Reading The Riot Act

Friday, 23 January 2015

Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater

Warning: Spoilers! (duh.)

There is danger in dreaming. But there is even more danger in waking up.

Blue Sargent has found things. For the first time in her life, she has friends she can trust, a group to which she can belong. The Raven Boys have taken her in as one of their own. Their problems have become hers, and her problems have become theirs.

The trick with found things though, is how easily they can be lost.

Friends can betray.
Mothers can disappear.
Visions can mislead.
Certainties can unravel

I should probably mention that I did not finish this book. I wanted to, my god, did I want to. I'm used to Stiefvater's style and honestly it takes around 100 pages to get into it. Though after 150 pages I just could not get into it and that really stressed me out. It's not an easy read and not good for when you have reader's block. I will finish this eventually but right now I just cannot get in the right mind set.

Plotwise, the story got going a lot quicker than previous books. There was no build up it just sort of rolls right on from the previous one, but for the life of me could I remember anything that happened. I feel as if this series is washed up for me. It promised a kiss that would kill and four books later it hasn't fulfilled its promise. It is irritating. So irritating. I'm sick of them wandering around looking for Glendower, I am sick of it. I didn't begin this series thinking about Welsh frickin' gods. It was sold as a starcrossed lovers story (and obviously I love that, I love seeing how they unfold) but enough is enough.

Every page I'm just like, get to it Stiefvater, make with the death
smoochies!

Maybe I'm being too harsh. The series has many stellar attributes, one being Blue herself. She's badass and cool with a slight feminist agenda. I just love her, I love her so much but apart from Gansey and Ronan. None of the other characters stick in my mind. There's maybe a ghost guy and is there another one? I just cant tell, there's too many people in this Raven Boys gang!

I just can't get into it anymore. I felt this series promised something that it hasn't given and that is infuriating.

This was a way more negative review than I'd intended. My bad.

Happy Reading.

Wednesday, 21 January 2015

wrap up

Birthday Book Haul!

Louise Wilkes 10:02:00 0

Warning: Spoilers! (duh.)

All hail the beauty of birthdays. Naturally as with every birthday I was given books and gift cards as presents. However these two are by far my favourites.

The dual authored Frozen by Melissa De La Cruz and Michael Johnston attracted my attention a few weeks ago in Waterstones, naturally due to my Disney's Frozen obsession. It's been described as a futuristic Game of Thrones which is right up my street. I am so excited to read this and may even push another book out of this months TBR, but we shall see.

Welcome to New Vegas, a city once covered in bling, now blanketed in ice. Like much of the destroyed planet, the place knows only one temperature—freezing. But some things never change. The diamond in the ice desert is still a 24-hour hedonistic playground and nothing keeps the crowds away from the casino floors, never mind the rumors about sinister sorcery in its shadows.

At the heart of this city is Natasha Kestal, a young blackjack dealer looking for a way out. Like many, she's heard of a mythical land simply called “the Blue.” They say it’s a paradise, where the sun still shines and the waters are turquoise. More importantly, it’s a place where Nat won’t be persecuted, even if her darkest secret comes to light.

But passage to the Blue is treacherous, if not impossible, and her only shot is to bet on a ragtag crew of mercenaries led by a cocky runner named Ryan Wesson to take her there. Danger and deceit await on every corner, even as Nat and Wes find themselves inexorably drawn to each other. But can true love survive the lies? Fiery hearts collide in this fantastic tale of the evil men do and the awesome power within us all.

I also purchased The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight by Jennifer E. Smith. I had seen a lot of reviews on Goodreads. I decided to take a chance. I'm not generally a big fan of contemporary YA. I find them a bit hit and miss but the cover is so pretty and the narrative seems pretty harmless and actually rather charming.

Imagine if she hadn’t forgotten the book. Or if there hadn’t been traffic on the expressway. Or if she hadn’t fumbled the coins for the toll. What if she’d run just that little bit faster and caught the flight she was supposed to be on. Would it have been something else - the weather over the Atlantic or a fault with the plane?

Hadley isn’t sure if she believes in destiny or fate but, on what is potentially the worst day of each of their lives, it’s the quirks of timing and chance events that mean Hadley meets Oliver...

