Laurie Halse Anderson, Fever 1793: It's August, 1793, and another hot summer in Philadelphia for Mattie Cook, who lives with her mother and grandfather and works at the family coffee shop, making plans for expanding the shop and trying not to clash with her mother. Soon, though, Mattie's problems become more serious, when fever breaks out and she must learn how to survive in a city gone mad. I thought Anderson did an excellent job with the historical details, which are well integrated and not overdone, but I wasn't as invested in the characters as in Anderson's other books; there's some emotional distance which kept me from caring quite as much as I wanted to. Still, this is a fine historical novel and well worth reading.
Loretta Chase, Not Quite a Lady: Oh, what a relief. This is the latest in Chase's Regency romance series about the Carsington brothers, and it's much better than the last, Lord Perfect, which I thought was mostly boring. Here, the Earl of Hargate gives Darius Carsington, the youngest of his sons, a challenge: if he can make the decrepit old Beechwood estate produce income within a year, he'll be excused from marriage, but if he can't, then he must find a wife and settle down. Being at Beechwood brings Darius into close proximity with a lovely neighbor, Lady Charlotte Hayward, who has a secret of her own. I really liked the main characters; Lady Charlotte's back story is handled particularly well, as is the Big Reveal to Darius.
Elizabeth Bear, New Amsterdam: Sebastien de Ulloa is a wampyr, an ancient being who has come to the New World with his protégé, Jack Priest; Lady Abigail Irene Garrett is a Detective Crown Investigator and sorceress working for the British government in the city of New Amsterdam. In a series of intertwined novellas, they investigate various crimes, in an America which never gained its independence from Great Britain. I really liked this; the characterization is complex, the mysteries are intriguing, and the worldbuilding is excellent, with details slowly building up, forming a more and more complete picture of the alternate history.
Mindy Klasky, Girl's Guide to Witchcraft: Jane Madison is a plain-Jane librarian with a low-paying job in Washington DC. When the library cuts her salary down, they compensate by offering her a cottage on the library grounds, rent-free: a cottage, it turns out, with a secret basement full of witches' books and tools and even a familiar, a snarky cat-turned man named Neko. As an experiment, Jane does a spell and finds herself irresistible to men...maybe even to the mysterious warder who turns up every time Jane does magic. This is a lighthearted, fun mixture of chick lit and fantasy; though I sometimes wanted more magic and less dating angst, I had a good time reading it and look forward to the sequel.
Elizabeth Bear, Blood and Iron (reread), Whiskey and Water: Man, these are good. My brain isn't working well enough to say anything coherent about W&W; it's as intricate and compelling as B&I, though, plus it has Kit Marlowe! I did find the multi-threaded plot a little more confusing than B&I, so perhaps I will try to find time to reread soon.
Maureen Johnson, Girl at Sea: Clio Ford isn't having the summer she wanted. Just after she landed the art store job she wanted (within the range of the guy she's crushing on), she found out that instead, she has to spend the summer with her estranged father. Worse yet, she'll be trapped on a yacht in the Mediterranean with her dad, his best friend Martin, his new girlfriend Julia (an archaeology professor), the girlfriend's gorgeous daughter Elsa, and Aidan, an arrogant grad student Clio knows she won't get along with, all searching for something that nobody will reveal to Clio. This was a good outing from Johnson, with lots of plot and intrigue and interpersonal tensions to keep it going -- not as good as Devilish or The Bermudez Triangle, but better than 13 Little Blue Envelopes. I particularly liked the tangled relationships between Clio and Elsa and Aidan, which could easily have turned into heroine-vs.-rival girl annoyingness but was actually very well handled.
Emma Bull, Territory: I liked this a lot, and I should have logged it right after I read it, because I can't think of anything coherent to say about it. It's a mix of fantasy and Western, sort of a secret history of Tombstone, the Earps, and Doc Holliday; the writing is great, and the magic subtle but powerful. I like how Bull mixes her fictional characters into the historical milieu; though I know very little about the period and the people and so can't vouch for historical accuracy, it worked well for me. Do note that this is the first of two books, so there isn't a lot of plot resolution (and no gunfight at the OK Corral). I'm really looking forward to the second book.
Diana Peterfreund, Under the Rose: the second in Peterfreund's series (there's at least one more to go) about a secret college society called Rose & Grave. In the first book, Amy Haskel was inducted into the society as one of the society's first-ever female members and had to deal with the fallout of the society's decision to include her and the other women. Here, all seems well until all the women members receive a mysterious message warning that the society is breaking down, and one of the women disappears. I thought the plot was less engaging than in the last book, but the intra-society interactions continue to be a lot of fun, especially when Amy is forced to seek the help of an older member who's not exactly pleased to assist. Still library books, I think, but I'll keep reading.
