Bloody Rose

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• Let me attempt to explain how Bloody Rose didn’t disappoint, not even a little bit. Those last one hundred pages seriously took me for a ride and destroyed my emotions, wrecking me in a way that every author wants to wreck their reader, because you know that you made them care. Based on how my heart feels right now, I think caring about these characters is a massive understatement. Page 495 had me stubbornly wiping away tears at my desk at work, struggling to conceal everything I’m trying to hide, how expertly this book ensnared me, destroyed me and then put me back together again.
• Yet, even though I was dealing with seeing Saga in a different light, going back into that world felt like coming home and I didn’t want to leave. Hell, I still don’t. Yet, it also showed the world in a much different light than I was ever used to seeing it; the more realistic one, perhaps. I shared a lot of Tam’s emotions and sentiments regarding the touring, arenas and treatments of the “monsters” the longer she toured with Fable and some of those descriptions and treatments were truly hard to read. It didn’t lessen my enjoyment of the novel at all. In fact, I believe it heightened it, because I felt the world moving forward. Following Fable and seeing how the next generation interacted with the world truly felt like the nice juxtaposition Bloody Rose is to Kings of the Wyld, being sequel yet standalone.
• Though my loyalty to Saga will never wane, my love for Fable will also never disappear. I fell in love with them like you do a family, where a wide range of emotions are felt: admiration and adoration for Freecloud; pain on behalf of Cura and an intense desire to protect her, even though she doesn’t need it; an intense love for Brune and a willingness to do anything to help him; a fondness for Tam that I could never shake, as I continually saw myself in her, even though we’re completely different; an annoyance towards Rose as she continued to chase after breaking out of her father’s shadow unrelentingly, yet I’d follow her command no matter what she asked for me.
  Fable started out as a band who I was curious to see what all the hype was about and if they could live up to the version I’d created of them in my head, as a curious fan of a past generation of bands. By the end, they became family, despite of and because of unveiling their truths behind their legend. And they became greater for it, in my eyes.
  Obviously, the end of the book wrecked me. Without spoiling anything, on multiple occasions, my heart stilled because of what happened, because of what you did (*looks directly at the author*) and every time, I hoped I was wrong, but I knew I was right, even before later chapters confirmed it. Eames wields emotions like magic and I don’t think I can accurately describe how he ensnared me so utterly, as he did–or how he does it, to be honest–but there is no question that, once again, a book by his pen has risen to the top of my favorite books and I’m left waiting for the next installment; one that, truly, I have no idea where it’s going to go, but I am completely ready for the ride, nonetheless.

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