I was loving this as much as The Wild Huntress to begin with, but the story took a curve near the middle and careened off into something I wasn’t so keen on with one too many easy deceptions and a very naive protagonist. 

I enjoyed the magical elements, especially as they were elemental, and the plot was nifty most of the way through, but then the ending was more of a ‘wait…what just happened…?’ sort of twist, rather than an ‘omg I never saw that coming!!’ thing—like it took you a bit by surprise, but not in a good way.
 
Trevor, though, man Trevor takes the cake. Best character of the bunch. 

A decent bit of folkloric entertainment, well-written and designed, but lacking the feel of magic I’d so enjoyed in her other work. 

… a lot of drive-by cameos by hero-like cooks. Random. These cooks and Trevor definitely held my interest.

Stark, honest, introspective, deeply philosophical and literary, entwining the most heartwarming and heartbreaking parts of being human, yet maintaining a realistic foot in a’ life goes on’ sort of melancholic hopefulness. A coming together of two nearby generations of sceptics and lovers, hellbent on loving and being loved in the face of fuss-ups and frequent failures.

We don’t judge a book by its cover, though the cover art should give us a clue as to the content, and while the cover of this novel in one way says it all, it leaves so much open to interpretation—as with all worthwhile art—and everything you think might be implied by this morbidly nihilistic contrary YOLO sort of cover art is explored—and so much more… 

An unexpected surprise, my fave anti-romance novel of the year. Deserves all the accolades.

What can I say? To start and end with: Nicola Walker’s narration. And that is worth its 5-stars right there. 

So, I planned on listening to this over the course of the week— you know, get home from work, turn on the audiobook, put on the kettle and really soak in this mystery with a cup of Earl Grey as I detox the day—but, no such luck. I started yesterday afternoon and reluctantly fell asleep only to rise this morning at 6am anxious to finish before the sun is even up. On both counts (writing and narration) a 5-star production with all the pointy jags and fuzzy feels. 

From a private island in South Carolina to the gold-rimmed towers of Dubai, the cosy pubs in the overcast streets of Axley to the blazing sun of St Lucia, this chase is heady and contorted, yet manages to be nostalgic, current, and thought provoking all at the once. Osman puts us into the dark, lush, pained and ridiculous thoughts of each character, transports us to sweaty saunas and stuffy pubs and crisp penthouses in glass towers, and lures us into an unexpected conglomeration of intimate awkward relationships and international criminal rings and murders, solved handily by a retired policeman reluctantly roped in by his feisty daughter-in-law. 

AND THEN OSMAN ENDS IT WITH THAT!! Looking forward to the follow-up…

Now, Mum knows what she’s getting for Christmas, but for this one, and I think it’s about time, I really should get her onto the audiobooks… 

This reshaped tale of adventure turns the second half of the epic of Beowulf into something for the battle-hardy, love-sick daughters.

3.4 for this fast read, with ample adventure, new romance, a social vibe, and a driving plot. The characters lacked the depth so expertly injected into the original cast and I wanted more from these people—they had potential, but never managed to quite win my soul and earn my agony. I know this setting well, but I feel the author relied too heavily on what we might already know of the Nordic setting of Beowulf, giving limited time and creativity to its development. However, the novel was worth the time it took to read with a well-crafted plot and plenty of alternate storylines that deviated from the original to keep me hooked. 

An entertaining reboot of the old familiar.

I liked it!

Holton’s writing is sharp, owlishly witty, intelligent, and provokes gut-giggles with her creation of bird-brained capers that she injects with outrageous hyperboles, misappropriations, and well-placed understatements. She weaves our chirping, warbling lovers in an flashy courtship dance like no other, hits on all the feminist issues of the mid-1800s, and as we fly through twists and turns in raucous encounters with madcap hilarity, she brings us to the flapping end of a flitting flight in superb satisfaction!

 

This is one of the most unique thrillers I’ve ever read. The whole idea of the inner castle as a reflection of the external, multiple voices from the system speaking within the one body, and the sick (sick!) idea of the hunt…so creative… What a wild, twisted mystery, hurtling towards its paranormal psychotic spinning end, full of deeper meaning and social politics and multiple issues that careen towards a violent storm of explosive fireworks. I loved how distinct and individual each personality was throughout, each with their own voice to contribute, or to confound. Addictive writing!

