M.J. Rose’s new novel, The Witch of Painted Sorrows, feels more like a very long draft of a novel rather than a fleshed-and-thought out story.
Along those lines, Sorrows does not pick up until the last 100 pages or so. Up to that point, it’s a horrible slog, not just a slog like the last 100 pages.
Furthermore, the plot elements introduced at the beginning to propel the main character to Paris, where the book takes place, feels haphazard at best and the very first draft at worst. Her husband is described as “dangerous.” He is a killer! Except he’s not. The main character’s treatment of her husband, meant to be a plot point, appears more like she’s actually crazy because of the level of hysterical thoughts and feelings attributed to him.
“But I would not live with a brute who had my father’s blood on his hands.”
Also, there’s a sleep rape scene perpetrated by the female main character against her male lover, which is portrayed as totally OK. Switch the genders and it would not be OK.
Sleep rape is not OK.
All in all, not worth reading.
This book (an advanced uncorrected proof) was received, free of charge, from the Goodreads First Reads program.
The UnDelightened is an enjoyable romp marred by clichés and lazy settings.
I like the UnDelightened. It’s quick enough as a read, it’s enjoyable, it’s fun.
It has major, but not insurmountable issues. The issues don’t make it a worthless read. Rather, I can only hope the author, Mr. Deyo, strives for something better during the next iteration of the series.
Despite all the praise “Half a King” has been receiving, I found it to be sorely wanting.
My tendency is to blame it on being a young adult novel, something I only realized after I finished the book. That’s not fair to the genre.
“Half a King” is really half a novel.
It’s a mediocre start to what promises to be a series of some king, although what that will entail is unknown.
When it comes to the fantasy part of “Half a King”, there’s almost nothing at all. There’s writing of Elfen structures and some religious talk of the time between now and then, when the gods were shattered. There’re also some plotlines of the coming of a monotheistic movement.
With a name like H. P. Mallroy, with both her first and middle names obfuscated, one would think she would at least try to live up to the paranormal credentials she is, admittedly, inadvertently throwing out to the world.
Alas, alas, alas, she does not. Rather, she offers up a repetitive, lackluster and ultimately boring romance that isn’t really a romance, but more a story of never-quenched lust dressed up as romance.