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Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Hottest Blood: The Ultimate in Erotic Horror in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Hottest Blood: The Ultimate in Erotic Horror is Neither of Those Things
(I’m gonna go ahead and throw a disclaimer on up here: You are about to read something that deals with purportedly “erotic” subject matter. If you don’t like the sound of that word, you might wanna go elsewhere. If it’s actually-erotic things that offend you, though, you’ll be fine.)
I like short story compilations because you get a variety of content that’s just as easy to breeze through if you have the time as it is to get to a stopping point and put down if you don’t. I like horror fiction because it usually involves the super-natural, which interests me, and intense emotional responses, which are almost always a good thing in writing. And I like eroticism because I am a warm-blooded human being with a pulse. However, on the whole, I do not like Hottest Blood.
I wanted to, I did. Look at that cover. It’s equal amounts scary and sexy, both in completely safe, PG-13-at-most kind of ways. Unfortunately, Softcore Succubus here is both the scariest and the sexiest thing about this book
Bluntly analogized, you know that feeling you get when you come across something on the internet that disturbs and/or disgusts you, and then you learn that there’s a dedicated group of people that gets off on it? Most of the stories in this book are that feeling captured in words.
Case in point, the story “Damaged Goods” by Elizabeth Massie, which as far as I can tell is about a couple of physically abused, emotionally damaged, developmentally stunted kids somewhere around their early teens who live with a religious fringe cult being led out to a field to have sex with each other while a nameless U.S. President watches and masturbates before both kids are drowned in a river by their preacher/pimp caretaker.
Or there’s “Mr. Right” by Chris Lacher, which tells the story of a college student named Russ who has a secret fetish for the deformed women in the freak show at a nearby carnival – a fascination which leads to him getting held down and forcibly raped by a group of unwashed subhuman mutants, which the detailed descriptions make sure you understand are completely revolting to all five senses. The story ends with him being dumped out behind the fairgrounds while a small, legless girl happily informs him that this is how all carnival workers reproduce, and he can look forward to seeing his own mutant rape-spawn in the show next year.
Or there’s “Abuse” by Matthew Costello, which simply shows us how the arrest of a Peewee Herman surrogate goes down in an adult movie theater before ending with another man jerking off with the cold, dry, severed hand in his pocket as he contemplates getting a new one to replace it.
The tone of these three are pretty much par for the course for the rest of the book: thoroughly disturbing, and sex is involved, but the disturbing feeling stems from revulsion rather than fear, and the sex bits are so far on the other end of the spectrum from erotic that it feels like the authors are trying to punish their readers for even expecting to be aroused in any way.
Of course, I said myself earlier that intense emotional responses are “almost always a good thing in writing.” By that merit alone, this book technically succeeds; in fact, if it had billed itself as shock fiction instead of erotic horror, I’d begrudgingly give it a medal in its class. The “aw, what the hell?!” moments are not as artistically executed as, say, a Chuck Palahniuk read, and they tend not to have as much depth to them, but strictly in terms of making you wish that you could unread words, they get the job done.
But that isn’t the job that Hottest Blood was hired to do, and that’s not what it put on its resume. It said it was going to “heat the blood and chill the mind,” and promised that “terror never felt this sexy!” It would have been more appropriate to say that “sex never felt this terrible.”
All of that said, if you abandon any hope of seeing anything resembling erotica or horror (scary horror, anyway), there are a few stories in here that are decent reads – mostly because they try to say something with their subject matter rather than use it to see how thoroughly they can ruin the idea of sex for the reader. To give a few quick nods of approval:
Nancy Holder’s “I Hear the Mermaids Singing,” which opens the anthology, is a dark and modern re-imagining of “The Little Mermaid” that brutally points up the drawbacks to throwing away your whole life and family in order to pursue someone that you know nothing about outside of a few fleeting glimpses and lustful inner fantasies.
J.L. Comeau’s “Black Cars” is the narrative of a high-class chauffeur as he tells his passenger an increasingly mysterious story about a couple of his regular customers, culminating in a creepy twist payoff that, in retrospect, actually makes it count as a legitimate horror story, and a decently gripping one at that.
And “Safe at Home” by Steve and Melanie Tem, while decidedly and disturbingly unsexy, at least has good reason to be; it’s a short character study of a young woman who’d been molested as a child, and the lasting and complex psychological damage resulting thereof that prevents her from having any normal social life or relationships, even with someone whom she legitimately likes, someone who knows what’s happened and sincerely cares for her.
So for the handful of intriguing stories that don’t make you quit (or wish you had) mid-read out of revolted disappointment, I can’t completely condemn Hottest Blood. If you want to test your own threshold for repulsion but are understandably hesitant to use online image searches to this end, I heartily recommend it.
If you are legitimately turned on by the idea of a man eating a woman alive and then gestating her alien spawn inside his own bloated body until his head detaches and crawls away (“How Deep the Taste of Love,” John Shirley), I suppose I still heartily recommend it, though I do so from a safe distance.
If you want to read one of the few stories involved that aren’t horrible, I heartily recommend trying to find them on their own somewhere else first.
But if you want “the ultimate in erotic horror,” stay the hell away. Softcore Succubus is a trap.
I like short story compilations because you get a variety of content that’s just as easy to breeze through if you have the time as it is to get to a stopping point and put down if you don’t. I like horror fiction because it usually involves the super-natural, which interests me, and intense emotional responses, which are almost always a good thing in writing. And I like eroticism because I am a warm-blooded human being with a pulse. However, on the whole, I do not like Hottest Blood.
I wanted to, I did. Look at that cover. It’s equal amounts scary and sexy, both in completely safe, PG-13-at-most kind of ways. Unfortunately, Softcore Succubus here is both the scariest and the sexiest thing about this book
Bluntly analogized, you know that feeling you get when you come across something on the internet that disturbs and/or disgusts you, and then you learn that there’s a dedicated group of people that gets off on it? Most of the stories in this book are that feeling captured in words.
Case in point, the story “Damaged Goods” by Elizabeth Massie, which as far as I can tell is about a couple of physically abused, emotionally damaged, developmentally stunted kids somewhere around their early teens who live with a religious fringe cult being led out to a field to have sex with each other while a nameless U.S. President watches and masturbates before both kids are drowned in a river by their preacher/pimp caretaker.
Or there’s “Mr. Right” by Chris Lacher, which tells the story of a college student named Russ who has a secret fetish for the deformed women in the freak show at a nearby carnival – a fascination which leads to him getting held down and forcibly raped by a group of unwashed subhuman mutants, which the detailed descriptions make sure you understand are completely revolting to all five senses. The story ends with him being dumped out behind the fairgrounds while a small, legless girl happily informs him that this is how all carnival workers reproduce, and he can look forward to seeing his own mutant rape-spawn in the show next year.
Or there’s “Abuse” by Matthew Costello, which simply shows us how the arrest of a Peewee Herman surrogate goes down in an adult movie theater before ending with another man jerking off with the cold, dry, severed hand in his pocket as he contemplates getting a new one to replace it.
The tone of these three are pretty much par for the course for the rest of the book: thoroughly disturbing, and sex is involved, but the disturbing feeling stems from revulsion rather than fear, and the sex bits are so far on the other end of the spectrum from erotic that it feels like the authors are trying to punish their readers for even expecting to be aroused in any way.
Of course, I said myself earlier that intense emotional responses are “almost always a good thing in writing.” By that merit alone, this book technically succeeds; in fact, if it had billed itself as shock fiction instead of erotic horror, I’d begrudgingly give it a medal in its class. The “aw, what the hell?!” moments are not as artistically executed as, say, a Chuck Palahniuk read, and they tend not to have as much depth to them, but strictly in terms of making you wish that you could unread words, they get the job done.