Set over a 24-hour-period, Hadley and Oliver’s story will make you believe that true love finds you when you’re least expecting it.

In other news I have finished Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater and with my university assignments submitted and out of the way, my dedication to all things book has been revived.

Stay Tuned and Happy Reading.

Monday, 5 January 2015

tbr

New Year! New TBR!

Louise Wilkes 15:24:00 0

Warning: Spoilers! (duh.)

New Year, New TBR! That's right. With oncoming deadlines I am both in need of a break from reading for that oh so good extra study time! and mass amounts of reading,to keep my hair from falling out. Obviously I prioritised the latter. With my reading being somewhat sketchy this past month with Christmas Shenanigans and my very important sleeping and eating cake routine, I am very excited to get back on with it. So let's crack on!

Assuming it arrives and being super excited about it. I will be reading The Mime Order by Samantha Shannon. Sequel to The Bone Season, I am sure it will be delightful. I pre-ordered it approximately 8 billion years ago and it is due to arrive the 27th of this month. Fingers Crossed!

Paige Mahoney has escaped the brutal penal colony of Sheol I, but her problems have only just begun: many of the fugitives are still missing and she is the most wanted person in London. As Scion turns its all-seeing eye on Paige, the mime-lords and mime-queens of the city’s gangs are invited to a rare meeting of the Unnatural Assembly. Jaxon Hall and his Seven Seals prepare to take center stage, but there are bitter fault lines running through the clairvoyant community and dark secrets around every corner. Then the Rephaim begin crawling out from the shadows. But where is Warden? Paige must keep moving, from Seven Dials to Grub Street to the secret catacombs of Camden, until the fate of the underworld can be decided. Will Paige know who to trust? The hunt for the dreamwalker is on

I will also be finishing off Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater. The book in which I horribly abandoned over Christmas. These books always take me about 100 pages to get into it so I withold all judgement until then, but I'm sure it will be worth the effort.

There is danger in dreaming. But there is even more danger in waking up. Blue Sargent has found things. For the first time in her life, she has friends she can trust, a group to which she can belong. The Raven Boys have taken her in as one of their own. Their problems have become hers, and her problems have become theirs.
The trick with found things though, is how easily they can be lost.
Friends can betray.
Mothers can disappear.
Visions can mislead.
Certainties can unravel.

Writer of the Matched trilogy Ally Condie, has returned with her one off book, Atlantia. I like water, I like Atlantis, I like Ally Condie. This is gonna rock! (Plus, I already read the first chapter.)

For as long as she can remember, Rio has dreamt of the sand and sky Above—of life beyond her underwater city of Atlantia. But in a single moment, all her plans for the future are thwarted when her twin sister, Bay, makes an unexpected decision, stranding Rio Below. Alone, ripped away from the last person who knew Rio’s true self—and the powerful siren voice she has long hidden—she has nothing left to lose. Guided by a dangerous and unlikely mentor, Rio formulates a plan that leads to increasingly treacherous questions about her mother’s death, her own destiny, and the complex system constructed to govern the divide between land and sea. Her life and her city depend on Rio to listen to the voices of the past and to speak long-hidden truths.

I am aware my TBR is a little short this month but with deadlines, you can't be too careful. My reading challenge for the year is a measly 60 as I'll be hard at work and university until April. But I'm sure I'll crack this summer wide open and so a reading marathon type thing.

I've also made a resolution this year to post ATLEAST once, every week. I was a bit inconsistent last year, disappearing for a fortnight and re-emerging with dozens of posts. This is the year of consistency. Wow, that's sound bland - but it won't be.

Happy Reading!

P.S It's my 21st birthday on the 17th of this month! EXCITES!

Friday, 2 January 2015

My Favourite Books of 2014.

Louise Wilkes 08:17:00 2

This has been a pretty awesome year for reading, personally. In the chaotic time that was the Christmas season, I inched my way to finish my reading challenge for 2014.

There has been a bit of negativity surrounding the yearly reading challenge, and I disagree it takes the fun out of reading and personally I don't take it seriously enough to warrant it pressurising me. For me personally, it's a promise, a casual promise, that reading will be a part of my life this year, and I think that pretty damn important.

