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From the blurb: The Blood Moon rises. The Blood Veil falls. The Tournament begins. Every generation, at the coming of the Blood Moon, seven families in the remote city of Ilvernath each name a champion to compete in a tournament to the death. The prize? Exclusive control over a secret wellspring of high magick, the most powerful resource in the world--one thought long depleted. This year, thanks to a salacious tell-all book, the seven champions are thrust into worldwide spotlight, granting each of them new information, new means to win, and most importantly: a choice - accept their fate or rewrite their story. But this is a story that must be penned in blood.  My thoughts: I absolutely adored this addictive book! The world-building and storytelling are fantastic... One of those books that totally absorbs and grips you to make sure you put everything aside and focus on it from the beginning to the end. First of all, don't be disappointed if you find that...'No one here is a hero...', but, by extension, no one is a villain. Although the book is essentially about the power of stories, legends and patterns, it is also about how we make choices, good and bad, cruel and well-intentioned and live with their consequences. All of the protagonists go through self-discovery and development in deliciously unpredictable ways. The protagonists are seven teenagers thrown into a death tournament by their families bound by a powerful ancient curse. Every twenty years seven families must choose a champion to fight in the tournament until only one is left to bring the glory to their family and power to weild rare high magick which has almost disappeared from this world. The tournament used to be Ilvernath's best-kept shameful secret until a book called A Tradition of Tragedy (allegedly written by someone from one of the seven families) came out and exposed the history of this merciless practice. There are seven champions (Grieve, Payne, Macaslan, Thorburn, Blaire, Lowe, Darrow) and four main points of view: -Gavin Grieve, from the least respected, least powerful family- watch out for this one as he is desperate to fight for his dignity; -Isobel Macaslan- another champion from an underdog family who collects their raw magick in less than savoury ways- her father calls her a princess, but she herself knows she is a survivor... once she really commits to participating in this brutal ordeal; -Briony Thorburn (Isobel's ex-BFF and a self-proclaimed hero)- she is fast and strong, both physically and mentally, and no wonder- all her life she has been preparing for this tournament, but does she have enough self-awareness to see the impact of her actions? -and last but not least- The Villain- Alistair Lowe- his family has won the most tournaments and all his life he's been told he doesn't have to be afraid of monsters because he is one of them. His family has their despicable secret to ensure a Lowe is more often than not the last one standing. I loved the way the perspectives changed as the story raced forward. The length of the chapters was perfect and, to be honest, I didn't have a favourite, although you might choose who out of all of these morally gray, flawed characters you want to root for. It is difficult to avoid the comparison with the Hunger Games- well, impossible really, since it was marketed as Hunger Games with blood, gore, and magic. But once you start reading the book, you quickly notice the differences- the tone is different (HG is all about social justice, AOUV is about the power of stories), there are fewer characters and they have been taught and trained all their life to devise strategies, make and cast curses and spells in order to survive and claim the victory fro their family- they are not tragically random tributes. There are alliances, but no romance (sorry, not really- at least not in book 1). Like many other readers I went into the book thinking it's a standalone and realised towards the 80% mark, it can't be- there's still too much of a story to explore. Can't wait to find out who survives this wild, wild ride! Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the review copy provided in exchange for an honest opinion. 
Friends to the End
-- EXCERPT: “We were going to look for the ghost house.” Dom adjusted the faded NY Yankees baseball cap he wore. “But Morgan has to be home by five.” “We’ll never make it there and back in time, and we never leave a man behind,” Josh added, dropping a backpack on the grass next to him. It landed with a clunk. “Ghost house?” I repeated, picturing a boarded-up, decrepit building built during the Civil War or something. “Haven’t you heard the stories?” Josh asked, eyes wide in amazement. I shook my head. Dom walked over to our open garage, grabbed my skateboard out of one of the boxes, and said, “It’s known as the disappearing house.” My bewildered gaze slithered from Dom to Josh, finally coming to a stop on Morgan as I tried to decide if they were crazy. “If the house is invisible, how do you expect to find it?” I asked. Morgan sat on the stoop next to me. “It’s not always invisible. My brothers saw it once. They said it’s a big house with a long porch. It vanished before they could set foot on the first step, and I’m glad, too.” “Why? What would have happened if they were on the steps?” I asked. Not because I believed an old ghost story had any truth to it, but I was curious to know what she’d say. Morgan had to pick her jaw up from the walkway before she could answer, and when she did her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. “If they had been on the porch or worse—” she swallowed loudly “—inside, they would have disappeared with it.” “That’s a myth,” Dom said as he rode the skateboard down the driveway. “It is not!” Morgan shot back. “Come on, how is a solid person going to disappear?” Dom asked from the sidewalk. “The same way the house does! Duh!” Morgan shook her head as if Dom was the loony one. “Isn’t the whole thing…um…you know…a myth?” I asked. There were no such things as ghosts, and buildings didn’t just go poof and disappear into thin air. “I mean, you don’t really believe in—” “The house is real, dude,” Josh said. “And we’re going inside of it.” Dom did an Ollie, lifting all wheels of the skateboard off the ground. “No, we’re not!” Morgan shook her head as if that reinforced what she’d said. A dark auburn curl snuck out from under her baseball cap. “We are,” Josh confirmed. I was with Dom and Josh. Not the part about believing in disappearing houses, but if one happened to exist and I managed to find it, I’d want to see inside of it, too.