But that isn’t the job that Hottest Blood was hired to do, and that’s not what it put on its resume. It said it was going to “heat the blood and chill the mind,” and promised that “terror never felt this sexy!” It would have been more appropriate to say that “sex never felt this terrible.”
All of that said, if you abandon any hope of seeing anything resembling erotica or horror (scary horror, anyway), there are a few stories in here that are decent reads – mostly because they try to say something with their subject matter rather than use it to see how thoroughly they can ruin the idea of sex for the reader. To give a few quick nods of approval:
Nancy Holder’s “I Hear the Mermaids Singing,” which opens the anthology, is a dark and modern re-imagining of “The Little Mermaid” that brutally points up the drawbacks to throwing away your whole life and family in order to pursue someone that you know nothing about outside of a few fleeting glimpses and lustful inner fantasies.
J.L. Comeau’s “Black Cars” is the narrative of a high-class chauffeur as he tells his passenger an increasingly mysterious story about a couple of his regular customers, culminating in a creepy twist payoff that, in retrospect, actually makes it count as a legitimate horror story, and a decently gripping one at that.
And “Safe at Home” by Steve and Melanie Tem, while decidedly and disturbingly unsexy, at least has good reason to be; it’s a short character study of a young woman who’d been molested as a child, and the lasting and complex psychological damage resulting thereof that prevents her from having any normal social life or relationships, even with someone whom she legitimately likes, someone who knows what’s happened and sincerely cares for her.
So for the handful of intriguing stories that don’t make you quit (or wish you had) mid-read out of revolted disappointment, I can’t completely condemn Hottest Blood. If you want to test your own threshold for repulsion but are understandably hesitant to use online image searches to this end, I heartily recommend it.
If you are legitimately turned on by the idea of a man eating a woman alive and then gestating her alien spawn inside his own bloated body until his head detaches and crawls away (“How Deep the Taste of Love,” John Shirley), I suppose I still heartily recommend it, though I do so from a safe distance.
If you want to read one of the few stories involved that aren’t horrible, I heartily recommend trying to find them on their own somewhere else first.
But if you want “the ultimate in erotic horror,” stay the hell away. Softcore Succubus is a trap.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated The Music Shop in Books
Aug 22, 2017
Learning to listen
This eBook was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review
From the author of The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry comes a unique and beautiful story about music and learning how to listen. The Music Shop by Rachel Joyce takes readers on a journey through the developing music world of the late 1980s when CDs are beginning to wipe out all other means of recording music – a complete disaster for someone like Frank, the owner of the music shop, who only sells vinyl.
The book begins in 1988 in a crumbling down street where shopkeepers are barely making enough money to survive. Frank’s shop is one of the few remaining and, despite everything against him, is determined to keep going. Not only does he sell vinyl records, Frank has an empathetic gift allowing him to sense exactly what a customer needs to listen to, even though they may not realise it themselves. However, one day, Frank’s world is turned upside down by the arrival of a young German woman, Ilse Brauchmann, who faints on his doorstep.
Ilse intrigues all of the shopkeepers on Unity Street, particularly Frank’s teenaged assistant, Kit. Although Frank tries to deny it, Ilse also fascinates him to the point that he is rarely thinking of anything else. But what concerns him most is that he cannot pinpoint what piece of music she ought to listen to. When questioned, Ilse admits she knows nothing about music and begs Frank to give her lessons. These lessons have nothing to do with instruments – Frank is the least qualified to teach such a thing – but about how to listen to music. How to hear the pauses in classical pieces; understand the meaning behind Beethoven’s sonatas; feel the passion behind punk music; learn to love a number of composers for the things many people miss.
The longer Frank spends around Ilse, the more he begins to fall in love. However, love is something Frank denies himself ever since the death of his mother fifteen years previously. Written in italics are flashback chapters explaining how Frank’s love of music came about, his relationship with his mother, and how he ended up as a dead-end vinyl seller. Due to his fear of intimate relationships, Frank keeps pushing Ilse away until, one day, he realises how much he needs her. But, he may have left it too late.
The Music Shop is split into four sections, or sides (a reference to vinyl records). Side A introduces the characters and settings during a wintery January when Frank is beginning to struggle with the competition caused by the recently opened Woolworths on the nearby high street. Sides B and C focus on the development of Frank and Ilse’s friendship, the secrets they hide from each other and the foreboding sense of disaster hanging over the one-of-a-kind music shop.
As Frank begins to realise how much Ilse means to him, the sudden appearance of side D will break readers’ hearts. Whilst sides A, B and C take place in 1988, side D jumps forward 21 years to 2009. It appears Frank and Ilse never got the relationship they deserved. Two unhappy decades have been and gone, demolishing any resemblance of the way life used to be. However, because there is a side D, readers can only hope it will result in a happy ending.
The Music Shop is a love story between two quiet, modest characters whose past and present circumstances get in the way of a peaceful future. However, it is not only a piece of romantic fiction. Rachel Joyce writes a message in story format about second chances and being brave. Learning to listen does not only apply to music, it applies to hearing what other people are saying and what they are not; most importantly, the book urges people to listen to themselves.
The research undertaken for this novel is phenomenal. For starters, it is set almost thirty years ago when vinyl was only beginning to go out of fashion. The quality of music and the access people had to it was extremely different to the simplicity of today where it is possible to download everything at the press of a button. The breadth of music genre is as wide as possible. Every type of music is covered from Handel’s Messiah to Aretha Franklin and The Sex Pistols. To be able to discuss such a range without falling into stereotypes is a feat worthy of congratulating.
The Music Shop far surpasses anything Rachel Joyce has written so far. The story is fragile in a beautiful way, its delicacy causing the reader to treat it with care, rather than rush through it like some mundane piece of fiction. It will interest a whole host of readers: male and female, music lovers and those with a preference for silence. Whoever you are, be prepared to take something away from this distinctive, outstanding novel.
From the author of The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry comes a unique and beautiful story about music and learning how to listen. The Music Shop by Rachel Joyce takes readers on a journey through the developing music world of the late 1980s when CDs are beginning to wipe out all other means of recording music – a complete disaster for someone like Frank, the owner of the music shop, who only sells vinyl.
The book begins in 1988 in a crumbling down street where shopkeepers are barely making enough money to survive. Frank’s shop is one of the few remaining and, despite everything against him, is determined to keep going. Not only does he sell vinyl records, Frank has an empathetic gift allowing him to sense exactly what a customer needs to listen to, even though they may not realise it themselves. However, one day, Frank’s world is turned upside down by the arrival of a young German woman, Ilse Brauchmann, who faints on his doorstep.
Ilse intrigues all of the shopkeepers on Unity Street, particularly Frank’s teenaged assistant, Kit. Although Frank tries to deny it, Ilse also fascinates him to the point that he is rarely thinking of anything else. But what concerns him most is that he cannot pinpoint what piece of music she ought to listen to. When questioned, Ilse admits she knows nothing about music and begs Frank to give her lessons. These lessons have nothing to do with instruments – Frank is the least qualified to teach such a thing – but about how to listen to music. How to hear the pauses in classical pieces; understand the meaning behind Beethoven’s sonatas; feel the passion behind punk music; learn to love a number of composers for the things many people miss.
