Lost Lake House, by Elisabeth Grace Foley // New Release

(this is easily my favorite cover of 2016 thus far.)

Summary

The Twelve Dancing Princesses meets the heady glamor and danger of the Jazz Age

All Dorothy Perkins wants is to have a good time. She’s wild about dancing, and can’t understand or accept her father’s strictness in forbidding it. Night after night she sneaks out to the Lost Lake House, a glamorous island nightclub rumored to be the front for more than just music and dancing…in spite of an increasingly uneasy feeling that she may be getting into something more than she can handle.

Marshall Kendrick knows the truth behind the Lost Lake House—and bitterly hates his job there. But fear and obligation have him trapped. When a twist of circumstances throws Dorothy and Marshall together one night, it may offer them both a chance at escaping the tangled web of fear and deceit each has woven…if only they are brave enough to take it.

Novella, approximately 26,000 words.

My Thoughts

I don’t even know where to start with all the reasons why this book made me flail excitedly like a deranged penguin.

Let’s take it one at a time, shall we?

1). The writing has such vividry. It’s awash with vintage-movie glamour and lovely description and unexpected snappy bits of conversation that I loved. This is only the second novella of Foley’s that I’ve read, but I can safely say that she knows how to create the right atmosphere in a book and it’s wonderful.

And did I mention the descrip?

“On cloudy nights like this the lake and sky and island all melted into a uniform invisible black, so the blazing golden windows of the Lost Lake House seemed suspended in the middle of the lake like a floating fairy palace.”

2). You know a book is good when you have only two (extended) scenes where the main characters are actually together and you approve of them as a couple instantly. Dorothy and Marshall hit the perfect balance of a realistic friendship and attraction between two young people. The level of blunt honesty and bringing-out-the-best-in-each-other and chivalry and banter makes me happy. And how adorable and squee-worthy was it when Marshall gave Dorothy his sweater so she wouldn’t catch her death of cold?

3). Father/Daughter relationships in stories are my favorite. This particular one twisted my emotions every which way and I loved it so. *rewards Story with chocolate chips*

4). Dorothy is, hands down, one of the most relatable characters I’ve encountered in awhile. She is girlish and worries about things like shoes and friends and is so reminiscent of my own sixteen-year-old self more than four years ago. I remember clearly that frantic feeling of “I must taste life now” and being afraid that it would end up just leaving me behind without having properly participated in it. Her mad, unquenchable longing for something she loves (dancing) resonated with me deeply. As did her emotions halfway through the book of feeling trapped in a vicious cycle and not having the courage to break out of it. That hit me hard because, in essence, she was caught in both an addiction (which I would liken her desperate hunger for dancing to) and her own web of fear and lies. I’ve been in that position before as a sixteen-year-old girl and the memories Lost Lake House awoke were unsettling, but I know it helped me connect with the story and especially with Dorothy on a deeper level than I had before. It’s what made Dorothy’s choice and the book’s ending even more moving and beautiful to me than I anticipated. (Actually, I would go so far as to say that if you know someone who struggled/struggles with an addiction of some sort this book is one they should read.)

Lost Lake House is not shallow by any means, neither is it oppressively heavy. Rather it tells its story in a simply, beguiling way that makes an impact without ever going unnervingly dark. The book tugged me in with its magical essence and glamour, slowly wound me up into a state of unease and discomfort as the secrets behind Lost Lake House are revealed and Dorothy begins to feel her trapped position, and then the apprehension and anticipation (plus my sympathy for the poor girl) kept me glued to the plages until the world began to turn right-side up again and I reached The End with a lump on my throat and the best feeling of contentment only a bookworm can understand.

Lost Lake House was satisfying, folks. I can’t wait to read it again, and this time I will go slowly and savor it like I would a cup of particularly well-brewed mint tea.

*I received a free ARC from the author in exchange for a honest review

The Bells of Paradise, by Suzannah Rowntree // New release!

 

(can we all just take a minute to revel in the prettiness of this cover? O.O)

Summary

Only a madman would go into Faerie of his own accord.

