Monday, September 30, 2013
Thought of the Day - Series Finales of books really need ratings
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Top 5 Sundays - Biggest Book Turn-offs!
This feature was thought up by the awesome Larissa's Bookish Life
Rules:
1 - Write a post listing your TOP 5 choices within the theme I chose (or was chosen on a poll) for the week.
2 - Mention this Blog on the post and link back to it.
3 - Feel free to use the Features image
4 - After you've finished your post, add your link (of the post, not your blog's main page) to the Mr.Linky at the end of that week's post.
5 – If you don’t have a blog to post, just leave your list in the comments =) Top 5 Sundays - Biggest Book Turn-offs!
* All of these things will make me second guess buying a book or think again about trying the author:
A lot of formatting or spelling errors...
Reading a book only to find out it was the sequel and not the first book...
A love triangle that makes no sense...
Forgetting that I've read a book before until I'm in the middle of it...
Buying a book thinking it's new/one I don't have only to find out that it just has a new cover...
Saturday, September 28, 2013
City of Devils - My Favorite Quotes/Lines
* Provided by Candlemark & Gleam/NetGalley for Review
* Spoilers are highlighted like so :)
“That’s the problem with hiring a human dick, ma’am.”
There was a long silence while we stared at each other.
Finally, I said quietly, “It’s just a figure of speech.”
“Would you like… more coffee?”
“Insane. What was it about humans that made monsters lose their damn minds?”
“It was an exciting and terrifying time to be alive.”
“It seemed to take him about a week to fully emerge, like the sun rising up over my imminent and brutal asskicking.”
“Goddamn it. Don’t make me die with my dick out.”
“...but what is life if not the continued search for new ways to invite fate to empty her bedpan on your head?”
“No means no, Imogen!”
“Killed by a human. That’s irony for you.”
Friday, September 27, 2013
Devilish Good Time - Here There Be Monsters (that you should read about ASAP)
* Provided by Candlemark & Gleam/NetGalley for Review
5 out of 5 gnomes
This
book made me smile so much while reading it. I love the noir
atmosphere, the plethora of puns, and the myriad of monsters that are
seen.
Nick
Moss is a human in a world where monsters are the norm and far
outnumber humans. He also happens to be the only human Private
Investigator and the actual police force consists only of werewolves or
wolfmen. This essentially means that it’s hard out there for a human.
The story takes place after two wars the one with Germany and The Night War, the
war the humans didn’t win. The Night War led the the monsters
overtaking everything. The setting really makes the story shine, well
that and the great supporting characters. If you’re a fan of noir
detective books or books about monsters that are fun/scary then this is a
book that you should check out ASAP.
Things
get very interesting when a client wants him to find her husband. This
client is a doppleganger movie star and puts Nick in the middle of a
lot of trouble with some important monsters. He seems to be a magnet
for trouble but also great at figuring ways out of these predicaments.
It’s
awesome to see all the different ways to scare off the monsters and how
each of these monsters works. I also thought that it was pretty
ingenious how these monsters actually do need humans and the reason why
they need them. Monsters trying to recruit in the human neighborhood
after dark made for some really funny lines especially from Sam the
Pumpkinhead who’s determined to turn Nick into one of his kind.
I don’t want to spoil anything so I’ll just say, Go for the monsters and stay for the mystery which is full of some delicious twists and turns where just about anybody could be the bad guy.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Sentence Sneak Peek - City of Devils
The first sentence from each chapter of City of Devils, it's a mini summary of what you can expect to read.
* Spoilers are highlighted like so :)
* Provided by Candlemark & Gleam/NetGalley for Review
“The man knocking on the outside of my office window had the head of a fly.”
“My new client left as elegantly as she arrived, and as soon as she was out the door, I grabbed my stuff.”
“I was up about a half hour before dawn.”
“I took a step into the room.”
“The problem with Evelyn Farrell is that there might not even be a crime there.”
“The Ophelia was Downtown, the first of several theaters planned for a new complex.”
“Before arriving home and vanishing into sandy air, Juba II had been at the office.”
“For lunch, I stopped by Castle Frankenfurter, a small silver diner a couple blocks from City Hall.”
“Visionary Pictures was located on a former orange grove, bulldozed and covered over with cement.”
“It took me a little longer than I liked to start driving home, mostly because I wanted to be certain the curse had worn off before I got behind the wheel of a thousand pounds of fast-moving steel.”
“I got to my neighborhood right as the sun dipped below the horizon.”
“Wake up.”
“I sat in my office with my heart pounding long after the two wolfmen left.”
“I got back in my car just as the day was starting to turn, tossing the sack lunch into the passenger seat.”
“You?”