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The Grove
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: The hair on my arms rose. My heart thumped hard, the blood pulsing through my chest into my throat. Looking left and right, my muscles tensed to run or fight. “Who’s there? What do you want?” I said at the same low whisper, my voice shaking. A shimmering blur disappeared behind a tree—a featureless something, flashing in indistinguishable color as quickly as a silent whip. “Laura,” someone said again, gentle and feather-light, drifting between the largest trees in front of me. I held my breath. “Laura.” My name resonated through the humid night air, echoing through the sugar maples before it thinned and died. It was a male voice, full- bodied, but lacking malevolence and hostility. Strangely, it put me at ease. There must be a boy somewhere out here in the woods. I was sure of it. The voice sounded young, maybe my age of seventeen. Or maybe it was a ghost. My Uncle Dean had told me the locals believed these woods were haunted. But ghosts couldn’t kill. At least that’s what I believed. “Who are you?” I asked, relaxing my stiff muscles just enough to take a step forward. My shoulders dropped as I exhaled a pent-up breath. Broadening my stance, I leaned forward, raising the branch, and squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to hear it again. “Laura,” it repeated. The word lingered through the dead of night, ringing softly in my ears. I opened my eyes. “How do you know my name?” I asked, moving toward the direction of the voice. As a cool breeze rustled my pajama shorts, I wrapped one arm around myself. A bird chirp rode the wind, followed by several more, weaving into a rhythm of tweets and trills. I looked up. Within the tousle of leaves and sway of thin limbs, perched a gathering of birds, flexing their wings for flight. I took a step backwards, my eyes fixed on the canopy of leaves. The bird calls increased, one squawk overlapping the other until their unique melody collapsed, twisting into an eerie song and wing beats. “A–are you still there?” I breathed, eyeing the woods ahead of me and taking another step back. A smear of color flashed to my left, and a cloud of leaves rose from the forest floor. “Don’t go,” I said, breaking from a whisper. The woods resonated with angry bird speak, their unnatural song thumping in my ears. “I want to see you,” I shouted above the rising mad twitter. A shadow skated across the ground at my feet. Wings flapped overhead, and a bird beak met my scalp with a hard peck. 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by:  From New York Times bestselling author Brigid Kemmerer comes a brand-new blockbuster fantasy series about a kingdom divided by corruption—and the girl who will risk everything to bring the system crashing down. The land of Kandala is recovering from a devastating plague, with a cure so rare that only the wealthy can afford it. Tessa is one of the many in the lower class, whose parents were killed for distributing the cure on the black market. She continues their legacy by stealing supplies to give to those in need, along with help from her partner, the suave and mysterious Weston Lark. As rumors spread that the cure no longer works, Tessa hatches a dangerous plan to infiltrate the castle and break down the class barriers for good. Set in a fantasy world startlingly similar to our own, Brigid Kemmerer's new series illuminates the divide between those with power and those without. . . and what happens when someone is brave enough to flip the system.  My thoughts: Absolutely loved it! Fans of Bridget Kemmerer are going to be delighted with this new series. A spellbinding tale of love, trust, and courage, Defy the Night is set in a fictional Kingdom of Kandala, where people are dying of mysterious fevers. The only real cure, Moonflower, grows in only two sectors of the vast country ruled by young King Harristan and his brother, King's Justice Corrick. Unfortunately, the poor do not always have the means to buy the cure, while all the rich care about is a steady, reliable supply. Nobody wants to die and nobody wants to see someone they love suffer. Tessa Cade's father was an apothecary who tried to distribute the elixir made of Moonflower petals to as many people as he could. When Tessa's parents were kiled by the patrol, Tessa found courage to continue rtheir work by stealing supplies, preparing potions and giving them away to the most needy. She is added by her faithful partner Wes, Weston Lark, someone she trusts with her life, even though she's never seen his face without a mask. Both of them know it's a drop in the ocean, as people are becoming more and more desperate and ready to revolt...  