards the middle of the book, I started talking back to him:  "Malgywn, I KNOW."  "Malgywn, YES."  "Malgywn, MOVE ON."  I don't have an issue with the hard-drinking-with-a-painful-past archetype, but I also don't need the character to constantly be reminding me about WHY he is the way he is.

My other major issue was more of a personal taste thing -- lines like:

"Go to your homes!" Arthur commanded, his shoulder-length hair flying in the breeze.

were not few and far between.  Which isn't so much my thing.  But because of the things I liked about the book, I'm going to keep an eye out for the next one.

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*410-600 CE.  Ish.

Envy: The Luxe Novels, #3 -- Anna Godbersen

So, in Envy (spoilers ahead if you haven't read the first two books):

Since Penelope blackmailed Henry into marrying her by threatening to reveal her knowledge about Henry and Diana getting horizontal, he's spent most of his waking hours trying to drink himself into oblivion and the marriage has not been consummated because he hates her and sleeps on the couch, a fact that is unknown to Diana because she has burned every single letter he's sent to her since the wedding and because Penelope has been sure that he Keeps Up Appearances in public.  Elizabeth's very brief marriage to her True Love the stable boy Will Keller was lovely, but her period of mourning is difficult not only because hello, she's grieving, but also because the marriage was a secret and No One Can Know About It or The Family Will Be Ruined.  Her grief has also been affecting her ability to keep food down.  And Lina is continuing to claw her way to the top of the social ladder.  

So, the whole crew of non-friends heads down to Florida for a vacation where trysts are had, Elizabeth suffers from motion sickness on the train, Teddy makes laser beam eyes of love at Elizabeth, Diana and Henry make laser beam eyes of love at each other and Penelope makes laser beam eyes of death at both of them, Diana keeps losing her shoes, there is sea-bathing, much liquor is tossed back, money is gambled, secrets are found out and Life-Changing Decisions Are Made.

This is another series that I can't help reading, even though there's no logical reason for me to continue.  Not because of the writing, like that other *cohouseofnightugh* series I can't stop reading, though I do think that they could be edited down a tad*.  It's that, minus the amazing twist at the end of the second book, I've never been really surprised by anything that's happened.  And that, unless something way crazy happens in the next (and last) book, everything's so clearly going in a certain direction that it might as well all be wrapped up in my mind. 

Yet, like Days, it's somehow still fascinating.  Maybe because I do have some amount of affection for some of the the characters.  And because even though they all started out like time-traveling clones of the Gossip Girl characters, they've become their own selves in my mind.  Penelope Hayes is not longer the 1900 version of Blair Waldorf.  Blair Waldorf is a beast, but I can't help liking her.  Penelope Hayes, on the other hand, I could shove down three flights of stairs and smile while I watched her tumble.  So there's that.  And I'm curious to see which way things will go with Lina.  Because on one hand, she's selfish and conniving and backstabby, with no real sense of honor or loyalty, so I'd like to see her go down.  But on the other, if she does, then the only major characters from the lower class will have suffered bad ends.  I'M ALL CONFLICTED.

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*Then again, if the books were thinner, HarperCollins wouldn't be able to wrap those pretty, pretty covers around them.

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Previously:

1. The Luxe
2. Rumors

Ellen Page as Jane Eyre?

I'm sorry, but I'm just so not there. 

At all. 

Even remotely remotely.

(via Never Jam Today)

Own a Kindle?

Get yourself some free Lady Julia Grey.

Silent on the Moor: Lady Julia Grey Mysteries, #3 -- Deanna Raybourn

As usual, I'll try to avoid spoilers about the previous books.  But in some cases that can't be helped.  Especially in this case because the end of the second book totally lays the groundwork for the set-up of this one so really, if you haven't read these and would enjoy a light historical fiction/mystery set in the Victorian Era and narrated by a bossy and modern-minded young widow and heiress who has a passionate romance with a private inquiry agent who is easiest described as a cross between Heathcliff, Radcliffe Emerson, Sherlock Holmes and a werewolf*, you should snag the first book in the series and start from the beginning. 

Silent on the Moor begins with Lady Julia's sister Portia doing exactly what Brisbane told her NOT to do at the end of Book Two:  She heads out to visit his newly-acquired estate with Lady Julia in tow.  Lady Julia knows that he doesn't want her there.  But she's HAD IT.  She needs to know where they stand, and if Brisbane needs her help -- which she suspects he does -- she will be there for him, whether he likes it or not.  Society's opinion be damned.