The one thing John the blacksmith loves more than his peaceful, hardworking life in Middleton Dale is the tailor’s free-spirited daughter Janet. But unlike John, Janet dreams of adventure beyond the Dale. And when her dreams lead her into Faerie to be captured by a dangerous witch, John realises he must dare the perilous realm of the Lordly Folk to free his bride.
A poignant and profound retelling of the Grimms’ fairytale Jorinda and Joringel, set in the fantastical realms of Elizabethan folklore.

My Thoughts

I know I’ve said this before but Suzannah Rowntree’s writing is like decadent cake. And it only gets better with each book.

Pendragon’s Heir was delicious; The Bells of Paradise made for a delightful treat on an afternoon relaxing, like a sleepy kitten, in a patch of warm sunlight.

First of all, Suzannah Rowntree has a knack of making her fairytale re-writes feel, not so much like retellings, but like original fairytales themselves. The world of Bells is vivid and full and never too involved or overwhelming. I loved every glimpse of Faerie and the sense of otherness and fey just around the corner.

“Here were strange and preposterous marvels: mice the size of goats being sold, saddled, and bridled by little brown men, a lady in a gabled hood carrying a tiny lion like a lap-dog…”

Secondly, the hero of the story is refreshingly unique in that he isn’t some ardent youth off on a quest or a prince bored with his lot in life; instead John is a simple blacksmith, content with his world and his people until events upset the equilibrium of his life. I like that he is a reluctant hero–he would never even consider himself a hero, actually–and his journey throughout the story felt so real and near to my heart, despite the fact that I’m much more similar to Janet’s character. We only spend roughly an hour’s time with John (about as long as it takes to read the novella), but it feels like so much more, and he’s already one of my favorite male protagonists of 2016. The literary world needs more Johns, methinks.

Thirdly, the story of Bells itself is well-worth devouring. Again, it isn’t even that long, but there’s so much depth and richness to it. I love it when a book gives me chills, whether it’s from a character epiphany or a slice of gorgeous description or a bit of skillful plotting. In particular, every now and again a book will give me a fleeting glimpse of Sehnsucht, a tiny glimmering of the world beyond the tapestry, as Montgomery sums up so well:

“It had always seemed to Emily, that she was very, very near to a world of wonderful beauty. Between it and herself hung only a thin curtain; she could never draw the curtain aside–but sometimes, just for a moment, a wind fluttered it and then it was as if she caught a glimpse of the enchanting realm beyond–only a glimpse–and heard a note of unearthly music.”

 ~ Emily of New Moon, by L.M. Montgomery

A book that does that for me is a book I will treasure. The Bells of Paradise actually brought me close to tears from the dance of joy and beauty and fire that I could just barely see beyond the surface of the story. I had a similar experience recently with Golden Daughter and let me tell you, people, it’s not something you forget quickly.

So, if you love fairy tales or delicious writing or humble heroes or even just want a quick read to while away an afternoon, by all means pick up The Bells of Paradise. You will be glad you did, my friends.

*I received a free ARC from the author in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own.

I am Juliette snippets — in honor of Valentine’s Day

My current WIP I am Juliette (draft four) is strong on the love story front. Which makes me laugh actually because I always told myself that any book I wrote would have only romantic side plots — and then I go and write a tragic re-telling of Beauty and the Beast. 

I feel like there should be a moral to this.

That said, the couple in IAJ are near and dear to my heart. The Prisoner is trapped in a containment tube on a space-ship all by his lonesome until the ship’s quirky robotic owl Custodians decide to teleport someone to keep him company. Cue Juliette, all spunk and curiosity and sweetness wrapped up in a red dress.

And much feels and adorableness ensue.

// their interactions when they meet are my favorite ever.

“Did you just call me a nightmare?” I interrupted, lifting my eyebrows.

“Shut up, I’m thinking.” He frowned, his eyes still closed. “I’ve never asked a hallucination if it’s real or not before… so… maybe this is real.”

“You mean like how you’re supposed to pinch yourself to know if you’re dreaming or not and you never think to in dreams, but you do in actual, waking life?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I can answer that.” I pinched my wrist. “See? Not dreaming. Which means we’re both real.”

There was a silence, in which I counted eight seconds, then the man’s eyes opened and he looked straight at me.