And across my many months of book appreciation, I've read some lackluster lit I tossed into the trash (figuratively) and some breathtaking books that have made it onto this. My 2014 favourites list, enjoy.

10. Attachments by Rainbow Rowell

I feel as though this book should be higher in my list, but after Landline I'm still holding a grudge. 2014 wasn't the easiest year for me. After the terrible ending of a relationship that was messy and only one party was aggressively hurt (me.) I was feeling very pessimistic, very angry and maybe even a bit lost. Attachments was what made me realise I wasn't in the wrong, I wasn't being unreasonable to expect someone to love me, to expect someone to want to be around me and not act like I was a burden. I don't think without this book I would have had the courage to meet my boyfriend or meet anyone again. It should be higher in the list...but Landline though. Eff off Neil.

9. Panic by Lauren Oliver

Panic hits my top ten for a number of outstanding reasons, but primarily because I didn't expect much from it. It's difficult for a writer to come off a series and deliver a stellar standalone, but By George! she did it. And what a hell of a standalone it was.

8.The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken

In 2014 was the first year I picked up the Darkest minds series. This has been a great series and I will be reading the final book in 2015.

7. Cress by Marissa Meyer

I have fallen so hard for this series. Cress was really where I became really involved with the story on a new level. This is when the jump up and down, my god I'm so excited feeling kicked in and I cannot wait for the release of Fairest and Winter.

6. Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor

I began this series at the start of the year and will finish in 2015, but the first two books were so exciting and different to anything I'd read this year, it had to be in my list.

5. The Infinite Sea by Rick Yancey

The Infinite Sea was so unlike it predecessor, which I loved. We waited so long for it and it did not disappoint in any way than it was over too quickly. Now all we have to do is wait approxiamtely 2.5 billion years for the next one.

4. The Grisha series by Leigh Bardugo

A darling series come and gone. I couldn't choose which one I preferred so the whole series is number 4. I am utterly devastated I got into this series later than everyone else. I just never picked it up before but it has swiftly become a classic on my shelf. I imagine many rereads in the future and my excitement for Six of Crows is through the roof.

3. The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon

I utterly adore Shannon's world and am so glad this is only the first book. All my favourtie series are ending and The Mime Order comes out early 2015, warranting a new series to get excited over.

2. Heir of Fire by Sarah J Maas

What? Not top of my list? Odd! I reside the beautiful and astonishing Heir of Fire to number 2 only because I only read it once this year and normally the Throne of Glass series demands more reads from me. I am aggressively excited for Maas' new series A Court of Thorns and Roses as well as TOG4!

1. Percy Jackson by Rick Riordan

DUH DUH DUUHHHHHHHH! Trumpets and whatnot. I put off this series for so long, knowing it followed a young boy and assuming I wouldn't connect with it. But I am one to admit how wrong I was, I can't believe I waited so long. This series consumed me, one after the other. I can't remember the last time I picked up the first book and then read the rest of the series one after the other. It just pulled me in and with the final Heroes of Olympus book being released I can now dive into The Lost Hero without the tender pain of waiting for the next one. Dear, delightful Percy has stolen my heart this year.

Happy Reading.

Tuesday, 9 December 2014

Sneak Peek

Sneak Peek: A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J Maas.

Louise Wilkes 23:59:00 0

This is a brand new sneak peek from Maas' newest novel out May 2015.

Chapter 1

The forest had become a labyrinth of snow and ice.

I'd been monitoring the parameters of the thicket for an hour, and my vantage point in the crook of a tree branch had turned useless. The gusting wind blew thick flurries to sweep away my tracks, but buried along with them any signs of potential quarry.

Hunger had brought me farther from home than I usually risked, but winter was the hard time. The animals had pulled in, going deeper into the woods than I could follow, leaving me to pick off stragglers one by one, praying they'd last until spring. They hadn't.

I wiped my numb fingers over my eyes, brushing away the flakes clinging to my lashes. Here there were no telltale trees stripped of bark to mark the deer's passing—they hadn't yet moved on. They would remain until the bark ran out, then travel north past the wolves' territory and perhaps into the faerie lands of Prythian—where no mortals would dare go, not unless they had a death wish.