 

This would be an incredible challenge to put on screen, but then: Fight Club… 

Fast paced fantasy with a good dose of dark intrigue and sworn enemies reluctantly finding romance amid their clashing disagreements and battles. Monsters and magic together cast a dark shadow over the city, and all the twists and turns come entirely unexpected. A fascinating start to what promises to be an entertaining fantasy series. 

Ridiculous silly fun, this one is full of a lotta mo hot spicy scenes that are nothing dark or sensual but lightly bouncing with hilarity, sarcasm, humour and farce. It’s another bout of house-sailing pirates and their rivals—an order of religiously legalistic thieves—a Dogberry of a policeman, and a whole bunch of daft peasants, not to mention the shrugging royalty. This is a high-stakes ‘we-should-hate-each-other-but-go-on-and-please-hurry-and-please-never-mind-the-buttons’ kind of fast-paced romance that revisits all our favourites from the The Wisteria Society of Lady Scoundrels.

Holton is a cheeky storyteller with a sharp wit who thrives on irony and an unconventional use of classic literary culture to spin her saucy tale.

Just some damned good fun!

A sort of linking novel between Shōgun, Noble House, and Tai-Pan, Gai-Jin continues the story of the British in Japan with particular interest in business and politics in Hong Kong. Crossing these distinct cultures at a crucial junction in history, the story transports us into the minds of leaders and significant change-makers within each Asian political camp, and several of the Europeans and Americans in their midst.

Amid the heating political tension, a young French girl is trying to gain her footing in this man’s world. She juggles her desire for love and her need to secure her future in ways that men never have to consider—and Clavell relates her innermost thoughts with astounding insight. All these spiralling stories rotate around our anti-heroine, Angelique Richaud, like a series of spinning plates, poised to fall at any moment and destroy her tranquility and all hopes for her future.

It is apt that in what should be the tenderest scenes of human intimacy here, the lights are dimmed, the deed is done in violence or in secret shame, and the air often reeks of death or the threat of death. I found the contrast between unsatisfactory intimacy and a steady looming threat to be a poignant theme throughout this novel, and it makes it all the more real at the brink of our modern age. It is symbolic that the book opens with a dishonourable scene of murder which takes place out in the open, leading to a scene of rape in the shadows under the very noses of those who claim to be living in the light. This set the scene for the rest of this epic piece; if not exactly historically accurate (it is fiction), most definitely a realistic picture of 1862, at the dawning of the modern global age in Asia, most specifically in Japan.

It’s not my favourite of the series, though it remains some of the most fantastic story-telling of the 20th Century. This addition to the ‘Asian Saga’ series lacked the tenderness of those relationships the An-Jin developed with Toranaga-San and Mariko in Shōgun, and didn’t quite storm in with all the contrasting boldness of Dirk Struan and his vulnerable intimacy with May-May as in Tai-Pan. Equally, Toranaga Yoshi longs to live up to the ancient example of his forefather, yet never seems to get it right—and embarrassingly, the young Emperor is a shadow of what the man in the position had once been. Indeed, many of the characters in this novel were wont to be like the greater men and women who came in generations before, always striving and never quite feeling the satisfaction of arrival. Appropriately, as I read this incredible epic story, I also felt that I was always hoping for more, but constantly having to settle for a mediocre less.

An absolutely epic saga… these characters get under your skin, into your bones, squeeze your heart, manipulate your emotions… They are beautiful and treacherous and confounding and inspirational, and they own you for the duration of the two parts that make up this novel…and beyond. I’m even going to venture to say that this is one of those 5 star novels that makes the shelf with Anna Karenina and Vilette, with the names of Mary Shelley and Brontë, Dickens and Hardy, somewhere on the 20th Century end of the pile, near the top of the last 200 years of best novels. While not an overly poetic piece of prose, it has its breathtaking moments of literary imagery, traverses cultural lines of diversity with ease, draws us into its sensuality in intimate scenes of awkward tenderness, delivers us into battles and betrayals and beheadings with shocking pain, and definitely should be on the same shelf as some of the classic greats…