Bibliocrack Review: Down London Road by Samantha Young

So I actually read Samantha Young's debut contemporary romance On Dublin Street quite awhile ago. And then I just never reviewed it. It may have simply gotten lost in the shuffle or I got distracted by some shiny object or what have you. The thing is, I enjoyed it fine. It lingered around the edges of my consciousness enough that I was looking forward to the sequel and immediately purchased a copy upon its release earlier this month. Down London Road takes place not long after the events of On Dublin Street and focuses on Joss' friend and co-worker Johanna. I wasn't sure what to expect going in, given that Johanna was not the most sympathetic of characters in the first book. But I'm coming to learn that those somewhat acerbic, occasionally deceptively simple side characters often come into their own with a vengeance when it's their turn in the spotlight. And I so love it when that happens. I was also awfully eager to return to the setting itself. I didn't get to spend as long as I'd have liked when I was in Edinburgh and I've longed to go back ever since. Happily, reading these books sent me straight back to wandering those same streets, ducking in and out of cafés, and generally soaking it all up.

Jo Walker has perfected the art of keeping all her balls in the air. From a young age, she's been the responsible one in her family (and I use the term "family" very loosely). Having bid good riddance to her deadbeat dad, Jo supports her alcoholic mum, her teenage brother Cole, and herself secretarying by day, bartending by night, and professionally girlfriending both day and night. Ever since the day she realized she could attract rich older men, she's taken that role seriously. And she's never been without a sugar daddy for long. The lives of three people depend upon it, in fact. And so while she never stays in a dead end relationship and she always chooses her partners with the utmost care, she's also never really been in love. Money always trumps emotions when it comes to keeping food on the table, taking care of Cole, and ensuring that the blackness that touched her own life growing up never stretches out to mar his. And she's learned to be all right with it. Really, she has. But when she attends an art exhibition on the arm of her current boyfriend Malcolm and makes the acquaintance of one Cameron MacCabe, the sparks (both good and bad) that fly threaten to throw off her delicate juggling act. And when she winds up helping Cam out by putting in a good word for him at the bar where she works, Jo unwittingly sets in motion a series of events sure to get in the way of the safe, structured course she has all mapped out.

I fell in love with Jo before I knew what had happened to me. Ms. Young proved to be exceedingly clever when it comes to her characterization of this steely young woman. Because I really did not care for her in the first book. But it turns out that I, like every other character present, was seeing her but not really seeing her. We all of us were only grasping the barest slice of what made up Johanna. Then all of a sudden, in this installment, I became privy to what was really going on behind the curtain. As Cameron later observes, this is one complex lady. And I loved her so very much. My heart broke over Jo (and Cole) over and over again as I watched them shoot for normal and miss by a mile. The demons in their past are dark and the ones in their present are little better. But, page after page, it was as though I could feel the strength in her spine, immutable and unwavering. I didn't wonder at Cameron falling in love with her. I only wondered that out of her long string of sophisticated, urbane boyfriends not one realized just exactly what he had. Though Jo does have self-preservation down pat, and that includes a rather alarmingly efficient smoothing away of anything that could be perceived as a flaw to potential providers. Which is why Cameron presents such a problem. Essentially the polar opposite of a potential provider, he is out of work and entirely unsophisticated and urbane. At least that's how he appears, with his laid back manner and his unusual tattoos. Yeah, I didn't wonder at Jo's feelings for Cam either. I just wondered if she would ever let loose her choke hold on security  long enough to figure out what they meant. The thing is--and this is important--I wouldn't have blamed her if she hadn't. That's how much I loved Jo. I wanted them to be together so badly, and yet I would have understood if she'd passed in favor of saving Cole (and herself) more pain and fear and want. And I just want to give Samantha Young all the rounds of applause for so brilliantly keeping the focus on her heroine. Everything else was secondary, beautiful--but secondary. A short, sweet favorite moment:

When you first tore me a new one, I wanted to know you. And when I got to know you, when I stood across a kitchen and you told me not to kill a spider because it didn't say much for us as a species if we killed something because we feared it, I knew.