She finds Brisbane more brooding and angry than ever, living at the aptly-named Grimsgrave with its penniless former owners, Lady Allenby and her daughters -- but that situation begins to look downright comfortable and cozy when compared with the mystery that beings to unfold shortly after her arrival... 

As Brisbane has always reminded me (in a good way) of Heathcliff, I'm glad that Deanna Raybourn just WENT FOR IT and set this one on the moors.  And I'm doubly glad that Julia and Portia actually talk about the Brontë-ish-ness of their visit (meeting a lady named Mrs. Earnshaw was just too much for them, I suppose).  I also loved the Mysterious Tolling Bell and the Egyptology.  And Valerius.  And I love Bellmont, awful as he is.  The March family is high up on my list of Literary Families I'd Like to Hang Out With.

Anyway.  I actually had the mysteries figured out early on, and, as usual, was a bit frustrated with Lady Julia for getting fooling by every red herring along the way -- I feel that more heroines should be well-versed in the old The Most Unlikely Character Is The Villain rule.  But I do give her points for having faith in Brisbane.  And the obviousness of the mysteries didn't really matter -- by the second-to-last chapter I was squawking, "WHAT?  WHAT?  THIS HAD BETTER END WELL, DEANNA!" at the book.  So clearly I was engaged.  I do enjoy my outings with these characters.

And immediately upon finishing it I checked her blog to make sure that this was not the end of the series.  It isn't.  PHEW.  I hope they go to India next.

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*He isn't actually a werewolf, as far as I can tell.  But he seems to be as wolfy as someone could possibly be WITHOUT being a werewolf.  If that makes any sense.  Probably not.  But, whatever.  Usually the whole werewolf thing doesn't do it for me, but if Brisbane wolfed out, I'd totally be the Willow to his Oz.  ANYWAY.

________________________________________________________

Previously:

1.  Silent in the Grave
2.  Silent in the Sanctuary

Because the Jane Austen/zombies mash-up isn't enough...

...there's a movie called Pride and Predator in the works.

I'm so there.

Oooo.

There's a short story by Jo Walton up at the Tor website.

______________________________________

Previously:

Farthing

A.S. King interviewed at Writer Unboxed.

From the interview:

Most of my books follow this same sort of POV switch, and one of the reasons I enjoy that is because if I get bored or stumped with one POV, I can keep working on the other. Very rarely do both stump me at once. I remember having to separate the Emer & Saffron storylines to check continuity during revisions. And because I wanted things to read smoothly, I resisted my math-geek urge to have chapters mathematically structured and switched POV when it came most naturally.

____________________________________________________________

Previously:

Dust of 100 Dogs

Sherri L. Smith's Flygirl...

...just got bumped up to the top of my TBR pile.

Emily of New Moon: Emily Byrd Starr, #1 -- L. M. Montgomery

Okay, okay.  I've calmed down a bit since my Emily freakout.  So now feel that I can actually talk about Emily of New Moon.

Judging from the comments on my Emily-related posts, it seems that I'm the only person on the planet who hasn't already read this book at least forty-seven times.  Just in case there's some quiet person out there who's in the same boat:

Miss Emily Byrd Starr, age ten, has lived with her ailing father in "the house in the hollow" for as long as she can remember.  People in the nearest town pity her for being motherless and for living in such a lonesome place, but:

Emily didn't know she was being pitied and didn't know what lonesomeness meant.  She had plenty of company.  There was Father--and Mike--and Saucy Sal.  The Wind Woman was always around; and there were the trees--Adam-and-Eve, and the Rooster Pine, and all the friendly lady-birches.

But consumption is consumption and eventually, her father dies.  And so Emily is sent to live with her Aunt Elizabeth, her Aunt Laura and her Cousin Jimmy at New Moon Farm.  Despite her troubles relating to her strict Aunt Elizabeth and her difficult first experiences with formal schooling, Emily grows to love New Moon and the people who live in and around it:  especially her friends Ilse, Teddy and Perry. 

Of course, I couldn't help thinking of the similarities between Emily Byrd Starr and Anne Shirley -- they're both orphans, both writers, both extremely precocious and both tend towards fancy and fantasy.  But Anne was an orphan for as long as she could remember, whereas Emily had a good ten years with her father -- so for me, well, you'll all be happy and smug to know that the first fifty pages of this book made me sob.  Sob.  And Emily has a passion for writing that I never felt from Anne -- Emily needs to write, while I felt that Anne just liked to write.  And this is the big one for me -- while I will always love reading about Anne Shirley, I've always thought that in real life I would want to strangle her.  Emily, on the other hand, I'd like to be friends with.