“I approached the house cautiously.”
“The screaming started a second later.”
“There’s a problem with running from werewolves, and that’s the fact they’re faster than humans.”
“I yelped and immediately reached into my jacket for the evil eye charm.”
“Hexene was waiting in the living room when I got out of the shower.”
“I drove up to the Visionary lot and, for once, had sort of legitimate business there.”
“My pride was kind of wounded, sure.”
“The hearse and bikers rolled through the gates of Visionary with barely a word from Ugoth, who was now thoughtfully masticating half a swordfish.”
“We joined the streams of monsters going to and fro around the various stages of the Visionary lot.”
“What was that?”
“They didn’t laugh at me, really.”
“That was a shot of pure glacier into my veins.”
“I should thank my lucky stars she was a terrible shot.”
“Knocking on this particular door was awkward for a variety of reasons.”
“I realized it was a dream too late, as it went with all dreams.”
“I burned down Sunset as fast as the bike could move me.”
“I rejoined Hexene out front.”
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
"Waiting On" Wednesday - The House of Hades
"Waiting On" Wednesday is a weekly event, hosted by Jill at Breaking the Spine, that spotlights upcoming releases that we're eagerly anticipating.
This week I'm waiting on...
* Book will be released October 8, 2013
* This whole description is pretty much a spoiler if you haven't read the other books.
"At the conclusion of The Mark of Athena, Annabeth and Percy tumble into a pit leading straight to the Underworld. The other five demigods have to put aside their grief and follow Percy's instructions to find the mortal side of the Doors of Death. If they can fight their way through the Gaea's forces, and Percy and Annabeth can survive the House of Hades, then the Seven will be able to seal the Doors both sides and prevent the giants from raising Gaea. But, Leo wonders, if the Doors are sealed, how will Percy and Annabeth be able to escape?
They have no choice. If the demigods don't succeed, Gaea's armies will never die. They have no time. In about a month, the Romans will march on Camp Half-Blood. The stakes are higher than ever in this adventure that dives into the depths of Tartarus."
I'm finally just about caught up with the Heroes of Olympus series, I'm on CD 11 out of 12 from the 3rd book. I've been listening to all of them on audio which has been a great experience and really makes my drive to work fly by. I highly recommend you check out the audio it really brings the characters to life marvelously. With how I know the last book ends this book will either be super awesome or terribly scarring. I have a bad feeling that not everybody will make it out of this quest alive (I mean just take a gander at the cover of the book.)
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Gnometry Slam
Bibliognome:
This gnome loves all books
Collects them and stacks them high
Needs more time to read
Tiny Reverse Vampire:
Fugitive mothers
Wanted, hunted, by the watch
How I met my man.
- written from the point of view of Gwen from the book The Art of Stealing Time by Katie MacAlister
Monday, September 23, 2013
Question of the Day - What book have you been really looking forward to?
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Top 5 Sundays - Favorite Book Series {Any Genre}!
This feature was thought up by the awesome Larissa's Bookish Life
Rules:
1 - Write a post listing your TOP 5 choices within the theme I chose (or was chosen on a poll) for the week.
2 - Mention this Blog on the post and link back to it.
3 - Feel free to use the Features image
4 - After you've finished your post, add your link (of the post, not your blog's main page) to the Mr.Linky at the end of that week's post.
5 – If you don’t have a blog to post, just leave your list in the comments =) Top 5 Sundays - Favorite Book Series {Any Genre}!
These are the top 5 series that I thought of right off the bat:
- Love this series
- really brings Greek mythology to life.
- characters are fun, funny, and really make you care about them.
- This series is so addictive.
- You'll be wanting to know everything that happens to these characters.
- Each character has depth/great personalities.
- Can be fun, silly, serious, and pretty scary all in the same book.
- One of the first series I went out of my way to obsessively collect.
- I loved all the characters.
- Always fascinating to wonder what morphing would feel like and what animals would think.
- This series is dark yet magical.
- The world building and characters are all so fascinating.
- I would totally read a book from any character's point of view in this series.
- Such a great story.
- A world you can truly immerse yourself in to.
- The characters and story just draw you right in.
- These books are definitely one of the best re-reads out there because there is always something to enjoy.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Weekend Read - City of Devils
* Arc provided by Candlemark & Gleam for review.
Friday, September 20, 2013
Gnome Story - The Wicked Lawn: A Gnoir Tale by Justin Robinson
The Wicked Lawn: A Gnoir Tale
By Justin
Robinson
You look at the lawn, what do you see?
A
bright square of green, bordered by riots of yellow, orange, and blue, like a
stove’s flame. After that, the high, tangled hedges. And then the fence, the
final barrier defining this lawn as its own entity, calling it inviolate.