The longer Frank spends around Ilse, the more he begins to fall in love. However, love is something Frank denies himself ever since the death of his mother fifteen years previously. Written in italics are flashback chapters explaining how Frank’s love of music came about, his relationship with his mother, and how he ended up as a dead-end vinyl seller. Due to his fear of intimate relationships, Frank keeps pushing Ilse away until, one day, he realises how much he needs her. But, he may have left it too late.
The Music Shop is split into four sections, or sides (a reference to vinyl records). Side A introduces the characters and settings during a wintery January when Frank is beginning to struggle with the competition caused by the recently opened Woolworths on the nearby high street. Sides B and C focus on the development of Frank and Ilse’s friendship, the secrets they hide from each other and the foreboding sense of disaster hanging over the one-of-a-kind music shop.
As Frank begins to realise how much Ilse means to him, the sudden appearance of side D will break readers’ hearts. Whilst sides A, B and C take place in 1988, side D jumps forward 21 years to 2009. It appears Frank and Ilse never got the relationship they deserved. Two unhappy decades have been and gone, demolishing any resemblance of the way life used to be. However, because there is a side D, readers can only hope it will result in a happy ending.
The Music Shop is a love story between two quiet, modest characters whose past and present circumstances get in the way of a peaceful future. However, it is not only a piece of romantic fiction. Rachel Joyce writes a message in story format about second chances and being brave. Learning to listen does not only apply to music, it applies to hearing what other people are saying and what they are not; most importantly, the book urges people to listen to themselves.
The research undertaken for this novel is phenomenal. For starters, it is set almost thirty years ago when vinyl was only beginning to go out of fashion. The quality of music and the access people had to it was extremely different to the simplicity of today where it is possible to download everything at the press of a button. The breadth of music genre is as wide as possible. Every type of music is covered from Handel’s Messiah to Aretha Franklin and The Sex Pistols. To be able to discuss such a range without falling into stereotypes is a feat worthy of congratulating.
The Music Shop far surpasses anything Rachel Joyce has written so far. The story is fragile in a beautiful way, its delicacy causing the reader to treat it with care, rather than rush through it like some mundane piece of fiction. It will interest a whole host of readers: male and female, music lovers and those with a preference for silence. Whoever you are, be prepared to take something away from this distinctive, outstanding novel.
Hazel (1853 KP) rated The Music Shop in Books
Dec 7, 2018
<i>This eBook was provided by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review </i>
From the author of <i>The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry </i>comes a unique and beautiful story about music and learning how to listen. <i>The Music Shop</i> by Rachel Joyce takes readers on a journey through the developing music world of the late 1980s when CDs are beginning to wipe out all other means of recording music – a complete disaster for someone like Frank, the owner of the music shop, who only sells vinyl.
The book begins in 1988 in a crumbling down street where shopkeepers are barely making enough money to survive. Frank’s shop is one of the few remaining and, despite everything against him, is determined to keep going. Not only does he sell vinyl records, Frank has an empathetic gift allowing him to sense exactly what a customer needs to listen to, even though they may not realise it themselves. However, one day, Frank’s world is turned upside down by the arrival of a young German woman, Ilse Brauchmann, who faints on his doorstep.
Ilse intrigues all of the shopkeepers on Unity Street, particularly Frank’s teenaged assistant, Kit. Although Frank tries to deny it, Ilse also fascinates him to the point that he is rarely thinking of anything else. But what concerns him most is that he cannot pinpoint what piece of music she ought to listen to. When questioned, Ilse admits she knows nothing about music and begs Frank to give her lessons. These lessons have nothing to do with instruments – Frank is the least qualified to teach such a thing – but about how to listen to music. How to hear the pauses in classical pieces; understand the meaning behind Beethoven’s sonatas; feel the passion behind punk music; learn to love a number of composers for the things many people miss.
The longer Frank spends around Ilse, the more he begins to fall in love. However, love is something Frank denies himself ever since the death of his mother fifteen years previously. Written in italics are flashback chapters explaining how Frank’s love of music came about, his relationship with his mother, and how he ended up as a dead-end vinyl seller. Due to his fear of intimate relationships, Frank keeps pushing Ilse away until, one day, he realises how much he needs her. But, he may have left it too late.
<i>The Music Shop</i> is split into four sections, or sides (a reference to vinyl records). Side A introduces the characters and settings during a wintery January when Frank is beginning to struggle with the competition caused by the recently opened Woolworths on the nearby high street. Sides B and C focus on the development of Frank and Ilse’s friendship, the secrets they hide from each other and the foreboding sense of disaster hanging over the one-of-a-kind music shop.
As Frank begins to realise how much Ilse means to him, the sudden appearance of side D will break readers’ hearts. Whilst sides A, B and C take place in 1988, side D jumps forward 21 years to 2009. It appears Frank and Ilse never got the relationship they deserved. Two unhappy decades have been and gone, demolishing any resemblance of the way life used to be. However, because there is a side D, readers can only hope it will result in a happy ending.
<i>The Music Shop</i> is a love story between two quiet, modest characters whose past and present circumstances get in the way of a peaceful future. However, it is not only a piece of romantic fiction. Rachel Joyce writes a message in story format about second chances and being brave. Learning to listen does not only apply to music, it applies to hearing what other people are saying and what they are not; most importantly, the book urges people to listen to themselves.
The research undertaken for this novel is phenomenal. For starters, it is set almost thirty years ago when vinyl was only beginning to go out of fashion. The quality of music and the access people had to it was extremely different to the simplicity of today where it is possible to download everything at the press of a button. The breadth of music genre is as wide as possible. Every type of music is covered from Handel’s <i>Messiah</i> to Aretha Franklin and The Sex Pistols. To be able to discuss such a range without falling into stereotypes is a feat worthy of congratulating.
<i>The Music Shop</i> far surpasses anything Rachel Joyce has written so far. The story is fragile in a beautiful way, its delicacy causing the reader to treat it with care, rather than rush through it like some mundane piece of fiction. It will interest a whole host of readers: male and female, music lovers and those with a preference for silence. Whoever you are, be prepared to take something away from this distinctive, outstanding novel.
From the author of <i>The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry </i>comes a unique and beautiful story about music and learning how to listen. <i>The Music Shop</i> by Rachel Joyce takes readers on a journey through the developing music world of the late 1980s when CDs are beginning to wipe out all other means of recording music – a complete disaster for someone like Frank, the owner of the music shop, who only sells vinyl.
The book begins in 1988 in a crumbling down street where shopkeepers are barely making enough money to survive. Frank’s shop is one of the few remaining and, despite everything against him, is determined to keep going. Not only does he sell vinyl records, Frank has an empathetic gift allowing him to sense exactly what a customer needs to listen to, even though they may not realise it themselves. However, one day, Frank’s world is turned upside down by the arrival of a young German woman, Ilse Brauchmann, who faints on his doorstep.
Ilse intrigues all of the shopkeepers on Unity Street, particularly Frank’s teenaged assistant, Kit. Although Frank tries to deny it, Ilse also fascinates him to the point that he is rarely thinking of anything else. But what concerns him most is that he cannot pinpoint what piece of music she ought to listen to. When questioned, Ilse admits she knows nothing about music and begs Frank to give her lessons. These lessons have nothing to do with instruments – Frank is the least qualified to teach such a thing – but about how to listen to music. How to hear the pauses in classical pieces; understand the meaning behind Beethoven’s sonatas; feel the passion behind punk music; learn to love a number of composers for the things many people miss.