She's angrier than Anne, she's more prickly, and I think she has more spark.  Part of the reason, I think, is more than just simply personality, but the differences in their childhoods.  But now I'm starting to muse about the psychology of fictional characters and nobody needs that from me.  Anyway.  The scene right at the beginning where she hides under the table to listen to her relatives debate her flaws, merits and ultimately, her fate?  Brilliant.  And her time with Aunt Nancy, the time she goes to see the priest, her letters to her father, and the mystery of Ilse's mother?  All wonderful.  I don't know if I've ever despised a teacher quite as much as I despised Miss Brownell.  Or a little girl quite as much as Rhoda Stuart.

As for the other characters, I liked Dean Priest but I couldn't help but think that he's a pretty sketchy character for falling in love with an eleven-year-old.  (Or was she twelve at that point?  I can tell this is a book I'll need to read a few times)  I liked Teddy well enough, though I thought he was a bit boring -- but I'm definitely scared of his mother.  I loved Perry, of course -- the scene during Emily's bout with the measles where he sat guard on the stairs all night, "fists clenched, as if keeping guard against an unseen foe" just wrecked me.  And Isle's insults were AMAZING, and I loved her father.  I preferred Aunt Elizabeth to Aunt Laura because Aunt Elizabeth was more interesting, and of course I thought that Cousin Jimmy was a doll. 

I dog-eared so many pages with bits I liked that it would make more sense for me to go back and re-read the whole book instead of looking at the specific passages.  Yes, I loved Emily.  And I can see why so many people prefer her to Anne -- not just Emily vs. Anne, but the world of New Moon and Blair Water vs. the world of Green Gables and Avonlea.  We'll see.  I may end up being one of them.

________________________________________________________________

I read this book for the L. M. Montgomery mini-challenge.  My challenge post is here.

This deserves a post all its own.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

(Thanks, Beth!)

The Talisman Ring -- Georgette Heyer

I don't know what it is about Georgette Heyer that makes me want to do this, but here goes: 

Deep breath and GO!:  Sir Tristram Shield is called to the death bed of his Great Uncle Sylvester who tells him that he must marry his French cousin Eustacie because she can't go back to France due to the Revolution and he wants to be sure she is cared for and really Greaat Uncle Sylvester would rather that she marry his heir Ludovic but Ludovic is on the run for murdering a guy a few years back so Sylvester figured that Tristram is better than nothing and he's way more trustworthy in Sylvester's opinion than the dandified Beau Lavenham, who is next in line for the title after Ludovic (oxygen break):

Each at first glance felt moderately pleased with the other, a complacent mood which lasted for perhaps ten minutes, at the end of which time Sir Tristram was contemplating with grim misgiving the prospect of encountering vivacity at the breakfast-table for the rest of his life, and Eustacie was wondering whether her betrothed was capable of uttering anything but the most damping of monosyllables.

Deep breath and GO!:  But it's very clear that Tristram and Eustacie will not be a good match so she runs away to be a governess because according to every book she's ever read governesses always end up marrying the handsome young son of the household and because she wants to have adventures and have adventures she does because almost immediately after running away from Lavenham Court she is captured by smugglers one of whom just so happens to be her cousin Ludovic who claims that he is in fact not at all guilty of the murder but that someone framed him all those years ago.  WHEW.

And that doesn't even introduce Miss Thane, who, upon hearing of the mystery and adventure, immediately decides to join in the fun -- and who seems happiest when harassing poor, serious Sir Tristram.  You can read the bit where they meetat Georgette-Heyer.com.

I did think that The Talisman Ring was a tad too long, but overall I loved it.  It was totally silly and predictable with absolutely zero substance, but in a good way, and it made me laugh out loud again and again and again.  It was like cotton candy, but since it was well-written and charming, I decided that it was some magical cotton candy that isn't at all bad for you. 

Eustacie was hilarious and adorable and a bit of an idiot, Ludovic was the perfect match for her as he was also hilarious and adorable and a bit of an idiot, Sir Tristram, of course, had much more of a sense of humor than the other characters give him credit for, except of course for Miss Thane who knows that he's awesome from minute one.  The best thing about this one, not surprisingly, was not in the plot (as I said, extremely silly) or the character development (there really wasn't any), but in the interactions between the characters.  And, actually, like the secondary characters The Devil's Cub, the characters in this one enjoyed their adventures so much that their enthusiasm rubbed off on me.

