A Review of Dodger by Terry Pratchett

How did Charles Dickens come up with the character of the Artful Dodger for Oliver Twist? According to this book, the journalist and serial novelist met a street-smart teen who served as the basis for the character. That would be a great premise all by itself, but Pratchett takes it a step further—the book is told from the perspective of Dodger. It is also, according to the author’s note, historical fantasy. Since you won’t come across a shred of magic here, you might find yourself wondering why. Here’s how the author puts it: “This is a historical fantasy—and certainly not a historical novel….” I would say it’s historical fantasy because Dodger performs feats of derring-do that are sometimes a little over the top. Feats, in fact, worthy of a Dickens novel. Or maybe a James Bond movie. (Spy books and movies are secretly fantasy novels, I’ve always thought.) Joan Aiken would be proud of this book, which channels the kind of fantasy/adventure writing you'll find in her Wolves of Willoughby Chase and the rest of the series. So. Strict fantasy? No. But Dodger requires a certain suspension of disbelief. It is also one of the best books I’ve read all year.

This is approximately one-fourth due to the adventure and secondary characters like Charles Dickens; it's three-fourths due to the central character. We learn that Dodger is a tosher. Not only that, but he’s a geezer. Here’s a minor villain explaining to the major villains what they’re up against:

“A geezer is somebody that everybody knows, and he knows everybody, and maybe he knows something about everyone he knows that maybe you wished he didn’t know. Um, and well, he’s sharp, crafty, um, not exactly a thief but somehow things find their way into his hands. Doesn’t mind a bit of mischief, and wears the street like an overcoat. Dodger now…well, Dodger’s a tosher as well, which means he knows what’s going on down in the sewers too—a tosher, sir, being somebody who goes down there looking for coins and suchlike that may have been lost down the drain.”

Dodger mostly considers himself a tosher. He’s even been known to pray to the Lady on occasion. She's the patron saint of toshers—a beautiful woman with rats swarming happily over her feet. But Dodger is meant for something more. It all begins one night when he’s in the sewers and hears a cry for help. He pops out and sees a girl trying to get away from two men in a coach. I should mention that Dodger is a fierce street brawler. He bashes up the men rather handily and takes off with the girl. Here’s where he runs into Charles Dickens and his friend Henry Mayfield. Once they have convinced him of their integrity, he allows them to convey the girl, who has been badly beaten, to Mayfield’s home to be cared for by Mrs. Mayfield. But Dodger comes along to make sure everything is on the up and up.

Then Charles Dickens takes an interest in Dodger and hires him to find out who the girl is. Not only does Dodger have an instant crush on the girl they begin calling Simplicity, but he’s also intrigued by the challenge. He begins asking around—which is what brings him to the attention of the villains. The adventure escalates and escalates in, well, true Dickensian fashion. With a little bit of James Bond thrown in for good measure.

But I was telling you about Dodger. He is dimensional in a rough and ready way tinged with vague ambitions. Fortunately, he has a mentor in the form of the old Jewish man he lives with: Solomon, of course. Solomon has been trying to teach Dodger just a little honesty and now begins to help him take advantage of the opportunities that come his way because of this new adventure. Solomon is an amazing character; later in the book we start to realize just how amazing he really is. Simplicity turns out to be rather complicated, too. Dodger meets one of the richest women in England, not to mention Benjamin Disraeli, police master Robert Peel and, in a Pratchett tour de force, Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street—from whom Dodger seeks a haircut.

I can’t even begin to tell you how wonderfully well all of this is executed. The writing itself is strong, but the ideas are even better. For example, Dickens teaches Dodger about the way journalists spin stories, explaining it using fog as an analogy. We see variations of London fog crawling here and there in the story to reinforce the theme. Then Dodger coopts the metaphor in a truly useful way as his life careens down the increasingly dangerous streets of the city. For example, Dodger meets Disraeli and draws his own conclusions. Here he talks to Solomon about it. The old man is describing social stratification. “Intrigued, Dodger said, ‘Am I downtrodden?’” The old man answered:

“You? Not so you would notice, my boy, and neither do you tread on anybody else, which is a happy situation to be in, but if I was you I shouldn’t think too much more about politics, it can only make you ill.”

Dodger may not think a lot about politics, but he knows how to play people. After turning into a reluctant hero to the entire city and laying his fists about in a couple of dark corners where he is meant to die, Dodger hatches an elaborate plot to save Simplicity. Then he takes an odd crew a-toshing in the sewers, where he meets up with the worst of the villains hired by the major bad guys to kill him.

