ARC Review: Into the Still Blue (Under the Never Sky, #3) by Veronica Rossi

Title: Into the Still Blue (Under the Never Sky, #3)

Author: Veronica Rossi

Rating: 4 Stars

Release Date: January 28th, 2014

Into the Still Blue has been a novel I have anticipated ever since I closed the covers of Under the Never Sky. Even before Through the Ever Night released, I wanted to know the fate of these characters who had become so beloved. Veronica Rossi, as expected, delivers magnificently, tying up all loose ends in a conclusion that is wholly satisfying. While this novel is not my favorite of the trilogy – Under the Never Sky still holds that position – it only emphasizes how difficult it is to pinpoint any flaws in this debut series. It’s not so much that Rossi’s novels are perfect, but rather that they are flawless in their imperfections. And if you thought your heart tore apart in Through the Ever Night, be prepared for an emotional journey that will wreck your body seven-fold.

Into the Still Blue picks up directly where Through the Ever Night leaves off, leaving the Tides in a precarious situation, the world around them in an even more tumultuous state, and the score of enemies in the horizon only increasing in number. Although Rossi ends each of her novels on a satisfying note, never leaving her readers with cliffhangers, it is quickly made clear that not all is as content as is suggested by the last few lines of Through the Ever Night. Not only are tempers rising – Roar’s grief, Perry’s underlying distrust of Aria, Aria’s guilt, the expectations of the Tides – but the stakes have risen too. Where Through the Ever Night was a much slower, introspective, and character-driven look at the tensions prevalent in this trilogy, Into the Still Blue is one-third heart-pounding action, one-third kick-ass planning, and one-third straight-up emotional upheaval. In other words, it’s not a journey you’re going to want to miss.

In retrospect, it’s easy to look back on this trilogy and pick apart everything that could have gone wrong with it. After all, Rossi deviates from the typical dystopian route almost completely. Not only do Aria and Perry fall in love – and have sex – all within the span of the first book itself, but the consecutive novels explore the growth of their relationship without a love triangle. Roar, who could have easily become another prospective love interest, is kept firmly in his place as best friend – first to Perry, then to Aria, and ultimately to them both. Moreover, the plot direction of this series has been clear-cut from the start. It is no secret that once Aria and Perry’s romance took off, the next goals were to assimilate the separated groups of humans and find a way to reach the Still Blue, escaping the dangerous Aether realm. Unlike a classic dystopian venture where the ultimate outcome is shrouded in mystery – Allegiant, anyone? – this trilogy banks upon its characters. In them, we are constantly taken by surprise; our emotions deftly played with. It is a shock to see a character-driven dystopian series; one not focused on plot, but rather the complex relationships between people. And yet, I doubt I can ever pick up a trilogy driven forward by plot again; Rossi’s method works far too well.

Where Into the Still Blue shines is in slowly unraveling all that we, as the readers, rely on. Perry and Roar’s friendship is ripped to shreds within the opening chapters; Aria and Perry’s relationship must work to become stronger after their past ordeals; Perry only continues to struggle between his emotions and his duty. Needless to say, it left me writhing with FEELS all throughout, but the payoff was more than worth it. Everything about Into the Still Blue felt so cohesive merely because Rossi drew upon plot threads from the past two books, bringing them back to examine their impact on her characters over time. Whether it be the uncovering of Aria’s father, the mysteries behind the existence of the Still Blue, or even just the gradual solidification of past relationships, Rossi leaves no stone unturned.

Into the Still Blue, despite its character-driven qualities, never fails to surprise with the influx of new – and old – secondary characters. Soren, in particular, undergoes a drastic amount of change in this novel, representing the gradual mix of Dweller and Savage. Moreover, as the hunt to rescue Cinder gets underway, everyone from Sable to Kirra is brought back to the center stage. Rossi gets ambiguity like few authors do and no one, from Roar to Sable, is without it. Not only are the villains in this novel complex, never cold-cut black-and-white, but the heroes are too. We’ve seen the bulk of Aria and Perry’s struggles in Through the Ever Night, which makes Into the Still Blue a very much Roar-centric storyline. A favorite of many, Roar is not without his flaws, as Rossi makes evident, but these imperfections only increase our love for him.

