I want a ukulele~

I asked my Dad for a ukulele once. He gave me a 3/4 sized guitar. I still want a ukele- or a bass- or something with four strings, but that's for later. Now I can play on guitar! (A full-sized one, at that, not the little midget thing). Apparently, if you placed a capo (for those non-musicians, a little clamp thing) on the fifth fret, you'd be in the same key as ukele. But I don't have a capo.

I don't think I've talked about music. Let's talk about one of mine and Allie's biggest passions, then.

I got my first instrument eight years ago- a tinny keyboard that still lovingly has it's place of honour in the middle of my bedroom. I've never had one lesson on the thing- I'm from the realms of self-taught guitarists and pianists, God save us all, but my instrument of choice is oboe.

I honestly don't blame you if you've never even heard of it- (for those you don't know, they look like this - http://www.dsokids.com/public/Instruments/photo160oboe.jpg ) I hadn't, until my ten year old self decided to choose possibly one of the hardest insturments in the classical orchestra to play, because I'm clever like that. It's been five years now, and I still spend a ridiculous amount of time each day wrestling notes from that distastrous stick of wood with holes in it.

Allie, for her part, sings like a frickin' angel. You should hear her "Halleluja". Unfortunately, due to recent-ish loss of voice, her singing capacity has been lowered, but I pray to God each day it'll return soon to full brilliance.

You've probably noticed, from our "Music Mondays", that Allie is far more knowledgable about modern music than I, something I constantly am in awe of, as well as her excellent taste in it. One the other hand, I, much more selfishly, enjoy playing it rather than listening to it. Which you may have picked up from the fact I have posted some of my embarrasingly amateur compositions on this blog.

So. Yeah. That was just me talking about myself. There was no point to this blog post. Oh, God. I'm running out of reasonable things to say.

Tora.

(NB: Mucho thanks to my awesome partner Annon- the other half of the slightly-insane duo the Knitted Jellyfish :) )

The silence is deafening around here.

Yes, I know, I know. Our habitual abandoing of you is disloyal and unbeleiveable. But we have excuses, I swear! Like a kid who hasn't done their homework for the second day in a row, the grovelling is soon to follow...

Oh, wait, you mean you didn't know I was gone?!

Oh yeah, those scheduled posts. Phew. Nothing to worry about then.

Hold on. You say that the mysterious absence of regular rants let you know something was up?
Dayum. We need better cover!

Yes, you did get a ton of book-related post. Yes, you are probably bored to tears by now.

Readers, we apologise.

Let us hope (and [perhaps pray, if the worst comes to the worst) that you can forgive us and this very apologetic and very of-course-this-isn't-scheduled post will give you some kind of beleive that we're not dead, hanging from a noose somewhere, caught up ina revolution or doing anything else quite so unsavoury.

(You can't totally tell I've been learning off my history book by heart....)

Anyway, this is just a quick message to say wer'e still here adn we'll be back online really soon. For now, explore the archives to your hearts content, or comment and see if you can get our elusive attention...

Allie

Fallen, by Lauren Kate - Excerpt

What a glorious waste of time tracking down these excerpts is. It's not like I have art homework I shoul;d be doing, or anything....

As they came around the corner of the cinder-block classrooms, Arriane skidded to a halt. “Effect cool,” she said.

Luce nodded, already looking around the grounds. “Cool,” she repeated.

All the other students seemed to be clustered around the kudzu-strangled trees outside the building. No one looked exactly happy to be hanging out, but no one looked ready to go inside yet, either.

There hadn’t been much of a dress code at Dover, so Luce wasn’t used to the uniformity it gave a student body. Then again, even though every kid here was wearing the same black jeans and black sweater, there were still substantial differences in how they pulled it off.

A group of tattooed girls standing in a crossed-armed circle wore bangle bracelets up to their elbows. The black bandanas in their hair reminded Luce of a film she’d once seen about motorcycle-gang girls. She’d rented it because she’d thought: What could be cooler than an all-girls motorcycle gang? Now Luce’s eyes locked with those of one of the girls across the lawn. The sideways squint of the girl’s darkly lined cat-eyes made Luce quickly shift the direction of her gaze.

She noticed that a guy and a girl holding hands had sewn sequins in the shape of skulls and crossbones on the backs of their black sweaters. Every few seconds, one of them would pull the other in for a kiss on the temple, on the earlobe, on the eye. They looked a little rough, but it was obvious how much in love they were. Every time she saw their tongue rings flashing, Luce felt a lonely pinch inside her chest.