“Hello,” I said, offering him my friendliest smile and a half wave. He didn’t answer, just looked me up and down, his eyes wide. They were brown like mine, but much lighter—almost hazel.

“Now who’s staring?” I teased.

// the dynamics between them are so much fun to write.

I gave up trying to win our stare-down and rubbed my eyes.

“Well, it was still nice of him,” I said, my voice muffled. “And I’d still like to thank him and yes, I know I can thank him later.” I hated how petulant my words sounded. “And yes, I probably should thank you too.”

“You’re very odd,” said the Prisoner thoughtfully.

I huffed a laugh.

“You’re not exactly ordinary yourself.”

// the Prisoner’s matter-of-fact way of looking out for Juliette makes me squee. 

“She appears whole to me,” the Owl chirped. My mouth twitched and I glanced over at the Prisoner who gave POND a look that should have melted him on the spot. The Owl merely shifted his grasp on my finger. His talons were cold and pointy and I felt his body vibrating from internal mechanisms — like the thrum of a living creature.

“Trust the human,” said the Prisoner. “Her hands are scratched. Make yourself useful and do something about it.”

// you fluffy, cute babies

“Red,” he finished.

“—scarlet,” I said simultaneously.

“Same difference.”

“Not quite.”

“Well, it’s not grey. And when you’ve been trapped in a place where everything is grey or black—”

“—or blue,” I interjected. “Ugh, sounds like a bruise.”

“No, not a bruise. Bruises are dark purple, and then they turn orange.”

I wrinkled my nose. “And now that we’ve established that.”

“You’re such a girl.”

// and did I mention the emotional pain? And just feels in general?

“You’re not real,” he whispered. “You can’t be real.”

I gulped back tears.

“I am real. I’m here with you.”

“No.” His frantic pulse echoed in my head. “You’re just another nightmare come to torment me.”

“I’m not. “My voice quivered. “I’m Juliette. Your friend.”

“I don’t have friends.”

//

Love is odd though.

It changes your perception of someone until you’re seeing, not just their face, but their personality. A sheet of paper with everything you love about them written all over it. And they are beautiful.

To me the Prisoner is like home and a wild storm and the sound of wind and the warmth of the sun all at once.

//

“I think… if I could trust anyone,” he opened his eyes and looked straight at me, “it would be you.”

//

Tears leaked from the corner of my eyes. The Prisoner watched me, the fingers of one hand tracing a pattern against the metal underneath it.

“Now, that we have that settled…” I swept strands of dark hair away from my face, adjusted my ring, and leaned my elbows on the tube’s edge.

“We’re supposed to be keeping you calm, and that—” I pointed back and forth between the two of us, “that wasn’t remotely the definition of calm.”

The Prisoner gave me a look.

“We’re human and we’re attracted to each other—not to mention, trapped together indefinitely. Calm is not our forte.”

//

I know what it is to live.

He only knows what it is to exist.

“I want him to be happy,” I whispered into the still air.

Then as his voice repeated those same words to me in my mind, I curled up on the cold glass and sobbed.

//

My broken, beautiful monster.

(now excuse me while I go and howl over my precious, battered babies. we writers are cruel. o.o)

 

 

Beautiful Books — Witchling (part two) // Also, NaNo updates

Time for Part Two of Beautiful Books!

According to the title, I also promised NaNoWriMo updates so let’s chat that first, shall we?

Last week my older sister and I went on a road-trip together. I didn’t get much written (about 1,000 words total) but it was wonderfully inspiring — everyone ought to try to road trip at least once per year. While we drove past rain-wet fields, deeply green pastures, forests of skeleton trees, and under the arc of pearl-grey sky, I spent a lot of time thinking about my books and planning my writing schedule out for the next few months. In a nutshell, with everything happening during the rest of November (helping a sibling move, fall-cleaning, Thanksgiving preparations, etc) realistically it would be well-nigh impossible for me to write 30,000 words on Witchling. Hence, I changed my goal to 10,000 which I reached this past Tuesday (YAY) and I am going to focus on Blood Thread for the rest of the month. I’m hoping to finish it before NaNoWriMo is over (Lordwilling) and I’ll spend the first two weeks of December editing and polishing it. It’ll be about 25,000 words long by the time I’m done and I have big plans for it.

