Recenzie Enders de Lissa Price

Aceasta diabolica Banca de Corpuri este distrusa acum!

Dar tinerii carora li s-au implantat cipuri continua sa fie controlati si manipulati de Enderi. Callie este urmarita de o fiinta sinistra! Nu mai stie ce e real si ce e fabricat in existenta ei, dar este pregatita sa lupte pentru adevar si o viata normala. Cu orice pret!

My opinion:

Si oficial acesta serie a devenit seria mea preferata. Nu stiu daca pot s-o numesc chiar serie pentru ca e vorba doar despre doua volume, insa amândouă au fost superbe si incredibil de bine scrise. Rar mai întâlneşti ca atât primul volum cat si al doilea sa fie extrem de bune.

Nici una dintre ele nu a avut o acţiune si o descriere a evenimentelor plictisitoare. Mi-a plăcut extrem de mult felul cum a fost construită acesta acţiune, felul in care a fost prezentata, felul in care a fost scrisa, in aşa fel încât de pierdeai in cărţi făcându-te sa crezi ca tu chiar aparţii lumii aceleia din cărţi.

Prin urmare Enders reia acţiunea de unde primul volum a lăsat-o. Pentru cei care aţi citit prima carte ştiţi ca Destinaţii Splendite a dispărut insa problemele lui Callie nu. Ei pe parcursul celui de-al doilea volum veţi vedea ca Destinaţii Splendite a avut un rol mult mai important decât s-a lăsat de văzut  in primul volum. Ce mi-a plăcut enorm de mult la acest volum a fost felul in Lissa prezintă acţiunea, făcându-te sa devii bănuitoare la început, crezând ca ai dreptate si ca persoana respective nu e de încredere, pe parcurs reuşind sa te facă să-i acorzi persoanei respective toată încredere, ca la final să-ţi demonstreze ca ai avut dreptatea in instinctele tale de nu a te încrede in persoana si situaţia respective.

Cred ca este prima autoare care reuşeşte sa se joace in asemenea hal nu puterea mea de imaginaţie.

Nu pot sa spun mult mai multe despre Enders, pentru ca nu vreau sa dezvălui spoilere, inclusive pentru cei care nu au citit acest volum sau cei care nu au citit primul volum. Pot sa spun doar ca cartea merita citita, este o lectura uşoara care îţi pune imaginaţia la bătaie. Este o concluzie minunata, si o încheiere perfecta adusa primului volum. Poate ca multi dintre voi o sa va aşteptaţi la un final si mai precis, insa pentru mine a fost perfect. Ca si cum acest tip de lume chiar exista si ar fi imposibil sa se termina doar in doua volum. Cum spuneam te provoacă să-ţi foloseşti imaginaţia 100%.

Chiar ar fi interesant sa vezi un film având la baza aceste volume. Cine ştie, poate o sa avem parte si de aşa ceva. Pana atunci citiţi cărţile pentru ca sunt minunate, si merita sa aveţi inca o lume in plus la palmaresul de lumii pe care le-aţi adunat deja .:)

Carte are 307 pagini, coperta paperback cu supracoperta si o găsiţi pe site-ul EdituriiTrei.

Favorite quotes:

“Nu te încrede in nimeni, decât in tine. Apoi pune sub semnul întrebării s încrederea aceea.”

“Mana in mana, laolaltă, am înaintat pentru a înfrunta un viitor in care sa ne modelam propriile destine.”

LEAD by Kylie Scott ♥ RELEASE BLITZ

Title: Lead (Stage Dive, #3)

Author: Kylie Scott

Publication Date: July 29, 2014

Publisher: St. Martin's Griffin

 

Synopsis

Stay up all night with the sexy rockers in Stage Dive, the epic rock star romance series from New York Times bestselling author Kylie Scott, author of Lick and Play. As the lead singer of Stage Dive, Jimmy is used to getting whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, whether it's booze, drugs, or women. However, when a PR disaster serves as a wake-up call about his life and lands him in rehab, he finds himself with Lena, a new assistant to keep him out of trouble. 　 Lena's not willing to take any crap from the sexy rocker and is determined to keep their relationship completely professional, despite their sizzling chemistry. But when Jimmy pushes her too far and Lena leaves, he realizes that he may just have lost the best thing that ever happened to him.  

