Yeah, I was never not going to post this the moment I saw it.
"What I do is not up to you."
2017, I need you now.
If she moved her head all the way up against the wall and tilted it to the left she could just see the edge of the moon through the bars. Just a silver sliver, almost close enough to eat. A sliver of cheese, a sliver of cake, a cup of tea to be polite. Someone had given her a cup of tea once, someone with blue-green eyes and long ears. Funny how she couldn't remember his face, though. All that part was hazy, her memory of him wrapped in smoke but for the eyes and ears. And the ears were long and furry.These opening lines sealed the deal, I'm afraid. There was no going back after I met Alice and she met Hatcher and the two of them agreed to hold hands throughout their ordeal. I was completely unable and completely uninterested in not being with them. Which is saying quite a lot, because their ordeal is not for the faint of heart. I repeat, beyond this point there be dragons of the deepest and darkest kind. I want to make this point early, because this book will not be for many readers. The violence factor is high. Hatcher is an actual ax murderer, after all, and he has set his sights on keeping Alice safe from any threat, which means the body count is astoundingly high in this dark fantasy that takes all the unhinged zaniness from Lewis Carroll's classic tale and neatly amplifies it by one hundred percent. Essentially, this book and I had no business falling as madly in love as we did. But there you have it. I loved it beyond reason. I kept waiting for the level of horror to send me packing, but the core—the light that Alice and Hatcher make by the mere fact of their survival—kept me following. Their fight to stop the mindless violence of the Jabberwock, their run ins with each of the unspeakably evil crime lords that run Old City, and the slow and terrifying awakening of Alice's memories are all excellently rendered.
"You remember it all now," Hatcher said, and it wasn't a question.Buy
"Yes," she said. She was beyond weeping for the child she once was. "It is, more or less, what you would expect. Except for the part where I escaped. Nobody expected that."
I stared down into the open grave and wished I could summon a tear.Deanna Raybourn always has me at hello. I've been quoting the first line of Silent in the Grave aloud regularly for going on eight years now, and the opening lines of A Curious Beginning continue the excellence. Veronica is a giant breath of fresh air from the word go, and I was more than content to follow her wherever her wandering soul led. Of course, once she and I fell into Stoker's looming warehouse of a laboratory, it was love at first sight. Stoker is every bit as wary and scarred and recalcitrant as I could hope for. Together, they are marvelously witty and biting and perfect. Veronica's parentage is one of the central mysteries of the novel, and the ever-present (if quiet) longing she feels to know where she comes from is palpable. Stoker's past is rife with pain and secrets as well, and the reader is privileged to accompany them as they traipse through their checkered histories in search of answers. The trip through Stoker's includes a very memorable stay with a traveling circus and its various and sundry denizens. I absolutely loved watching Veronica catch a glimpse of what makes him tick, and their banter throughout this section (and the entire novel) is off the charts enjoyable. I am a fan of the slow burn romance, and this one takes its time, developing in extremely endearing increments. Stoker, for all his ragged exterior, is honorable to the core. His rigid reluctance and decency is beautifully set off by Veronica's levity and refusal to be cowed or dictated to. They have a definite Holmes/Watson air about them as they unravel the threads of their tale. Veronica will always be (among other things) a bit of a gorgeous trial for Stoker. But I am convinced he will never let her fall. If you couldn't tell, I'm in love with them both and eagerly await their future adventures.
Eighteen-year-old Jill Cafferty just made history. Her high school’s star pitcher, she is now the first woman drafted by a major league baseball team. Only days after her high school graduation, she’ll join the Class A Short Season in the New York-Penn League . . . but not everyone is happy to have her there.
On top of the pressure heaped on every pitcher, Jill must deal with defying conventions and living up to impossible expectations, all while living away from home for the first time. She’ll go head-to-head against those who are determined to keep baseball an all-male sport. Despite the reassurance of coaches and managers alike, a few of her teammates are giving her trouble. The media presence following her at each game is inescapable. And to top it all off, Jill is struggling with the responsibilities of being a national hero and a role model for young women everywhere. How can she be a role model when she’s not even sure she made the right choice for herself? Didn’t baseball used to be fun?