So, there you have it! All the rest of my NaNo word-count will be going towards Blood Thread, and I feel much more at ease about my stress level — which has been higher because I’m sick right now. woe is me 

By the way, I am very curious about how your NaNo battle is progressing, folks! Tell me ALLLL about it in the comments, please and thank you. *gives everyone rejuvenating chocolate* And as for anyone not doing NaNo, I’m still curious about your writing, my precious.

Beautiful Books — Part Two

Is the book turning out how you thought it would be, or is it defying your expectations?

It’s has been a very obedient child for the most part, but at least three times it has suddenly darted from the beaten path and I’ve had to race after it and drag it kicking and screaming back.

What’s your first sentence (or paragraph)?

Oh, since you asked so nicely.

“The children are approaching, ma’am.”

(cue the suspenseful music.)

Are you a plotter or a pantser? Have you ever tried both methods and how did it turn out?

I’m a conglomeration of the two (plantser). My method is as follows:

Step One: Do a rough outline of the story with all the major plot points charted out.

Step Two: Trot merrily along from point to point and encounter all sorts of delightful shenanigans along the way.

Step Three: Become stuck with no idea how to get to Point (insert random number).

Step Four: Write a rough scene-by-scene outline.

Step Five: Write industriously with many moments of varied emotions.

What do you reward yourself with after meeting a goal?

Sometimes the warm, fuzzy feeling of having reached said goal is enough. If not, I break out my chocolate stash (it’s very small, but IT IS ALL MINE.) Other rewards include watching a TV episode, reading, sharing snippets with friends, browsing Pinterest…. basically anything I particularly enjoy.

What do you look for in a name? Do you have themes and where do you find your names?

I like names that have a snap to them. I like to toy with words and turn them into names — such as Prism. Most of my names are gleaned from meeting people, looking at gravestones, checking baby name sites… sometimes I look up names based on the meaning or I take foreign names/Latin words and manipulate them into my own thing. If I hear a name I like there is a 99% chance I’ll incorporate it into a book. And I always have a list of names in the back of my mind just waiting for that perfect character.

What is your favourite to write: beginning, middle, or end — and why?

Beginnings are wonderful, also scary. But I love the emotions of finishing a book. There’s nothing like it.

Who’s your current favourite character in your novel?

WHAT SORT OF QUESTION IS THIS I ASK YOU.

What kind of things have you researched for this project, and how do you go about researching? (What’s the weirdest thing you’ve researched?!)

I actually haven’t researched very much. I tend to leave that for the second draft. One thing I did look up was how to make souffles. Needless to say, I’ve been craving them since then.

Do you write better alone or with others? Do you share your work or prefer to keep it to yourself?

I write best when I’m completely alone in a room, but word wars are amazing things so I (politely) bribe/beg my friends and younger sisters for them. Sharing snippets of my work with others is terrifying and exciting all at once. I love it.

 

What are your writing habits? Is there a specific snack you eat? Do you listen to music? What time of day do you write best? Feel free to show us a picture of your writing space!

Sequester myself at my desk, turn epic music on, make sure my glass of water is near by and write like I’m being chased by all nine of the Nazgul. I can’t snack whilst I write because I find it too distracting. I write best in the morning/early afternoon. Rarely ever do I write in the evenings.

(stay tuned for Part Three next month!)

In other news, I voluntarily entered the black hole of k-drama last week (I know, I’m questioning my sanity too). I’ve only seen City Hunter so far, but it was glorious and has so many martial arts scenes and plot twists and it destroyed my feels. I literally sat there and sobbed when a Certain Character died, and I can count the times I’ve done that during a film on one hand. I’ve entered the ranks of k-drama fangirls and I love it. My family thinks I’m mental. I fully intend to drag them down with me. *maniacal laughter* It’ll be epic.

Alright then, cyberspacelings! Tell me all about your NaNo experience so far. How goes the war? Are your books/characters being good, little creatures? Are you a k-drama fan? If you’ve seen City Hunter, let’s chat!

