1) "Truthwitch" by Susan Dennard
Two devoted friends dreaming of independence contend with unfathomable magic and the schemes of empires in this action-packed series opener.
Safiya and Iseult are an unlikely pair. Safi, the hotheaded daughter of an impoverished but noble family, is a Truthwitch, born with the rare ability to tell if someone is telling the truth or lying. Quiet Iseult is a Nomatsi Threadwitch, despised for her ethnic identity but gifted with the ability to perceive the emotions of others as colored threads. When the two friends become fugitives from the law, they decide to flee together, not realizing that Safi’s witchery has already made them targets in a larger political struggle. Dennard (Strange and Ever After, 2014, etc.) jumps from alternate history with zombies to epic fantasy with this new series. Her worldbuilding is impressively detailed, though neither the vaguely European setting nor the magic system breaks much new ground. The cinematic action scenes keep the storytelling brisk, and the rotating third-person narration introduces not only Safi and Iseult, but also Merik, the prince of an impoverished small nation, and Aeduan, a mercenary. The overall characterization is uneven, but readers captivated by the intense friendships and burgeoning romances will probably be happy to overlook the novel’s flaws.
Epic adventure and steamy smooches make for a crowd-pleasing formula. (Fantasy. 13-18)
2) "The Rose and Dagger" by Renee Ahdich
Passion and betrayal; sword fights, spells, and sacrifice; and (of course) a flying carpet—all spill over in this culmination of the lush reimagining of The Arabian Nights that began with The Wrath and the Dawn (2015).
Amid a devastating magical storm, Shahrzad is torn from her beloved Khalid, the cursed caliph of Khorasan. Held captive by her first love and the alliance massing against the reputed “bloodthirsty monster” Khalid, Shahrzad will need all her wits, courage, and stubbornness to break the curse, stop the war, and master her own awakening powers. Ahdieh plunges readers immediately into a complex tangle of political intrigue, dark magic, and twisted relationships with little explanation; various subplots are dropped along the way and other events never clearly explained. But the crowded, scattershot narrative is more than sustained by the heady prose, mixing poetic allusion and trenchant earthiness, redolent of exotic scents and sights and textures. The fairy-tale plotting is grounded in pure, raw emotion: Khalid’s tortured nobility and leashed self-loathing, Shahrzad’s brazen ingenuity and fiery devotion, and every other character’s overflowing shame, rage, compassion, pain, loyalty, frustration, desire, loneliness, guilt, grief, and oily ambition. Above all there is the shattering, triumphant catharsis of love—between man and woman, parent and child, teacher and student, sisters and cousins, friends old and new. In a story about stories, love is “the power to speak without words.”
Thrillingly full of feeling. (Fantasy. 14 & up)
Book Two of Two
3) "A Court of Mist and Fury" by Sarah J. Maas
After the events of A Court of Thorns and Roses (2015), Feyre struggles to pull herself back together while imminent threats loom.
In the months after defeating Amarantha and escaping hellish captivity Under the Mountain, Feyre hasn’t been doing well. She’s drowning in guilt over the prices she paid and unable to escape the feeling that she’s trapped. Tamlin is perhaps coping even worse—he’s consumed by the fear of failing to protect her and in denial. While their physical relationship is mutually pleasurable—and graphically hot—their happily-ever-after fairy-tale wedding is further derailed by Rhysand, the High Lord of the dreaded Night Court, who demands that Feyre fulfill their bargain by coming with him (one week a month). Rhys believes war is coming, and he needs Feyre for his dangerous scheme to win it. As Feyre travels between courts and explores the consequences of her resurrection, she learns more about Prythian, its history, and peoples (including its darkest sides: misogynistic cultures and tensions between High Fae and lesser faeries). Occasionally the characters fall too neatly into wholly good or completely bad boxes, which at its least subtle comes across as manipulative of readers, but the large cast provides relief from Feyre’s deep psychological wounds. The erotically charged lead-up to the romantic storyline’s climaxes (pun intended) adds stakes to the cliffhanger.
Hits the spot for fans of dark, lush, sexy fantasy. (Fantasy. 14 & up)
Book Two of Two
4) "Lady Midnight" by Cassandra Clare
By the Angel, it's a new series from the reigning queen of schmaltzy forbidden love against a backdrop of geysering green ichor.