Pratchett has a marvelous time with his conclusion, which is unexpected and unbelievable and absolutely perfect. But the book sings because of the people in it. I have long admired Pratchett for his talent with characterization, and here he does it again—in spades. Dodger’s dodgy yet sincere thought processes are a compelling, heart-warming mix of an utter lack of morals combined with a true-blue determination to put certain wrongs right.

We also get Pratchett’s signature humor, though it’s considerably toned down in this book as compared to the satire in the Discworld series. The passages about Dodger getting a better class of clothing, first in a shonky shop and later on Savile Row, are a prime example, along with the follow-up joke that will make you think of celebrities wearing the same designer dress to a fancy party. A lot of the humor has to do with Dodger as a fish out of water, but Dodger is so valiant and so aware of himself in the world that he is not, after all, the brunt of disdain. All of this struts its stuff on the stage of filthy, colorful nineteenth-century London.

You simply can’t go wrong with this book.

I’m not crazy about the trailer—Dodger isn’t tough enough and the fight is too slow paced. But watch it if you want.

Also: This cover is not the best ever, but I think the UK cover is worse. It's just doofy. Good thing the inside of the book is so wonderful!

Note for Worried Parents: Dodger is a book for teens, with a good dollop of peril and violence plus a few relatively mild references to prostitutes and just basically the sordid nature of the streets. And there’s a joke you wait for the whole book due to the unfortunate name of Dodger’s very smelly dog. Even that is not spelled out, though. In general, it’s just a mature book about an older teen character.

A Review of The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater

I really liked this book. Like other readers whose reviews and reactions I’ve seen, I was a little irked by the lack of payoff on certain plot points at the end, but that’s syndrome series, and its all too common these days. What the author does very successfully is develop an Outsiders-worthy cast of characters struggling with the very act of being themselves. I say The Outsiders, but the titular Raven Boys are at least in part a fabulously wealthy bunch. The book’s first major perspective, though, us that of a girl from the town of Henrietta who doesn’t have a lot of money. She lives in a home full of women who are fortunetellers, or more probably witches. The odd group of people living in her house are presented in such a mundane, slightly quarrelsome way that they do not seem contrived or staged. We start with a wonderful first line: “Blue Sargent had forgotten how many times she’d been told she would kill her true love.”

Which, I will tell you right up front [SPOILER!] is the promise that is not fulfilled in this book. A promise that is set up, however, rather beautifully. Although The Raven Boys ends up being about a particular kind of danger that is dealt with here, its focus is primarily on character and the interactions between characters. Blue, in fact, turns out to be less important and even less interesting than the four boys she meets. She’s right to be dubious about this group from the elite boys’ school on the edge of town, Aglionby: two wealthy boys named Gansey and Ronan, a quiet boy named Noah, and a scholarship boy named Adam.

Adam takes a shine to Blue that she cautiously returns, but that’s only after Blue has had a supernatural encounter with what appears to be the ghost of Gansey in a graveyard. You can tell Blue is meant to be with Gansey and that that’s going to cause trouble. Gansey’s relationship with the other three boys is fascinating. He is on a quixotic quest to find the ley lines and a mythological figure in Henrietta. He leads the other boys, saves them, but also controls them in ways that Adam, at least, resents furiously. The themes Stiefvater brings up with this web of lives and personalities are thought-provoking, and they read simply as offshoots of these characters.

If anything, The Raven Boys reminds me of Margaret Mahy’s book, The Tricksters, which is high praise indeed.

The supernatural elements in Steifvater’s story wind in and out in ways that only serve to heighten the tensions between characters. The boys wonder if the paranormal is real. Gansey has his reasons for believing, and Blue knows all too well that it is. Her own power is not what she wishes it were. Even the villain of the piece has an uneasy relationship with the supernatural. He has longed for it, sacrificed for it, and done terrible things for it. It’s easy to see him as a symbol of the future for one or more of these boys, especially considering his past.

The writing itself is superb. Here is Blue talking to Adam for the first time. She doesn’t know any of the boys’ names yet, but she’s given them nicknames.

To her surprise, it was Elegant Boy, face gaunter and older in the distant streetlight. He was alone. No sign of President Cell Phone, the smudgy one, or their hostile friend. One hand steadied his bike. The other was tucked neatly in his pocket. His uncertain posture didn’t quite track with the raven-breasted sweater, and she caught a glimpse of a worn bit of seam on the shoulder before he shrugged it under his ear as if he was cold.

You get a strong feeling of fate in The Raven Boys, a feeling that for all their personal struggles and thoughts, this group of people is being driven madly in a direction far past their own understanding. Like classic characters along the lines of Oedipus or Romeo and Juliet.