In which I present the 2015 Blogger Awards finalists

  
 Well, then, everyone! 

Today we have the three finalists in my category of the 2015 Blogger Awards — Best Character.

The first two were easy to choose since multiple people nominated them, but the third was agony. I haven’t been in such indecision since I can’t remember when. 

Finally I narrowed it down to two names, wrote them on bits of paper, and had my sister jumble them up. Which worked beautifully. 

Without further ado, the finalists of Best Character are….

*music intensifies*

1. Isidore (A Wish Made of Glass)
2. Jace (The King’s Scrolls)
3. Perceval (Pendragon’s Heir)

Thank you all so much for your nominations, cyberspacelings! I couldn’t have done it without you. Now you only have to wait with bated breath for December 22th when I announce the winner. 

In the meantime, stay tuned because on Wednesday I am sharing something delightful that involves spectacular photos and the word sea, plus books — it’ll be epic!
Toodle-oo!

What Makes The Perfect Autumn TBR?

 

(image via pinterest. words are my own.)

Autumn. The nip of chilly air. Trees blushing rosy red. Dead leaves rustling like paper in the wind. The scent of bonfires and ripe, sweet apples. 

Something about the Fall season always makes my bones tingle with the longing to read, read, read — more so than usual, even.

Autumn is when I dig out mysteries and cozy novels and books that tend to run more than 400 pages long. Something about the season’s air is perfect for curling up in your warmest flannel with a novel that makes you deliciously frightened. Or sprawling out on your (quilted, soft) bedcovers with a book that keeps you breathless with laughter. And autumn breathes the feel of poetry, which means well-loved — and new — poets are in demand.

Annie’s Autumn TBR: 

–The Phantom of the Opera (first read)

–The Silver Branch (first read)

–Behemoth (first read)

–Jane of Lantern Hill (re-read)

–A Tale of Two Cities (re-read)

–The Wrath and the Dawn (first read)

-A few Shakespeare plays

–Flights and Chimes and Mysterious Times (first read)

–Rebecca (first read)

–Rooftoppers (first read)

–Pilgrim’s Inn (first read)

-A Scarlet Pimpernel book

–Fly Away Home (re-read)

–Halo: Fall of Reach (re-read)

–Ivanhoe (re-read)

–Winter (first read)

I also plan on reading a goodish amount of Wodehouse and Agatha Christie (pretend I haven’t been doing that already). Plus G.K. Chesterton’s Father Brown, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and C.S. Lewis, and various poets. 

And since this post fits the prompt, I’m linking up to the Broke and the Bookish.

Tell me all! What makes the perfect Fall TBR for You? What books/genres will you be digging into this season? Your Go To autumnal Read? And (this is important) do you drink cider whilst reading? Eat pumpkin pie? (Aimee and Amanda, I know you two don’t. We’re still friends, though. *gives you apple pie*)

I am Juliette sneak peek // the 7/7/7 challenge

  
The sweet Victoria and the inspiring Nicole both tagged me for what is called the 7/7/7 challenge. 

In a nutshell, I trot over to the seventh page of my manuscript, count seven lines down, and share the seven lines below that. LET US DO THIS.

Quick synopsis: I am Juliette is a light science fiction re-telling of Beauty and the Beast. A girl wakes up from hibernation on a starship with no idea how she got there or why. The ship appears to be deserted other than a few quirky robotic birds, but then she discovers a mad prisoner trapped in a containment cell. 

And many feels go down. *fangirls/cries inside*

The seven lines:

“A hospital?”

“Negative,” POND I chirped.

I tapped my lip, and looked the hall over once more. My gaze fell on the wall-sized image of a night sky, bright with stars. A planet shone in the remote background.

Holographic wallpaper, maybe. And is that supposed to be Earth?

//

And I shall tag…… Joy @ Fullness of Joy | Schuyler @ My Lady Bibliophile | Emily @ The Herosinger | Carmel @ CARMEL | Mirriam @ Wishful Thinking | Hanne-col @ Ain’t We Got Fun | Elisabeth @ The Second Sentence | and anyone else who wishes to participate! Don’t be shy, ladies and gentlemen.