It is difficult for me to articulate just why this novel excels as a conclusion without giving away important plot threads. I feel as if I can only re-iterate that the character interactions in this novel are infused with so much depth that more than one re-read is necessary to understand their unspoken tones. Moreover, the evident themes in this novel are heart-breaking, particularly that of sacrifice. Rossi has never shied away from character deaths, whether it be in Under the Never Sky or in Through the Ever Night, which only means that she brings out all her guns in Into the Still Blue. And yet, I really appreciate the manner and meaning which Rossi brings to these characters – deceased or on the brink of death themselves. Furthermore, the invisible threads that connect all these characters to one another ensure their survival, at least in memory, which is far more important than it seems.

If Into the Still Blue has any flaws, it is only in its rather rushed conclusion. Rossi paces every scene perfectly, never dragging-out the romance or rushing the action. And yet, towards the end, I felt as if the full repercussions of the last few events could have been explored in greater depth. Additionally, I felt as if a few momentous scenes are a bit…anti-climactic. It’s not to say that Into the Still Blue didn’t end perfectly – it did – but I wished for a little more to it as well. With this trilogy bursting from the seams in its flawlessness, however, I have little to complain about. Into the Still Blue is, truly, the only ending I could have imagined for these characters and this world. While the narration itself is never tinged with bittersweet longing, my heart certainly is. I can only wait for Rossi to deliver yet another incredible series; I feel empty without one to look forward to.

Mini-Reviews: The Ocean at the End of the Lane & World After

Title: The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Author: Neil Gaiman

Read By: Neil Gaiman 

Rating: 4 Stars

It's a little embarrassing to admit that I've prolonged listening to this short story as much as I could, only because I didn't want to leave behind Gaiman's voice. (I promise you, that sounds a lot creepier than it actually is!) Needless to say, the audiobook of this novel is mesmerizing. Gaiman doesn't just read this story in his astonishingly lovely accent, he narrates it, infusing life into the words he has written. It makes for an extremely atmospheric listen and has ruined me for all print Gaiman books, which poses an issue as I'll likely have to wait years to get my hands on another Gaiman audiobook if the waiting list at my library is any indication.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane neatly crosses over the line from childhood to adulthood, exposing the flaws we grow up to notice in our parents, the adult figures around us, and the general ambiguity of morals. It is haunting, digging into the corners of your mind with the nostalgia it evokes; shocking, much like that first gasp of air after your head has been underwater too long; silent, stewing in your thoughts, growing into a novel of much larger magnitude than its size deceives it to be.

Gaiman's latest forced me to think, making me connect pieces from childhood to adulthood, and I feel enriched having read it. It's a quiet story with quiet characters who lead quiet lives. It isn't pretentious, it isn't bursting in your face (or ears, in my case) with revelations and, chances are, its open epilogue will leave you with more questions than answers. If you're anything like me, though, that's more than just a little okay.

Title: World After (Penryn and the End of Days, #2) 

Author: Susan Ee

Rating: 4 Stars

The long-awaited sequel to Ee's stunning debut, Angelfall, pales in comparison to its predecessor, proving to be a let-down after the excruciating wait for its release. Yet, when analyzed alone, World After is an entertaining, thoughtful, and unpredictable installment. In many ways, Angelfall is the story readers wanted: angel apocalypse, an unlikely alliance forged between enemies, and plenty of witty banter topped off with a kick-ass heroine, brooding hero, and scenes of resistance that keep the spirit of humanity alive. What's not to love? World After, on the other hand, is the story that readers need: the wake-up call into the brutality of survival, the flaws exposed in beloved characters, the struggle to persevere - alone - in a world that is, literally, changing. Although I won't be re-reading Ee's latest as much as I've re-read her debut, there is no denying that this is a powerful, vital, and necessary installment to the story arc of this five-part series. Susan Ee, once again, I applaud you.

World After struggles in its beginning, pulling readers into the world Penryn must now face, alone and saddled with her crazy mother and monster sister. It is a bleak place, one which seeks to destroy what it doesn't understand, namely, Paige. After being experimented upon by angels, Paige is no longer completely human. When she escapes the resistance camp where Penryn and her mother are lodged, the frantic search to re-unite their family begins once again. Where Ee excels as a writer is in the complexity of emotions that Penryn feels towards her family. Out of the three of them, she alone is in full control of both her sanity and humanity, which makes her connection to them burdensome. And yet, nothing is that simple. Penryn yearns for the security of a mother's embrace, the companionship of a sister, and the emotional safety that only a family can provide. Just because her definition of family is an unconventional one by no means disregards its value in her life.