A shudder skittered down my spine at the thought, and I shoved it away, focusing on my surroundings, on the task ahead. That was all I could do, all I'd been able to do for years: focus on surviving the week, the day, the hour ahead. And now, with the snow, I'd be lucky to spot anything—especially from my position up in the tree, scarcely able to see fifteen feet ahead. Stifling a groan as my stiff limbs protested at the movement, I unstrung my bow before easing off the tree.

The icy snow crunched under my fraying boots, and I ground my teeth. Low visibility, unnecessary noise—I was well on my way to yet another fruitless hunt.

Only a few hours of daylight remained. If I didn't leave soon, I'd have to navigate my way home in the dark, and the warnings of the town hunters still rang fresh in my mind: giant wolves were on the prowl, and in numbers. Not to mention whispers of strange folk spotted in the area, tall and eerie and deadly.

Anything but faeries, the hunters had beseeched our long-forgotten gods—and I had secretly prayed alongside them. In the eight years we'd been living in our village, two days' journey from the immortal border of Prythian, we'd been spared an attack—though traveling peddlers sometimes brought stories of distant border towns left in splinters and bones and ashes. These accounts, once rare enough to be dismissed by the village elders as hearsay, had in recent months become commonplace whisperings on every market day.

I had risked much in coming so far into the forest, but we'd finished our last loaf of bread yesterday, and the remainder of our dried meat the day before. Still, I would have rather spent another night with a hungry belly than found myself satisfying the appetite of a wolf. Or a faerie.

Not that there was much of me to feast on. I'd turned gangly by this time of the year, and could count a good number of my ribs. Moving as nimbly and quietly as I could between the trees, I pushed a hand against my hollow and aching stomach. I knew the expression that would be on my two elder sisters' faces when I returned to our cottage empty-handed yet again.

After a few minutes of careful searching, I crouched in a cluster of snow-heavy brambles. Through the thorns, I had a half-decent view of a clearing and the small brook flowing through it. A few holes in the ice suggested it was still frequently used. Hopefully something would come by. Hopefully.

I sighed through my nose, digging the tip of my bow into the ground, and leaned my forehead against the crude curve of wood. We wouldn't last another week without food. And too many families had already started begging for me to hope for handouts from the wealthier townsfolk. I'd witnessed firsthand exactly how far their charity went.

I eased into a more comfortable position and calmed my breathing, straining to listen to the forest over the wind. The snow fell and fell, dancing and curling like sparkling spindrifts, the white fresh and clean against the brown and gray of the world. And despite myself, despite my numb limbs, I quieted that relentless, vicious part of my mind to take in the snow-veiled woods.

Once it had been second nature to savor the contrast of new grass against dark, tilled soil, or an amethyst brooch nestled in folds of emerald silk; once I'd dreamed and breathed and thought in color and light and shape. Sometimes I would even indulge in envisioning a day when my sisters were married and it was only me and Father, with enough food to go around, enough money to buy some paint, and enough time to put those colors and shapes down on paper or canvas or the cottage walls.

Not likely to happen anytime soon—perhaps ever. So I was left with moments like this, admiring the glint of pale winter light on snow. I couldn't remember the last time I'd done it—bothered to notice anything lovely or interesting.

Stolen hours in a decrepit barn with Isaac Hale didn't count; those times were hungry and empty and sometimes cruel, but never lovely.

The howling wind calmed into a soft sighing. The snow fell lazily now, in big, fat clumps that gathered along every nook and bump of the trees. Mesmerizing—the lethal, gentle beauty of the snow. I'd soon have to return to the muddy, frozen roads of the village, to the cramped heat of our cottage. Some small, fragmented part of me recoiled at the thought.

Bushes rustled across the clearing. Drawing my bow was a matter of instinct. I peered through the thorns, and my breath caught.

Less than thirty paces away stood a small doe, not yet too scrawny from winter, but desperate enough to wrench bark from a tree in the clearing.

A deer like that could feed my family for a week or more.

My mouth watered. Quiet as the wind hissing through dead leaves, I took aim.

She continued tearing off strips of bark, chewing slowly, utterly unaware that her death waited yards away.

