Beka Cooper has just buried her fiancé when she’s called in on a Hunt that threatens the royal family – and the safety of Tortall itself. Along with her partner Tunstall and her loyal scent hound Achoo, Beka must travel far outside of her comfort zone and untangle a conspiracy involving some of the most wealthy and powerful people in the kingdom – while she’s forced to question exactly who she can trust.

I really enjoyed the first two Beka Cooper books, and would have reread them before I read this one, but since all of my books are currently sitting in a storage unit in Red Hook, that was not an option, so I’m working from memory here. My thoughts on the series as a whole haven’t changed: I enjoy the procedural structure of the books and Beka herself, and I’ve always loved the worldbuilding of Tortall.

But I have to say this book disappointed me. For starters, there were a few places where it was hard to follow. Despite having read 17 books set there, I don’t have a detailed working map of Tortall in my head, so whenever our heroes went in depth about which path to take I got pretty lost, and the maps in the front weren’t much help. This may be reading comprehension fail on my part, but I’ve never had this problem with Pierce before, so I’m thinking not.

I also found Beka’s relationship with Farmer, the mage on their Hunt, to be fairly rushed. She doesn’t seem to like him at all for much of the book, and not in the kiss-kiss-slap-slap way – she just seems annoyed and uninterested. Don’t get me wrong – I found them super cute when the romantic aspect of their relationship started to develop. But it seemed to go from interest to engagement extremely abruptly.

Finally, a major spoiler: show

Mastiff was certainly compelling – I couldn’t put it down – and I liked a lot of it, but I found the above issues to be sticking points with me, particularly the last one. That’s why Mastiff only gets three and a half cupcakes. Sorry, Tammy! I still love you!

Now that Finn has Escaped, he thought everything would be different, but the Realm outside is no paradise. He’s supposed to be a long lost prince, but doesn’t remember anything about his past — and out of nowhere, another boy has appeared, claiming to be the very same prince. With no way to prove his claim, he, Claudia, and the scholar Jared can only hope to restore communication with Incarceron and find the missing Warden.

Things inside Incarceron aren’t stable, either. Attia and Keiro realize Finn either can’t or won’t get them out, and search for their own Escape. And even Incarceron itself is changing, seeking an Escape… but how can a prison escape itself? And exactly who, or what, is Sapphique?

This is the end of the series, and I can’t discuss it without spoilers, so beware! Uncut spoilers under the cut.

I absolutely loved Incarceron when I read it last year, and was very much looking forward to the story’s conclusion, so I picked up Sapphique pretty quickly after it came out in the U.S. In the end, I simultaneously enjoyed and was disappointed by it.

The big problem, for me, was that in the rush to explain and resolve what was happening with the world, all of the characters got lost. I really loved the worldbuilding in Incarceron: it was a creative dystopia with hints of both scifi and fantasy, intricate and exciting. It elevated the book from a good story to a great one, by playing a major role in the story. It was an antagonistic force in and of itself, another element for the characters to overcome — but it was a story about characters, about Finn and Claudia and their struggles. The problem is that in Sapphique, the worldbuilding totally takes over. The book is about the world, its backstory and the ramifications of things that happened generations ago, and everything that happens to the actual characters feels like windowdressing.

Case in point: the plot with Finn and the Pretender. It ought to be a big deal. There’s a fight over the throne, the evil, scheming queen is going to kill Claudia, there’s a civil war. That all sounds dramatic in theory, but when you get down to it, it does absolutely nothing. None of that in any way builds towards the book’s actual climax, and the climax renders the whole thing moot. The queen just dies. The war just stops. That doesn’t happen because Claudia and Finn outsmart them or outfight them, it happens because of stuff that Incarceron itself does, which they have no control over and didn’t even know was going to happen.

The characters inside the prison do a bit better than those outside. At least Keiro and Attia are working towards something, as they try to figure out what to do with the Sapphique’s glove. Though neither of them exactly makes things happen, at least it doesn’t feel like their whole storyline is futile — and they’re a pretty likeable duo. (Well, Attia is likeable; Keiro is kind of a terrible person, but darned charismatic and way more fun to read about than, say, Claudia.)

Also, it just reads as a weird, weird choice to me that in a young adult novel, featuring four teen protagonists… the only one who figures things out and directly causes anything to happen in the wizened mentor. I like Jared fine as a character, and at least he’s got a bit of depth to him, but I was seriously let down that out of everyone in the book, it wasn’t Claudia or Finn who solves things at the end. Nope, Jared does it. Seriously?