Behind the lovers, a cluster of blond boys stood pressed against the wall. Each of them wore a white oxford shirt under his sweater, the collar starched straight up. Their tailored black pants hit the bridges of their polished dress shoes perfectly. Of all the students on the quad, these boys seemed to Luce to be the closest thing to Doverites. But a closer look quickly set them apart from boys she used to know. Boys like Trevor.

Just standing in a group, these guys radiated a specific kind of toughness. It was right there in the look in their eyes. It was hard to explain, but it suddenly struck Luce that just like her, everyone at this school had a past. Everyone here probably had secrets they wouldn’t want to share. But she couldn’t figure out whether this realization made her feel more or less isolated.

Arriane noticed Luce’s eyes running over the rest of the kids.

“We all do what we can to make it through the day,” she said, shrugging. “But in case you hadn’t noticed the low-hanging vultures, this place pretty much reeks of death.” She took a seat on a bench under a weeping willow and patted the spot next to her for Luce.
Luce wiped away a mound of wet, decaying leaves, but just before she sat down, she noticed another dress code violation.

A very attractive dress code violation.

No, attractive didn’t even come close to covering it.

He wore a bright red scarf around his neck. It wasn’t cold outside, but he had on a black leather motorcycle jacket over his black sweater, too. Maybe it was because his was the only spot of color on the quad, but he was all that Luce could look at. In fact, everything else so paled in comparison that, for one long moment, Luce completely forgot where she was.

She took in his deep golden hair and the matching tan. Her eyes ran over his high cheekbones, the dark sunglasses that covered his eyes, and the fullness of his lips. In all the movies Luce had seen, and in all the books she’d read, the love interest was empirically attractive—except for that one little flaw. The chipped tooth, the charming cowlick, the beauty mark on his left cheek. She knew why—if the hero was too unblemished, he’d risk becoming unapproachable. But approachable or not, Luce had always had a weakness for the sublimely gorgeous.

And sublimely gorgeous this guy was . . . but the crazy thing was, it wasn’t the way he looked that kept Luce’s rapt attention. She started to feel that there was something else, something bigger that, after her first glance, almost prevented her from really seeing him at all.

He leaned up against the building with his arms crossed lightly over his chest. And for a split second, Luce saw a flash of herself folded into those arms. She shook her head, but the vision stayed so clear that she almost took off toward him.

No. That was crazy. Right? Even at a school full of crazies, Luce was well aware that this instinct was insane. She didn’t even know him.

He was talking to a shorter, black kid with dreads and a toothy smile. Both of them were laughing hard and genuinely—in a way that made Luce strangely jealous. She tried to think back and remember how long had it been since she’d laughed, really laughed, like that.

“That’s Daniel,” Arriane said, leaning in and reading her mind. “I can tell he’s attracted somebody’s attention.”

“Understatement,” Luce agreed, embarrassed when she realized how obviously awestruck she must have looked to Arriane.

“Yeah, well, if you like that sort of thing.”

“What’s not to like?” Luce said, unable to stop the words from tumbling out. “He’s incredible. What’s his story?”

Arriane cleared her throat. “No one really knows,” she said. “He’s kind of a mystery man. My guess is he’s just your typical reform school asshole.”

“I’m no stranger to assholes,” Luce said, though as soon as the words came out, she wished she could take them back. After what had happened to Trevor—whatever had happened—she was the last person who should be making character judgments. But more than that, the rare time she made even the smallest reference to that night, Luce could feel the presence of the shadows, almost like she was right back at the lake.

Feeling spooked, she glanced back at Daniel. He was the opposite of all the shadows. She watched as Daniel took his glasses off and slid them inside his jacket. He turned to look at her.

His gaze caught hers, and Luce watched as his eyes widened and then quickly narrowed in what looked like surprise. But no—it was more than that. When Daniel’s eyes held hers, her breath caught in her throat. She recognized him from somewhere.

But she would have remembered meeting someone like him. She would have remembered feeling as absolutely shaken up as she did right now.

She realized they were still locking eyes when Daniel flashed her a smile. A jet of warmth shot through her and she had to grip the bench for support. She felt her lips pull up in a smile back at him, but then he raised his hand in the air.

And flipped her off.

Luce gasped and dropped her eyes.

“What?” Arriane asked, oblivious to what had just gone down. “Never mind,” she said. “We don’t have time. I sense the bell.”

The bell rang as if on cue, and the whole student body started the slow shuffle into the building. Arriane was tugging on Luce’s hand and spouting off directions about how to find her locker, where to meet her next and when. But Luce was still reeling from being flipped the bird by such a perfect stranger. Her momentary delirium over Daniel had vanished, and now the only thing she wanted to know was: What was that guy’s problem?