Ee expertly weaves these complicated emotions into a heart-pounded storyline, filled both with action and desire. World After not only gives us a glimpse into these unusual family dynamics - filled both with love and bitterness - it also presents us with the much-needed world-building to propel this series forward. As an added bonus, we are given brief shots into Raffe's past - intriguing, to say the least - which only heighten his role in the series. While much of this novel centers around Penryn, a decent portion is dedicated to her reunion with Raffe and the events that follow. World After lacks the continued development we may crave from this couple, leaving us with a few dangling lines but mostly keeping this pair's interactions at the same level as they were in the previous novel. Needless to say, I am keeping my fingers crossed for an enormous amount of growth on this front in the sequel. At the end of the day, however, World After delivered with a heroine who is capable, strong, and flawed, not quite the hero we may think her to be, and once again, this is Penryn's series. While the secondary characters are enriching, none of them overtake the plot, which proves for a refreshing read. I can only hope the rest of this series continues on the same growth curve - up, up, up.

ARC Review: Being Sloane Jacobs by Lauren Morrill

Title: Being Sloane Jacobs

Author: Lauren Morrill

Rating: 2.5 Stars

Release Date: January 7th, 2014

If there is anything flawless about Being Sloane Jacobs it is its marketing campaign. Morrill has been launched as a chick-lit, contemporary romance author, akin to Stephanie Perkins, and while that isn't an altogether apt comparison (in my opinion), it isn't incorrect either. What I appreciate about this novel is that I knew what I was getting into even before I cracked open the cover: pure, mindless entertainment. Being Sloane Jacobs is the type of novel where you are forced to overlook the little details that fail to fit together, compelled to push aside the gaping plot holes that don't add up, and just read. For readers who were disappointed that novels like Just One Year promised endings that didn't happen, Being Sloane Jacobs is a relief, giving exactly what it says it will. For others, however, who anticipate the hidden depth in every novel, this story may just prove a little too juvenile, a lot too short, and a slight bit disappointing by the end.

Sadly, one of the best aspects of this story is its synopsis. Sloane Emily Jacobs, the daughter of a senator running for re-election, is a figure skater - one who desperately needs to re-launch her career after failing to perform well the past year. Sloane Devon Jacobs is an ice-hockey player - one with a bit of an anger management issue - who hasn't been playing her best lately. When the two Sloane Jacobs meet on their way to their respective figure skating and ice hockey summer programs, they decide to switch places. With similar builds and a desire to escape the mounting pressure they feel, Sloane Devon Jacobs goes off to figure skating camp while Sloane Emily Jacobs rushes off to play ice-hockey. As it turns out, however, running away doesn't solve your problems...not even close.

While the plot for this novel is similar to The Parent Trap, an important difference is the fact that these two Sloanes are running away from their lives. Not only do they belong to different social classes - rich and middle class - but their family issues are also vastly different. Yet, they find a thread of connection in their loneliness, fear, and inability to face their difficulties head-on. Needless to say, Morrill nails this issue in her sophomore novel, capturing the sinking feeling of despair and helplessness that so many teens feel. Where Being Sloane Jacobs faltered, however, was in the missed opportunity and lost potential for this concept to develop further. Both Sloanes, after a few initial difficulties, acclimate into their new lives with ease, making friends and learning their new sports with ease - a little unbelievable, don't you think? Moreover, they both find incredibly sweet love interests who - unfortunately - become a large part of the narrative.

With a plethora of issues at hand, this 352 page novel just didn't cover it all. Sloane Emily and Sloane Devon's growth is rushed and limited to the last few chapters, the development sloppy and lacking the layers of depth it could have had. Additionally, the guys these two girls fall for have their own share of problems which could have been explored to a larger degree as well. Mostly, however, the issue lies in the fact that Being Sloane Jacobs is far too much surface-story and too little depth. With alternating perspectives - that worked really well, surprisingly - Morrill could have easily focused this story on the inner dilemmas both these girls faced. Instead, there's unnecessary romantic drama, a large focus on proving these girls can master another sport, and a hasty epilogue that does little to the story as a whole. I wanted a novel about two girls who gained the courage to face their problems - and formed a tight friendship along the way - but the relationship these two Sloanes share lacks a true bond and the strength I wanted to emerge from these girls happened far too quickly, far too late.

Ultimately, I couldn't overlook the plot holes or missed opportunities in this narrative to enjoy the story within these pages. It is entertaining, certainly, and compulsively readable, forcing me to flip page after page even when I was bedridden and sick, but it lacks more than a little something to make it memorable. Both Sloanes are forgettable heroines, their journey unremarkable and childish, reading more like a middle grade comedy than a young adult contemporary piece. Being Sloane Jacobs will find its place among shelves of beloved readers - certainly - but it won't be replacing Anna and the French Kiss anytime soon on mine.