The longer Frank spends around Ilse, the more he begins to fall in love. However, love is something Frank denies himself ever since the death of his mother fifteen years previously. Written in italics are flashback chapters explaining how Frank’s love of music came about, his relationship with his mother, and how he ended up as a dead-end vinyl seller. Due to his fear of intimate relationships, Frank keeps pushing Ilse away until, one day, he realises how much he needs her. But, he may have left it too late.
<i>The Music Shop</i> is split into four sections, or sides (a reference to vinyl records). Side A introduces the characters and settings during a wintery January when Frank is beginning to struggle with the competition caused by the recently opened Woolworths on the nearby high street. Sides B and C focus on the development of Frank and Ilse’s friendship, the secrets they hide from each other and the foreboding sense of disaster hanging over the one-of-a-kind music shop.
As Frank begins to realise how much Ilse means to him, the sudden appearance of side D will break readers’ hearts. Whilst sides A, B and C take place in 1988, side D jumps forward 21 years to 2009. It appears Frank and Ilse never got the relationship they deserved. Two unhappy decades have been and gone, demolishing any resemblance of the way life used to be. However, because there is a side D, readers can only hope it will result in a happy ending.
<i>The Music Shop</i> is a love story between two quiet, modest characters whose past and present circumstances get in the way of a peaceful future. However, it is not only a piece of romantic fiction. Rachel Joyce writes a message in story format about second chances and being brave. Learning to listen does not only apply to music, it applies to hearing what other people are saying and what they are not; most importantly, the book urges people to listen to themselves.
The research undertaken for this novel is phenomenal. For starters, it is set almost thirty years ago when vinyl was only beginning to go out of fashion. The quality of music and the access people had to it was extremely different to the simplicity of today where it is possible to download everything at the press of a button. The breadth of music genre is as wide as possible. Every type of music is covered from Handel’s <i>Messiah</i> to Aretha Franklin and The Sex Pistols. To be able to discuss such a range without falling into stereotypes is a feat worthy of congratulating.
<i>The Music Shop</i> far surpasses anything Rachel Joyce has written so far. The story is fragile in a beautiful way, its delicacy causing the reader to treat it with care, rather than rush through it like some mundane piece of fiction. It will interest a whole host of readers: male and female, music lovers and those with a preference for silence. Whoever you are, be prepared to take something away from this distinctive, outstanding novel.
The first half of The Serpent and the Moon mainly deals with Francois I's reign as king and has little to do with the love triangle. Frankly, the whole book itself hasn't much to do with the love triangle or "one of the great love stories of all time," but more to do with the political intrigue of Henri I and his father's reigns. Oh, and lest I forget, Henri, Diane, and both of their symbols, monograms, etc. I honestly don't know what the whole fascination of that was all about, but it showed up everywhere.
On page 187 the princess tells us that it is a man's way of thinking that Diane wouldn't have become Henri's mistress if he hadn't become dauphin. I disagree, it is a realist's view, and frankly, I think it's fully possible that was how it started. Yes, maybe she was flattered by his attention too, but to consider having him as a lover in light of how much she was in his life growing up, it's a bit creepy. Oedipus comes to mind. I believe he was infatuated with her from a young age and it most likely progressed into love, for both of them. I envision her grabbing the chance at being the mistress of a king and being older, she knew how to mould and persuade him. Whether or not it was a true love story, I really don't know; I'm not sure anyone does and I don't care all that much.
As many other reviewers have stated, there is an obvious bias. The readers are warned in the introduction, but even if you know that, there's still the possibility that the work as a whole might be neutral. Unfortunately, that's not the case. Maybe if it had only been a slight bias, I wouldn't have cared so much, but when an author heaps praise on one person and how they accomplish everything, and then turn around and bash someone else for the exact same thing. Well, that's just hypocrisy.
From the book, the author would have you believe that Diane de Poitiers got to where she was merely by being a good, honest, gracious, and pious woman and Catherine de' Medici did it by being a cold, heartless, evil, spiteful person. I'm sorry but you cannot have climbed to the heights Diane did, especially in those times, without being conniving in one way or the other. I'm sure she did the same things Catherine did, so quit holding Diane up on a pedestal; she's really not a goddess, just a woman. Diane is a white light, Catherine is black as death and there isn't any grey between them for most of the book. By the end of the book I really took the "history" lightly, mainly that of these two women, more than anything else; it was just an unfair assessment. And with the author's snarky and catty remarks directed towards Catherine, saying she has a "fat little heart," well, that was just uncalled for. Then at the end, her words were so disgusting about Catherine's behavior towards Diane, saying how petty she was and she did things purely due to "feminine spite". Catherine could have done much worse to her but she didn't! Of course, Ms. Perfect D. was always so respectful and exemplary of Catherine. Give me a break. Maybe some of the things said in the book were true about both women, but then again, maybe not. Most is lost to history.
If Princess Michael of Kent's plan was for me to sympathize and idolize Diane de Poitiers, as she does, it backfired. Now I don't ever care to ever hear about her again, and I love history of all kinds. On the other hand, I have already ordered two books about Catherine de' Medici from the library. Most likely the opposite of what she wanted. I honestly don't blame Catherine if she was bitter, who wouldn't be in that situation? Even if it was a different time, circumstance, and an arranged marriage? I refuse to believe Diane was this perfect being, a goddess, virtuous as can be, a victim - nobody is all these things and I don't know why the author cannot see any imperfections and insists on romanticizing her.
Even though I hated how biased this book was, I still appreciate the amount of research this must have taken, it was fairly well-written in form, and there was loads of information. I'd only recommend this to Catherine haters, loathers, or serious dislikers. With the princess's flair for the dramatic and speculation on feelings and actions, she might want to focus on writing works of fiction instead. I have no desire to read anything by this author again.
On page 187 the princess tells us that it is a man's way of thinking that Diane wouldn't have become Henri's mistress if he hadn't become dauphin. I disagree, it is a realist's view, and frankly, I think it's fully possible that was how it started. Yes, maybe she was flattered by his attention too, but to consider having him as a lover in light of how much she was in his life growing up, it's a bit creepy. Oedipus comes to mind. I believe he was infatuated with her from a young age and it most likely progressed into love, for both of them. I envision her grabbing the chance at being the mistress of a king and being older, she knew how to mould and persuade him. Whether or not it was a true love story, I really don't know; I'm not sure anyone does and I don't care all that much.
As many other reviewers have stated, there is an obvious bias. The readers are warned in the introduction, but even if you know that, there's still the possibility that the work as a whole might be neutral. Unfortunately, that's not the case. Maybe if it had only been a slight bias, I wouldn't have cared so much, but when an author heaps praise on one person and how they accomplish everything, and then turn around and bash someone else for the exact same thing. Well, that's just hypocrisy.
From the book, the author would have you believe that Diane de Poitiers got to where she was merely by being a good, honest, gracious, and pious woman and Catherine de' Medici did it by being a cold, heartless, evil, spiteful person. I'm sorry but you cannot have climbed to the heights Diane did, especially in those times, without being conniving in one way or the other. I'm sure she did the same things Catherine did, so quit holding Diane up on a pedestal; she's really not a goddess, just a woman. Diane is a white light, Catherine is black as death and there isn't any grey between them for most of the book. By the end of the book I really took the "history" lightly, mainly that of these two women, more than anything else; it was just an unfair assessment. And with the author's snarky and catty remarks directed towards Catherine, saying she has a "fat little heart," well, that was just uncalled for. Then at the end, her words were so disgusting about Catherine's behavior towards Diane, saying how petty she was and she did things purely due to "feminine spite". Catherine could have done much worse to her but she didn't! Of course, Ms. Perfect D. was always so respectful and exemplary of Catherine. Give me a break. Maybe some of the things said in the book were true about both women, but then again, maybe not. Most is lost to history.