Excerpt

“Lena, you seen my old black Led Zep shirt?” “Nope.” “You sure?” His brows became one dark cranky line. The scratches on his face were healing well, thank goodness. Though it didn’t reduce my desire to throttle his mother on a daily basis. “Yes. I haven’t seen it.” Can’t find it anywhere…” “And this is a surprise, how?” I slipped my hands into my back jean’s pockets. “Jimmy, you own more clothing than Cher, Brittney, and Elvis, put together. Things are bound to go missing.” “Sure you haven’t seen it?” “For goodness sake, what do you think, Jimmy? That I stole it to sleep in or something?” I laughed bitterly. Sure as hell, the truth deserved a good mocking. I’d sunk so despicably low. I hadn’t even meant to steal the stupid thing, but the shirt had been mixed up with my laundry a few days ago. It’d been the first top I laid my hand on after stepping out of the shower, ready to go to bed. Without thought, I’d put it on and it’d been so soft, the scent of him lingering beneath the laundry detergent. Every night since, I’d found myself in it come bedtime. My shame knew no limits. And no, I still hadn’t quit. The words still hadn’t come even close to leaving my mouth. He frowned. “No.” “That I have some deep secret longing to feel close to you resulting in my stealing your shirt like some creepy perv?” “Course I don’t fucking think that,” he replied crankily, reaching up to grip the top of the doorframe. All of his bulging muscles stretched the arms of his white T-shirt in the nicest way. It was all I could do not to start drooling, my heart beat taking up residence somewhere down between my thighs. And who could blame it? Not me. Maybe if I got laid, this would go away and things would return to normal. It’d seemed safer to avoid rubbing up against any men just in case I got carried away and started dating again. This new situation, however, changed everything. “Well, of course not! That would be crazy.” And wasn’t that the god’s honest truth? Cray-zeee. Lock me up and throw away the key because it wasn’t like I didn’t know better. “Just can’t figure out where the hell it could be.” Angels couldn’t have smiled as innocently. They might have tried, but they would have failed, the dirty-mouthed, winged, little liars. “Jimmy, I don’t know where it is. But I’ll look around for it later, okay?” “Yeah,” he said, and then added as an afterthought, “and stop looking at me weird.” “I’m not!”  

The Stage Dive series by Kylie Scott

Lick (Stage Dive #1)

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | B&N | Goodreads

Play (Stage Dive #2)

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | B&N | Goodreads

Lead (Stage Dive, #3)

Amazon US |  Amazon UK | Amazon AU | B&N | iTunes

 

Coming January 6^th, 2015

Deep (Stage Dive #4)

Pre - Order

Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | B&N | Goodreads

   

About Kylie Scott

Kylie is a long time fan of romance, rock music, and B-grade horror films. Based in Queensland, Australia with her two children and one delightful husband, she reads, writes and never dithers around on the internet. 

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads

 

Check out more of Kylie’s work

The Flesh series | Colonist’s Wife | Heart’s A Mess

 

 

The Hobbit

Post by The Hobbit.

Song of the day

Divergent Deleted Scene

Borrowed from the library

ELUDED Lyra Parish ♥ RELASE BLITZ

Title: Eluded

Author: Lyra Parish

Publication Date: July 28, 2014

Synopsis

Lives intersect only to be changed indefinitely... 

Lauren 
This isn't your typical girl meets boy.
There isn't a glass slipper or Prince Charming.
I've lived it and now it will be told.
Welcome to my personal hell...

Derrick 
I once saved lives and now... I so easily end them.

Women are drawn to me like a moth to the flame, and like the moth not all of them continue on. Some are broken, others are damaged, and a few never make it out... but it's their decision to live. Only they often don't know that until it's too late.

F*ck the rules, I create my own in a world where I have nothing left to lose. Living is a game, and I'm the reigning champion by being stronger and smarter than my prey.

This is your warning. If you radiate vulnerability... Well, you could be my next victim. Don't try to hide. I'm not easily eluded.

