When you’re the daughter of the bestselling Queen of Romance, life should be pretty good. But 16-year-old Alice Amorous has been living a lie ever since her mother was secretly hospitalized for mental illness. After putting on a brave front for months, time is running out. The next book is overdue, and the Queen can’t write it. Alice needs a story for her mother—and she needs one fast.

Mad Love was a quick, enjoyable read that simultaneously managed to be light while also covering the fairly heavy topic of mental illness. While some young adult books of late have covered the subject of mental illness in a main character, the mental illness of a close family member–and the ramifications of this illness–has not been seen as often.

Alice is a well-developed, three-dimensional character. She worries about her mother’s health and about how to support her family and keep their finances on track. Even though Alice never truly interacts with her mother until the novel’s conclusion, we witness her deep love for family in her inner monologues, actions, and visits to her mother’s mental health facility. Yet at the same time as she struggles with these unique problems, we see Alice deal with the same feelings that many adolescents have: she crushes on Tony, a boy in town who skateboards past her window every morning, and constantly fights with Realm, another girl living in her building whose goth tendencies and pushy “read my manuscript and get it published” pleadings get on Alice’s last nerve. Alice also harbors deep fears that she herself will develop bipolar disorder and that this so-called Cupid who appears in front of her is irrefutable evidence of her own mental illness. Her moments of panic are realistic and vivid.

Another plus of Mad Love was the fantastic supporting cast of “family-friends,” the other people who live in the house that Alice’s mother owns, who rent out rooms and serve as a surrogate family for Alice. Mrs. Bobot and Reverend Ruttle obviously care for Alice, and it is refreshing to see such an extended family in a YA novel.

As a whole, the book was enjoyable. However, many aspects just didn’t quite work for me, most notably Errol. For a character who was supposed to be Cupid himself, the embodiment of love, Errol the boy never seemed to be fully realized. He was too quiet, too moody, too loath to reveal crucial information, both to Alice herself and to the reader. While this reticence was partially explained by the plot, Errol’s personality really got in the way of my enjoyment of his character and his character’s relationship with Alice.

The first part of Mad Love also dragged a bit, as Alice took way too long to believe Errol’s story and agree to help him with his memoirs. This “buying in” was crucial to the plot, and holding back Alice’s realization and belief for so long really slowed down the novel’s momentum.

Ultimately, however, I did enjoy Mad Love. It was a quick, slightly fluffy read that was perfect for both pre- and post- Valentine’s Day. It was also incredibly refreshing to see bipolar disease presented as something that can be conquered and that is nothing to be ashamed of.

Review copy provided by publisher.

Sometimes, you go into a book a little skeptical because it’s out of your usual taste. It’s not something you’d tend to pick up on your own. But then you open it and realize you’re more than half way through and are enjoying it a lot. And then you’re eager to talk about it.

That was exactly my experience with MJ Putney’s first young adult novel, Dark Mirror, due out March 1 by St. Martin’s Griffin.

It’s 1803 and Victoria — Tory — Mansfield has an idea what her life will be like: she’s grown up in a family with a real name and status, so she’s pretty much set. She’ll marry well and she’ll be wealthy and admired for life.

That is, until she discovers a deep secret buried in her family’s history: she has a magical power. Horrified to discover this about herself, she tries to hide it, but when tragedy strikes at a party, she can’t help but use her talents to save the life of another person, even if it means she’s found out. Her father wastes no time in disciplining his daughter for causing such a scene and sends her to Lackland Academy, a school meant to rid children of the evils. See, it’s a time of war in England, and a time when everyone is on edge about any person who is slightly different. They could be enemies, so it’s necessary to reform these people and get them in line. And don’t even begin to think this helps a wealthy family’s reputation, either.

When she arrives at the Academy, she’s worried about life with a cold roommate and worried about her ability to reform enough to gain the trust of her family again. But she won’t be worried too long about it when she discovers others at the Academy might want to lure her into using her power for good, rather than suppressing it.

Sounds good so far, right? It’s a nice fantasy storyline. But wait: this gets better.

One day while meeting with the other rebellious Academy students, Tory gets off course in the underground tunnels they meet in and falls into a mirror. Not just any mirror, mind you, but a mirror that when she falls into it, she’s sent forward in time to World War II. Tory meets the ancestors of one of her rebellious Academy friends and discovers what was once her school no longer stands as it used to. War and time have demolished everything she knows, and with fear everywhere, Tory begins to think about how she can help these people — and she realizes her power, combined with that of those she knows from her 1803 Academy — might be able to change the course of the war entirely.

Putney’s novel is a fast-paced historical fantasy that really hooked me from page one. This is a plot-driven novel, and that is something you must keep in mine while reading. I didn’t get to know Tory all that well when reading, nor did I get to know Allarde, her romantic interest. But that’s okay, actually, because this is a book about a story. Tory and her classmates each have interesting powers within them: she has the power to fly and one of her companions is able to change the weather. These, along with a host of other powers, when used together have the ability to change the course of history. And why wouldn’t they?