Another complaint about the book I’ve heard is that it moves too slowly. This is certainly not The Lightning Thief or even The Hunger Games. But are we past enjoying a subtle plot that relies heavily on character to smolder towards certain conclusions and then other, later destinies in YA fiction? No, that first sentence does not entirely play out in this initial volume. But other plot points do. Perhaps more important, the set-up is eerily powerful and touching in aching, personal ways. If that works for you, please do read The Raven Boys.

Here’s the book trailer, insufficient to my way of thinking even if it is by the author.

Note for Worried Parents: This is just not a middle grade book. It’s thoroughly YA, mostly because of mature themes and the way it reads. Don’t bother giving The Raven Boys to anyone under 12, or maybe even under 15. They won’t get it.

A Review of Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas

The Hunger Games meets Megan Whalen Turner’s Queen’s Thief series. I’m not saying it’s as well written as Turner’s books, but then, most things aren’t. It is, however, a good series start that mixes fights to the death with palace intrigue.

Eighteen-year-old Celaena Sardothien is the best assassin in the entire region, if not the known world. This is not as Mary Sue as it sounds because Celaena has paid dearly for her knowledge and abilities. She is currently locked up in a horrible prison camp, though she was only caught because someone betrayed her. Now a prince has come to free her so she can represent him in a contest to become his father’s assassin. Murderers and assassins from all over the kingdom and beyond are gathered at the tyrant’s glass palace for the competition.

Celaena is confident even though prison life has taken a toll on her health. Her keeper and trainer is a guard captain named Chaol. Against their better judgment, both he and Prince Dorian are drawn to Celaena. So yes, this one has all the ingredients for a typical paranormal/fantasy, with two hot, powerful guys falling for our heroine. But Maas mostly manages to write her way beyond the clichés. She does this by making her characters complex and by making us care about them. In addition, the plot takes some nice twists and turns. These are practically gothic, involving creepy deaths, a hidden chamber, uncertain alliances, and conspiracies. All of this is very fun and makes Throne of Glass a swooshing ride of a story.

Celaena is the best, but she’s up against some scary competition, particularly a giant of a man named Cain. The final battle is not what you are expecting, which is a very good thing from a storytelling standpoint.

Along the way, Celaena has moments of romance or at least connection with both of the men in her life. She also makes friends with a foreign princess named Nehemia and the ghost of a famous queen.

The fact that Dorian’s father is a terrible man adds to the plot tension. If Celaena does win, she will have to work for the person who has conquered and essentially destroyed many kingdoms, including the one she came from. We get a few faint hints that Celaena may be a lost princess, kind of like Princess Anastasia surviving the deaths of the Romanovs.

The supernatural elements blend nicely with the rest of the plot. There’s an evil magic powering the bad guys’ nefarious plans, and Celaena has connections to its opposite number, the good magic. None of this is overdone.

One of the most interesting things about the story is the way Celaena is maneuvered by people like the prince and Chaol. And by maneuvered, I mean that she is a prisoner. She is locked in her chambers under guard, and she is constantly being told what to wear and where to go. How can she maintain her sense of self and plan for her future? She finds ways, but always within the constraints laid upon her. The glass palace is a strangely successful metaphor—like her life, it is transparent and fragile, yet obscure and powerful at surprising moments.

The writing itself is ordinary, even a bit purple in spots, but it does the job. Here is Celaena exploring a hidden passageway deep beneath her rooms.

Celaena soon found herself before the other two portals. What other disappointments would she find in them? She had lost interest. But the breeze stirred again, and it blew so hard toward the far right arch that Celaena took a step. The hair on her arms rose as she watched the flame of her candle bend forward, pointing to a darkness that seemed blacker than all the rest. Whispers lay beneath the breeze, speaking to her in forgotten languages. She shuddered, and decided to go in the opposite direction—to take the far left portal. Following whispers on Samhuinn could only lead to trouble.

Follow the whispering passages with Celaena and see what you find. I was afraid I wouldn’t like this book because of its “fighting assassins” premise, but that’s a surprisingly small part of the plot. The palace intrigue makes the book much richer than I expected. I think you’ll like this one.

The trailer’s not bad, maybe because it doesn’t attempt to be narrative.

Note for Worried Parents: Another teen book with violence and mature themes. Nothing too awful for teens, but not well suited for the under-12 crowd. 

A Review of The Unnaturalists by Tiffany Trent

In a steampunky new London powered by “myth,” a substance which is supposedly mined but actually has far more dire origins, Vespa assists her father in studying and even stuffing the Unnaturals, beasts like the Sphinx and little sylphs. But these imperialist scientists are denying what a boy named Syrus and his fellow Tinkers camping out on the edge of town already know—that the Unnaturals are sentient and are being exploited by the Empress in horrible ways.