I'm not saying who says it and I'm not saying who they say it to. All I am saying is--it's a good scene. This entire book is made up of good scenes, complex and nuanced characters, and one supremely encompassing romance. Down London Road is the kind of contemporary romance you can sink your teeth into. I had an alarmingly good time reading it, and I will unquestioningly be back for more.

Buy:

Linkage
The Allure of Books - "I was beyond invested in this story."
Book Binge - "This book is as much Jo's personal journey as it is a romance."
The Bookpushers - "I really think Samantha Young hit the ball out of the park with Down London Road."
Dear Author - "This is not a heart and flowers, easy reading romance. The characters are tough to like at times, but their motivations always read purely to me."
Fiction Vixen - "One thing I’ve come to love about Samantha Young’s characters is that they always project an undaunted realism."
Smexy Books - "I absolutely positively adored Jo."

Not All Covers are Created Equal, or Angie's Top Ten Favorite Covers (of Books She's Actually Read)

Top Ten Tuesday is a bookish meme hosted at The Broke and the Bookish

Presented without comment, because a picture speaks a . . . well, you know what I mean. 

Review: Under the Light by Laura Whitcomb

It doesn't happen very often in life, that utterly unexpected sequel that drops in your lap years after the original book came out. Most of the time, you discover series you love and blow through them at lightning speed and then are left to pick up the shattered pieces of yourself when the whole glorious thing is over. Or you stumble across gold with the very first book and are forced to not-so-patiently wait one year (or more) for each new installment. But occasionally an author hits you with one out of left field. I first read and adored A Certain Slant of Light not too long after it was published in 2006. It felt like a perfectly contained standalone novel to me at the time. And it still is. If you only read that one, you will be left content. But there are a couple of . . . I hesitate to call them side characters . . . that you certainly would not object to spending more time with, if you know what I mean (series addicts: I know you know what I mean.) So when I discovered that Laura Whitcomb was writing a companion novel (sequel of sorts) told from one of those character's perspectives, well. I was more than okay with it.

Jenny is not okay. Having returned to her body after unexpectedly vacating it for a period of time, she has no real recollection of what happened in the interim. All she knows is that she was . . . gone . . . for awhile. And when she came back, there was a boy who seemed to know her but not know her. Billy held in his hand a Polaroid of the two of them together. They looked happy. They looked like they belonged together. And yet Jenny and Billy do not know each other. They don't have the kind of shared memories that the photograph suggests. Instead, what they have is a disturbingly similar (if different in the details) history of shame, painful family issues, and a longing for escape. And, as it turns out, Billy was gone for awhile, too. What they begin to discover is that a fair bit happened while they were away. And one of the presences involved is not through involving herself in their lives. Meanwhile, real life has gone on around them. Jenny's father has moved out and is threatening (as he always has) to control everything about her life. Billy's brother is suspicious (as he always is) of his little brother's activities. The two lost teens attempt to get to know one another and, perhaps, puzzle out their bizarre connection. But it seems the ramifications of the events they have no memory of will impede their fledgling attempts and impact their presents in very real and unsettling ways.

And that's where every ghost story begins, with a death.

Laura Whitcomb uses all her words and that is all there is to it. It was so comforting (and not a little emotional) to be back inside the beautiful canopy of language she creates. Somehow she manages to return us to that absolutely unique atmosphere evoked in A Certain Slant of Light, and it is as though we were never away. Helen is a point of view character this time around as well, and it was easy to fall back into the cadence of her thoughts. But since I felt her story resolved nicely in the last book, Jenny was the one I really wanted to be with. So it proved to be somewhat of a distraction when Helen's presence in the story occasionally threatened to overwhelm Jenny's. I fully understood her preoccupation with Jenny's fate, but I could have done with a little less from her directly. Because when Helen fades into the background and allows us an unfettered view of Jenny and Billy together . . . it is magnetic. As in the final chapter of A Certain Slant of Light, the bond between these two is breathtakingly tentative. I would have followed them anywhere they wanted to go. And Whitcomb does take them places, beyond the boundaries of time and space, in fact. A favorite passage that takes place fairly early on and far, far away:

He lifted his foot and rested it over my ankle, gently pinning me down.

Then he pointed into the heavens. "Want to go there?"

"Where?"

