My rating: 3 of 5 stars

I loved the first two books. The world building was amazing. A post-apocalyptic America called Panem, 2 tributes one boy, one girl,(children aged 12-17)from 12 districts sent to kill each other until only one, the victor, is left for the entertainment of the Capital. The Capital rules over the districts.

It’s dark, it’s gory, it tells the tale of 17 year old Katniss Everdeen. This particular book, the last of the series, fell flat.

The ending left me wanting to know more. What happened to Katniss? What did she do, other than bear two children to Peeta. What did he do?

I didn’t understand why her sister had to die. It wasn’t necessary, and it was the reason Katniss ended up in the hunger games in the first place, to protect her sister.

The epilogue just didn’t do the book justice, it felt hurried, like the author was in a rush and ran out of time, or maybe pages.

It makes me sad to be so invested in a series and have it end without really explaining so much.

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I thought it was good when I read it. When I read the entire series from start to finish, I realized it was great. The foreshadowing is just so obvious from day one that when you get through it it’s a facepalm moment.

Adored.

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Wow. I listened to this on my iPod the last couple of days. Set, at the time, in the 1970′s, I thought it was outdated, and frankly, thought it could have used some better biology research. Even in the ’70′s we had microscopes with lights, not mirrors. We couldn’t see bacteria moving on a slide without killing, staining and fixing them and viewing under a 100X lens. And a disease was ‘released’ when there were (unexplained) bombings, wasn’t found by researchers, just by an average joe who found the moving bacteria right away.

I smirked. The reader is excellent, I’ve enjoyed him before, and continued to listen, assuming the books was written in the ’70′s.

Although the big bad uglies were called vampires, they were zombies. Wonderful, evil, disgusting, zombies, one of my favorite post-apocalyptic characters.

The MC, Robert Neville, is the last remaining man on Earth who is not infected by the bacteria. He feels he was immune because he was bit by a vampire bat when he was a soldier. He speculated that the bat was infected by the vamp virus and transmitted it to him. Since he didn’t get the virus directly from a human and he fought it off, he became immune. OK, I’ll overlook the fact that he could have been used to make a vaccine, or if it was a bacteria, that the researchers should have found, they could have tried antibiotics, but hey…the book was written in 1954. He did an amazing job detailing possibilities 20 years in the future. It’s easy to pick on a book written 57 years earlier, if you don’t realize it was written 57 years earlier:) Worse, if you’re a biologist who didn’t realize it was a book that early.

There are few books and shows that I am amazed by the far thinking of the author. One would be Star Trek, with the wonderful clam shell ‘Cell Phones. I’d like to add Richard Matheson as another. Doing a little research, I discovered he wrote some of those early Star Treks.

I haven’t seen the movie of the same name, though I understand it was updated. There were actually a few made, which attests to the longevity and adaptability of the basic premise. Very cool!

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I usually keep my TBR pile in order, however, well, somethings are like chocolate: it’s too good to let sit around.
So I bought the book and while I was waiting for the paper, downloaded it to Kindle and sucked it down.

Unlike Magic Bleeds, this books sets up a lot avenues for Kate to take in her future war with her father. She learns more about what and who she really is. She also gains a new understanding for the motivations of the man she called her father, though they shared no common blood. The discovery of what Kate’s mother really was offers more insight into where Kate has gotten all her strengths from. It also scares her.

In many ways, MS feels more like a bridge to the future books, though it wasn’t an unfinished piece in the slightest. Saving magic and magic wielding humans and creatures IS important in Kate’s world, and she is very successful at asskicking the job done.

Kate is intelligent, more so than she even realizes, and in MS she listens and learns crucial information about how to control her blood and where her strengths lie. She also has to overcome the programming her foster father and her guardian and learn to accept the help from her friends.

Ah, and Curran. Unlike many other series where the relationship grow soggy once they are consummated, Curran and Kate keep up the snarking and competition. Kate still can’t accept that Curran actually cares for her. First, she was worried because of the eventual clash between her blood father and herself, and the fear that everyone she is close to died. Now she is worried he had ulterior motives in becoming her mate.

It’s a wonderful book crafted in the way expected from Ilona and Gordon. Five stars. Now, to read the Hex short before I return to my regularly scheduled TBR pile.

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I loved this series. There were many characters that I wish had been expounded on, but I discovered that C.E. Murphy has short stories with Janx, Biali and Malik. I bought them.

In C.E. Murphy’s world, gargoyles, selkies, djinn, dragons, and vampires, make up the old races, the last remaining on Earth. Humans have been crowding them out and the Old Races are both hidden and going extinct.