The book is a dystopian fantasy, but it doesn't have a futuristic feel, so don’t let the genre make you think you'll be getting the usual post-apocalyptic fare. Instead you'll feel like you're in the nineteenth century as you follow Vespa’s perils and her attraction to a young Pedant named Hal, along with Syrus’s creepy adventures as he tries to fulfill the request of a great Unnatural in the forest to find the witch who lives in the city. Of course, that would be Vespa, but witchcraft is forbidden, and there’s a reason hers is just now beginning to make itself known. Then there’s her father’s assistant, the slimy Charles, who is also more than he seems. A group of vigilante magic-makers called Athena’s Architects rounds out the picture. Well, not counting a variety of creatures, including a particularly awful type of werewolf.

Vespa first meets Syrus in a way guaranteed to make her distrust him, which complicates matters when he finds out he must bring her to the forest. Hal is also not at all forthcoming about his plans, which leaves Vespa scrambling around trying to find out what’s going on. What she does learn changes everything she’s ever believed in. Here's a look at Vespa the young scientist as she travels through the Forest, where magic still hides:

The Wad and I both nod and follow him outside. Trees rustle their flaming robes along the road. We're in the Forest. Instinctively, I make the sign against irrationality to protect myself from pixie infestation. It's all I can do, since we've had no time to don nullsuits, if Father and Charles even remembered to bring them. Most young ladies my age would be terrified if they found themselves so unshielded on a Forest road that's likely teeming with Unnaturals.

I like Vespa for the most part, though I think Syrus is the more interesting character. The interplay between these two and Hal makes for good storytelling. One thing that struck me, though, is that Vespa’s story is told in first person, while Syrus’s is told in third person. It isn’t that distracting, but it just seems like an odd choice.

A major theme of the book is the clash between magic and science, or the numinous and the rational. Vespa starts out as a logical, scientific young lady, but she soon learns that the facts she’s been told about the world aren’t especially factual. She also discovers that she is not who she thought she was, and neither, in his way, is her father. This seems like a nice bit of symbolism for young adult readers who are busy trying to define themselves as someone other than their parents.

The Unnaturalists is a good read for anyone who enjoys steampunk and historical fantasy of the YA variety. Join Vespa in discovering that science isn’t everything, and magic is real.

Note for Worried Parents: This is a YA book, but I don’t think there’s any reason it can’t be read by older middle grade readers, especially 10- to 12-year-olds.

A Review of Seraphina by Rachel Hartman

It’s been a sad year, but a hopeful one as well. On the one hand, we’ve lost amazing writers like Eva Ibbotson and Diana Wynne Jones. On the other hand, we’ve seen the arrival of new voices that promise to add something unique and wonderful to the canon of literature for children and teens. These newcomers by no means take the place of the voices we’ve lost, but they do bring their own magic to the field (which makes me think of the field of care in DWJ’s Enchanted Glass). This book is a good example of what I mean. Like Rachel Carson’s debut, The Girl of Fire and Thorns, another Rachel’s debut novel, Seraphina, has grabbed me and won’t let go.

I should confess that I am not big on dragon books as a genre. I only got through the first Christopher Paolini book, for example. But Seraphina is more about inter-species and international politics, not the care and feeding of dragons. In Seraphina’s world, dragons are a lot like the Vulcans in Star Trek. They are highly logical, math- and science-oriented beings who despise and even fear the influence of human emotions. They are also musically gifted, though their performances may lack nuance because of their lack of emotional expression. The dragons can take human form, though most are required to wear bells in public as a way of acknowledging what they really are. To call the truce between Seraphina’s kingdom and the dragon kingdom uneasy is an understatement.

As for Seraphina, she has a huge secret to keep. In a society that is dangerously anti-dragon, she is the ultimate abomination—the child of a dragon and a human. Most people don’t even think it’s possible for the two species to mix. There are ways in which Seraphina’s dual nature betrays her, certain procedures she must follow to protect herself. Her love of music has led her to become the assistant to the royal music master, but this puts her at even greater risk. On top of everything, she is developing feelings for a member of the royal family, and he is off limits for more than one reason.