"That star." He gave his finger an extra stretch toward the dozens of stars in that general direction. "The one by those other two stars."

"What do you mean?" I lifted my arm so it was touching his, our hands and fingers aligned, and pointed. "That one?"

"No," he complained. Then he swiped his fingers across our view of the sky, like he was flicking away a speck of dust or a drop of water, and the night surged forward. The stars, staying perfectly aligned, curved across the sky--time had sped into the future an hour.

I gasped at this and grabbed his hand, pulling it back toward our bodies as if he might accidentally throw the earth off its rotation. The stars slowed again, appearing to have stopped.

"How did you do that?" I whispered.

"I took us somewhere we hadn't been yet," he said. "Forward in time."

He said it so matter-of-factly, but the idea made me shiver on the inside.

"Just a little," he reassured me.

"Thats . . . so cool." I pointed at one particularly bright star and gave it a push with my fingertip in the air. The map of stars glided forward again, constellations staying aligned as they gracefully passed over us, not a long way, just a bit into the tail of the night, an hour or two closer to morning.

He made a sound of alarm, a fake cry, and then laughed, "Here." He lifted his arm to mind, our hands together, our index fingers pointing up. As one, without saying aloud what we would do, we moved the stars a few minutes westward, then froze. "Look what we can do together," he said.

And so while the story spends a rather unnecessary amount of time detailing Helen's anxieties and desires for her former host, it redeems itself by winding its way around again to the heart of this sequel--two shell-shocked and lonely young people who find each other and, in each other, hope.

Buy:

Linkage
Babbling About Books, and More - "The ending will make you smile and possibly shed a tear."
Ink and Page - "I felt lulled, pulled along, enchanted."
The Midnight Garden - "This sequel is astonishingly complete and wholly satisfying."
The Readventurer - "The last chapter is just gorgeous. But the plot, the plot! Where art thou?"

Review: On the Island by Tracey Garvis Graves

My thanks to Jess over at Gone With the Words for bringing On the Island to my attention. I realize I'm likely the last person to the table here, but I literally had not heard anything about it before I ran across it on her list of books she liked way more than she thought she would. What a happy list, right? Then I sifted through the almost overwhelmingly positive reactions from my Goodreads peeps and decided this book I would normally have been firmly on the fence about might actually be a book very much for me. I don't generally go in for survival stories. And May-December relationships work for me even less often than survival stories do. A novel that combines both seemed doomed to DNF status. But. I had a feeling. One of those good ones. Originally self-published by Tracey Garvis Graves, On the Island was later picked up by Penguin. As far as the cover goes, I will simply say that I wish it reflected the harrowing nature of Anna's story a bit more.

It wasn't what she wanted to do this summer. But it has to be better than sitting around at home making no forward progress at all. Which is exactly what she'd be doing if she stayed. Anna and her longtime boyfriend John have been rather pointedly not circling the issue of taking their relationship to the next level for years now, and Anna can't take it anymore. So she accepts the offer to tutor T.J. Callahan at his family's summer rental home in the Maldives. Seventeen-year-old T.J. is recovering from Hodgkin's lymphoma and is way behind in school. His parents set up this summer vacation to celebrate the remission of his cancer and to help him ease back into his former life again. And so the somewhat mutually reluctant Anna and T.J. board a plane to the Maldives to meet up with his parents and sisters who are already there. But when their pilot has a heart attack in mid-air, their plane goes down somewhere in the middle of the Indian Ocean. Injured and completely alone, the two of them manage to make it to a nearby island where they attempt to survive and somehow signal the searchers that must be out there looking for them. But as the days and weeks stretch on, it seems clear that any rescuers who might have been looking have given up by now.