Times have changed, however the immortal Old Races have not. Alban, a gargoyle, watches over Margrit, a human he is taken with. Margrit is a very good attorney who wants to make a difference, and is drawn into the Old Races disputes as their negotiator.

In this last book, Alban and Margrit have to come to their own agreement as to whether to be together or not. It requires the Old Races to accept that outcrossing to humans is not a banishing offense, secrets revealed about the birth of two half old races and half human children, and a battle scene where Margrit has to fight to keep Alban from being banished.

The book wrapped up Alban’s and Margrit’s story perfectly, and even Tony, her former boyfriend, appears to have a happy ending.
I’m looking forward to reading the short stories and getting immersed in the Old Races world again.
Nice, unusual take on old myths.

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Got into the greenhouse, ran to the shower room. No way was I taking a COLD shower when only my knees were affected. Looked for soap. Hm. Spic N Span or SOS. Grabbed box of SIS and removed jeans. Rinsed legs off with wet t-shirt I had in the locker. Soaked in SIS. Realized it was more likely to cause rash than the pesticide. Rinsed off best I could in sink. Soaked down pants and rubbed in SIS.

Went to bookstore with sodden jeans. Felt like a zombie as I shambled in my heavy wet jeans. Got in and of course the big clearance area didn’t have sweatpants.

Bought 30 dollar Panther Pride Sweatpants I shall NEVER wear again. In medium. I have to go on a diet. They are a bit tight in the butt.
Went to ladies room. Stripped off sodden pants. Used soap from dispenser. Wiped down with towels. So much SIS that my knees foamed. I couldn’t get my legs up to rinse them well. Should have taken the cold shower.

Students are walking in, see the old broad with the fat, pocked legs and lift eyes to heaven. Ladeda. Not seeing anything. I go back to rinsing with paper towels. Slide on Sweat pants. Realize that my socks are soaked and keys are NOT comfortable in pocket of sweat pants. Go back, and spend more money on Panther Pride socks and a lanyard. Which hits my big belly, reminding me, I need to go on a diet.

Sat in study area, removed tags from socks with my teeth, since I forgot to have the clerk do it. Slide on socks and realized my shoes are wet, as well as my orthotics. I’ll wear my nice dry rubber boots. Oops, not going to happen. Water slid in them yesterday when I groomed plants as I was watering and the hose slipped.

Wet shoes.

Good morning. How was your day? I’m walking around like a stuffed bumble bee.

Mud

My favorite characters aren’t always the sharpest tools in the shed concerning intelligence, but they ALWAYS have the most incredible rapier wit. Charley Davidson made me laugh from the first page. Some Grim Reaper:) What an amazing debut author!

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I get tired reading about romantic vampires, be they with fangs, sparkling, tattooed, or preordained to meet their mates. Don’t get me wrong, I still paranormal romance, but what happened to the dark vampire, the charismatic, blood sucking vamp, that doesn’t fall in love with the female lead and go off softly into the sunset?

That’s one why I am totally enthralled by Faith Hunter’s Urban Fantasy series with Jane Yellowrock. Jane was introduced in Skinwalker, a Cherokee Skinwalker, apparently the last of her kind. If that wasn’t bad enough, Jane actually is more than a Skinwalker. Black magic in her past bound her to the soul of another, a panther known simply as beast.

Another is Hunter’s remaining true to natural laws, placing this Urban Fantasy as completely possible, a parallel reality to our own.

In Mercy Blade, we pick up where Jane left off with her boyfriend, undercover cop Rick. They make an interesting couple, Rick can’t share work stories anymore than Jane can. Rick investigates the paranormal, Jane is a Vampire Hunter, killing rogues for the Master Of the City in New Orleans. If that weren’t enough, Rick is not aware that Jane is a shape shifter. Common interests, including their motorcycles, makes it work this early in their relationship.

The story leads back into the dark world of the paranormal community. The weres are coming out of the closet, a black Wereleopard shifts on national television, giving Jane some possible clues to her own background.

Unfortunately, the Werewolves and the Vampires in New Orleans have a longtime dispute. Although they have stayed out of the city, the Werewolves take up a long run grudge against Leo, the MOC, and crash the Vamp/Were meeting. They were not invited.

Murder, mayhem, and new characters are introduced. What is the Mercy Blade, and what does he have to do with vampires and saving them from the madness of dolore? Jane has to decide if Rick is just undercover again, playing around on her, or if she needs to save him. There are other men interested in Jane, not just what she is. But as Beast says, big cats don’t mate for life.

The paranormals in Hunter’s universe have long memories. Jane’s may even be longer.

As usual, more clues are scattered as to Jane’s past, and new lines are opened for future books. As with other favorite books in this genre, if there are any real issues with the book is that it takes too long to wait for the next.