I see
a wicked home of nasty deeds.
The
name is Periwinkle Bumblebee, and I look after Mrs. O’Clanrahan’s lawn when
she’s sleeping.
That’s
what gnomes do. You think lawns stay so cheerful and welcoming on their own? Without
us they’d be nothing but patches of thirsty dirt, covered in squirrels and
birds, and the only flowers you’d ever see would be painted on the side of your
teapot.
When
the sun goes down, we wake up. That’s when the work starts. We keep the grass
green and healthy. We keep the flowers blooming. We make sure the place is
welcoming to blue jays and finches, and keep pigeons and rats away. And we do
it all because that’s just what we do. It’s who we are.
Sometimes,
though…it’s not enough. Looking at my lawn, anyone could see what was
happening. Mrs. O’Clanrahan’s grass wasn’t as green as it used to be. The
flowers weren’t as bright. The hedges weren’t as full. I did my job, sure, but
it was just that. A job. Ever since the battle. I took another swig of nectar
to forget, but the memories were always there, ready to crowd in if I ever let
my guard down even a little bit.
I was
sitting on a decorative ceramic turtle, drinking nectar right out of the flower
like the lush I had become, staring out over the wicked lawn and waiting
patiently for another night to be over so I could turn back into plastic and
fade gently in the sun. I heard the rustling through the hedge—not near the
hole in the fence where I always heard rustling, even in my dreams, but across
the lawn, in the direction of the Mendozas’ lawn. They emerged from under the
fence single file, their conical hats bobbing and swaying, like windblown
blades of grass.
There
were eight by my count, though it took longer to see the ladies, whose hats
were a little less suggestive than those of the men. They were gnomes of
course, like me, and I could rattle off their names and lawns like that still
mattered. Their eyes were on me, glittering in the lights from the Christmas decorations
next door; Mr. Whigham still hadn’t taken them down. When they got close to the
border where the grass stopped, marked by the line of soil near the fence with
the sprouting orange poppies, they stopped and removed their hats one by one.
Their
brows furrowed, and several of them seemed much more interested in what was
going on with their feet than me over on my fake turtle.
“Screw
off,” I suggested pleasantly.
“Mr.
Bumblebee, please!” It was Heddleton Schnitzelface talking; he looked after the
Mendoza place. Schnitzelface was as close as we got to a leader, and he got
that distinction by having the whitest beard and the jolliest laugh. It wasn’t
the best method to pick your leaders, granted, but it was how things were done
when you were a gnome. “We need your help. All of us!”
“Why
me, huh? This place look like it’s in tip-top shape?” I gestured out at the
lawn, where the tips of the grass were ragged and gray-brown.
“You saved it once. Back when—”
I
don’t know if I heard the happy meows and ecstatic purring in my head or if it
was coming from the section of fence I never looked at now. “That was in the
past!” I took another swig of nectar. “That’s not me anymore. I’m retired. Just
me and my friend here,” I said, patting the ceramic turtle on the head.
“You
don’t understand, Mr. Bumblebee. The hedgehogs have... organized.” The
assembled gnomes murmured at one another, concerned about what was happening.
I
wasn’t about to take the bait. I was going to drink my nectar and stare over
Schnitzelface’s shoulder at the hummingbird feeder that had been empty for
weeks. Was a time I would have cleaned the crusted sugar from the spouts that
looked like plastic flowers and refilled it immediately. Back when I was a
different gnome.
Not
that this stopped Schnitzelface. He waited, mopping a powdery brow, and when he
saw I wasn’t gonna speak up, continued. “They started over at the Nguyen place,
then moved into the Keough lawn, then the Van Owens... and they won’t stop.” As
he named each family, the gnome in charge of that lawn bowed his or her head in
shame. “The hedgehogs say the hedges are theirs now. We have to give them
tribute!”
“Hogging
the hedge, huh?” I snorted.
They
nodded solemnly. I was busy drinking, so I couldn’t cut the old man off when he
declared, “You’re the hero of the Battle of Mrs. O’Clanrahan’s Flowerbed, No
Not the One Out Front, the One Under the Kitchen Window—”
It was
a long drink.
One
that I mostly spat out onto the dirt while sputtering, “That’s not me anymore!”
“You
have to be, Mr. Bumblebee. You’re our only hope.”
He
knew that was the final entreaty, and knew I wasn’t going to say anything. The
gnomes filed out across the lawn. I watched them go, trying to shut out the
purring now rumbling through my head. I threw the flower down and stalked along
the border of the hedge. They didn’t know what I lived with every day. They
just knew I was the guy. That guy. When
the cats were pooping in Mrs. O’Clanrahan’s flowerbed, no not the one out
front, the one under the kitchen window, I was the guy who solved the problem.