Just before she ducked into her first class, she dared to glance back at Daniel. His face was blank, but there was no mistaking it—he was watching her go.

Allie

Book Review 16 - Fallen, by Lauren Kate

I have a minor EEEKS moment
every time I look at this cover...

If you've read my review for Hush, Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick, you'll know that I read this at the same time, and their similiarites were hard to ignore, but I'll do my best to do Fallen justice without comparing (too much). It isn't a book I would have immediately picked up of my own volition. I should let you know that I prefer kick-ass action to undiluted romance, and this book seemed to have a whole lot of the latter and not enough of the former. But, I got started with it anyway, and found that the hype wasn't all hot air. I perserved, and my patience was definitely rewarded. It's a story about angels, about light and dark, good and evil, and most of all, about love - love that can't be changed, only saved, or destroyed. It's compelling, and brilliantly-written.


There’s something achingly familiar about Daniel Grigori. Mysterious and aloof, he captures Luce Price’s attention from the moment she sees him on her first day at the Sword & Cross boarding school in sultry Savannah, Georgia. He’s the one bright spot in a place where cell phones are forbidden, the other students are all screw-ups, and security cameras watch every move. Even though Daniel wants nothing to do with Luce–and goes out of his way to make that very clear–she can’t let it go. Drawn to him like a moth to a flame, she has to find out what Daniel is so desperate to keep secret . . . even if it kills her.


It is the characters, and more importantly, the characters' past, that make this book work. This character and setting build-up is vital to the storyline. They characters are fascinating, and most of them leap off the page with such intensity I was completely envious of Lauren Kate being able to keep them in her head (Not in a schizophrenic way. In that writer-y way where when you write the protaganists - and antagonists - are dictating what happens right in your ear. Except when revising, where they have to be rudely shoved aside so the practical editor side of your mind can wade through all the impassioned rubbish and make some kind of sensible plot). Arriane - bad-ass and insane (my favourite!). Cam - lecherous, and slightly evil. Gabbe - sickly-sweet and underestimated. Luce herself - confused, lonely, but smart, and growing throughout the book.

And then there's Daniel. Oh, Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. Perfect, awe-inspiring, drool-worthy.

And also, completely implausible.

I wanted him to be the person he should have been to end up in a place like that, like the only centre secure enough to hold Luce without her killing anybody. And for a long time, he seemed to be that, with just a hint of something else underneath - his true self; kind, sweet, sacrificial, devoted. And I didn't believe it. I wanted him to be more tortured. I wanted him to be thinking; if I get anywhere near this girl I'm going to send su both up in flames at every waking moment. But when he did think like that, it was so half-hearted it was practically non-existent. And I understand that that's part of the nature of his love for Luce, but I just wished he was strong enough to hold out a little longer. (So maybe I like torturing my characters. A little. Or a lot. So what?) However. I won't drag out that particular annoyance too much, because frankly there is too much good about this book to ignore.

We need to be very involved with Luce to believe her, and to keep up the chain of events that follow, and as we learn her history - or what she knows of her history, to be more specific - the pieces of the puzzle come together, like they have been dotted carefully throughout the chapters without us noticing. That was my favourite part about Lauren Kate's writing - she doesn't underestimate her readers' intelligence, and you feel respected. I certainly enjoyed the fact that the mixture of obvious and not-so-obvious hints allows us to guess, predict, and gasp at the scenes that we see unfolding before our very eyes. Her writing is so amazing it's scary. Even if I didn't like the way the plot had turned, or the situation she had put her characters in, I couldn't deny the way she was wrote was not only realistic, but it was flawless, and flowing, too.

Okay, so it's not exactly the kind of book you're going to read over and over again, it is the kind of story you're either going to absolutely love or absolutely hate, and the plot isn't necessarily unique - after all, it kind of started the angel-fanatic trend that cursed our shelves not so long ago - but taking the risk was definitely worth it for me.

I sought out the sequel, only to find out it wouldn't be released for months, and had to make to do with imagining everything that would happen in the second book. As you've probably guessed I've read Torment by now, and Passion, but my opinions on those will have to wait - this review is for people who haven't read it yet, or are just about to, or are considering buying/loaning/grabbing it from the nearest bookshop, shoving it under their jacket and running away as quickly as possible (not that I condone stealing in any way, shape or form...not at all. Except in books. Or videogames. Or movies. Or if you're a totally awesome thief from the streets who helps Sherlock Holmes. But I digress.)