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The zoo is free today. The Tall Dude, ever thrifty, decided it had been far too long since we went last. So, after a frantic search for my mittens (one under the van, one within, with a few attempts to fit into the Tall Dudes gloves…fat chance), then remembering the camera, off we went, over hill and dale (poor dale).

The wolves were getting presents today, Tall Dude is a wolf aficionado. His favorite dog was the one that scared me the most, my GSD Tears. Tears loved him…as long as I wasn’t in the room. Then she wouldn’t let him near me. He took her back to her breeder in NY, a last chance to say goodbye and visit his sister. The springers are as distant to wolves as jellyfish are to us. At least, in his opinion.

Brightly wrapped boxes were brought into the enclosure, and the three wolves pounced on them, ripping the wrapping and the boxes to find their surprises inside: frozen field mice for snacks, bits of caribou and elk fur to roll on, pigs ears to swallow, and giant raw hide bones. There is something sort of wrong seeing a large timber wolf male, with his magnificent ruff, long black tipped white hairs, grey eyes, with the knobs of a rawhide bone sticking out from either side of his muzzle.

The penguins were as fascinated by us as we were of them. Did I mention I brought my camera? Oops, forgot the memory card. Yes, there is an internal memory of about, oh, 3 pix. I took one of the penguin, which will stay on the camera forever. I don’t have anyway of getting it to the computer. I should have brought my IPod.

The jaguars were bored. The big male Mandrill attempted to copulate with the female. Who walked away and gave him the finger. Wish I could have taken a picture of that. The lions slept, evidently stuffed with Christmas dinner. The snow leopard looked dead, upside down in the snow. If its chest hadn’t been rising and falling I would have thought they should come remove. it.

A baby orangutan kept clambering on an electrical spool to a hose hanging as a vine. It would grab on before swinging into the wall.
George, George, George of the jungle, watch out for that tree. Your guess is as good as mine why it wanted to mash its face in. Maybe it didn’t get the toy it wanted?

Ended with a lovely Earl Grey suffused with bergamot oil, and a chocolate chip cookie before going home to the pack.

My own animals received frozen beef heart chunks and the betta got a clean fish bowl.

Happy Holidays from the Muddy Paws Pack!

I was wearing a large floppy straw hat, headphones underneath, a plastic apron that touched my feet, dark sunglasses getting small spots of whitewash, and wellies, so getting up and down the ladder with a heavy sprayer was not easy. In order to see if I hit the right spot, I would race inside, look up, still see the sunlight stream in and scorch the plants.

No matter how high I could reach, or cling like spider man, I could NOT get the whitewash up to the peak.

One of the scientists at WATER saw me clinging to the greenhouse with the sprayer. He was very concerned, and he probably was right to be. The stories of my klutziness are not exaggerated. Like the good scientist he is, he suggested maybe the shop guys could rig up an extension to the sprayer so it would go farther.

And then he wouldn’t have to bury me at see.

Since my colleague had almost killed me when she called my cell, startling me with the whooga ring and vibrator, I thought this was a fine idea, we went to the shop. One of the guys looked at the sprayer, he waved over one of his co-workers and they discussed various plans.

“This is Mr. Pipe, he can do anything” I was assured.

“Besides everyone wants a longer rod.” The guys cracked up.

I looked over the narrow gauge tube and looked at them. “Actually, I prefer some width as well.”

The guys looked stunned, then laughed.

“Of course, then the white stuff might not come out as well.”

I thought they were going to choke to death. Hey, I can give as good as I get. I’ve worked with men a LONG time.

Anyhow, I was provided with a fancy copper extension I could bend any way I wanted. After all, it’s not the length or the width, sometimes it’s all in the technique.

I went out to the greenhouse, reloaded, and viola, a beautiful stream of whitewash arced out from the nozzle and landed exactly where I wanted it.

It was fabulous, except when I slipped a little, used my arm to catch myself, and ended up whitewashing over my sunburn. I think if I was going to whitewash like Zn Oxide, I should apply it first.

When I finished both sides, it was necessary to clean my equipment. I had my alconox, sponge, bottle cleaner, and hose at the ready. I turned on the hose, and it slipped between my legs and drenched my crotch.

Yup. I looked like I’d had a bad accident. Worse, it felt like that as well. I left the apron, the hat, the wellies on to go back into the building to use a dryer to dry off. Except, I realized, that I would need a chair to reach my crotch…and it would look really kinky.

I decided wet crotches weren’t the worst thing that could have happened.
Now I’m watching the weather. If it rains…I get to do it ALL again.

Where is Huck Finn when you need him?

Post script. When I went on vacation, the boss had to water. Guess I still didn’t reach far enough, he had to redo it. Next year in a cherry picker I guess.