The story is told from two equally compelling points of view: Tessa's and Corrick's. Based on the blurb I expected Tessa to be more of an adventurous risk-seeker, while she turned out to be somebody extremely compassionate and people-oriented, kind and...soft. Corrick appeared to be a more complex character- he's torn between what he sees as his brotherly duty and his desire to lead his life according to his principles, a normal human desire to trust/be trusted and the need to be seen as a strong ruler capable of maintaining order. Although King Harristan remains a bit of a mystery in this book, it is clear he's a multi-dimensional character. The main intrigue in the book is the disease itself and our protagonists trying to find the best way to defeat this cruel and relentless enemy, while also helping to keep the country stable. A large portion of the book is set in the Royal Palace, so expect a fair share of political intrigues. One of the topics raised in the book is that it isn't easy to lead a safe and prosperous country, let alone a country ravaged by a health crisis. Bridget Kemmerer's writing style is as entertaining and captivating as always. The pace is fast, although the book isn't all about action- there's the emotional side: affection, friendship, loyalty, grief, and worry. The twists kept me on my toes and there's clearly plenty of them coming in the next book, which I'm already looking forward to! Thank you to NetGalley and the publisher for the review copy provided in exchange for an honest opinion. Defy the Night is out on September 14th, 2021. Publisher: Bloomsbury YA  Brigid Kemmerer is the New York Times bestselling author of the Cursebreaker series, Call It What You Want, More Than We Can Tell, Letters to the Lost, and the Elementals series. She was born in Omaha, Nebraska, though her parents quickly moved her all over the United States, from the desert in Albuquerque, New Mexico, to the lakeside in Cleveland, Ohio, and several stops in between, eventually settling near Annapolis, Maryland.
www.brigidkemmerer.com / Twitter and Instagram: @BrigidKemmerer
Ultraxenopia
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: When I open my eyes, the exam room is gone. I turn around in my seat. The pain that consumed me before has diminished, but it’s replaced by fear, confusion, and disbelief, which all attack me at once, overpowering the part of my brain that might actually be able to comprehend what’s happening. Is this a dream? A hallucination? My legs quake as I push to my feet, my fingers clutching at the chair to hold me to the one real thing in this delusion. The air is thick with dust, but through the impairing fog, I recognize my surroundings. I glimpse the familiar sight of the Heart in the details crumbling around me. But there are no people crowding the streets. No lights. No sign of life at all. There’s only me, standing here all alone, as the world I once knew succumbs to destruction. Panic boils beneath my skin, squeezing my lungs in a vise grip. My eyes close on instinct, but some unseen power wrenches them open again, forcing me to watch every second of this nightmare. To see what I can only assume must be the end of the world. In the blink of an eye, the destruction explodes in a torrent of flame, devouring everything. A blinding flash burns across my vision, but when it clears, the desolate landscape is nowhere to be seen. Did I just imagine that? Sweat suctions the thin fabric of my clothes to my body, and I wince away from the horrible screaming that it takes me a moment to realize is coming from me. I clamp my mouth shut to silence my building distress and tighten my grasp on the chair. Wisps of darkness dance in front of my eyes, and as they fade, I’m both relieved and terrified to find myself back in the exam room. My chest constricts as I glance around at the other Examinees, every last one wearing the same wide-eyed expression. Despite the silence, I know what they’re thinking. Those words from the news broadcast earlier vibrate through my head like the pitchy whine of a bad frequency. Enemy of the State, their faces all say to me.
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Charm Wars
-- EXCERPT: “This place is a real treasure trove,” Rill said as he and Jedd maneuvered the sarcophagus cover onto the ground. “If a charm seeker did open this tomb, why did she take the charm from that one Old Mage but not his staff? And why did she leave all the other charms and staffs behind? I wonder—” “How fortunate for me she did,” a voice said behind them. “And how unfortunate for you.” Rill and Jedd whirled around. Just inside the entrance stood a skinny, middle-aged man of medium height. His gray tunic and tan pants were dirty and patched and his boots old and scuffed. Oily, unkempt hair framed his pockmarked face. In his right hand, he held a staff. The light from Rill’s and Jedd’s torches danced shadows across his face, making his malevolent grin appear even more evil. A blacksmith’s vise clamped Rill’s chest making it hard for him to breathe. A rohan! A backwatcher or protector—either a mage or a bladeswoman or bladesman—who had been expelled by a noblesse matriarch for breaking her oath to serve and protect the matriarch’s family. An outcast from society no other noblesse First or Lesser Family would touch. A woman or man who was lower even than the criminals, dagger women, and prostitutes living in Caldon’s most dangerous neighborhood, The Slums. Rill’s gaze fastened on the rohan’s left hand that clutched something beneath his grimy tunic. A charm. “Actus,” the rohan mage said, his sinister smile showing he’d deliberately spoken the word