Basically the worldbuilding (with one caveat I explain in the next paragraph) was great, but Sapphique was lacking a peg to hang all that coolness on. Without a driving story like Finn and Claudia had in the first book, it all felt like a bit of a mess.

As for that world building caveat, I was pretty baffled by what happened with the Realm. I didn’t have the impression from the first book that the buildings themselves were illusions, but okay, I can buy that some kind of super high tech made the ruins functional, so they (and other random gadgets and whatnot) fell to pieces as soon as the power was gone. But I also thought that things like swords and banners and whatnot had been made “in Era,” meaning by peasants with no technology, the same way they would have in the 1800s. So how come all of those crumpled to dust, too? It was a relatively small thing, but it really baffled me and threw me out of the story at a pretty intense moment.

So with all that, like I said, I still enjoyed the book. Like Incarceron, it was well paced and exciting, and certainly picked up as it went on. As I mentioned, Attia and Keiro were enjoyable, and so was Finn (though Claudia was pretty unpleasant). The world inside Incarceron itself was still very cool, interesting and twisted, and the whole concept of the series is unique in the worlds of YA and dystopias. Those good things weren’t quite enough to save the book as a whole, though, so it earns three and a half cupcakes, though I’d say the two books taken together are a decent four.

After Gen’s bragging lands him in the king’s prison, the chances of escape look slim. Then the king’s scholar, the magus, needs the thief’s skill for a seemingly impossible task — to steal a hidden treasure from another land.

To the magus, Gen is just a tool. But Gen is a trickster and a survivor with a plan of his own.

(I usually write my own summaries of the book, but that was the official copy for it. It was pretty much perfect.)

One of my BFFs got me this one for my birthday, because she knows me very, very well, and if there’s any character archetype I can’t get enough of, it’s the fantasy rogue — and Gen, the eponymous thief, is a shining example. He’s a first person narrator, and his POV is delightful; he’s wry and intelligent and arrogant. Very much my fictional type, so the book was a lot of fun to read, even though it took quite awhile to get going.

The world building is also really fantastic. It’s vaguely Grecian, a fantasy world with a pantheon of gods and intricate mythology, groves of olive trees, and several kingdoms caught up in various intrigue. The richness of the world alone makes me want to read the rest of the series at some point.

That said, the reason this book didn’t rate higher for me is because I actually didn’t love parts of the ending. That’s super spoiler-tastic, though: show

That quibble obviously doesn’t bother most other readers, and fair enough. There are a lot of great things in this book, and I certainly think it deserves its awards and praise. I probably will pick up the rest of the series at some point, so from me, it gets a very sold three and a half cupcakes.

After dying in a car crash, Lia’s brain was downloaded into a mech body — but things aren’t going so well for the mechs these days. After a fellow mech with her face went on a killing spree and a group called the Brotherhood devoted itself to destroying all mechs, Lia’s been forced to try and do some good PR — but it isn’t enough. Someone’s created a mech virus that shuts down and erases anyone infected. Now, to save all the remaining mechs, she has to team up with extremist Jude, her estranged younger sister… and the one person who hates her most in the world.

Since this is the last book in a trilogy, it’s kind of impossible to respond to without spoiling. So: major spoilers after this cut!

I reviewed Skinned, the first book in this trilogy, shortly after it came out, and read but totally failed to review the second. Whoops. As for the third… well. The more series I read, the more empathy I feel for the folks who write them. There are so many expectations built up that there’s no way to satisfy every reader out there, let alone wrap up every single thread. And unfortunately, for me, Wired falls somewhat towards the let-down ending side of the scale. That is to say, I really enjoyed the book as a book; but as the ending of a series, I was disappointed.

My favorite thing about Wired by far was Zo, Lia’s younger sister. The first book gives them an interesting dynamic — Zo was supposed to be in the car that crashed, but Lia had agreed to go instead, so Zo had to deal with the guilt of living while Lia changed (or died, depending on your view). They fought all the time growing up, but Zo obviously came to hate Lia as a mech. Lia spent most of the second book away from her family, but in this one she’s reunited with them, and the Big Family Revelation changes her dynamic with Zo entirely. I absolutely loved Zo in this book, and the relationship between the sisters was great.