______________________________________________________________

Previously:

The Alastair Trilogy
1.  These Old Shades
2.  The Devil's Cub
3.  An Infamous Army -- The characters in Regency Buck are major players in this one, but Regency Buck comes first.  I read them out of order, sadly.

Connected to The Alastair Trilogy:

Regency Buck -- See An Infamous Army above.
The Black Moth -- This was Heyer's first novel.  She later revisited the same characters (but with different names) in These Old Shades.

Damn it.

When I linked to the Emily Byrd Starr Wikipedia page, I accidentally found out How Everything Works Out In The End (i.e. Who She Marries).

I only just finished Emily of New Moon, and so maybe my feelings will change, but at the moment, my only response (that I feel comfortable posting here) is:

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

My co-worker just finished a book...

...and hated it so much that she thinks the author should be shot.

Which is way harsh, but after hearing her rant, somewhat understandable.

Dickens a bad boy?

"Proof" that he fathered a child with his wife's sister is going up for auction in February.

Silent in the Sanctuary: Lady Julia Grey, #2 -- Deanna Raybourn

I'm trying to avoid them, but do know that this will include some spoilers about the first book.

For the past six months, Lady Julia Grey has been traveling in Italy with her brothers, recuperating from her brush with death at the end of her investigation into her husband's murder.  In all that time, she hasn't heard a word from Nicholas Brisbane.  All she has of him is a silver pendant and the memory of the endless kiss they shared on Hampstead Heath.  (Insert much emoting and throbbing of voice there.  And also possibly violins and lightning.)

Due to an angry summons from their father, the three siblings pack up and head home for the Christmas holidays with their friend Alessandro -- a young, handsome (and single!) Italian count -- in tow.  Little does Lady Julia know that Nicholas Brisbane will also be a guest at the house party... or that he is now engaged to be married.  Or that the house party, already rife with tension, will be the setting for MURDER.  And possibly a GHOSTLY PRESENCE.

I do love these books.  Lady Julia continues to be rather Amelia Peabody-ish, all take-charge-y and attitudinal, and Brisbane continues to be brilliant and just the right kind of tortured (he broods, but is also snarky and able to laugh on occasion -- like a cross between Sherlock Holmes, Radcliffe Emerson and Angel).  So obviously the romance part of it was fun -- and unlike many other situations like this, in which the heroine is confronted with the sight of HER MAN involved with ANOTHER WOMAN (see Last Train to Memphis), Lady Julia isn't having any of it.  She doesn't get all insecure and mopey, because she knows that there's no way on Earth that Nicholas Brisbane would voluntarily get involved with a simpering ninny like Charlotte King.  But obviously there's something strange going on, and she's going to find out what it is...

And the mystery part of it works as well -- there's the Brisbane Engagement question, there's the How Did Brisbane Get Injured Question, there's the ghost, there's the MURRRDERRR... and I think I might be forgetting one.  Oh, right, the attempted poisoning.  And, sad as this is, I'd actually read this book before and I still couldn't remember how it all worked.  So nothing was hugely obvious, which was nice, but the author offers up some clues, too, so that's nice as well.

Oh, and quite a bit of the end-of-the-chapter foreshadowing, especially towards the beginning of the book:

We exchanged a smile, and I thought then that this might very well be the most interesting house party that Bellmont Abbey had seen since Shakespeare had spent a fortnight here, confined to bed with a spring cold.  Of course, I was entirely correct about that, but for reasons I could never have imagined.

Hooray.  Just plain great fun, with a swoony kick.  I'm so happy that I have an ARC of the next book in the series.

_________________________________________________________

Previously:

Silent in the Grave

Well, now I don't just want to read it... I need to read it.

There's a really nice post about Just Henry up at the Guardian.

And according to the commenters on my Costa winners post, there are a bunch more Magorian books I should read as well.  I'd better get to it.

Well, would ya look at that...

From the Flux Blog:

This beautiful book (no, really, how can you not love the cover?) also features a fantastic interview with the author, conducted by Leila Roy, the blogoddess over at BOOKSHELVES OF DOOM. Everyone who has read this book can't help but talk about it. So pardon me while I summon the spirit of my Esteemed Predecessor and crow about the impending arrival (in a bookstore near you) of DUST OF 100 DOGS. You'll find it in about a month. Pick it up and see what all the talk is about.

Heh heh heh.  The holidays made me forget all about this.