If Princess Michael of Kent's plan was for me to sympathize and idolize Diane de Poitiers, as she does, it backfired. Now I don't ever care to ever hear about her again, and I love history of all kinds. On the other hand, I have already ordered two books about Catherine de' Medici from the library. Most likely the opposite of what she wanted. I honestly don't blame Catherine if she was bitter, who wouldn't be in that situation? Even if it was a different time, circumstance, and an arranged marriage? I refuse to believe Diane was this perfect being, a goddess, virtuous as can be, a victim - nobody is all these things and I don't know why the author cannot see any imperfections and insists on romanticizing her.
Even though I hated how biased this book was, I still appreciate the amount of research this must have taken, it was fairly well-written in form, and there was loads of information. I'd only recommend this to Catherine haters, loathers, or serious dislikers. With the princess's flair for the dramatic and speculation on feelings and actions, she might want to focus on writing works of fiction instead. I have no desire to read anything by this author again.
Haley Mathiot (9 KP) rated The Wolf Next Door (Westfield Wolves, #3) in Books
Apr 27, 2018
The Wolf Next Door by Lydia Dare
Genre: Paranormal werewolf romance, historical fiction
ISBN:9781402236969
Published: June 1st 2010 by Sourcebooks Casablanca
Rating:
Years ago, William Westfield and Pricia Hawthorne were in love—but Pricia's heart was broken and she refuses to let the scoundrel forget it. She knows now that he never committed the accused crime… but she can't bare to give her heart to him again. Even though she wants to.
Will has established his reputation as the best lover in six centuries. And he knows he did it to get Pricia out of his head. He still loves and adores her, snotty remarks and spirited personality and rule-breaking attitude and all. But when he is forced to visit the Hawthorne house to escort his sisters-in-law, he discovers that another man—another Lycan man—is pursuing her hand in marriage. Will doesn't think: The games are over. He decides that he will do anything and everything to keep the other werewolf away, and claim her forever.
This was, out of the three Westfield stories, my favorite. From the time I started reading, I couldn't put it down. It was fast-paced, exciting, and romantic. Although can I say that the covers—for this one and the others—could have been better? Still, I loved the story.
Will has always been my favorite Westfield, because of his happy, funny, warm, laid-back personality… and I loved seeing him desperately in love, trying his hardest to charm Pricia's socks off. Pricia is my favorite kind of heroine: the kind that can hold her own, especially with five brothers. Put Will and Pricia together, and you have an epic couple: They love each other, they hate each other. But they only hate each other because they love each other… a never-ending circle, a never-ending conversation, and a never-ending story… but a very satisfying ending to the book.
The plot was a lot more exciting than Dare's other werewolf stories—not to say the others aren't exciting. But this one surpassed the others. The other Lycan threatening Will's happiness added a good conflict to the story. Pricia's execution of torture on poor Will was both pitiful and hilarious. There was a war going on between the two wolves, and a war going on between the lovers, and it made for a stay-up-until-3-AM kind of book.
One of the reasons this one was probably my favorite, was because it wasn't sappy. I'm not saying the others are: but there was this running theme of the woman telling the man she was in love with him, and the man not admitting it until way too late, and causing problems because of it. There was none of that in The Wolf Next Door. Will straight up told Pricia that he loved her. He told her father he loved her. He told his brothers, and her brothers, that he loved her. And it made their romance much better and much more believable.
Magic, romance, heart-break, rivals, witches, and true love…all tied together with a sweet, naive, innocent little devil, and a very handsome werewolf. This one is begging to be re-read.
Content/recommendation: Little language, some sex. Ages 18+
Genre: Paranormal werewolf romance, historical fiction
ISBN:9781402236969
Published: June 1st 2010 by Sourcebooks Casablanca
Rating:
Years ago, William Westfield and Pricia Hawthorne were in love—but Pricia's heart was broken and she refuses to let the scoundrel forget it. She knows now that he never committed the accused crime… but she can't bare to give her heart to him again. Even though she wants to.
Will has established his reputation as the best lover in six centuries. And he knows he did it to get Pricia out of his head. He still loves and adores her, snotty remarks and spirited personality and rule-breaking attitude and all. But when he is forced to visit the Hawthorne house to escort his sisters-in-law, he discovers that another man—another Lycan man—is pursuing her hand in marriage. Will doesn't think: The games are over. He decides that he will do anything and everything to keep the other werewolf away, and claim her forever.
This was, out of the three Westfield stories, my favorite. From the time I started reading, I couldn't put it down. It was fast-paced, exciting, and romantic. Although can I say that the covers—for this one and the others—could have been better? Still, I loved the story.
Will has always been my favorite Westfield, because of his happy, funny, warm, laid-back personality… and I loved seeing him desperately in love, trying his hardest to charm Pricia's socks off. Pricia is my favorite kind of heroine: the kind that can hold her own, especially with five brothers. Put Will and Pricia together, and you have an epic couple: They love each other, they hate each other. But they only hate each other because they love each other… a never-ending circle, a never-ending conversation, and a never-ending story… but a very satisfying ending to the book.
The plot was a lot more exciting than Dare's other werewolf stories—not to say the others aren't exciting. But this one surpassed the others. The other Lycan threatening Will's happiness added a good conflict to the story. Pricia's execution of torture on poor Will was both pitiful and hilarious. There was a war going on between the two wolves, and a war going on between the lovers, and it made for a stay-up-until-3-AM kind of book.
One of the reasons this one was probably my favorite, was because it wasn't sappy. I'm not saying the others are: but there was this running theme of the woman telling the man she was in love with him, and the man not admitting it until way too late, and causing problems because of it. There was none of that in The Wolf Next Door. Will straight up told Pricia that he loved her. He told her father he loved her. He told his brothers, and her brothers, that he loved her. And it made their romance much better and much more believable.
Magic, romance, heart-break, rivals, witches, and true love…all tied together with a sweet, naive, innocent little devil, and a very handsome werewolf. This one is begging to be re-read.
Content/recommendation: Little language, some sex. Ages 18+
Erratic.
To begin with I should point out that I listened to this rather than read it, and I have to say that I found (not for the first time with American audiobooks) that the narrator detracted from the story. They chose a woman with a very slow, drawling delivery which in some ways, I imagine, was intended to emphasise the sunny, laid-back easy-going stereotype of the late 60's hippy movement. Unfortunately the actual effect was to make the book drag.
Beyond that the content of the book itself was a mixed bag of the pleasurable and the pointless.
Where Cline excelles in this book is in her portrayal of a normal adolescent female trying to fit the role society has dictated for her. It's important to note that Evie is normal - she's not in the small group of incredibly popular, socially adept, fashionably en point and appropriately presented girls of the moment, nor is she so far away from the 'norm' that she is considered especially weird. She falls firmly within the parameters of 'normal' girls who are just struggling with the 'project of their girlhood'. Nor is it just girls that Cline succeeds in painting an accurate picture of - the tribulations of Evie's mother (newley divorced and struggling to realise the relevance and attraction that society expects from her again) speak to the ongoing and endless demands of a civilisation that puts endless pressure on it's female members to adhere to a very narrow and sharply defined criteria in order to be 'acceptable'. This pressure is something I imagine most female readers of this book will relate to, regardless of age, because, of course, it is still very much a daily aspect of most girls' and womens' lives; some possibly even recognising individual situations in which they have been at some stage in their life.