Review: Drowning Instinct by Ilsa J. Bick

Title: Drowning Instinct 

Author: Ilsa J. Bick

Rating: 3.5 Stars 

I've been wanting to read Drowning Instinct ever since I first laid eyes on its cover. Admit it: it's powerful. Unfortunately, the story Bick regales is more insane than powerful. Granted, I appreciate the moral ambiguity of the characters Bick has sketched, not to mention the complexity of their situations, but ultimately, this novel lacked a little something. Hope? Heart? Or maybe just purpose...

Drowning Instinct's first few pages are a dream, an intrusion into an original form of storytelling that truly worked, both for me and the novel as a whole. Jenna, our sixteen-year-old protagonist, is asked to speak into a recorder and tell her story. For me, reading Jenna's tale told through frank conversation made it easier to slip into her past. Yet, Jenna is chock-full of problems. Not only does she carry the burn marks of a terrible incident, complete with scars from cutting herself, but her family has a history of mental illness, her mother is an alcoholic, her father is constantly having an affair with a new woman, and her parents' marriage is falling apart. Moreover, Jenna's older brother is in Iraq and a taboo subject in their family. On one hand, Bick handles Jenna's issues cleverly, ensuring that they each are given an ample amount of screen time, but these multiple issues only served to make Jenna a sympathetic character. When stripped of her mental illness, her suicidal tendencies, her horrible family...there is very little to Jenna herself. Thus, I can't say I was a fan of this blatant attempt to garner feeling for the main character.

Due to its purposeful format, recounting events of the past, Drowning Instinct moves at a quick pace. It is nearly impossible to set down, merely because the reader simply has to know what is going to happen. Jenna is vulnerable and isolated because of her brokenness, so when Mr. Anderson, her chemistry teacher, reaches out a hand of kindness, Jenna grabs on. At first, Mr. Anderson is nothing more than a supporting teacher, willing to listen to Jenna, ensuring she gets home safely when her mother forgets to pick her up, and saving her from situations of molest. And yet, despite these kind acts, there is a niggling sense that something is wrong. It is; something is very, very wrong, for Mr. Anderson is just as screwed up as Jenna is, torn down by his past. In many ways, these two seek comfort and solace in one another, seeking to help each other stay above the water, not drown. Admittedly, a story of two people healing one another isn't so bad, but a sixteen-year-old girl and a teacher? It's more than a little sickening.

Where Drowning Instinct becomes interesting, though, is in the fact that Mitch Anderson really isn't painted to be a monster. If anything, he gives Jenna the support and courage she needs to begin facing her problems. With her parents dealing with their own doses of crazy, Jenna desperately needs an adult figure in her life to help her and, despite the nature of their relationship, Mitch does help Jenna - immensely. Although Mr. Anderson is proven to be many things, including a liar, Jenna can never forget the fact that he was there when she needed someone, even if it was just someone to listen to her. Nevertheless, I did feel as if the ending to this novel was a cop-out on Bick's part. Everything was tied up a little too openly, a little too loosely, and yet a little too neatly at the same time. We don't know if Jenna is ever going to be alright and, even worse, we have no hope for her future. Although I applaud Bick for tackling a taboo subject and putting it into a difficult perspective, either than her message of moral ambiguity, nothing else is left.

I don't think I can recommend Drowning Instinct. It's written well, filled with three-dimensional characters, and is impossible to put down. Yet, those final emotions that linger even after a book is over were bleak and confusing. Tabitha Sazuma's Forbidden tackles a taboo subject - an incestuous relationship - in a way that is far more effective and emotional. Drowning Instinct, on the other hand, holds you at arms length so that the greatest emotion you're likely to feel is shock. Bick's story isn't for everyone. I don't even think it was for me.

Mini-Reviews: One & Only by Viv Daniels and Through the Smoke by Brenda Novak

Title: One & Only (Canton, #1)

Author: Viv Daniels (a.k.a. Diana Peterfreund) 

Rating: 4 Stars

One & Only is a surprising read, primarily because it’s a New Adult novel with a modicum of depth, complexity, and true worth. Forget the mindless, steamy novels you’ve known and imagine – just for a moment – a novel about an intelligent young woman, a bioengineering major, whose main goal in life is to never follow in the footsteps of her parents. It sounds familiar, doesn’t it? After all, which teenager, fresh off to college, doesn’t set off with the hopes to distinguish themselves from the people who have brought them up? Moreover, which teenager wants to repeat the same mistakes of their parents? In her debut, Daniels writes a story that is one-part family, one-part friendship, one-part college, and only two-part romance. If that isn’t a formula for success, I don’t know what is. 

