Do you know what a binturong smells like?
I do, now.
R.L. Naquin’s books are like hot fudge, with or without the ice cream. She has built a world full of magic and magical people, and I love it. She has a gift for description, simile, and metaphor that is right up there with the best of them. “He was short and pudgy with a thin little excuse for a mustache that looked more like he got it from drinking chocolate milk than grew it.” Her characters are just like you and me – except that weird and wonderful things happen to them, and sometimes they’re not human. (Well, for all I know neither are you. And – heh heh heh – for all you know, neither am I.) They can be silly, brilliant, distracted, scary, heart-broken, heart-breaking, unpredictable – realistic. Even when they’re a djinn like Kam, star of this novella.
I love the world these books take place in – why haven’t I read everything yet? I can’t wait.
I highlighted a lot of quotes in this short book – but I narrowed it down to three I couldn’t bear to clear.
I glanced up at all the windows in those buildings and imagined the stuffy offices, the cubicle farms and the atriums filled with miserable plants longing to feel direct sunshine that didn’t stream through glass. A piece of me would probably die a little every day cooped up in there.
(Yes, trust me – it would. It does.)
“Haven’t you learned that you have to believe it to see it?”
She dropped the list on the table. “Don’t you mean ‘seeing is believing’?”
I shrugged. “Sure, if you want the universe telling you what to do. I prefer to make the universe my bitch.”
Was it a coincidence that the last place Pete had been tracked to was a food truck court, or was this fate flapping its arms at me trying to get my attention? I tucked my hands in my pockets to keep from flapping my arms back. Coincidence or not, I believed in fate.
The usual disclaimer: I received this book via Netgalley for review.