The Black Moth -- Georgette Heyer

Tracy Belmanoir, Duke of Andover (AKA "Devil"), has a penchant for dressing in black, not powdering his hair, and kidnapping beautiful young women.  His sister, Lavinia, is married to Richard Carstares, who (deep breath) is the younger brother of Jack, the Earl of Wyncham, who is in self-imposed exile since being caught cheating at cards seven years ago except he didn't really cheat at cards, it was Richard who was cheating but Jack took the blame because Richard was in love with Lavinia and Jack wanted to protect his little brother even though Richard was in the wrong and so Jack's been traveling The Continent, honing his skill at the sword and also being a gallant highwayman but now he's back in England and due to being in the right place at the right time, he thwarted the Duke's attempt to kidnap the lovely Diana and now Jack and Diana are in love but he can't propose because he's just a common highwayman and if he Tells All and reclaims his place in society, he will ruin his brother's life and also the Duke hasn't exactly given up on his obsession with Diana (phew).

The Black Moth was Georgette Heyer's first novel.  It's also connected to These Old Shades.  So, you see, I had to read it, even though I was counseled to skip it. 

First off, now I totally understand why people suggested that I skip it.  While the characters in These Old Shades sparkle and shine and make me laugh, the characters in The Black Moth, for the most part, never pass the point of Character, never become People, and those who do aren't particularly likable.  I also never really got caught up in the plot -- it took me a good week to get through this book, whereas a really enjoyable Heyer will usually only last me an afternoon.

But I am glad I read it, both because I'd like to read all of her books and because it was a bit of a trip to read about Justin's early days.  (Okay, yeah, different name, but really the same character -- and in These Old Shades, Jack Carstares becomes Lord Merivale* and Lavinia becomes Fanny.  I liked her much more as Fanny.)  And, as much as this book paled in comparison to These Old Shades, it made it that much easier to understand why Lord Merivale would hold such a grudge against Justin. 

So if it had been just a stand-alone, I'd have not liked it much at all, I think, but as it serves as an early history of the Alastairs, it made me happy despite my lack of enthusiasm.  But I'm happier thinking about it than I was actually reading it.

___________________________________________________________

*I Googled around to double-check the spelling of Merivale, and look!

___________________________________________________________

Previously:

The Alastair Trilogy
1.  These Old Shades
2.  The Devil's Cub
3.  An Infamous Army -- The characters in Regency Buck are major players in this one, but Regency Buck comes first.  I read them out of order, sadly.

Connected to The Alastair Trilogy:

Regency Buck

Bog Child -- Siobhan Dowd

Ireland, near the north-south border.  1981.

While illegally digging for peat with his Uncle Tally, almost 18-year-old Fergus McCann discovers the body of a young girl.  Though her body may be thousands of years old, Fergus begins to hear the voice of the Bog Child in his dreams.  And through those dreams, he begins to see how her life, so long ago and so different from what he knows, complements and parallels his own.

I loved this book.  It is very definitely a must-read for any fan of David Almond.  That's the short version of what I have to say.

The longer version is:  Not everyone will love this book.  It's certainly not a book to hand out willy-nilly to reluctant readers.  It isn't an easy-breezy read, action-packed and full of snappy comebacks.  While there are two romances in the book, neither of them are the typical romance novel romances.  They didn't make me swoon (though Fergus and Cora have some adorable moments as well as some wonderfully steamy ones), and from the very beginning, neither of them felt very permanent.   

I've read a lot of books lately that are packed full of ridiculous expository dialogue.  Bog Childhas none of that.  Siobhan Dowd dropped me into Fergus' world without any explanation, and while I had to scramble a bit to catch up, I appreciated the fact that the characters never sounded like they were talking to ME.  But, again, I can see how some readers would have a hard time with it all.  I liked it.  But, as I've said a million times before, I really like it when I feel like authors have confidence in and respect for their readers' intelligence.

I don't want to call it slow-moving, because I didn't find it so -- I felt so much tension due to the hunger strikes and to Fergus' involvement in running packages over the border, not to mention the growing tension within his family and within himself -- but I can certainly see how someone else could feel that way.

Me, though?  I found it flat-out riveting.  Siobhan Dowd created an amazing sense of place and time, but somehow made the story -- which, aside from the larger themes of conflict, sacrifice and peace, was about a boy letting go of his childhood and preparing to move on and in to the world -- timeless. 

It's a gorgeous book, and a special one.  Definitely one to hand to adults who tend to look down their noses at the YA section.