Abbot 
It started with me and now it will end with me. 
Some people call me an uncontrollable killing monster. I f*cking laugh at the mention of the word.
Monsters have no control. 
I've got plenty. 
I don't kill without reason. I don't kill the innocent. 
I hunt the ones that deserve it, the real monsters, the ones without regret or a soul.

   

Prologue

The dream is always the same. A black van slows ahead of my sister and me as we walk home from school. When we pass, I hear the side door forcefully slide open and the hinges scream out in protest. Two men attack us. They grab us by our arms and their nails claw into our skin, causing it to break. We try to push them away and somehow manage to wriggle free. Then we run. We run like we've never run before, but they are always faster and stronger. When they catch up to us, one grabs my sister, pushes her down to the ground, and laughs. She bites his arm, leaving teeth marks and blood. This does no good though and only pisses him off. Then he slaps her in the face, yells at her, and threatens to kill her . . . but refuses to let go. They are relentless. I want to tell them that she is only ten years old, that she is no good to them, that she isn't even a woman yet, but a hand covers my mouth and an arm places me in a chokehold. My sister lets out blood-curdling cries, and all I know is that I need to save her. I kick my capturer in the knee, and he slams my body, then my head, into the cement until my vision blurs. I know I have a concussion from the brute force, but I continue to attack with everything that I have. No matter how hard I try, they take her. How can a twelve-year-old boy fight against men? He can't. I couldn't. When I think back to that day, I remember what the sky looked like after they pushed me down. It was blue like the color of the sea in Australia. Not often do I remember the sky in London being that color . . . or feeling so helpless. I'm often haunted by the look on my sister's face, and the sound of her screams and pleas as they shoved her into the van. I can still hear the revving of the engine as it hurried down the street like it was yesterday. That was the last time I felt fear. Those men stole more than my best friend and my sister. That day, they stole my soul. This time, I wake up dripping with sweat. Sometimes I am breathing rapidly or yelling, or my heart is racing so fast it pulls me from the nightmare. For the past fifteen years, I've been haunted with the memory of my sister's abduction. I used to blame myself for her having been taken. I no longer accept that burden, and I refuse to sit idly by. The underground darkness of London is at war with itself, and I've caused it. It will not end until the petty fucks that stalk my streets are destroyed. I will stop at nothing. Some people call me an uncontrollable killing monster. I fucking laugh at the mention of the word. Monsters have no control. I've got plenty. I don't kill without reason. I don't kill the innocent. I hunt the ones who deserve it—the real monsters, the ones without remorse or a soul. Sometimes people strive to be different, to step out of the fucking box, only to be misunderstood. The public doesn't understand me, but who really gives a shit? Who are they? Mice. They go to work every single day and spin the same wheel that gets them nowhere. Work. Marriage. Kids. Die. I search for adventure. I love control. When I find trouble, I make it my bitch. Most people call me Abbot. First name isn't needed. I truly believe there is power in a name. My friends respect me, my enemies fear me, and regardless of what I do, at the end of the day I am still a killer. Apparently, that's what defines me. Son, brother, leader of the Gang of London, protector, murderer . . . the only word that matters is the last one. Shakespeare said, "All the world's a stage." If that's true, then where is my standing ovation for a job well done? Twisted fucks like me don't receive positive recognition. We don't deserve to be rewarded for ridding the world of horrible people, because being a murderer outweighs all the good. An eye for an eye, a finger for a finger, or blood for blood. What-the-fuck-ever. I'm not fucked-up from a horrible childhood, unless one counts my sister's abduction. Everyone tries to blame my life choices on my parents' guidance, but my actions are by choice. My mum and dad loved and supported me. They told me I could be anything I wanted when I grew up, until I became what I am today—a cold-hearted killer. No one expected that one.    

About the Author

Words make the world go round. I love to write, travel, and sing really loud at the top of my lungs in the shower. Sweet love stories (along with the dirty ones) make me gush. I am firm believer that a person can never have too many cats or cups of coffee, and that the F word is necessary.

Forget the beach! Give me a gel pen, a stack of blank paper, and beautiful mountains.

You can find Lyra's Weakness series here - https://www.goodreads.com/series/107613-weakness

Facebook | Twitter | Amazon Author Page | Website/Blog

 

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