Hartman’s depiction of dragon society and its interaction with the humans is skillfully drawn, as is main character Seraphina with her complex struggles. We learn that Seraphina has a cast of characters in her head that she must manage or she will lose her mind. At the very least, she will have headaches and seizures. Is she mentally ill because she is part dragon, or is there another meaning to her carefully cultivated garden of odd beings? Seraphina has named each character and learned ways to keep them under control. Here’s an excerpt showing a visit to the mind garden:

Sick and exhausted though I was, I could not put off dealing with Fruit Bat. I hauled my bolster onto the floor, threw myself down, and tried to enter the garden. It took several minutes before my teeth unclenched and I relaxed enough to envision the place. Fruit Bat was up a tree in his grove. I prowled around the trunk, picking my way over gnarled roots. He appeared to be asleep; he also looked about ten or eleven years old and had his hair in knots, just as he had in the vision. My mind had apparently updated his grotesque to conform to new information. I gazed up at his face and felt a pang of sadness. I didn’t want to lock him away, but I saw no alternative. Visions were dangerous; I could hit my head, suffocate, give myself away. I had to defend myself however I could.

Those who hate the dragons along with the dragons themselves become increasingly aware of Seraphina as she is drawn into the rising conflict. I will add that her relationship with her tutor is intriguing and poignant, especially considering his own difficulty finding out where he stands when it comes to Seraphina and the dragon kingdom.

The palace intrigue reminds me a little of the politics in a Megan Whalen Turner book, while the murder mystery ratchets up the suspense as the possibility of a rogue dragon turns a diplomatic mission on its head. You'll find plenty of plot twists in this one. Most of all, though, Seraphina is satisfying because its main character draws you completely into her strange world and her even stranger troubles. And isn’t that what Young Adult fiction is all about, whether it’s set in a modern high school or a distant palace in a land where there are dragons?

I’m not crazy about the book trailer, but you might want to watch it.

Note for Worried Parents: This is a book for teens and has a rather mature feel to it. There is some talk of affairs, along with violence, especially hate crimes.


Update: Check out this interview with Rachel Hartman at Enchanted Inkpot!

A Review of Secret Letters by Leah Scheier

This one reminds me of the Agency series by Y.S. Lee. Some people might connect it to Laurie R. King’s adult mystery series about Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes, but I don’t know if I’d go that far. Secret Letters is the story of a girl who finds out she is not her father’s daughter; she is actually the daughter of Sherlock Holmes. In the first chapter of the book, Dora Joyce travels to London with her cousin, Adelaide (AKA Lady Forrester). Supposedly they are going to enlist the great detective’s help in getting some letters back from a man who is blackmailing Adelaide, but of course Dora wants to meet her birth father. She has actually been reading Dr. John Watson’s accounts of her father’s adventures and has taken up detecting in her country home, to the bewilderment and dismay of her relatives.

Unfortunately, Dora arrives at 221 Baker Street on the very day it is announced that Sherlock Holmes is dead. Dora swoons at the news. She is revived by a young detective named Peter Cartwright who appears to know something about Sherlock and maybe even about her. Dora and Peter are a classic clashing couple after the manner of Hepburn and Tracy. They begin to match wits, and later Adelaide hires Peter and his bumbling senior detective, Mr. Porter, to work on the blackmail case. In the meantime, Peter takes on the case of a missing young woman, Lady Rose. With some reluctance, he agrees to let Dora go to Hartfield Hall to pose as a maid and get some answers about the girl’s disappearance.

So that’s the setup, and Dora plays detective to her heart’s content, putting herself in great danger along the way and occasionally sparring with young Peter, to whom she is increasingly attracted. This is a fun read, but I found it less convincing than Lee’s series. The characters seem like actors in a play rather than real people, at least in parts of the book. At times they make choices that seem out of character. The most glaring example is when Dora sings and dances on a table in a country pub. Even though we are shown that Dora is a bold girl, her background does matter, and this particular incident seems forced and unnecessary. The breathless not-quite-romance and banter between Dora and Peter didn’t quite work for me, either. I also feel like Dora, while portrayed as a girl of action, is fairly ineffectual compared to Peter. Or rather, she gets herself into trouble being impulsive and determined, so then Peter and others have to rescue her. I expected her to be a little more cool-headed in certain ways, I suppose.

Here is a sample passage in which Peter is worrying about sending Dora off to the manor house:

When I re-entered the sitting room, Peter Cartwright was pacing by the window, chewing alternately on a cinnamon pastry and his thumbnail. The tension in his face had not eased at all; he appeared more distant and uncomfortable than before. I curtsied casually, but he stared helplessly at me without responding to my smile; even when I lisped out, “Well, Your Lordship?” [in character as the maid] he did not move.
     This was not the careless boy I knew; he seemed so awkward now, so raw and restless. I wanted to call out to him, to bring him back, to shake him, to be bold and silly so that he might mock me one more time. This creeping quiet troubled me, not just because it was unnatural for him but also because I was beginning to suspect that I was actually the cause of it. Was he doubting my abilities? I wondered suddenly. Was he going to change his mind and send me home?