Anyway. Onto my short round-up...

Re readability: 3.5/5
Plot: 4/5
Characters: 4/5
Writing: 5/5
Overall: 4/5
In five words: angelic! Well-written, unputdownable, dark, seductive.

Allie

Hush Hush by Becca Fitzpatrick - Excerpt

OK, y'all have probably already seen this by now, but I like excerpts, so bear with me!

PROLOGUE

LOIRE VALLEY, FRANCE NOVEMBER 1565

CHAUNCEY WAS WITH A FARMER’S DAUGHTER ON the grassy banks of the Loire River when the storm rolled in, and having let his gelding wander in the meadow, was left to his own two feet to carry him back to the chÂteau. He tore a silver buckle off his shoe, placed it in the girl’s palm, and watched her scurry away, mud slinging on her skirts. Then he tugged on his boots and started for home.

Rain sheeted down on the darkening countryside surrounding the ChÂteau de Langeais. Chauncey stepped easily over the sunken graves and humus of the cemetery; even in the thickest fog he could find his way home from here and not fear getting lost. There was no fog tonight, but the darkness and onslaught of rain were deceiving enough.

There was movement along the fringe of Chauncey’s vision, and he snapped his head to the left. At first glance what appeared to be a large angel topping a nearby monument rose to full height. Neither stone nor marble, the boy had arms and legs. His torso was naked, his feet were bare, and peasant trousers hung low on his waist. He hopped down from the monument, the ends of his black hair dripping rain. It slid down his face, which was dark as a Spaniard’s.

Chauncey’s hand crept to the hilt of his sword. “Who goes there?”

The boy’s mouth hinted at a smile.

“Do not play games with the Duc de Langeais,” Chauncey warned. “I asked for your name. Give it.”

“Duc?” The boy leaned against a twisted willow tree. “Or bastard?”

Chauncey unsheathed his sword. “Take it back! My father was the Duc de Langeais. I’m the Duc de Langeais now,” he added clumsily, and cursed himself for it.

The boy gave a lazy shake of his head. “Your father wasn’t the old duc.”

Chauncey seethed at the outrageous insult. “And your father?” he demanded, extending the sword. He didn’t yet know all his vassals, but he was learning. He would brand the family name of this boy to memory. “I’ll ask once more,” he said in a low voice, wiping a hand down his face to clear away the rain. “Who are you?”

The boy walked up and pushed the blade aside. He suddenly looked older than Chauncey had presumed, maybe even a year or two older than Chauncey. “One of the Devil’s brood,” he answered.

Chauncey felt a clench of fear in his stomach. “You’re a raving lunatic,” he said through his teeth. “Get out of my way.”

The ground beneath Chauncey tilted. Bursts of gold and red popped behind his eyes. Hunched with his fingernails grinding into his thighs, he looked up at the boy, blinking and gasping, trying to make sense of what was happening. His mind reeled like it was no longer his to command.

The boy crouched to level their eyes. “Listen carefully. I need something from you. I won’t leave until I have it. Do you understand?”

Gritting his teeth, Chauncey shook his head to express his disbelief—his defiance. He tried to spit at the boy, but it trickled down his chin, his tongue refusing to obey him.

The boy clasped his hands around Chauncey’s; their heat scorched him and he cried out.

“I need your oath of fealty,” the boy said. “Bend on one knee and swear it.”

Chauncey commanded his throat to laugh harshly, but his throat constricted and he choked on the sound. His right knee buckled as if kicked from behind, though no one was there, and he stumbled forward into the mud. He bent sideways and retched.

“Swear it,” the boy repeated.

Heat flushed Chauncey’s neck; it took all his energy to curl his hands into two weak fists. He laughed at himself, but there was no humor. He had no idea how, but the boy was inflicting the nausea and weakness inside him. It would not lift until he took the oath. He would say what he had to, but he swore in his heart he would destroy the boy for this humiliation.

“Lord, I become your man,” Chauncey said venomously.

The boy raised Chauncey to his feet. “Meet me here at the start of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan. During the two weeks between new and full moons, I’ll need your service.”

“A … fortnight?” Chauncey’s whole frame trembled under the weight of his rage. “I am the Duc de Langeais!”

“You are a Nephil,” the boy said on a sliver of a smile.

Chauncey had a profane retort on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it. His next words were spoken with icy venom. “What did you say?”

“You belong to the biblical race of Nephilim. Your real father was an angel who fell from heaven. You’re half mortal.” The boy’s dark eyes lifted, meeting Chauncey’s. “Half fallen angel.”