Understanding and empathising with Evie then, it is disconcerting to follow her absorption into the cult; her fascination with the older girls, the ones she later reflects upon as barely more than children themselves; the ease with which she is manipulated through her desire to please her new friends and to defy her mother; the lies sher emotional side is sold and accepts, even as her more rational mind recognises that they are lies...
These are the things Cline excelles in. I can honestly say I have never read an more accurate depiction of clumsy, normal female adolescence.
Unfortunately interspersed through these parts are large tracts of pointless and incredibly, horribly flowery waffle that don't really add anything else to the story other than to repeat, endlessly the message that 'the girl who was part of the cult' had a sad and unfulfilling life afterwards.The message that she screwed up could have been delivered successfully at the beginning and reinforced at the end - it didn't need that kind of repetition.
Overall I would say that for fans of general fiction (which I'm not), and teen readers (which I am also not), this is probably a good read, just expect it to drag at times. It's not one I shall be revisiting.
Beyond that the content of the book itself was a mixed bag of the pleasurable and the pointless.
Where Cline excelles in this book is in her portrayal of a normal adolescent female trying to fit the role society has dictated for her. It's important to note that Evie is normal - she's not in the small group of incredibly popular, socially adept, fashionably en point and appropriately presented girls of the moment, nor is she so far away from the 'norm' that she is considered especially weird. She falls firmly within the parameters of 'normal' girls who are just struggling with the 'project of their girlhood'. Nor is it just girls that Cline succeeds in painting an accurate picture of - the tribulations of Evie's mother (newley divorced and struggling to realise the relevance and attraction that society expects from her again) speak to the ongoing and endless demands of a civilisation that puts endless pressure on it's female members to adhere to a very narrow and sharply defined criteria in order to be 'acceptable'. This pressure is something I imagine most female readers of this book will relate to, regardless of age, because, of course, it is still very much a daily aspect of most girls' and womens' lives; some possibly even recognising individual situations in which they have been at some stage in their life.
Understanding and empathising with Evie then, it is disconcerting to follow her absorption into the cult; her fascination with the older girls, the ones she later reflects upon as barely more than children themselves; the ease with which she is manipulated through her desire to please her new friends and to defy her mother; the lies sher emotional side is sold and accepts, even as her more rational mind recognises that they are lies...
These are the things Cline excelles in. I can honestly say I have never read an more accurate depiction of clumsy, normal female adolescence.
Unfortunately interspersed through these parts are large tracts of pointless and incredibly, horribly flowery waffle that don't really add anything else to the story other than to repeat, endlessly the message that 'the girl who was part of the cult' had a sad and unfulfilling life afterwards.The message that she screwed up could have been delivered successfully at the beginning and reinforced at the end - it didn't need that kind of repetition.
Overall I would say that for fans of general fiction (which I'm not), and teen readers (which I am also not), this is probably a good read, just expect it to drag at times. It's not one I shall be revisiting.
Heather Cranmer (2721 KP) rated Oh Dear Silvia in Books
Jun 7, 2018
I received this book for free through the Goodreads Firstreads program.
(This review can also be found on my blog <a href="http://themisadventuresofatwentysomething.blogspot.co.uk">The (Mis)Adventures of a Twenty-Something Year Old Girl</a>).
I love Dawn French! I think she is such a funny woman!! I was so happy to have won a copy of her fiction book entitled Oh Dear Silvia from Goodreads. However, once I started reading the book, it became apparent that I wasn't going to enjoy it.
Silvia is in a coma after falling from a balcony and hitting her head. Throughout her time in hospital, she is visited by family, her best friend, her ex-husband, her nurse, and her cleaner. Each has their own story to tell however odd it may be. Throughout this book, we will find out about who Silvia is.
The title of this book really works. After reading the book, I would say it definitely fits well with the story.
The cover of this book is quite bland. The tree on the cover of the book does have significance, but it's just rather boring. It wouldn't entice me to pick up this book to see what it's about. Surely, the cover could've been a bit more decorative.
The setting takes place mostly in suite 5 which is Silvia's room in hospital. The world building is alright. The memories of each visitor help set the story.
I found the pacing of Oh Dear Silvia to be extremely and painfully slow. At some points, I found myself skim reading the especially boring parts. I couldn't wait for this book to be over. There's not even one bit in this book where the pacing picks up. There's no real plot in this book, so there's definitely no plot twists. The pacing definitely lets this book down.
The dialogue is comedic at times which I found to be a small reprieve from the slowness of this book. Ed's dialogue really bored me.
The characters are well-developed which I found to be a relief. Each chapter of the book is told by someone who knows Silvia. The main characters that have their own chapters being Ed, Cat, Jo, Cassie, Winnie, and Tia. Ed is by far the most boring character that could ever be in a book. All he mostly talks about is his boring trees. Whilst I did find him to be a well-developed character, I found him extremely dull and found myself wishing that he'd just stop talking. Winnie and Tia were my favourite characters. Winnie has a big heart, and it really comes across in this book. Tia is from Indonesia so has a hard time pronouncing Silvia's surname which always made me laugh!! I found Tia and Jo to be the characters that brought the humour, and they delivered! Cat is the high strung character, and Cassie is the angry daughter. Each character has a unique personality. Well done to Dawn French for making each character unique! Through each of the characters' stories, we learn more and more about Silvia.
Even with the strong character personalities and comedic timing, this book still fell flat. I felt that this book was missing a plot. Oh Dear Silvia comes across more as a memoir about Silvia then anything else.
I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone except those who need help falling asleep. Dawn French is great, but this book just didn't do it for me.
(This review can also be found on my blog <a href="http://themisadventuresofatwentysomething.blogspot.co.uk">The (Mis)Adventures of a Twenty-Something Year Old Girl</a>).
I love Dawn French! I think she is such a funny woman!! I was so happy to have won a copy of her fiction book entitled Oh Dear Silvia from Goodreads. However, once I started reading the book, it became apparent that I wasn't going to enjoy it.
Silvia is in a coma after falling from a balcony and hitting her head. Throughout her time in hospital, she is visited by family, her best friend, her ex-husband, her nurse, and her cleaner. Each has their own story to tell however odd it may be. Throughout this book, we will find out about who Silvia is.
The title of this book really works. After reading the book, I would say it definitely fits well with the story.
The cover of this book is quite bland. The tree on the cover of the book does have significance, but it's just rather boring. It wouldn't entice me to pick up this book to see what it's about. Surely, the cover could've been a bit more decorative.
The setting takes place mostly in suite 5 which is Silvia's room in hospital. The world building is alright. The memories of each visitor help set the story.
I found the pacing of Oh Dear Silvia to be extremely and painfully slow. At some points, I found myself skim reading the especially boring parts. I couldn't wait for this book to be over. There's not even one bit in this book where the pacing picks up. There's no real plot in this book, so there's definitely no plot twists. The pacing definitely lets this book down.
The dialogue is comedic at times which I found to be a small reprieve from the slowness of this book. Ed's dialogue really bored me.
The characters are well-developed which I found to be a relief. Each chapter of the book is told by someone who knows Silvia. The main characters that have their own chapters being Ed, Cat, Jo, Cassie, Winnie, and Tia. Ed is by far the most boring character that could ever be in a book. All he mostly talks about is his boring trees. Whilst I did find him to be a well-developed character, I found him extremely dull and found myself wishing that he'd just stop talking. Winnie and Tia were my favourite characters. Winnie has a big heart, and it really comes across in this book. Tia is from Indonesia so has a hard time pronouncing Silvia's surname which always made me laugh!! I found Tia and Jo to be the characters that brought the humour, and they delivered! Cat is the high strung character, and Cassie is the angry daughter. Each character has a unique personality. Well done to Dawn French for making each character unique! Through each of the characters' stories, we learn more and more about Silvia.