Regency Buck -- Georgette Heyer

Rather than obey their guardian's command to stay in Yorkshire, Miss Judith Taverner and her brother Sir Peregrine travel to London with the intention of setting up house.  After all, they've never met this guardian -- their father appointed him in his will without discussing it with them.  For that matter, he appointed Lord Worth their guardian without even discussing it with Lord Worth himself!  (Sir John Taverner was a tad difficult.)

On their way there, they have multiple run-ins with a very rude man.  Once together, and then each of them separately.  The following conversation occurs just after the rude man discovers Judith on the side of the road with her shoe off (she was, of course, trying to dislodge a pebble):

She looked him full in the eyes.  "If my brother had been with me you would not have accosted me in this fashion," she said.

"Certainly not," he agreed, quite imperturbably.  "He would have been very much in the way.  What is your name?"

"Again, sir, that is no concern of yours."

"A mystery," he said.  "I shall have to call you Clorinda.  May I put on your shoe for you?"

She gave a start; her cheeks flamed.  "No!" she said chokingly.  "You may do nothing for me except drive on!"

"Why, that is easily done!" he replied, and bent, and before she had time to realize his purpose, lifted her up in his arms, and walked off with her to his curricle.

Miss Taverner ought to have screamed, or fainted*.  She was too much surprised to do either**; but as soon as she had recovered from her astonishment at being picked up in that easy way (as though she had been a featherweight, which she knew she was not) she dealt her captor one resounding slap, with the full force of her arm behind it.

He winced a little, but his arms did not slacken their hold; rather they tightened slightly.  "Never hit with an open palm, Clorinda," he told her.  "I will show you how in a minute.  Up with you!"

Just after that, he does something EVEN MORE SHOCKING, so shocking that it made me GASP OUT LOUD. 

OF COURSE, the rude man and Lord Worth are one and the same.  So Peregrine and Judith find themselves both suffering under his rule.  Worth dismisses Judith's suitors without consulting her and refuses to raise Peregrine's allowance.  They are lucky to have the friendship and support of their amiable cousin, Bernard Taverner.  Or are they... ?

The pluses:  a poisoning plot; a couple of kidnappings; Lord Worth's hilariously misogynist young servant Henry; Beau Brummell, who is the personification of awesome; many, many descriptions of the clothing of the young Regency Buck(s), most of which were so outrageous that they had me snickering; and then there is Mrs. Scattergood, who should be heard rather than described:

"Lord, my dear!" said Mrs. Scattergood, in some dismay.  "Never say you are bookish!  Poems!  Oh well, there may be no harm in that, one must be able to talk of the latest poems if they happen to become the rage.  Marmion!  I liked that excessively, I remember, though it was too long for me to finish.  They say this young man who had been doing such odd things abroad is becoming the fashion, but I don't know.  He was excessively rude to poor Lord Carlisle in that horrid poem of his.  I cannot like him for it, besides that someone or other was telling me there is bad blood in all the Byrons.  But, of course, if he is to be the fashion one must keep an eye on him.  Let me warn you, my love, never be behind the times!"

The minuses:  Okay, so a lot of people might find Lord Worth offensive.  He bosses Judith and Peregrine abominably, he's high-handed, doesn't explain his reasons for his actions and doesn't give them the information that they'd need to make major decisions even if he'd allow them to make the decisions in the first place which he won't so I guess it's all moot anyway but still.  Huh.  Sounds a tad like Edward Cullen. 

Anyway, he didn't particularly bother me at all, because as with many of the Heyer books, it's pretty clear how things are going to go from the beginning and I knew that Lord Worth must have good reasons for doing what he did even if he was an ass about it.  Also, I loved him in An Infamous Army, so I couldn't really work up a good head of feminist steamy outrage. 

No, the minus for me was that there was so little interaction between Judith and Lord Worth that I never felt any swoon.  I never believed in the romance, and that's a bad thing in a romance novel.  But I loved Beau Brummell so much that the book wasn't a dud.  And the bad guy was so ridiculously bad by the end that it was fun.  And I did love Henry.

So, not my favorite, but I still enjoyed myself.

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*Because that would have accomplished... what?

**I love that fainting is apparently something that ladies actively choose to do in these books.

_____________________________________________________

Previously:

The Alastair Trilogy
1.  These Old Shades
2.  The Devil's Cub
3.  An Infamous Army -- The characters in Regency Buck are major players in this one, but Regency Buck comes first.  I read them out of order, sadly.