I was given this book to review.

Twenty Boy Summer, a YA novel about two girls struggling to come to terms with the death of their best friend, hits like a most beautifully wrapped ton of bricks. Frankie and Anna are best friends, journeying on a spectacular trip to California. Last year Frankie’s older brother Matt spend a dazzling month secretly dating their best friend Anna before Matt died of an undiagnosed heart problem.

The book starts out describing how lucky the girls were to have survived the accident (Matt was driving when his heart gave), then proceeds to reveal what a misnomer “survival” is. Even a year later Frankie’s family is torn apart by their loss, and Anna, having sworn to keep her relationship with Matt a secret, is devastated at not being allowed to properly morn her own loss (or even understand what exactly she’s lost).

So the girls make a plan to meet twenty boys in their quest to lose their virginity and leave their heartache behind. But their search only triggers all the fears and emotions left behind, particularly as Anna is terrified that moving on will make what she had with Matt less special.

Twenty Boy Summer is beautiful, heartbreaking and a raw read through and through. While there are very few surprises here, and the plot is all character and angst driven, it speaks, very strongly, to anyone who has lost someone they love and has gone through the mourning process. This is not a fluffy, light-hearted fictional read, or even a fiction tale with serious, dark undertones. Twenty Boy Summer bears a resemblance the nineties film My Girl and the Katherine Paterson book The Bridge to Terabithia, set after the landmark character deaths and in a teen setting. Soulful and beautiful it’s a must, but difficult, read.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls (prequel to Pride and Prejudice and Zombies) had me from page one.

“Mr. Ford was as well behaved as any corpse could be expected to be. In fact, he lay stretched out on the bier looking almost as stiff and expressionless in death as he had been in life, and Oscar Bennet, gazing upon his not-so-dearly-departed neighbor, could but think to himself, You lucky sod.”

Mr. Hockensmith, you had me at “well behaved corpse”.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls is a ironic, sassy romp through the England of classic literature (and zombies). It’s a “Hell Yes!” inducing book for anyone who ever had to dissect stodgy, self-important prose in high school English class.

Despite deserved criticism on the concept (but I doubt any of these mash ups are intended to be lasting, stately examples of “literature”) this book brings a sorely needed element to the both the zombie and high literary genres–humor. P&P&Z: Dawn of the Dreadfuls is a reminder that reading, first and foremost, is supposed to be an enjoyable experience. In times like this, especially, we need to know that it’s okay kick back and enjoy, rather than analyzing and studying until the world around us lacks context and meaning. We can temper the horrible, the bloody and the overbearing and self important with skilled writing, enchanting characters and make reading a pleasurable way to spend the time again.

And speaking of fun If you go here (Quirk’s webpage) and post that my review sent you there we (that is you too!) will be entered to win one of 50 Quirk Classic Prize Packs (worth over $100), which include:

• • An advance copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies: Dawn of the Dreadfuls
  • Audio Books of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies and Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters
  • A password redeemable online for sample audio chapters of Dawn of the Dreadfuls
  • An awesome Dawn of the Dreadfuls Poster
  • A Pride and Prejudice and Zombies Journal
  • A box set of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies Postcards

From the back cover of Amberville one might expect a cross between Sesame Street and The Sopranos. Eric Bear, years after leaving behind a life of drugs and a job as a runner for a mafia king, opens his apartment door to find his former boss, the mafia head Nicholas Dove visiting with a request—take Dove’s name off the infamous Death List (literally a list of those slated to disappear from the world) or he will have his gorillas tear apart Eric’s beloved wife, Emma Rabbit.

This kicks off the reforming of Eric’s small gang, Tom-Tom Crow, Sam Gazelle and Snake Marek, who have all moved on from their criminal pasts in their own ways, and a desperate hunt for the society’s biggest secret, the Death List and its writer.

But after finishing Amberville readers will find it to be a very peculiar book. Somewhere between a mafia mystery and a higher-brow literary work addressing the nature of good and evil in the world, Amberville balances a deep mystery and action with deep, soulful contemplations (by mad men, or mad bears as the case may be). In fact the literary, contemplative sections which can, at times come off as lagging bits in the pacing of the plot, genuinely serve to distract and set up the reader, a sign of some truly clever writing.

Yes, the characters really are stuffed animals, living in a world where many things are very clearly defined for them (such as the good areas of town literally being painted different colors from the bad ones). And that analogy doesn’t go very far, in that the type of animal a character is doesn’t necessarily define who they are. And there aren’t really any musing on the nature of man versus beast. But each animal is a full, fleshy—or stuffed—whole with a parallel personality type in our world.

Amberville is the kind of book you wouldn’t think about reading, or you’d expect to not like, only to discover it has a lot more to offer than can be explained on the book jacket. It absolutely keeps you guessing, up to the last sentence, and asks questions but never presumes to offer answers, making it a very good read indeed.