Still, Secret Letters is not a bad read. I think a lot of people will enjoy it very much. And it will be interesting to see what Scheier does with Book 2, especially considering that, as most readers will be aware, Sherlock Holmes is not actually dead. I liked a cameo appearance by Dr. Watson near the end of the book, by the way (he goes unnamed).

If you’re up for this premise and don’t mind a middle grade read, you might also try Nancy Springer’s books about Sherlock Holmes’ much younger sister, Enola Holmes. They’re very good.

Note for Worried Parents: This is a book for teens, and there is some talk and a little peril having to do with seduction and unwed mothers.

A Review of Black Heart by Holly Black

Have you read Black's books, White Cat and Red Glove? No? Then stop reading this review and go do that.

Ready now? Of course, you had to read the other two books first, not just to avoid the perils of spoilers, but because this trilogy builds beautifully, and diving into the last book unprepared simply does not do Cassel Sharpe's overall story arc justice.

Okay. In Holly Black's alternate reality, certain people are curse workers—and naturally, they take on the role of crime families. Different curse workers have different gifts, such as changing people's memories, making people do what they want, and flat-out killing people. Everyone wears gloves, both as a fashion statement and because curses require skin-to-skin contact. Probably the best detail of all is that curse working affects the workers physically. For example, killing someone with a curse might mean losing a finger, as in the case of Cassel's death worker grandfather.

At first, Cassel doesn't even think he's a curse worker, though other people in his family are. That's before he finds out he has turned the love of his life, Lila, into a cat. Or that his ruthless older brothers have been using his special gifts and wiping his memory. Turns out Cassel is that rare thing, a transformation worker. He can turn something or someone into something else—completely and permanently, if he wants. Cassel frees Lila and she falls in love with him, but he discovers that her love has been manufactured by his mother. Then Cassel's older brother is killed, and he has to decide whether to work with the mob or the FBI.

As Book 3 begins, Lila is still avoiding Cassel because she learned the truth about her supposed feelings for him. Cassel and his brother Barron are now working for the FBI—sort of. Cassel doesn't really trust anyone. And now Governor Patton, who was magically conned by Cassel's mother, is trying to lock up all the curse workers. On the school side of things, Cassel's best friend Sam is having trouble with his girlfriend Daneca, who suspects the truth about Cassel. A girl named Mina asks Cassel for help, but Cassel smells a rat. Then there's Cassel's devious mother, who is being held hostage by Lila's mob boss father until Cassel can find a missing piece of valuable jewelry. The Feds want Cassel's help, too, but is that all they want? And can Lila forgive him before he gets himself killed?

Black Heart is a darkly rollicking page-turner for readers of urban fantasy and paranormal romance. The author has a way with words, and the touches of humor serve to counterbalance the essential darkness of the plot. Here's a look at Cassel in his boarding school dorm room with Sam. Cassel has just come back from a fight with a guy who dropped his gun:

I shoulder my way into the closet and step up onto a sagging box. Then, reaching under my jacket, I pull out the gun, and tape it with a roll of duct tape high on the back wall, above my clothes. I arrange a jumble of old books on the shelf just below it to block it from view.

"You've got to be kidding me," Sam says.

He clearly watched the whole thing. I didn't even hear him get up. I must be losing my touch.

"It's not mine," I say. "I didn't know what to do with it."

"How about getting rid of it?" he says, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "That's a gun. A gun, Cassel. A guuuuuuuun."

"Yeah." I climb down, hopping off the box and landing with a thud. "I know. I will. I just didn't have time. Tomorrow, I promise."

"How much time does it take to throw a gun in a dumpster?"

"I really wish you would stop saying the word 'gun,'" I say, flopping down onto my own bed and reaching for my laptop.

I like the way Cassel is very much a teenage boy, smart and clueless at the same time. He gets in trouble, bumbles a bit, somehow survives, and manages to figure out what he really wants in life. Holly Black has a great ear for humans, especially those of the teenage variety. Cassel is an imperfect hero, but that makes reading his story all the more enjoyable.

Note for Worried Parents: This trilogy is for teens and includes violence, sex, and criminal behavior. All three topics are presented appropriately enough in context, but the books are probably best suited for high school students. Then again, if you've been letting your 10-year-old read The Hunger Games, go right ahead.

A Review of Dragonswood by Janet Lee Carey

Wilde Island, A.D. 1192, where the dragons and the fay live in a sanctuary called Dragonswood. In a nearby village, Tess hides her own magical abilities or the fact that she sometimes slips away into the forbidden forest and has seen fairies and dragons. She has enough trouble dealing with her father the blacksmith, who beats her.