The thing is, though, the Big Revelation also presents a totally reversal in the characterization of Lia’s parents. Through the first two books, her mother is shown as someone weak-willed who cries a lot; her father is strict, believes in hard work and contribution to society, and detests cheaters and thieves. As much as I enjoyed getting to see Lia’s mom kick some butt near the end, the same reveal that led to Lia and Zo’s relationship, the problem was, I wasn’t convinced by the event that flipped everything on its head. It seemed less like the reveal of an amazing secret and more like a narrative convenience.

More disappointing for me was the way the climax played out. It pulled from one element earlier in the book, which, as I’d read it, had me scratching my head a little. While it worked fine, it hadn’t felt as connected to the story overall, so when the climax played out I looked back and went, “Ah ha, that was why that random discovery was made.” But the climax itself is basically the very end of the book and happens very abruptly. As I reached it, I was shocked by how few pages there were left, because it seemed like there was still so much to resolve. And… well, very little actually got resolved.

What I mean is that, while the story ends, aside from happening very suddenly, it doesn’t feel like the series’ major question is answered or its arch is concluded. The central question in the series is about Lia’s personhood. Plenty of people think she’s just a machine, programmed to think it’s a person, but of course as readers we’re with her on the journey and side with her, that she is a person. Instead of ending that conflict, it’s side-stepped; the events that happen are all exciting, but there’s no sense that it tied back into the earlier question — and it’s an ending where Lia transforms, literally, from the character she’s been for thee books into something else entirely.

So I wasn’t thrilled. The book was a fast, interesting read, and the idea of the computer virus shutting down the mechs was interesting. But the book was probably the weakest of the three, and gets three and a half cupcakes, though the series as a whole is a solid four.

Mae’s life has changed forever now that she knows about magic — about demons and magicians — but now that her magic-wielding brother Jamie is safe, she thought they were done with that world forever. Then she sees Jamie cavorting with Gerald, the magician who took over the Circle trying to kill them, and she has to call the brothers Alan and Nick again. Except they’ve changed: Nick’s new powers are limitless, and there’s some kind of wedge between him and Alan now. Now, Mae has to figure out what the magicians are up to, how to get Jamie away from them, and how to save Nick from the magicians too — and save Nick from himself.

Wow, that was a crap summary. Sorry!

When I reviewed The Demon’s Lexicon earlier this year, I wrote about my biggest issue with the book being the narrator, Nick:

I think Brennan walks a very fine line with Nick. He’s not a character people should be able to identify with, but having a completely non-empathetic protagonist could also make it hard to enjoy the story, since it’s entirely told through Nick’s POV. ….

Nick’s POV is uncaring, so it isn’t like he asks other characters what they’re feeling or why, how they’re doing, how they got to be the way they are. Because he never gets into anyone else’s head — he just doesn’t care — the reader doesn’t get to, either. I felt somewhat cut off from the supporting cast throughout, which included characters I probably would have otherwise been able to empathize with.

So hey, it turns out I was dead right! I mean, about my preferences as a reader, if nothing else. This book is from Mae’s POV, rather than Nick’s, and I liked reading about her much better. Mae is an interesting character; she’s the only one of the four protagonists (or the villains, for that matter) who doesn’t have any useful training: she’s not magic like Nick and Jamie, and she’s not a trained fighter like Alan. But she’s bold and determined to get all of them (especially Jamie) through things alive. She plans, she finds allies, she risks herself to save other people. All that is pretty great, and she makes for a dynamic protagonist. Which is great! Which is why part of the climax really bugged me.

show

There was one other plot point near the end I took some issue with: show

There was one serious positive, though. I’m always pleased when I run across a book with a GLBT character who’s a) well written, and b) whose sexuality is a facet of the character, and not his or her entirety. I felt that Jamie was well done in that regard — him being gay was certainly A Big Deal, in that it came up repeatedly, but I thought it was interesting that the big coming out scene was about magic, not sexuality. And I liked that hey, Mae wasn’t the only one who made stupid choices because of her crush on a not-so-great guy.

Speaking of romances, I was pretty… meh about Mae and Nick, overall. I’m not a shippy reader, and broody bad boys don’t do it for me overall. I wasn’t made uncomfortable by their dynamic, but I can certainly see a case for Nick leaning towards Cullen-esque behavior. It didn’t ping my radar as I read, but in retrospect I’m not thrilled by it.

As a whole, this book was a reasonably fun read, but it also read very much as a second book to me — its primary purpose was to put things in play, move characters from Point A at the end of the first book to Point B for the series climax. (I read it a month or so ago and could barely remember what the actual plot was when I started this review.) Brennan’s writing and world building remain great, and Mae was a fine character. I’ll definitely pick up the series conclusion when it comes out, so the book earns three and a half cupcakes.

