Friday, July 27, 2012

Lark:


My rating: 3 1/2 out of 5 stars.
A girl is taken, stolen. A gymnast, diver, ballerina, best friend and baby sitter is kidnapped from curbside out side her gym. She's tied to a tree and left to die, having already been beaten, stabbed and bruised. Lark never thought she'd be one of those girls from the news. The ones making sadistic headlines, Missing Girl Found Dead; but she did, she made headlines and the entire town skipped a beat, only a beat.
When Lark finds that her soul cannot move on from the tree she'd died tied to, she reaches out to her old best friend Eve and Nyetta a little girl Lark would babysit. She needs only for them to look. If they see what happened and understand her death Lark will be free. 
Potentate in its realism, stark in its ferocity, and somehow mangled with rigid lyricism. I absolutely devoured the entire short read. I felt at one point that my heart had frozen, been brittled over with littering cracks running the entire length of it, for surely not more could hurt after this novel. The descriptive nature of which Porter portrays three separate yet interwoven lives is awe-inspiring and at points left me breathless. I was so thoroughly stunned to the point at one interval that I glared down at the book silently cursing its existence then tossed it onto my bed determined to no longer read it anymore.
Porter's writing style is something of a unique quality, it is fluid and richly descriptive, while complex and unnerving. At some point I thought it might hold a bit of prose in it for the rhythm of the novel seem to pulse with the beat of a good freelance poem.

Perfect (Pretty Little Lairs #3):

"Apparently
Aria's platform boots
and grey knitted earflap hat
indicated she was surely up to something
nefarious."

My Rating: 3 1/2 out of 5 stars.
First off; what did Shepard grow up around?! I mean either she's got a morbid bone to pick with her parents or she's read far too many Bronte novels. The parents of these girl are horrid unloving things. Poor Aria's mom can't suck up her feelings long enough to realize she's a mother and oh yeah maybe their dad screwing a teenage girl might be just a little hard on Aria too. But oh its too hard for Ella to look at her, right. 
Spencer's parents; well I won't even get into that social service agents wet dream. I mean seriously who disowns a girl for kissing her sisters boyfriend and then freezes her out while her missing friends body is dug up in front of her eyes. Grimm fairytale here we come young adult readers. Hanna, poor demented Hanna. Grow a pair and drop Mona; she's a hag. Your mother well, she's the least terrifying of mothers; your dad well he's-a-piece-of-shit. Excuse my French. He doesn't want you okay no problem take comfort in the fact that drifting men always wander again. Pretty soon Isabel will be boring and plain, Kate will the selfish Bitch she always is and he'll be onto daughter and wife 3.0. 
E
mily, Emily, Emily I feel for you really. A dilemma that big is not something you can actually ignore. Fake being straight to appease that racist cow and continue to live amongst humans and not pigs. Toughie really! Things after this really just start to spiral off the band wagon, my darlings. But no, no more juicy, details from me. However, I can drop a few hints can't I? Just enough to make Ali proud.

WHAT HAPPENED:

Apparently soul mates cant be separated, let's hope a certain someone looks fetching in orange. Besides someone had to get That Scooby sniffer of yours pointed in the right direction or who knows what else you might have dug up. Secrets are better left to capable and experienced hands wouldn't you say? Wouldn't want to accuse the wrong killer. 

Oh Hanna you poor (gaining) little cheese addicted thing; didn't I tell you Mona was a hag. Best friends, please Hon you've got bigger SUV's to deal with. And more hurtles than Death himself just to find a suitable guy.

Memories can be telling can't they Spence, best to keep them locked up in that expansive subconscious of yours. You know for plausible deniability. Never know when a pretty lair is going to have to take a polygraph.

Tsk, Tsk Ems don't you know you should never leave your phone anywhere. Texts have a way of popping in at the most inconceivable times. Bright side; apparently occults can't change you. Phew; good to know. 

- A