When the royal witch hunter comes to her village, Tess is quickly targeted. Under torture, she betrays the two friends who have visited the woods with her. The three girls barely manage to escape with their lives and hide in the forest. There they meet one of the royal huntsman, Garth. He gives them shelter, but Tess is afraid to trust him.

After taking new risks to make up for her earlier betrayal, Tess sees her friends settled. She also finds out some of Garth's secrets. Eventually Tess visits the fairy realm, where she discovers the truth about her own heritage. But the fairies, like her human father, seem likely to use her for their own purposes. And Tess has decided she has a purpose of her own. To get what she wants, she will have to make strange new allies and trick the tricksters who surround her.

Janet Lee Carey does some nice world building with her versions of dragons and the fairy kingdom, and juxtaposing them with witch hunters and political intrigue adds still more spice to the mix. She touches on themes of loyalty, betrayal, and forgiveness. What motivates people like the witch hunters, or like Tess herself? I found Carey's stubborn heroine especially appealing.

The trees of Dragonswood rustled in the wind along the boundary wall. Mist blew up from the sea and swirled at our feet like witch's hair. I looked to the pines, longing to scale one.

"When's the wedding, Tess?" Meg said.

"What wedding?"

"You're to marry Master Percival soon," Meg reminded me.

"Never."

"You're seventeen. If not Master Percival, it will be someone else."

I'd had other suitors; none were rich enough to please my father until this latest one. He wanted to rope me to an older man with money, one who kept his wife in the same fashion he'd kept his own. Master Percival had grown children. He'd outlived three wives already. I'd seen their bruised faces when I'd met them at the town well. The welts on their arms just like mine and Mother's.

"Wedlock is a hangman's noose," I said.

Dragonswood is a suspenseful adventure with a romance between Garth and a leery Tess that develops slowly and subtly. I very much appreciate the way the author actually ends the book, even while hinting at later books that will feature other characters.

Note for Worried Parents: This book for teens presents violence in the form of child and spousal abuse (see above), as well as torture and the threat of death from witch hunters. It also describes the fairies' random sexual promiscuity as part of their culture.

A Review of Grave Mercy by Robin LeFevers

Forget about Catherine, Called Birdy; it's time to meet Ismae! If your horrible father forces you into an arranged marriage in 1485, what you really want is to flee to a convent where the nuns specialize in training female assassins. Hopefully you'll get to kill some men who remind you of dear old dad. Except—Ismae isn't really her father's daughter. As the circumstances of her birth make clear, her true father is Death, or "St. Mortain." Once she has passed a test at the abbey (by not dying), Ismae finds happiness in her new life. She makes a friend named Annith and trades her father's endless beatings for intriguing lessons. She even learns to read. Ismae is especially good at poisons, and she meets a strange girl named Sybella who has apparently survived horrors worse than her own.

Soon Ismae is being sent out on an assassination mission. She succeeds, and another mission follows. But her third mission isn't like the others. Ismae is asked to accompany a man named Duval to the court of the young, uncrowned duchess of Brittany. There she will have to face intrigues for which she is thoroughly unprepared, including spying on Duval to see if he is loyal or a dangerous enemy.

As Ismae sneaks about the castle, you may be reminded of Elizabeth C. Bunce's Starcrossed or Rae Carson's The Girl of Fire and Thorns. Who can be trusted? Obviously not the brutal Lord D'Albret, who is trying to force the young duchess to marry him. Nor the French, who consider themselves to be in charge of the girl. But even though Ismae is feeling more and more like she can trust Duval, her contacts from the convent pressure her to find him guilty of treason.

LaFevers does a masterful job of showing how a sheltered, downtrodden girl can grow in confidence and purposefulness. Yes, there's an odd sort of romance brewing between Ismae and Duval, but the rest of the plot holds its own. The characters seem so real and ordinary and flawed that it's easy to forget you're reading a story. The world the author builds is a medieval one—with a twist. The language is smooth and clear. Here's a sample:

We ride all day. In the newly cleared fields, sheaves of wheat hang from a cross, begging for Dea Matrona's blessing on the harvest. Cattle graze nearby, feasting on the remaining stubble in the ground, one last fattening before slaughter. Indeed, the slaughter of animals for winter has already begun and I can smell the copper tang of blood in the air.

A few stone cottages are scattered throughout the countryside, squat and stubborn against the encroaching wildnerness. Most doors have a polished silver coin nailed to them, an attempt to discourage Mortain from casting His gaze on their households, since it is believed He will go to great lengths to avoid His own reflection. Those that are too poor to afford that small protection hang hazel twigs, in the hope that He will mistake them for the real bones He has come to collect.

