I passed over this at first, thinking it wasn't for me. Not big into faeries, tired of the saturation of faery romance a la a certain someone, and just everything I heard made me go "no".
Then Sorcery of Thorns came. And I feel in love. Just deeply, madly in love.
So I decided that I'd give Enchantment of Ravens a shot. Fate would have it up as free to read on Rivetedlit.com this month. (Feb 2020).
I was pleasently surprised! Her writing is no fluke and gets me. Even if her next read doesn't sound like me again, I'll be trying it out nevertheless.
The former goat twins are a riot.
I enjoy the chaotic evil of these faeries.
I LOVE how Isobel is not swayed by their BS and this enternal life and powers stuff.
Rook being catlike.
Gadfly being...Gadfly.
Surprises and monsters along the way.
I made some connections before Isobel, but she cleverly manuvoured in the situations and saw the big picture in the end.
I read it quickly and enjoyed it the whole way.
It's a typical quick falling, dangerous-being lusty romance. Not my usual or sought after, but it's fun and cute.
Favorite Quotes:
Well, that simply wouldn't do. I hoisted my annoyance back up like a flag on a mast.
They looked like a pair of cupids who had decided they liked shooting people with real arrows betters. They were horrible. I loved them so much.
It feels like having a pair of shackles around our wrists, as light as spirdersilk but strong as iron.
Walking along a blade's edge was only fun until the blade stopped being a metaphor.
And yet looking at Rook I imagined a cat proudly bringing its master dead chipmunks, only to watch the two-legged oaf lift these priceless gifts by the tail and fling them unceremoniously into the bushes.
"Wake up and infuriate me, please."
"It may be cruel, but it is also fair."
While I puzzled over this, I realized why Rook hadn't been able to finish his sentence. It had been a lie.
She'd accepted that behaving correctly meant not being happy, because that was the way the world worked. She hadn't asked enough--of life, or of herself.
"You are like a living rose among wax flowers."
Through it all Rook wore an expression of aloof perplexity, as a cat might watching its favorite furniture get moved without its permission.