By Carrie Ryan [Goodreads]

Mary’s village is the last village, the only village, haven to only living people left in the entire world. Beyond the village fences is the Forest of Hands and Teeth, full of undead Unconsecrated who hunger for human flesh, and only the word of the Sisterhood keeps the village on God’s path and protected. But Mary stumbles on to a secret, a stranger from Outside, which means the Sisterhood has been lying for generations. But what are the Sisters covering up — and what is outside the Forest?

There’s some general spoilery stuff unhidden under the cut.

When I was in sixth grade I read a Goosebumps book and it scared the crap out of me, and I think this is the first horror novel I’ve read since. But I figure that zombies fall close enough to sf/f to review here, right?

The book’s biggest weakness is pacing. The first half flounders a bit, as Mary deals with the loss of her parents (both zombie-fied), being turned away by her brother, being forced into Sisterhood because no one will propose to her and then getting proposed to by the wrong brother (there’s a love triangle through much of the book, which is really not my thing at all), and some mystery and intrigue, but it took a really long time for me to get into it. Basically what finally snapped me into the narrative is the zombie attack roughly halfway through the book, when the Unconsecrated breach the fences and Mary and her companions are forced out of the village. That is a long time to settle in. And even after that point it still drags in parts.

The characters also wavered in quality. Overall, I liked Mary; I liked that despite the love triangle, she was driven by a need for more, I liked that she was human enough to freeze up at a few key moments but keep moving at others. She’s a first-person narrator, so it isn’t shocking that she was the strongest character. But I didn’t buy the love triangle, or her relationship with her best friend, because we never really saw why any of their relationships were happening the way they were. Mary loved Travis for… some reason? I never got much of a sense of why she was so desperate for him — or even why she wanted him over Harry, since I never got much of a feel for either one. Ditto for her friend Cass; they have a lovely moment near the end, but we never see them as friends before all of the tension between them, so I never cared much about their friendship. (That said, her relationship with her brother is a bit better, since it actually grows and changes through the book, so I got it on a deeper level.)

Final frustration: the book raises a lot of questions about their society in general and the Sisterhood in particular, some of which I’ll stick behind a spoiler cut: show

But with all that said, what the book did well it did very well. I am a wimp when it comes to horror, but I think this book is legitimately scary. Like, I could only read it in small chunks, and not too soon before bed, because I needed a few minutes of daylight and sunshine and non-zombified human contact after a spell of reading. Two other words come to mind: claustrophobic and unrelenting. That’s what makes it all work, I think; the antagonistic force will never stop coming and are always right there with only a fence separating them from the antagonists — and in some places the path is so constrictive that they can only walk in single-file, with zombies on either side of them trying to break through and kill them. And as for unrelenting, it isn’t just the zombies; it’s that Ryan doesn’t pull punches with how death-filled this world is — it isn’t just that several characters die along the way, it’s that as I edged closer to the end, every time Mary faced a group of zombies I wondered if maybe Mary was going to die. Not in a general, “Oh, the hero is in danger,” way, but because despite being in the first person, it seemed like a totally viable way for the story to end. There are moments of hope worked into the narrative, but it is freaking bleak. Really well-done bleak, but bleak.

Overall, I think this book was not really my cup of tea — the world building was well put together, but not enough questions were answered to satisfy me as a reader; and while the horror elements were very well done, they aren’t something that makes a book for me, personally. I’m on the fence about the companion; curious, but not enough so to spend money on it. So: three and a half cupcakes.

Charlotte and Zee have had enough Greek god-based weirdness in the past few months to last a lifetime, but they know they’ve got more coming, especially when their mortal enemy Philonecron gets his hands on Poseidon’s trident, and gets it in his head to take over the universe. Now Philonecron’s wreaking havoc, Zeus is seriously considering eliminating humans entirely, and Charlotte and Zee have to sort through a secret society, an ancient weapon, and a prophesied “secret son” before they can even think about hurdling the final obstacle: Mount Olympus itself.

I posted about the first two books in this trilogy, The Shadow Thieves and The Siren Song, waaaay back in the early days of this blog, and waited quite a long time for this one to finally see print. I won’t really go into detail about the basic plot/prose/character stuff, because I already said it in the earlier review, and all of it still stands: the prose and pacing are uneven and the villain isn’t great, but the take on the gods is often laugh-out-loud funny, and Charlotte and Zee, the protagonists, are completely lovable.