Five years after the events of City of Heavenly Fire (2014), another generation of Shadowhunters confronts first love despite the sins of their fathers. Emma Carstairs and Julian Blackthorn are 17-year-old parabatai, platonically bonded warrior lifemates, sworn to each other since they were both orphaned at 12. Julian, responsible for his four younger siblings, became grave and adult before his time, while Emma grew reckless and obsessed with revenge. Now a series of occult murders has caught Emma's attention. The resulting chaos is trademark Clare, complete with longing looks, uncannily pretty boys, and snarky banter. No mere love triangles here; the circle of taboo ardor has six participants, all preternaturally lovely and extraordinary fighters, Shadowhunter and faerie both; though most are white and the primary characters straight, at least one is explicitly brown-skinned and two of the secondary members bisexual. It's not just lust and romance driving Emma and Julian; they're positively throbbing with stoically stifled emotions for siblings, their Mexican Nephilim allies, and the long-lost half-faerie Blackthorns. Though uneven, this series opener delivers what's promised: eyes like "doors to another world," "the ocean a mile down from the surface," "an oncoming storm over the ocean," or "the back of a silver spoon."
Fans of Clare's grandiloquence will enjoy the torrid new cast of characters, positively aquiver with secret ardor and murderous zeal. (Urban fantasy. 13-17)
5) "Glass Sword" by Victoria Aveyard
Reborn as the infamous “lightning girl,” Mare struggles to build an army of newbloods to face the murderous new king.
After narrowly escaping the burning city of Naercey, Mare and her friends make their way to a secluded island where her family and the Scarlet Guard lie low. Bruised and beaten, Mare quickly realizes she can’t trust anyone, not even her closest friends—maybe not even family. But Mare has a plan: she’s going to track down the rest of the newbloods—Reds with unknown powers that rival the strongest Silvers’—and build an army. She sets out with those closest to her, including Cal, the now disgraced prince. Feeling incredibly alone, she can’t help but gravitate toward him; they share an ache for the person they both believed Maven to be before he became a treacherous king. As her conviction rises, so does the body count, and it isn’t long before Mare becomes eerily like the killer she’s trying so hard to destroy. Though her friends are disturbed by what she’s become, not even they can stop her now. Her quest is fraught with trials and bloodshed, but the action lags; the traps begin to feel too familiar, and the first-person, present-tense narration spares no detail. Tragedy seems to be a certainty before the end, but the spectacle still packs a surprising punch.
This too-long heroine's journey requires that the next volume provide sufficient fireworks to keep readers invested in the planned four-book series. (Fantasy. 13 & up)
Book Two of Two
6) "Passenger" by Alexandra Bracken
A dedicated violinist finds her life taking a different turn when she learns that she is a time traveler in this series opener.
Etta is 17 and ready to make her musical debut near her home in New York City when she finds herself suddenly catapulted onto a sailing ship in 1776. With her is Sophia, a rival time traveler who explains that the ability runs in families. Etta soon learns that her mother has hidden, somewhere in time, a valuable and dangerous object that, in the wrong hands, could cause catastrophic damage to time. Sadly, Etta herself falls into the wrong hands but agrees to try to find the object, following clues her mother left through time. Fortunately, Nicholas, a biracial former slave, also has the ability, and he joins Etta—but is he working with her or against her? Never mind his motive, however, because the two eventually fall in love. Bracken keeps pages turning with her descriptions of the different destinations the couple explores, including 1940 London and 1685 Angkor. Nicholas, a sailor who dreams of owning his own ship, speaks modern English perhaps too well, but his reactions to technology such as electricity and buses ring fairly true. The author places more focus on suspense than on romance, which she develops slowly. Already lengthy, the book ends with a cliffhanger and clearly more to come.
Long but intriguing, and sometimes exciting—the payoff is in the future. (Fantasy. 12-18)
7) "The Raven King" by Maggie Stiefvater
A group of Virginia teenagers finally finds a long-buried Welsh king in this conclusion to the four-part Raven Cycle.
A demon has infected the magical forest, Cabeswater, killing Ronan's mother, Aurora, and threatening Ronan's brother, Matthew, as well as Ronan and maybe the whole world—Gansey knows what he has to do. It's all been foretold, and readers have been waiting for it since Blue saw him on the corpse road in quartet opener The Raven Boys (2012). For three out of four novels, Stiefvater combined extraordinary magic and visceral reality in a way that felt entirely true. Here, the magic scatters in all directions, and too little of it makes sense. The characters—Ronan, Gansey, long-dead Noah, Blue Sargent, newcomer Henry, and especially Adam—are as multidimensional and fully realized as ever; Ronan and Adam's budding romance is beautifully told. The writing sings—each sentence, each paragraph marvelously wrought. Yet at the point where the story needs to make the most sense, it makes the least, prophecy and magics piling up on one another in a chaotic, anticlimactic climax. The ending feels trivial, almost mocking the seriousness of the rest of the quartet.
Stiefvater couldn't write a bad book, and this isn't one, but it is a disappointment after years of glorious buildup. (Fantasy. 14 & up)
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