Of course, from the surface, One & Only is a love story. Tess, the illegitimate daughter of a millionaire, has lived with her single-mother all her life, abiding by the rules her father lay down for her and even attending the state college he commanded she study in lest she meet her half-sister in the prestigious Canton College she desires to attend. Thus, when Tess earns a scholarship to a summer program in Cornell the summer before her freshman year, she whisks herself away to a summer of scientific immersion. It is there that she meets Dylan – cute, intelligent, and ever-so-slightly nerdy – and sparks fly. But Tess knows better than to start a long-distance relationship and after that summer, she never meets Dylan again. Until, that is, she transfers into Canton after two years. Only, this time, while Tess is determined to make her relationship work with Dylan, he isn’t as available as he was two summers ago. And this time, he’s dating her half-sister, Hannah. 

What makes One & Only such a spectacular novel, aside from the fact that the messy romantic relationship is dealt with in a tasteful manner with little to no angst or drama, is the fact that the relationships drawn up throughout the story are authentic and realistic to this age group. Tess must not only balance school work and a job, but she struggles under the burden of her secret as an illegitimate child. Yet, her relationship with her mother is strong and sure, one filled with affection despite the fact that Tess refuses to follow down her mother’s footsteps and become “the other woman” in any relationship. Additionally, I enjoyed Tess’s blooming friendships with the sisters she waitressed with and the competitive biomedical students she found herself competing with. What I found interesting was the fact that both these groups of friends were part of very different friend circles, but Daniels still allows Tess to befriend them both, sharing different experiences with each. Just the portrayal of friendships in college is rare to find in New Adult novels, but the different types of friendships, the multiple bonds and their respective strengths is even harder to find, which is why I applaud Daniels for their inclusion. 

Ultimately, One & Only offers originality into the field of New Adult. Tess takes advantage of her relationships with her professors to find working internships, the economic struggles she faces are outlined but never judged, there is absolutely zero slut-shaming, and the inner growth Tess undergoes is universally relatable. Moreover, the icing on the cake is the fact that her romance with Dylan is both sweet and steamy. Dylan respects Tess’s boundaries, encourages her ambitions, and fosters her intelligence. In every sense of the term, they are a couple formed and bonded on equal footing, which is such a relief to see. I sincerely hope this is a signal that alpha males are fading into the background of long-forgotten nightmares. If New Adult is headed in this direction, I can only wait and watch anxiously for more. 

Title: Through the Smoke

Author: Brenda Novak

Rating: 4 Stars

Brenda Novak’s Through the Smoke is the first historical romance novel I’ve read in awhile now. After a string of misses, I have refused to touch this genre with a ten-foot long pole, but this book wormed its way onto my radar and stubbornly kept re-appearing. Eventually, I couldn’t resist. After all, with dozens of readers labeling this just as gothic as Jane Eyre and just as romantic as Pride & Prejudice, how could I resist? 

Needless to say, Through the Smoke delivered – enormously so. For one, the romance is tortuous and rewarding, a slow build-up of admiration, understanding, and desire. Although Truman and Rachel are from different worlds – one wealthy, the other poor – they manage to make their romance work through the hurdles they face. Truman is an Earl, suspected of murdering his cheating wife in the fire that consumed her, but In reality, he remembers nothing. Thus, when the bookseller’s daughter, Rachel, claims to have information about the murder, Truman seizes the opportunity to interrogate her. Truman’s entrance into her life forces Rachel into a world of worker politics, similar to that in North & South, and introduces her to a love she could have never imagined. 

Although Through the Smoke does contain a handful of historical romance tropes, consummating in a villain who is more black-and-white than gray, the setting of this story is vividly imagined and the mystery all the more so intriguing. Both Rachel and Truman are complicated characters, carrying messy pasts and even more doubtful futures, but their forbidden romance settles itself into your heart artfully. What I appreciated most about this novel was the fact that Rachel’s existence did not revolve around Truman and, instead, she proves herself a strong and capable protagonist, fiercely independent and determined for an equal relationship. Granted, Through the Smoke isn’t all that thought-provoking, but it is the perfect guilty-pleasure read to curl up with for a few hours – no harm in that.