What Ursu added with this book was a lot more soul-searching, and attempts at some sort of deeper theme. Unfortunately, there’s kind of way too much of it. Charlotte and Zee spend an awful lot of time harping repeatedly on concepts that never bothered them before (Charlotte feels guilty about worrying her parents, Zee feels passive and guilty about endangering Charlotte), and while it’s certainly likely that these feelings would come up after the events of the first two books, the fact that they never thought about them before and are now completely preoccupied with them, going on for pages and pages about the same thing over and over again, is frustrating for the reader.

Ursu also seems to be, as I said above, looking to pull out a moral or three, but it’s more just sort of grabbing at any moral in reach than a clear progression. There’s a lot of discussion of ends and means, and whether the sacrifice of one person is an acceptable price to pay for the salvation of humanity. Ursu’s conclusion is very clear: no, if you’re sacrificing someone else; yes, if you’re sacrificing yourself. While that’s certainly a common conclusion and not one that I necessarily think is wrong, I kind of wish the other side had gotten the chance to weigh in more. Maybe it’s because I was reading the TVTropes pages for The Spock and The McCoy right before I read that part of the book, but I think the idea that the needs of the many sometimes outweigh the needs of the few is a fair position to take, and I wish it had been considered instead of instantly rejected. (Again, I’m not taking a position myself, I just think it’s a debate that deserves equal arguments from The Spock and The McCoy before The Kirk makes a decision. Also, I’m sorry for linking you to TVTropes, and I’ll meet you back here to finish the review after you spend three hours there.)

There’s also a lot of talk about the difference between justice and revenge. Fine, great, awesome, no problem. Except, well. It’s pretty spoilery, but show

And there’s the question of knowledge, and free will. Our heroes are seeking the fire of the gods, which Prometheus originally gave to mankind; if they use it, all of humanity will be aware of the gods. The Prometheans, a secret society dedicated to protecting the world from the gods, are also dedicated to keeping the gods a secret, which they figure is the same thing. Charlotte asks why humans don’t have a right to know, and never gets an answer. Then…okay, sorry, another spoiler: show

These are all interesting questions. I have no problem with any of them, or all of them, being present in the book, but I do have a problem with the way they were handled, and the fact that they sort of rambled all over the place, crashing into each other willy-nilly. I really felt like the book could have used some serious streamlining in the editing process.

All that aside, I did enjoy it. Like I said, parts of it were very funny, and I adore Charlotte and Zee. The actual adventure parts of the plot were exciting; I didn’t want to put the book down, which is always a plus. And the very real love Charlotte and Zee have for each other hit me right where it counts, so points for that. (I have a weakness for cousins who live in the same house and are best friends, especially if they are a boy and a girl. It is a very strange, specific weakness, I know.)

The Immortal Fire certainly had its problems, but it was a fun book, and so it gets three and a half cupcakes. Not bad!

Fire is a human monster with the power to captivate people, to slip inside their minds, to force them to believe what she wants — a power she fears, because of all of the evil her father used his power for. But when her country is in danger and the King himself pleads for help, she’s forced to confront her worst fear: herself. Is there a way for her to use her powers for good, or is she destined to be the monster everyone calls her?

I really wanted to love this novel. I absolutely adored Graceling, Cashore’s debut novel; Fire is set on another continent on the same world and ties in a little bit. But this book just didn’t quite do it for me. I think that’s because Fire, as a character, just didn’t do it for me, and there wasn’t much to the book except for Fire. Fire isn’t a bad character or anything, but she was too passive to carry a book of this length along. The main conflict of the book is internal — should she use her power or not? — and until she makes that choice she’s almost entirely reactive, swept along by what few events there are. It makes her come across as pretty wishy-washy, and while that was happening, there wasn’t enough sense of urgency in the external plot to keep me engaged.

The external plot wasn’t terribly engaging, either — political intrigue, and a lot of talk about a potential war, but as I said, lacking much sense of urgency. Then there was a kidnapping sequence, which at least was a major thing happening, but it felt pretty pasted on, awkwardly shoehorned in to give the book a tie to Graceling. It didn’t really need that — it was cool to get the Graceling villain’s backstory, but that section of the book really had nothing to do with anything else.