One ongoing mystery in Grave Mercy has to do with the will of Mortain, or rather the mark of Mortain. Being Death's daughter gives Ismae certain powers. Taught that when she sees the mark on someone, she has the go-ahead to assassinate them, Ismae begins to wonder if the nuns got it quite right. This book is arguably a coming-of-age story as Ismae begins to trust her own judgment even when everyone around her says otherwise.

Grave Mercy is a long book, but a thoroughly satisfying read. The next book in LeFevers' His Fair Assassin series will be about Sybella, and it's a safe bet the third book will be about Annith. Definitely something to look forward to, not to mention a nice break from fallen angels!

Note for Worried Parents: This is a book for teens with some mature situations involving violence and sex (or the threat of both together). Though these scenes are handled tastefully, I wouldn't recommend Grave Mercy for tweens or MG readers.

A Review of Au Revoir, Crazy European Chick by Joe Schreiber

This is one of those books I wanted to read mostly because of the title, also because it seemed to have that Cohn/Levithan flavor. While Au Revoir is certainly a clever read, it zooms by a little too fast and will most certainly make you think of a screenplay treatment (as another blogger pointed out—can't remember who!). Big surprise: I did a Google search and discovered that this book is already being made into a movie. Oh, and the author is another crossover from the adult side. He's been writing horror novels.

So. You are likely to feel like you are reading a movie novelization with this one, and you wouldn't be too far off. Check out the action flick premise—a teenage boy has had a dull Eastern European exchange student staying at his house for a few months. Unlike the girl in Better Off Dead, this one is not attractive. She lacks social skills, too, and Perry Stormaire has been razzed by his friends for having her around. Even so, he has persisted in being kind to her. Then, just when his band finally gets a gig, his parents make him take Gobija to prom instead.

Pretty soon we've got what the book jacket copy bills as "Ferris Bueller Meets La Femme Nikita" because Gobi turns out to be, not only more hot than previously anticipated (Where are Clark Kent's glasses when you need them?), but also a woman with a mission. The kind that involves getaway cars (Perry's dad's Jag, to be precise) and flying bullets.

Perry handily plays the scared-but-decent schmuck in this scenario. He even gets to stop by for his band's performance. Meanwhile, the bullets just don't quit. Neither do Perry's gripes, shrieks, or attempts to escape. But one way or another, Gobi's going to get the job done. Leaving Perry to figure out just what she's up to, and why.

During the course of the evening, these two form an odd and somewhat romantic bond. Teens might get a kick out of the non-stop action and humor here, but actual readers may find themselves annoyed by the lack of multi-dimensional storytelling, not to mention by an overall sense of being commercially manipulated. That evokes an analogy, doesn't it? You, the reader, can be hapless Perry, while the marketing machine can be dark, driven Gobi. She basically holds him captive, as you can see in this passage:

She glanced at the lit office window twelve floors off the street, then back at me. "Here," she murmured, leaning over to wrap the plastic handcuffs from her bag around my wrists.

"Wait, what's this?"

She hooked the restraints through the Jaguar's steering wheel, cinching them to the skin.

"Ow, that's too tight!"

"Stay here."

"Like I could go anywhere!"

She reached into the bag and took out the gun I had seen earlier.

"Gobi, wait—"

She got out and sank into the shadows half a block off Pearl Street, a Lithuanian ninja. I jerked tentatively on the wrist restraints but that only made them tighter. She had left her bag sitting on the passenger seat, and I wondered what else she had in there—passports, more weapons, a bazooka?

Thematically speaking, we learn that Perry's dad has been really hard on him and kept him from developing his own identity. I'm not sure this works because the speed of the plot doesn't leave much room for it to be convincing. Gobi's mysterious backstory also suffers from the pell-mell pace of the book. Schreiber does manage to throw in a few plot twists, which I appreciated. The one truly great thing about Au Revoir is the chapter headers, each a supposed entrance exam essay question from a university. I think my favorite is "You've just written a 300-page autobiography. Send us page 217. (University of Pennsylvania)."

I won't say it wasn't fun reading this book, but I do feel a little cheap after the fact, as if my virgin strawberry margarita wound up having alcohol in it, maybe even a roofie.

Note for Worried Parents: There is a lot of violence in this one, as well as a couple of mature plot details having to do with sex. The book has a kind of comic book feel, however, so it's not as bad as it sounds. Still, we're definitely talking teens.

Also: I requested a copy of this book from Amazon Vine. Au Revoir, Crazy European Chick will be on shelves October 25.

You can watch the book trailer here.