I could dry half the meat, and we could immediately eat the rest—stews, pies...Her skin could be sold, or perhaps turned into clothing for one of us. I needed new boots, but Elain needed a new cloak, and Nesta was prone to crave anything someone else possessed.

My fingers trembled. So much food—such salvation. I took a steadying breath, double-checking my aim.

But there was a pair of golden eyes shining from the brush adjacent to mine. The forest went silent. The wind died. Even the snow paused.

We mortals no longer kept gods to worship, but if I had known their lost names, I would have prayed to them. All of them. Concealed in the thicket, the wolf inched closer, its gaze set on the oblivious doe.

He was enormous—the size of a pony—and though I'd been warned about their presence, my mouth turned bone-dry.

But worse than his size was his unnatural stealth: even as he inched closer in the brush, he remained unheard, unspotted by the doe. No animal that massive could be so quiet. But if he was no ordinary animal, if he was of Prythian origin, if he was somehow a faerie, then being eaten was the least of my concerns.

If he was a faerie, I should already be running.

Yet maybe...maybe it would be a favor to the world, to my village, to myself, to kill him while I remained undetected. Putting an arrow through his eye would be no burden.

But despite his size, he looked like a wolf, moved like a wolf. Animal, I reassured myself. Just an animal. I didn't let myself consider the alternative—not when I needed my head clear, my breathing steady.

I had a hunting knife and three arrows. The first two were ordinary arrows—simple and efficient, and likely no more than bee stings to a wolf that size. But the third arrow, the longest and heaviest one, I'd bought from a traveling peddler during a summer when we'd had enough coppers for extra luxuries. An arrow carved from mountain ash, armed with an iron head.

From songs sung to us as lullabies over our cradles, we all knew from infancy that faeries hated iron. But it was the ash wood that made their immortal, healing magic falter long enough for a human to make a killing blow. Or so legend and rumor claimed. The only proof we had of the ash's effectiveness was its sheer rarity. I'd seen drawings of the trees, but never one with my own eyes—not after the High Fae had burned them all long ago. So few remained, most of them small and sickly and hidden by the nobility within high-walled groves. I'd spent weeks after my purchase debating whether that overpriced bit of wood had been a waste of money, or a fake, and for three years, the ash arrow had sat unused in my quiver.

Now I drew it, keeping my movements minimal, efficient—anything to avoid that monstrous wolf looking in my direction. The arrow was long and heavy enough to inflict damage—possibly kill him, if I aimed right.

My chest became so tight it ached. And in that moment, I realized my life boiled down to one question: Was the wolf alone?

I gripped my bow and drew the string farther back. I was a decent shot, but I'd never faced a wolf. I'd thought it made me lucky—even blessed. But now...I didn't know where to hit or how fast they moved. I couldn't afford to miss. Not when I had only one ash arrow.

And if it was indeed a faerie's heart pounding under that fur, then good riddance. Good riddance, after all their kind had done to us. I wouldn't risk this one later creeping into our village to slaughter and maim and torment. Let him die here and now. I'd be glad to end him.

The wolf crept closer, and a twig snapped beneath one of his paws—each bigger than my hand. The doe went rigid. She glanced to either side, ears straining toward the gray sky. With the wolf's downwind position, she couldn't see or smell him.

His head lowered, and his massive silver body—so perfectly blended into the snow and shadows—sank onto its haunches. The doe was still staring in the wrong direction.

I glanced from the doe to the wolf and back again. At least he was alone—at least I'd been spared that much. But if the wolf scared the doe off, I was left with nothing but a starving, oversize wolf—possibly a faerie—looking for the next-best meal. And if he killed her, destroying precious amounts of hide and fat...

If I judged wrongly, my life wasn't the only one that would be lost. But my life had been reduced to nothing but risks these past eight years that I'd been hunting in the woods, and I'd picked correctly most of the time. Most of the time.

The wolf shot from the brush in a flash of gray and white and black, his yellow fangs gleaming. He was even more gargantuan in the open, a marvel of muscle and speed and brute strength. The doe didn't stand a chance.

I fired the ash arrow before he destroyed much else of her.

The arrow found its mark in his side, and I could have sworn the ground itself shuddered. He barked in pain, releasing the doe's neck as his blood sprayed on the snow—so ruby bright.