And I
had to live with what I had done every day. The glassy eyes. The splayed
bodies. The happy purring.
“And
where do you think you’re going?”
Two
fat hedgehogs lounged against the fence, right by a newly dug burrow into the
yard. My yard. One of the hedgehogs pushed off from the fence to waddle over
while his friend resolutely chewed on a dandelion stem. The lead hedgehog got
right up into my face, giving me a whiff of grass-breath. “Don’t you know where
you are?”
“On my
lawn, last I checked,” I said to him.
“Your
lawn. Hear that, Professor Cuddles?”
His
friend chuckled. “Sure did, Bitsy Pookums.”
“No,”
said Pookums, “this is our lawn. We’re
generous, though. You can keep living on it. We mostly want the hedges.”
“And
if I say no?”
Professor
Cuddles moved up next to his friend, and both of them loomed over me like a
tubby eclipse. “Don’t say no. We’re coming tomorrow and setting up shop here. And
as long as you stay smart, nothing on you has to break.” Professor Cuddles
punctuated his friend’s threat by packing a furry fist into his paw. They
stared through me for a couple seconds, making sure I understood the gravity of
my situation. Then Pookums turned and waddled back for the burrow. Professor
Cuddles did a fake lunge, and even though I stayed as still as I do in the
daytime, he still chased me with a mocking laugh.
Alone
on the lawn. Alone for good. And letting Mrs. O’Clanrahan down. That hedge was
hers, not the property of some pudgy mafia. I couldn’t help it. My eyes went to
the flowerbed. No, not the one out front, the one under the kitchen window. The
snapdragons were coming in nicely, a splash of yellow against the crisp blue of
the house. Wasn’t too long ago that flowerbed was nothing but a swatch of dead
dirt.
And then
I was there. Seeing it again and again. The few plants that could manage poking
resolutely up from the dirt, others trampled or worse. Every cat in the
neighborhood coming under the fence to do his business in that spot. Killing
everything that tried to take root. Nothing Mrs. O’Clanrahan could do about it.
That
was where I came in.
I
tried everything to keep the cats out. I seeded the flowerbed with sharp rocks.
I covered the sides with any number of plant extracts. I tried physically blocking
the cats. Nothing worked. They pawed the rocks away. The ignored the extracts. They
jumped over me or knocked me down.
And
Mrs. O’Clanrahan’s flowerbed suffered for it.
And I
suffered for it, too.
At
wit’s end, I wandered the neighborhood until I came to the Taylor house. Mrs.
Taylor was an older lady who collected cats, though none of them were among the
ones who had turned Mrs. O’Clanrahan’s flowerbed into a litterbox. I saw why,
and as soon as I did, the solution was right there.
The
horrible, monstrous solution.
The
next evening, I had waited at the entry to the fence where the cats got in. The
first one, a big orange tabby, was already coming in to do his unholy business
on Mrs. O’Clanrahan’s snapdragons. He paused at the gap, sniffing it. Then he
scraped his cheek over it, again and again. Soon another joined, a Siamese with
eyes as blue as the bug zapper hanging from the Mendoza porch. She repeated the
same ritual. Soon six cats were happily rolling around on their backs, rubbing
against the hole. Their eyes were glassy, their purrs rattled through the yard.
I had smeared the hole with catnip. I was their pusher. Their dealer.
I
turned away from the hole, trying to forget my crime. But they were still
there, coming to get their fix. Every night. That was the price of Mrs.
O’Clanrahan’s snapdragons.
My
soul.
But I
still had a little bit left. A little bit of my soul to spend. And I’d do it,
for Mrs. O’Clanrahan. Because that’s what it means to be a gnome. That’s what
it means to love the lawn so much it tears you up inside until there’s nothing
left.
The
next night, I waited by the burrow. And they came. Bitsy Pookums and Professor
Cuddles and a bunch of their hedgehog friends. But then they saw what was
waiting for them: a half-dozen cats, all playful and happy, ready to have some
squeaky-toy fun with the new residents. Baked out of their minds on Mrs.
Taylor’s catnip.
“Whose
lawn is it now?” I asked them.
“This
ain’t over, gnome!” Bitsy Pookums shouted, shaking his furry little fist as he
and his friends retreated into the burrow.
“I
know,” I murmured. “It’s never over.”
I told
the other gnomes what to do and they did it. Maybe some of the cost came out of
them. I don’t know. All I knew was that the lawn took its due, no matter what. And
I knew that the lawn was a wicked home of nasty deeds.
But it
was also mine.
-FIN-
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)