That said, there were some interesting things happening in the book. A lot of it seemed to be an exploration of female sexuality — Fire’s monster powers make her irresistible and desirable, but that’s a real problem more often than not. Other people (particularly men) harass her, desperately wanting her whether she wants them or not, and a lot of them simply feel entitled to possess her. (The interplay between Fire and her best friend/occasional lover Archer was really good in that regard — he did care about her, but also was jealous and protective of her in a way that was inappropriate, and she often let him because it was easier than fighting; but at the same time she resented it and wanted him to respect her, not just desire her. Great dynamic, one of the best parts of the book.) Plenty of people are in love with Fire, but there are also plenty who hate her — because she is an object of desire (very clearly an object in those cases) and they can’t have her. And the juxtaposition of Fire and her father was intriguing — he was also a monster, also always an object of desire, but as a man he was able to own and control his sexuality, and able to revel in it; as a woman, those same things caused Fire trouble, put her in danger, and made her afraid of her own sexuality.

Ultimately, I don’t think I agree on the book’s take on sexuality — as with everything else in the book, Fire is passive throughout, and never really hits a point of coming in to her own or having her own desires. She’s also obsessed with the idea of children, and how she will never have any, but questions her very existence if the point of her being alive and female isn’t to have babies. I’d have been a lot more frustrated by that, but the book wasn’t actually message-y about it; it read as more of an exploration of a lot of questions about sexuality and being a woman — as Fire’s opinions and conclusions, not as a real statement of How Things Are for the readers. (Though I would have liked to see an opposing position, personally, but it was a very limited third-person POV, so we never saw anyone but Fire’s perspective on anything.)

All that said, I did speed through the book; Cashore’s writing is enjoyable, and her world-building is fantastic. So the book slides in at three and a half cupcakes, a respectable grade, though I hope that her next book will pick up in action again.

Generations ago, Svein and the other great heroes fought back the Trows and made the valley safe for humans. Now there is peace and no need for heroes, which is a serious disappointment for Halli, younger son of the House of Svein. An adventurous misfit, he deals with his restlessness by playing practical jokes – until one of his jokes touches off a disastrous string of consequences. Now, with the help of the beautiful and fearless Aud, he must find his place and his purpose within the valley before his actions bring destruction down on them all.

Heroes of the Valley is a much more standard fantasy than Stroud’s previous books, The Bartimaeus Trilogy, with its medieval, Viking-esque setting and its misfit hero who longs for the adventurous days of yore. In fact, it’s a little too standard. One of the things I loved about Bartimaeus was how unusual it was, and Heroes is pretty by-the-book.

That’s not to say that it’s bad. Stroud is an excellent writer, and he puts across a standard fantasy novel well. Halli starts out fairly unlikable, and, as subsequent events humble and mature him, becomes an endearing if not terribly unique protagonist (although I do wish he’d displayed more of the mischievous nature that we were more told about than shown). The villains are properly threatening, and yet they are not particularly prominent in the book, which is surprising until you consider that the book is much more about Halli coming to terms with himself and his society than it is about him fighting any outside force. The minor characters, although tending to fall into Stroud’s “everyone is heartless and unsympathetic towards the hero” mold, were also well done.

Aud, for her part, reminded me of nothing so much as Eilonwy from The Chronicles of Prydain. She had the same fun-loving, fearlous outlook and the same acerbic lack of patience with the protagonist’s clumsy attempts at gallantry. Again, the usual tropes were trotted out: she defies society’s mores, her father’s trying to marry her off, the hero tries to keep her from the climatic battle and won’t admit that it’s because he loves her. I did like that she does what she wants throughout and is reasonably clever and capable, but I felt like I was waiting all book for her to sort of jump out at me with something notable, and she never really did.

I did enjoy the world building. The myths themselves were pretty standard, but the fact that the different Houses all insisted that their hero was the central figure in them was interesting and used to good effect, both for humor and inter-House tension. And the reveals at the very end were brilliant.

Still and all, Heroes of the Valley was basically a standard fantasy novel, solid and well-written, but nothing to write home about. Three and a half cupcakes.

Title: Nancy Drew and the Secret of the Old Clock
Author: Carolyn Keene
Genre: Mystery
Pages: 180
Summary: Nancy investigates a lost will that will benefit various virtuous spinsters and orphans, and eats several slices of cake.
Thoughts: Oh, Nancy. With only 50 minutes left I went for an easy reread, and Nancy’s super-polite badassery was as charmingly ridiculous as always.

Three and a half cupcakes

Final book/page count/hours tally coming soon, plus payment info for sponsors.