Chauncey’s tutor’s voice drifted up from the recesses of his mind, reading passages from the Bible, telling of a deviant race created when angels cast from heaven mated with mortal women. A fearsome and powerful race. A chill that wasn’t entirely revulsion crept through Chauncey. “Who are you?”

The boy turned, walking away, and although Chauncey wanted to go after him, he couldn’t command his legs to hold his weight. Kneeling there, blinking up through the rain, he saw two thick scars on the back of the boy’s naked torso. They narrowed to form an upside-down V.

“Are you—fallen?” he called out. “Your wings have been stripped, haven’t they?”

The boy—angel—whoever he was did not turn back. Chauncey did not need the confirmation.

“This service I’m to provide,” he shouted. “I demand to know what it is!”

The air resonated with the boy’s low laughter.

Allie

Book Review 15 - Hush, Hush, by Becca Fitzpatrick

OK, I totally jumped on the YA bandwagon with this one.

What can I say about this cover
that hasn't already been said? It's not
my favourite out there, but it's still
pretty good!

Angels + teenage love = GIRLS BETWEN THE AGES OF TWELVE AND EIGHTEEN BEWARE! THE VIRUS MAY VERY WALL BE INFECTING YOU AT THIS VERY MOMENT! But wading through all that hype is worth it - underneath, there really is a book worth devouring. I know anyone who's anyone has probably read it by now, but I didn't get it for a while after it was published and I eventually had to see what all the fuss was about. I finished it a long time ago, andnever got around to reviewing it - I should have, but I didn't, so I'm doing it now. Better late than never...

I'll be straight with you. This book screams romance. Which wouldn't have interested me not so long ago, but my recent introduction and subsequent obsession with YA fiction means the hollering of true love affects the plotline in a good way. The romance is dark, and seductive, and sometimes even funny. It's the lifeblood of the book, and without it, the story wouldn't be the same.

The characters are easy to like, no matter how many times you tell yourself you shouldn't. Patch is, of course, incredible. It's taking everything I have not to write about him in block capitals. Even though there were times when I didn't like his decisions, or just didn't like him in general he kept me crawling back - and that's the true mark of Becca Fitzpatrick's prowess. Frustration seeps from every pore of the characters, and yet I continued to read it anyway. It took me a while longer to connect with Nora I couldn't help but see things in her that I enjoyed reading about, and I liked watching her develop. She changes throughout the book just as many of the other characters do, but you realize that these changes are significant at different stages and chapters - and character growth is one of the main things I look for in a book.

 The battle between light and dark that rages between the pages seems realistic as it extends towards the characters, to you and back again. One of my favourite things about it is that even though it is, technically, of the paranormal genre, everything and everyone in it is so easy to imagine. You barely even have to think about conjuring up their images or hearing them speak. The romantic elements - which are, admittedly, a large percentage of the novel - are original and there are paragraphs I just wanted to read over and over. It's dark and tempting and well, should be perfect as a guilt-pleasure novel - except it's not a guilty pleasure because there's nothing to be guilty about. the writing is excellent, and the plot, with all its undercurrents and twists, does deserve credit. Which means - it's okay to enjoy this kind of book! HALLELUJAH!

However, as with any book it has its faults....

I did read it at the same time as I was racing through Fallen by Lauren Kate so the two stories and their similarities did have a minor tug of war with my heartstrings...(and every other part of me,) but overall it didn't really impact on my enjoyment of the novel because their differences were just enough to get me through.

I definitely think it's not one of those books you can re-read as many times as you want because the plot does eventually become too easy to remember and the story loses the element of excitement. There were certain parts of the book that didn't appeal to me or that I simply didn't like, but it's the same with everyone, and to be fair, you're never going to absolutely adore every single word in an entire book. From this review you may think I'm obsessed, but that's actually one of its downfalls - I wished I could be obsessed, but somehow, I just couldn't. Despite how great it is, there's just something missing that I can't put my finger on that stops me from all out shouting 'READ THIS BOOK! AND READ IT NOOOOWW!!' from the rooftops - although I wouldn't tell you not to read it, either. I just think that a lot of the book seems flat. not that it isn't exciting or thrilling - it's more like you can never get fully lost in the story; you're always too aware of the real world, which I think is a shame. However, any YA/YA romance reader will like this book - and might even help them warm up to the fantasy and paranormal genres to boot (although all three genres do in a way go hand in hand these days).

Rereadability: 3/5
Plot: 4/5
Characters: 4/5/5
Writing: 4/5
Overall: 4/5
In five words: excellent, pure YA romance, brilliant.

Allie