Even with the strong character personalities and comedic timing, this book still fell flat. I felt that this book was missing a plot. Oh Dear Silvia comes across more as a memoir about Silvia then anything else.
I wouldn't recommend this book to anyone except those who need help falling asleep. Dawn French is great, but this book just didn't do it for me.
Midge (525 KP) rated The Girl in the Corner in Books
Jan 13, 2019 (Updated Jan 13, 2019)
Very relatable (2 more)
Compelling, mature and thought-provoking
Great depth and plenty of humour
A Very Enjoyable Read - 4 Stars ! ⭐⭐⭐⭐
I was excited to read this latest novel by Amanda Prowse, having been lured by the attractive cover design and the very relatable premise of a woman who feels the need to re-evaluate her whole life, following her husband's guilty admission of his betrayal.
In the opening chapter, we are introduced to sixteen-year-old Rae-Valentine Pritchard, who is quiet and shy, when she meets the very confident, loud and gregarious Dolly Latimer, at College. The two girls quickly become best friends and are inseparable teenagers, laughing and joking their way through life. Dolly arranges a double date for the two of them, her brother Howard and his friend, Vinnie. Rae and Howard, so in love, get married two years later.
From her modest life in the suburbs to a splendid Georgian house in North London, Rae is now a devoted wife and mother to daughter Hannah and her son, George. Following a surprise party in celebration of their silver wedding anniversary, Howard confesses to a shocking betrayal of their marital vows that totally shatters Rae. She is forced to take stock of her position as wife and mother and also her role as a general dogsbody to the Latimer family restaurant business. Will her relationship with her best friend Dolly be affected?
Rae starts to think about all her teenage dreams that she once had - training as a chef and island-hopping in Greece. Can Rae give up on her shattered marriage, live life for herself, and be the real Rae-Valentine?
The planned anniversary celebration trip to Antigua still goes ahead, however, Dolly travels with Rae, instead of Howard. Dolly's divided loyalties and a handsome and friendly, young barman are just the starts of matters becoming even more complicated. In Antigua, Rae contemplates the possibility of continuing with her marriage and what this might mean for her friendship with the enthusiastic Dolly. A reconciliation with Howard may be much more difficult than everyone thinks.
This is a wonderful story for anyone who has always felt that they were 'the girl in the corner' at every social occasion or even for just being the quiet and reserved middle child in their own family, with which I can personally identify. Amanda Prowse has a lovely writing style that captures Rae’s tormented soul beautifully. I also liked the way other issues were explored, in particular, Rae’s parents and sister, Debbie-Jo, who felt like the humble relations compared to the wealthy and successful Latimers. Howard’s betrayal is the catalyst for all of the years of unspoken emotions, forcing Rae to face her feelings of being second best in the Pritchard family.
"The Girl In The Corner" is a hugely compelling, mature and thought-provoking piece of women’s fiction. Well paced from the very beginning and quick to get into the heart of the story, the novel has great depth and plenty of humour, however, I thought the ending was slightly rushed.
Overall, "The Girl In The Corner" is a well written, emotive book about love, loss, friendship, family and following your dreams that I highly recommend.
Thanks to NetGalley and Amazon Publishing UK for an advance copy of this book.
In the opening chapter, we are introduced to sixteen-year-old Rae-Valentine Pritchard, who is quiet and shy, when she meets the very confident, loud and gregarious Dolly Latimer, at College. The two girls quickly become best friends and are inseparable teenagers, laughing and joking their way through life. Dolly arranges a double date for the two of them, her brother Howard and his friend, Vinnie. Rae and Howard, so in love, get married two years later.
From her modest life in the suburbs to a splendid Georgian house in North London, Rae is now a devoted wife and mother to daughter Hannah and her son, George. Following a surprise party in celebration of their silver wedding anniversary, Howard confesses to a shocking betrayal of their marital vows that totally shatters Rae. She is forced to take stock of her position as wife and mother and also her role as a general dogsbody to the Latimer family restaurant business. Will her relationship with her best friend Dolly be affected?
Rae starts to think about all her teenage dreams that she once had - training as a chef and island-hopping in Greece. Can Rae give up on her shattered marriage, live life for herself, and be the real Rae-Valentine?
The planned anniversary celebration trip to Antigua still goes ahead, however, Dolly travels with Rae, instead of Howard. Dolly's divided loyalties and a handsome and friendly, young barman are just the starts of matters becoming even more complicated. In Antigua, Rae contemplates the possibility of continuing with her marriage and what this might mean for her friendship with the enthusiastic Dolly. A reconciliation with Howard may be much more difficult than everyone thinks.
This is a wonderful story for anyone who has always felt that they were 'the girl in the corner' at every social occasion or even for just being the quiet and reserved middle child in their own family, with which I can personally identify. Amanda Prowse has a lovely writing style that captures Rae’s tormented soul beautifully. I also liked the way other issues were explored, in particular, Rae’s parents and sister, Debbie-Jo, who felt like the humble relations compared to the wealthy and successful Latimers. Howard’s betrayal is the catalyst for all of the years of unspoken emotions, forcing Rae to face her feelings of being second best in the Pritchard family.
"The Girl In The Corner" is a hugely compelling, mature and thought-provoking piece of women’s fiction. Well paced from the very beginning and quick to get into the heart of the story, the novel has great depth and plenty of humour, however, I thought the ending was slightly rushed.
Overall, "The Girl In The Corner" is a well written, emotive book about love, loss, friendship, family and following your dreams that I highly recommend.
Thanks to NetGalley and Amazon Publishing UK for an advance copy of this book.
Kristy H (1252 KP) rated The Stories You Tell in Books
Jul 12, 2019
Private Investigator Roxane Weary and her brother, Andrew, are night owls, but it's still never good news when she gets a call from Andrew in the middle of the night. This time, Andrew tells her that he's just had the strangest visit from Addison Stowe, a young woman who used to work with him at the hotel where he tends bar. She seemed panicked and scared, begging to used Andrew's phone, and she disappeared almost as quickly as she arrived. At Andrew's pleading, Roxane starts looking for Addison, but she quickly realizes this is not a straightforward case. Soon the police are on Addison's trail--and Andrew's too. Add a dead cop to the mix, and it looks like Andrew could be mixed up in something serious.
"Clients hired me to find lots of things, and I took them all seriously--but people, most of all."
So, I won't lie. I have a particular affinity for one Roxane Weary, our sarcastic, intelligent, bisexual PI. This is the third book in Roxane's series, and I just love them all. You know how you can give your iPhone a name? Well, one of mine (I have one for work and one for personal use, okay) is named Roxane. This gritty PI has wormed her way into my heart. And I've said it before and I'll say it again--it's just so refreshing to have a bisexual character in mainstream fiction who is real. She's not a crazy person or a murderer, she's just a smart, complex character. The main character. And when Roxane is talking, it sounds like my own friends hanging out. It makes me happy.
"The state of straight people was troubling."
This book finds Roxane on a slightly personal quest, as her search for Addison gets real fast, once it looks like Andrew could be in some big time trouble. Her searching leads her to a shady nightclub--including its shifty manager--and some of Addison's suburban friends. We also, as mentioned, have a dead cop, meaning that Tom is in full force in this one. Tom is the former partner of Roxane's late father, and Roxane's old flame. I'm happy to report that there's plenty happening in Roxane's personal life--both with Catherine and Tom. Lots of sexual tension and witty banter on a variety of fronts. (And I am the only one who would be perfectly fine if Catherine just disappeared? Roxane deserves someone who treats her properly.)