It shouldn't work. I mean, we all know what the inevitable is in such a situation, do we not? And it really shouldn't work. But somehow it just . . . does. Graves' writing is very straightforward and unadorned. Yet somehow that lack of pretension perfectly suits the starkness of Anna and T.J.'s situation. In fact, I thought the whole stranded on a desert island scenario was handled remarkably well. I had no trouble at all sinking into the monotony (and occasional terror) of their days. Both rather pragmatic, they develop into a strong team as they learn to do what they have to to survive, including everything from climbing trees to knock down unidentifiable fruit to dealing with injuries and building shelter. I confess, I drank it in. Nothing about their story feels rushed. And, as the years pass, it almost takes you by surprise how protective and fond of these characters you become. I appreciated the consistency with which Ms. Graves drew Anna and T.J. Perhaps most relieving of all is that they remain their ages. There is no romantic blurring of the lines between a thirty-year-old woman and a teenage boy on the cusp of manhood. The issue is always there throughout the entire book. And while the extremity and desperation of the circumstances do force their hands to a degree, that consistency and unrushed approach pays off in a big way when the inevitable eventually does happen. And that payoff sees you (and them) through the remainder of their story, which includes the unimaginable return to their lives that were and all the resistance and post-traumatic strain that entails. I didn't expect to harbor the feelings I do for this book. It has its flaws, to be sure. But I read it through in one sitting. The sweetness and openness that form its backbone are infectious, and I in no way regret the little piece of my heart it stole.

Buy:

Linkage
Babbling About Books, and More - "I got the warm fuzzies and I’m not ashamed to admit, I had to blink back a few tears when I finished reading."
Dear Author - "I read this in one sitting and enjoyed it, but looking back on it, I feel vaguely dissatisfied."
Gone with the Words - "It will most certainly steal your heart."
Ivy Book Bindings - "It was all achingly real and the age gap between these two made this novel one that readers of varied ages will be able to relate to on a very personal level."
Smexy Books - "This book ended up being so warm and engaging."

Roguish Pretties

I've written about my love for Jennifer Roberson's Robin Hood retellings before. But imagine my delight when I saw they were being reissued this summer with these lovely new covers. These two companion novels have had a good variety of covers, from a sort of old school fairy tale historical to super romancey bare chestedness. All in the interest of attracting people from different reading backgrounds who might read and love these books. But I am kind of digging these new ones, as I think they have the potential to appeal to the widest spectrum of readers. I know I'll be snagging copies as soon as they're released on May 28th and June 25th respectively. They'll be just perfect for the re-read I feel coming on.

Review: Golden by Jessi Kirby

I feel like contemporary YA and I are going through a rough patch. We're having trouble seeing eye to eye. We seem to be going in different directions. We don't want the same things anymore. Take your pick. I realize this is likely just an unfortunate string of mismatches, but after a little while it's hard not to take it personally, you know? So much good chatter surrounded today's release of Jessi Kirby's Golden. Not having ready Kirby's previous two novels, I found myself curious about the fervor. Then I heard whispers of a decade-old unresolved mystery and something about Robert Frost and I was on board. Somewhat uninspiring Generic Sunlit Girl cover aside, I like that it doesn't lead the reader too much as to what to expect inside. That combined with my lack of knowledge of the author's work in general made it possible for me to go in with fairly untouched expectations. Which is always a nice thing.

Parker Frost (yes, that Frost her father maintains) is on the cusp of greatness. She's ready to blow the Popsicle stand that is her small-town home and head off to Stanford for some real living. She's got Valedictorian status in her hip pocket. The only obstacle remaining between her and her dream is a scholarship speech. Knowing Parker, she can slap that puppy out in her sleep and still have time for coffee with her best friend Kat. But when her English teacher asks her to send out a stack of journals to his old students, she stumbles across something that might force her to throw all her carefully laid plans by the wayside. That something is the personal journal of Julianna Farnetti. Presumed dead (along with her longtime boyfriend Shane Cruz) in a violent car crash ten years ago, Julianna has achieved the status of local legend by now. But as Parker gives into temptation and reads the journal, she realizes that not everything in the young lovers' lives was as it seemed. And now, inexplicably, Parker finds herself on a mission to resolve their deaths and, just possibly along the way, find the answers to her own burgeoning questions about the life that she leads and the kind of person she wants to be.

