Picking up with Amalia Langford, daughter of the couple from The Smoke Thief, this entry in the Drakon series recaptures the magic, tradition, and sexual tension of that first book and channels it into a new relationship. Rue Langford's ruffian protegé Zane is all grown up, working in service of her dragon tribe when he's not scheming and thieving. Rue's teenage daughter Amalia believes herself devoid of the usual dragon gifts; instead, she seems to possess the ability to dream the future, a bleak future in which she helplessly gives her lover the keys to take down every member of her family. Her lover...who happens to be Zane. The two meet in Bohemia, both on a mission to find a legendary diamond with the power to make dragons submit, but with very different ends in mind.

Abé deftly builds sexual tension even as some of the more practical components of the story raise questions. In particular, the clairvoyance element of the story is poorly explained, and some vacillating on Zane's part makes his character feel inconsistent. It's a fun, sexy romp nonetheless.

DNF @ p. 52

I was so excited to read this, but I'm getting frustrated with the writing style, which I find really awkward.

In a post-Earth future, a far-flung group of star systems called the Interdependency is connected by the Flow, an interstellar pathway that no one quite understands. The worlds of the Interdependency utilize this shortcut through space to survive, trading goods across many light-years with the assistance of upper class familial trade guilds.

The Interdependency is about to be ruled by a new emperox, Cardenia Wu-Patrick, who grew up outside the cloistered world of the powerful. When she finds out that the Flow is beginning to collapse, she must determine how to take action to save as much of humanity as possible. Meanwhile, guild members fight for power and a physicist embarks on a journey to help the emperox.

John Scalzi writes accessibly and with charm. I feel, however, that this novel is largely forgettable- it features many characters with ranging interests, making it difficult to get attached to or sympathize with any of them. It's a light, quick read, and I enjoyed it, but I doubt that I'll rush to pick up its sequels.

Aza Holmes has trouble controlling her thoughts. She spirals into patterns of self destruction that are totally out of her control. In fact, she has a tendency to believe that her internal microbial environment holds the reins in her life. When her childhood friend Davis’ billionaire father goes missing, Aza begins new relationships and works to navigate her own mind so that she’ll be able to help others.

John Green handles the mental illness component of this novel skillfully, creating an interesting, and often difficult, reading experience that does not diminish Aza’s personhood in any way. Other aspects of the novel, however, miss the mark a bit: Davis’ poetic journal entries come across as over the top, whereas the tuatara element of the story remains peripheral when it could have been brought into focus. Actually, there are many elements of the story that feel thrown together, occupying the periphery while Aza’s mental struggle takes center stage. Perhaps there’s just too much going on here—for a largely philosophical novel, there are a whole lot of plot points that detract from the primary mental illness narrative. I can’t help but wish that Green had spent some more time paring down the story to its bare essentials.

A sweet, silly story about being observant and finding acceptance!

Wham bam! Lots of fun! Rarely do I enjoy rhyming picture books, but I felt that the rhythm of this book's text complemented its story so well!

The relocation of the Billy Goats Gruff to the city adds little to the story- and actually results in a bit of confusion as the reader is left to wonder why the rat lurking in the sewer pays specific attention to the goats crossing his street, when there are surely cars crossing overhead constantly?? The mixed media illustrations are gorgeous and original, though.

Despite wholly unimpressive platitudes about dreams, the illustrations of this book pop with whimsy!

Trying to soothe her gorilla friend Nilson helps keep Amelia from losing her own cool. And when Amelia reaches her breaking point, she can count on Nilson to be there for her, too.

I love the concept of a potty-mouthed baby bird, but I didn't love the moralistic delivery, especially as it seemed that the baby bird was shamed for saying the bad word without being told why, at least until the very end.