Anyway, despite a cast of recurring characters, this one will standalone just fine. That being said, if you haven't read the first two books, I highly recommend them. The conversational first-person style Lepionka uses for Roxane is amazing and draws you in from the start. I adore Roxane's voice. (Partially because I deem her my kindred spirit--see below.)
"Apparently he was one of those people who listened to and deleted messages instead of just reading the transcription and ignoring it like I did."
Roxane is a witty, awesome, complex main character, and she's nearly impossible not to love. The story itself is dark and twisted, with plenty of twists and turns to keep you guessing. No gimmicks, just a good mystery. There's lots of humor, lots of surprises, and lots of Roxane, one of the best PIs around. 4.5 stars.
"Clients hired me to find lots of things, and I took them all seriously--but people, most of all."
So, I won't lie. I have a particular affinity for one Roxane Weary, our sarcastic, intelligent, bisexual PI. This is the third book in Roxane's series, and I just love them all. You know how you can give your iPhone a name? Well, one of mine (I have one for work and one for personal use, okay) is named Roxane. This gritty PI has wormed her way into my heart. And I've said it before and I'll say it again--it's just so refreshing to have a bisexual character in mainstream fiction who is real. She's not a crazy person or a murderer, she's just a smart, complex character. The main character. And when Roxane is talking, it sounds like my own friends hanging out. It makes me happy.
"The state of straight people was troubling."
This book finds Roxane on a slightly personal quest, as her search for Addison gets real fast, once it looks like Andrew could be in some big time trouble. Her searching leads her to a shady nightclub--including its shifty manager--and some of Addison's suburban friends. We also, as mentioned, have a dead cop, meaning that Tom is in full force in this one. Tom is the former partner of Roxane's late father, and Roxane's old flame. I'm happy to report that there's plenty happening in Roxane's personal life--both with Catherine and Tom. Lots of sexual tension and witty banter on a variety of fronts. (And I am the only one who would be perfectly fine if Catherine just disappeared? Roxane deserves someone who treats her properly.)
Anyway, despite a cast of recurring characters, this one will standalone just fine. That being said, if you haven't read the first two books, I highly recommend them. The conversational first-person style Lepionka uses for Roxane is amazing and draws you in from the start. I adore Roxane's voice. (Partially because I deem her my kindred spirit--see below.)
"Apparently he was one of those people who listened to and deleted messages instead of just reading the transcription and ignoring it like I did."
Roxane is a witty, awesome, complex main character, and she's nearly impossible not to love. The story itself is dark and twisted, with plenty of twists and turns to keep you guessing. No gimmicks, just a good mystery. There's lots of humor, lots of surprises, and lots of Roxane, one of the best PIs around. 4.5 stars.
Hadley (567 KP) rated Wastelands: Stories of the Apocalypse in Books
Aug 19, 2020
From the Book of Revelations to the Road Warrior; from A Canticle for Leibowitz to the Road, storytellers have long imagined the end of the world, weaving eschatological tales of catastrophe, chaos, and calamity. In doing so, these visionary authors have addressed one of the most challenging and enduring themes of imaginative fiction: the nature of life in the aftermath of total societal collapse.
Overall, there were a few good stories inside this book, but some of them seemed out of place, and there were ones that were just boring or not written well (like ending the story just to make it a short story). I only recommend this book to people who absolutely love dystopian stories, but for those who are just light readers of it, I don't think you'd enjoy it.
Being that this is a review for a handful of short stories, I am only going to mention the ones I really liked.
"Salvage" by Orson Scott Card
A long time after atom bombs have destroyed most of the Earth, a young man named Deaver finds out that there may be gold hidden within a Mormon temple, and he's willing to risk everything to get it.
I loved the story, the characters, and the playful banter between them.
"Bread and Bombs" by M. Rickert
During war time, children become curious about an odd neighbor who moves in. Parents demand that their children stay away from them because the neighbor's people are the reason so many people have died.
I liked that the story is through the childrens' eyes, not the adults.
"Dark, Dark Were the Tunnels" by George R. R. Martin
In the story that follows, you'll meet Greel. He is a scout of the People. He's penetrated the Oldest Tunnels, where the taletellers said the People had come from a million years ago. He is no coward, but he is afraid, and with good reason. You see, he's very used to being in the dark, but some visitors have come to the tunnels, and they've brought light with them...
I really liked the whole idea of people tunneling underground when nuclear war happens; there are not enough stories written about this!
"Never Despair" by Jack McDevitt
'Never Despair' tells the story of Chaka Milana, a woman who leaves her hometown in search of a storied place that holds the secrets of the Roadmakers, the almost-mythical builders of the concrete strips that cover the land, and the ruined cities with towers so high that a person could not ascend one in a day.
The story was so good that I wish it were a novel.
"Artie's Angels" by Catherine Wells
A post-apocalyptic society involving bicycles and young men.
This was probably my most favorite story out of the entire book!
"Inertia" by Nancy Kress
A story about the victims of a disfiguring epidemic who are interned in the modern equivalent of leper colonies.
Kress was able to make such a big picture out of very few characters, and in just a few pages. Really well-written.
"The End of the World As We Know It" by Dale Bailey
A lone survivor of an apocalypse attempts to grapple with the emotional dimension of his loss.
Just a really good story.
Overall, there were a few good stories inside this book, but some of them seemed out of place, and there were ones that were just boring or not written well (like ending the story just to make it a short story). I only recommend this book to people who absolutely love dystopian stories, but for those who are just light readers of it, I don't think you'd enjoy it.
Being that this is a review for a handful of short stories, I am only going to mention the ones I really liked.
"Salvage" by Orson Scott Card
A long time after atom bombs have destroyed most of the Earth, a young man named Deaver finds out that there may be gold hidden within a Mormon temple, and he's willing to risk everything to get it.
I loved the story, the characters, and the playful banter between them.
"Bread and Bombs" by M. Rickert
During war time, children become curious about an odd neighbor who moves in. Parents demand that their children stay away from them because the neighbor's people are the reason so many people have died.
I liked that the story is through the childrens' eyes, not the adults.
"Dark, Dark Were the Tunnels" by George R. R. Martin
In the story that follows, you'll meet Greel. He is a scout of the People. He's penetrated the Oldest Tunnels, where the taletellers said the People had come from a million years ago. He is no coward, but he is afraid, and with good reason. You see, he's very used to being in the dark, but some visitors have come to the tunnels, and they've brought light with them...
I really liked the whole idea of people tunneling underground when nuclear war happens; there are not enough stories written about this!
"Never Despair" by Jack McDevitt
'Never Despair' tells the story of Chaka Milana, a woman who leaves her hometown in search of a storied place that holds the secrets of the Roadmakers, the almost-mythical builders of the concrete strips that cover the land, and the ruined cities with towers so high that a person could not ascend one in a day.
The story was so good that I wish it were a novel.
"Artie's Angels" by Catherine Wells
A post-apocalyptic society involving bicycles and young men.
This was probably my most favorite story out of the entire book!
"Inertia" by Nancy Kress
A story about the victims of a disfiguring epidemic who are interned in the modern equivalent of leper colonies.
Kress was able to make such a big picture out of very few characters, and in just a few pages. Really well-written.
"The End of the World As We Know It" by Dale Bailey
A lone survivor of an apocalypse attempts to grapple with the emotional dimension of his loss.
Just a really good story.