It started out well. I liked Parker fine. I liked the cute, somewhat fuzzily arrogant boy who seemed to have his eye on her. Though her best friend Kat immediately felt like the usual carboard cut-out, wilder than the heroine but with a heart of gold best friend that so frequently populates coming-of-age novels of this ilk, I figured as long as she didn't play too obnoxiously large of a role, we should be able to rub along tolerably well. Her mother was an irritatingly nebulous, overbearing presence in her life, but the mystery felt intriguing and, most of all, important to Parker. So I read on and found myself wanting to know more of Julianna and Shane and the mysterious Orion. Soon, I was far more interested in spending time within the pages of the journal than with the living, breathing teens in the present day who were fumbling to unravel the past. I had no trouble understanding Parker's preoccupation with Julianna's story, but I lost my preoccupation with Parker and hers. And since not all that much time is actually spent inside the pages of the journal, I found my emotions invested in the areas guaranteed to give me the least payoff. The boy (and his interest in Parker) never materialized, always shunted to the backseat. Kat did stay in the picture. And while I bought her affection for Parker, I longed for more depth between them. And then there is the title and the whole Robert Frost thing. And let me tell you, it is a Thing. Frost poems herald the start of each chapter, they run through Parker's head, they insinuate themselves into every fold and crevice of the story. And it was just too much for this reader, too much browbeating with the theme. I get it, Ponyboy. Nothing gold can stay. You've got to grasp life by the horns when you have the chance. I just don't respond well to the painfully earnest shoving of these truisms down my throat. I finished Golden actually angry. Angry at my time spent with another undifferentiated, underdeveloped, well-meaning contemporary. There. Is that cantankerous enough for you? For what it's worth (and as is the trend lately), I am alone in my high dudgeon.

Golden is out today.

Buy:

Linkage
Alexa Loves Books - "Parker's journey is beautifully handled."
Confessions of a Book Addict - "Golden is on my "special" bookshelf dedicated to my favorite reads."
A Good Addiction - "Golden is a brilliant, aching must read of a book."
Good Books and Good Wine - "Golden does a wonderful job exploring the theme of myth versus reality."
I Read Banned Books - "This story hold more than just one note. Highly recommend!"
Ivy Book Bindings - "Golden is a novel that I emerged from a different person."
The Midnight Garden - "Writing like this is contemporary YA at its best."
The Perpetual Page-Turner - "Golden is a stunning book with incredible depth, a skillfully unraveled mystery and characters that I really loved."
Stories After Twelve - "This book blew my mind away!"

Where Everybody Knows Your Name, or Angie's Top Ten Fun Reads

Top Ten Tuesday is a bookish meme hosted at The Broke and the Bookish

It's hard when someone asks you for a "light, fun" read, isn't it? Often they just want something that won't require them to try too hard, that they can kick back and relax with. I know the feeling. At the same time, I'm always curiously reluctant to label any book as merely light and fun. If I return to them again and again when I need to get away, it's because there's something there. And that something and I are tight. We recognize each other whenever we cross paths. We are supremely happy to see each other again. So, we'll dispense with the light and go with the books that are fun for me. The ones that make me laugh and fill me with the joyful tingles. In alphabetical order:

An Abundance of Katherines by John Green - I laughed so hard within the first few pages, I had to stop and read the entire first chapter aloud to my husband and his family. It wasn't just me. It really is that funny.

All I Ever Wanted by Kristan Higgins - Totally surprised at how much of a comfort read my first Higgins has become. I get such a kick out of characters who are in turn wild about and somewhat appalled by who they fall in love with.

Bet Me by Jennifer Crusie - My, but this book is easy to love.

The Demon's Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan - I basically run the emotional gambit when I sit down to read a Rees Brennan book. This was my first and you never really get over your first, do you?

Games of Command by Linnea Sinclair - Maverick female captain. Half cyborg admiral. Space opera FTW!

The Hero Strikes Back by Moira Moore - Lee & Taro's fumbling partnership will always make me smile. Still waters run deep.

The Mage's Daughter by Lynn Kurland - Terrifically entertaining, I find myself unconsciously drawing this one out, savoring each and every chapter.

Nine Rules to Break When Romancing a Rake by Sarah MacLean - Ridiculously, ridiculously charming. Such a bright book. 

Rites of Spring (Break) by Diana Peterfreund - Life Savers, abandoned shower stalls, and swim lessons. That is all.

Straight Man by Richard Russo - Another one that is just splendidly hysterical when read aloud. I don't know that I've ever laughed harder when reading. Of course, the humor is matched in heartbreak. But it's worth it. Of course it is.