He whirled toward me, those yellow eyes wide, hackles raised. His low growl reverberated in the empty pit of my stomach as I surged to my feet, snow churning around me, another arrow drawn.

But the wolf merely looked at me, his maw stained with blood, my ash arrow protruding so vulgarly from his side. The snow began falling again. He looked, and with a sort of awareness and surprise that made me fire the second arrow. Just in case—just in case that intelligence was of the immortal, wicked sort.

He didn't try to dodge the arrow as it went clean through his wide yellow eye.

He collapsed to the ground.

Color and darkness whirled, eddying in my vision, mixing with the snow.

His legs were twitching as a low whine sliced through the wind.

Impossible—he should be dead, not dying. The arrow was through his eye almost to the goose fletching.

But wolf or faerie, it didn't matter. Not with that ash arrow buried in his side. He'd be dead soon enough. Still, my hands shook as I brushed off snow and edged closer, still keeping a good distance. Blood gushed from the wounds I'd given him, staining the snow crimson.

He pawed at the ground, his breathing already slowing. Was he in much pain, or was his whimper just his attempt to shove death away? I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

The snow swirled around us. I stared at him until that coat of charcoal and obsidian and ivory ceased rising and falling. Wolf—definitely just a wolf, despite his size.

The tightness in my chest eased, and I loosed a sigh, my breath clouding in front of me. At least the ash arrow had proved itself to be lethal, regardless of who or what it took down.

A rapid examination of the doe told me I could carry only one animal—and even that would be a struggle. But it was a shame to leave the wolf.

Though it wasted precious minutes—minutes during which any predator could smell the fresh blood—I skinned him and cleaned my arrows as best I could. If anything, it warmed my hands. I wrapped the bloody side of his pelt around the doe's death-wound before I hoisted her across my shoulders. It was several miles back to our cottage, and I didn't need a trail of blood leading every animal with fangs and claws straight to me.

Grunting against the weight, I grasped the legs of the deer and spared a final glance at the steaming carcass of the wolf. His remaining golden eye now stared at the snow—heavy sky, and for a moment, I wished I had it in me to feel remorse for the dead thing.

But this was the forest, and it was winter.

So what do you think? Is this going to be just as good as Throne of Glass? Are you excited? Well, you should be.
Here she is, the author herself to introduce the new series.
My hopes are high...very high.
Happy Reading.

This excerpt was originally published on http://www.teenvogue.com/

Sunday, 7 December 2014

wrap up

November Wrap Up and December TBR

Louise Wilkes 01:25:00 0

Warning: Spoilers! (duh.)

Who wants a late TBR! You? Well, I'm here to please.

In November I only read two books and two short stories. Pathetic I know, but I've been trying to write for my assignments in January and reading took a back seat.

This month I am determined to read four books. This is because I am so close to completing my read challenge.

I have already started Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater.

There is danger in dreaming. But there is even more danger in waking up.

Blue Sargent has found things. For the first time in her life, she has friends she can trust, a group to which she can belong. The Raven Boys have taken her in as one of their own. Their problems have become hers, and her problems have become theirs.

The trick with found things though, is how easily they can be lost.

Friends can betray.
Mothers can disappear.
Visions can mislead.
Certainties can unravel

I am almost finished with The Tragedies by Sophocles.

This volume contains three masterpieces by the Greek playwright Sophocles, widely regarded since antiquity as the greatest of all the tragic poets. The vivid translations, which combine elegance and modernity, are remarkable for their lucidity and accuracy, and are equally suitable for reading for pleasure, study, or theatrical performance. The selection of Antigone, Oedipus the King, and Electra not only offers the reader the most influential and famous of Sophocles' works, it also presents in one volume the two plays dominated by a female heroic figure, and the experience of the two great dynasties featured in Greek tragedy--the houses of Oedipus and Agamemnon.

I have also begun a reread of Cinder by Marissa Meyer, as this was one of the last books I read in 2013 so will be a nice way to end the year.

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth’s fate hinges on one girl.

Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She’s a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister’s illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai’s, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world’s future.

The final book will be selected from my TBR Jar in the last week of December. So until then, lets blow this reading challenge. 100 books!

Happy Reading.