Jennifer Crusie, Eileen Dreyer, and Anne Stuart, The Unfortunate Miss Fortunes: Dee, Lizzie, and Mare Fortune have been hiding from their aunt Xan for years; each sister has a different magical ability, none very controlled, and Xan wants their power. Now, Xan has cast a spell to bring the sisters' true loves to their small town and thereby force a confrontation. The concept is interesting, and the plot hangs together fairly well, but there's simply not enough space in the book to develop all three sisters and their lovers fully, let alone the villain or the minor characters. Three books might have done it, but as it was, I ended up only really interested in Mare, the youngest sister, who has at least some backstory with her love interest (and is incidentally the sister written by Crusie, which is why I read the book in the first place -- I do wish Crusie would go back to writing by herself). I'm glad I got it from the library, as I definitely don't see myself rereading it.
Bill Buford, Heat: An Amateur's Adventures as Kitchen Slave, Line Cook, Pasta-Maker, and Apprentice to a Dante-Quoting Butcher in Tuscany: After a marvelous dinner party with Mario Batali, Buford decides that he wants to know more about Batali, cooking, and food, so he signs up as a kitchen slave in Batali's flagship NY restaurant, Babbo, beginning a food odyssey from various stations in Babbo's kitchen to small towns in Tuscany. This was really great: funny, observant, good food descriptions, interesting bits and pieces of old food writing and cookbooks, and full of personality, from Buford himself, whose humility and humor are very endearing, to the larger-than-life characters of Mario Batali, Marco Pierre White, and the aforementioned Dante-quoting butcher in Tuscany.
Joan Aiken, Go Saddle the Sea, Bridle the Wind, The Teeth of the Gale: an excellent YA historical fiction (with a touch of fantasy) trilogy, just as exciting and fast-paced as I expected from Aiken. The orphaned son of an English soldier and a Spanish noblewoman, Felix has been raised in his grandfather's stern household in Spain, the only love he has known given him by the cook, Bernardina. On her deathbed, she gives him some of his father's possessions, including a mysterious letter which sets him off on a quest to find his heritage; along the way, there are gypsies, shipwrecks, intrigues, murders, and other excitements galore. The historical background (post-Napoleonic Spain) is excellently done, and Felix himself is a vivid, engaging character; Aiken handles his development (the books cover six years or so of his life) beautifully and provides a host of other colorful characters as well.
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: reasonably good, though slow in the middle and expository-heavy at the end, and I'm not entirely happy with Rowling's gender roles. Still, there were lots of things I found satisfying and/or squee-worthy.
Graham Joyce, The Facts of Life: Set in war-torn Coventry, England, during and just after WWII, this is the story of the Vine family, through the focus of Frank, the illegitimate son of unstable, fey Cassie, who has periods of depression and sees odd visions, and the grandson of sensible, strong Martha, who can talk to the dead. Because Cassie isn't competent to take care of Frank, he is passed around among his grandmother and several aunts, all quirky in different ways. The Facts of Life is subtly fantastic, full of ghosts and visions, yet down-to-earth, funny, and tender; I especially liked the setting, as Joyce examines the intense bombing Coventry received during the war and how it affected the lives of its inhabitants.
Elizabeth Taylor, The Blush: How I love just picking up random books published by Virago (easy to pick out that dark green spine) and knowing that I'll almost certainly like them. This is a collection of short stories of domestic life, situations, and relationships, each full of wit, empathy, and subtle characterization. I'd never read Taylor before and will certainly be looking for more; happily, Virago has published several more of her novels and short story collections.
Scott Westerfeld, So Yesterday: I think I've now read all of Westerfeld's YAs, and this was easily my least favorite. Usually I think Westerfeld's ideas are neat, but this time around, they just didn't grab me; it's all about trendsetting and spotting what's cool, preferably before it becomes cool, and I wasn't that interested. Plus, although the pace is good and managed to carry me through my slight boredom with the concept, the resolution is amazingly anti-climactic. Oh, well, can't win 'em all, I guess.
Georgette Heyer, Sprig Muslin (reread), Bath Tangle: I still love Sprig Muslin on first reread, for its quiet, understated romance against a background of rollicking plot; it might actually have moved further up my list of favorite Heyers. Bath Tangle was good, but not a favorite; I thought the romantic tangles were intriguing, but I can't say that I cared much for the hero and only a little more for the heroine. I rather preferred the secondary romance, in fact.
Also read this month:
Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights (reread): I guess I'm just a Charlotte and Anne girl; I admire Wuthering Heights for its power and passion but do not love it.
Gerald Durrell, Two in the Bush (reread): about a trip to New Zealand, Australia, and Malaya. This remains one of my favorite Durrells; there's a sequence about a mysterious bather that makes me cry with laughter.
Polly Evans, It's Not About the Tapas: A Spanish Adventure on Two Wheels: an account of a single woman's bicycle trip through Spain, sometimes entertaining, often annoyingly patronizing.