loud enough for Rill and Jedd to hear. Rill eyed the staff, his stomach paining him. The rohan had activated his charm. All he had to do now was point the staff at a target and cast a spell. Rill’s gaze slid to Jedd, who appeared as rigid as a marble statue. With exaggerated slowness, the rohan aimed the staff at the gap between Rill and Jedd, then deliberately moved it from one to the other. His lips drew up into a cruel smile, making Rill feel like a mouse being toyed with by a cat. Rill choked on a lump of regret. Why didn’t I listen to Jedd and leave the coffins alone? We could of been partway home by now. I could of been a mage. But now I never will be. Slowly and deliberately, the rohan inhaled a mouthful of air and said, “Luco!” Rill’s frightened breath blended with Jedd’s when the crystal burst into life, and white mage light flooded the tomb. The rohan laughed as if he’d just watched a first-rate comedy routine as he stepped several paces forward. “Scared of a little light, boys?” Rill’s gaze jumped to Jedd. His cousin was glowering at the man, his hands balled into fists. The rohan smirked at Jedd. Slowly, keeping his eyes on the rohan, Rill moved his hand toward his sword’s brown leather grip. The rohan must have had invisible eyes in the side of his head. With a chuckle, he casually pointed the staff at Rill. “Foolish boy. I can kill you before your sword’s half out of its scabbard.” Rill let his hand drop to his side. “Tsk-tsk,” the rohan said, drawing closer. “Naughty boys charm seeking. That’s a death offense. Unless you’re mages, of course. Are you mages, naughty boys?” “You know we ain’t,” Rill said through clenched teeth. The rohan stepped forward a few more paces until only a staff’s length separated them. “When I came across your well-fed and groomed horses a while ago, I thought that maybe their owners came from good families. Families with money. So I went looking for you. My goodness, you weren’t hard to find. Not with all that racket you made in here with the cougar. Boys with horses and swords. And purses hanging from their belts.” His gaze riveted itself to Rill. “And with such interesting things inside.” Rill’s heart froze into a lump of ice as he forced himself to return the rohan’s stare. He saw me take the charm. The rohan flashed them both an evil smile. “So I said to myself, ‘Self, I bet those naughty little boys are carrying some nice shiny gildas in their purses. Or maybe even a goldie.’ You got any?” “Why don’t you come closer and find out?” Rill said. He’d tried to sound cocky, but his voice broke halfway through the question. The rohan grinned, obviously enjoying himself. He pointed the staff at Rill. “Naughty boy. I hope you don’t melt.” Terror ripped through Rill like a barbed arrowhead. He had only moments to live. 
GIVEAWAY! Hosted by: #Book Blitz #Of the Lilin (The Sage Chronicles, #1) by Paulette Hampton #YA @XpressoBook Tours1/9/2021
Of the Lilin
-- TEASERS: Sage describing her depression: I didn’t deserve happiness. Those joys shouldn’t exist without my family’s and friend’s presence. I should have to endure more suffering for what I had done. I no longer pressed my memory to find out what I was guilty of. It was a blur, a blip in my mind, but it was there. I felt it, and I needed to suffer for it. Sage, when her dark side appears, describing her feeding: From his wanting mouth, I began to inhale his essence, his spirit. It was exhilarating and decadent. I was filled with what was flowing and still, energetic and peaceful, awe-inspiring and banal. The dichotomies fit like two puzzle pieces. There was not one without the other. This was the only moment that existed. It was completeness.
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Don’t Forget To Breathe
-- EXCERPT: The black corners of my room softened into a silvery gray. I turned my head to check the alarm clock, 4:45. I begged the heavens, “Please, let me sleep,” and smothered my head underneath my downy pillow. A nanosecond after slamming my eyelids closed, I was immediately transported to a year ago…” My walk down the hallway to my parents’ bedroom became sluggish. She’d been complaining of not feeling well and had stayed home from work today. Was she sick and needed to rest and forgot about the boiling water? The door was shut. I knuckled the frame softly. “Mom?” My hand twisted the knob and inched it open. I gagged on the smell. An awkward, half-naked body draped the mattress—porcelain skin sliced apart, and silky blonde hair fanned the floor. Dripping red blood—gobs of blood. Eyes filled with terror watched me. Dead eyes. My jaw moved. Mommm—but no sound. I shuffled a foot forward and doubled over, spewing lunch. That was when I noticed a bloody dagger next to her fingers. Forged in a peculiar camber design like something I’d see in a museum. Arms swallowed me from behind, “I’m not going to kill you. Not yet.” Then everything faded to black. I woke with a start and gasped. My heart ached. Struggling upright I crisscrossed my arms over my chest and gripped my shoulders. Tears sprinkled my face—sorry for my loss, sorry for myself.
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Photos from Simon_sees, Dmitry Karyshev