What I liked most about this book were the realizations that Tory had throughout. As a reader, I kept wondering what it would be like were I transformed backwards in time nearly two centuries; I wouldn’t be typing this blog post nor would I be able to pick up my groceries by car. Well, imagine the reverse: imagine being thrust ahead two centuries? Tory and her classmates are completely stunned to see moving vehicles, to learn about planes and what destruction those and boats can cause, and they’re blown away by things like indoor bathrooms. Although smaller pieces in the bigger book, I think these were among my favorite parts — I really felt I got to know the characters, but I also felt like it really nailed the historical aspects of the story for me. On a larger level, though, are the ah ha moments Tory has about how history is repetitive and how small things can completely change end results. When she’s in her original time period, Britain is at war with France and the country is fearful of anyone slightly suspicious; in her time travel existence, Britain is engaged in a war with Germany and the Nazis, and anyone suspicious is considered an enemy. Then there’s the entire idea of Merlin’s mirror and how that reflects on these same realizations; by melding mythology into the story line and making it a key component, as readers we, too, see just how much our reality is shaped by our own fantasy.

If you weren’t aware, Putney is well known for her adult romance novels, and she uses that background in building a romance between Tory and Allarde, a boy she meets early on in her time at the Academy. As readers, we are never completely certain where their interactions will lead, but we have an inkling that something intense will build between them. But these scenes are well done and add a lot to the characters and our understanding of their motives.

The writing in Dark Mirror is serviceable. It’s not bad but it’s not spectacular, and I think that’s sort of how it needs to work when the story being told is so complex. I found some passages a little clunky, and some of the romantic passages felt a little cliche for me. But because story is at the center of the novel, this is all forgivable.

My biggest qualm with the story, though, is two fold: this is the first book in a series, and I feel like book can stand alone perfectly. That is, except for the prologue. I know the prologue meant to serve as a big of a background setting for why magic was worrisome in this historical moment, but it never came to a satisfying conclusion for me. It will likely be woven into the greater series; however, because I’m satisfied with how the story concluded, I don’t necessarily desire more in the end. I kind of like where it stops. Another small issue I had was one of my own as a reader — I did not want to suspend my belief that it takes Tory so long to realize she even holds a magical power. It’s hard for me to believe she was clueless for 15 years about her ability to fly. This, though, I think goes back to my desire for stronger character development and focus on Tory’s internal dialogue.

Putney’s novel will have wide appeal to fantasy fans, as well as fans of historical fiction. This is the kind of novel that will appeal not only to teens but also to adults, as it has the right elements to satisfy both. By not giving Tory too much internal dialogue or too many moments that feel teenage (which you do and should get in a solid historical or contemporary title), the appeal is wider. Dark Mirror surprised me, since it’s not usually my kind of read, but I liked it. Despite having to suspend my beliefs on some stuff, this book worked really well for me. There were so many things to grab on to and enjoy, and readers of fantasy, historical, romance will enjoy this, as will those who enjoy a good genre-bending tale where story is at the core of the book.

And lucky you! St. Martin’s Griffin is kindly offering a copy of Putney’s book for one reader. Fill out the form below, and I’ll pick a winner the second week of March.

Kathryn and Brooke do not get along. The girls are seniors and both actively involved in the school choir. Calling it involved would be an understatement, actually: both are passionate about singing, and both have an opportunity to perform at the Blackmore Young Artists Contest, a huge honor that comes with an even huger check for the winner. For Kathryn, this money means the possibility of attending college to pursue her passion. For Brooke, it’s much less about the money and much more about proving to her family — especially her father — she’s got talent and that she’s worthy of their support.

But will their bitter rivalry be what causes both girls to falter on stage? More than that, though, what even caused the rift between the girls in the first place? Can it be repaired?

Sara Bennett-Wealer’s Rival has pulled me from a reading rut. I found this to be a refreshing book, and one that will resonate with readers strongly. First and foremost, what stood out to me was that the format served the story and the characters perfectly. This story is told in dual voices, beginning with Kathryn and then moving to Brooke, and it is also told through dual time periods: the girls’ senior year and their junior year. Setting the book up this way gives us their current moments in time but also leads us into understanding what created their bitter rivalry. It’s a slow reveal because of this set up, but it needs to be.

What I loved about the use of multiple perspectives in this novel is what usually doesn’t work in other stories set up like this: I felt like both characters had distinct voices. Both Brooke and Kathryn believed the other one had everything enviable. Kathryn believed Brooke to be made of money and privileged and Brooke believed Kathryn was beautiful and the kind of girl she’d want to be around to become much more than she could ever be alone. But the truth of the matter was Brooke was dealing with an absent father and aching heart because of it — not to mention one of the sourest best friends I’ve read in a long time in Chloe — and Kathryn’s challenged by money problems and the fact her only true friend is Matt. As readers, we get to see both sides of the story and understand why each girl envies the other and why neither is truly a mean girl or one without intention.

Any story focused on the idea of a competition has high stakes at play, and this one is no different. I’ll be honest in saying I was a little let down in the competition aspects; I would have loved more detail on the singing, the music, and the fierce vocal battling required to be a stand out singer. But really, this isn’t a story about the competition. It’s a story about Brooke and Kathryn coming to terms with the big rift that occurred between them. There is huge build up to this through the story, and it’s not until more than half way through we find out what caused the two of them to go at odds. And it has to do with both girls’ insecurities. I wasn’t as impressed with this as I wanted to be, but this leads me to my other big point in this story — voice.

Kathryn and Brooke might be some of the more realistic high schoolers I’ve read. Their dialogue, their rivalry, their interactions, and sheer insecurities mixed with their passion in social and artistic endeavors clicked. I know these girls working with teens today, and I knew these girls when I was a teen myself. So, despite being a little let down in what the big deal was that caused the two of them to be at war with one another, it’s extremely realistic and honest. Most readers won’t think twice about it because it’s an easy buy. It makes sense.

Something that resonated with me as a reader and made me so sympathetic toward Brooke were her father issues. I don’t feel like many books do a great job of capturing what it’s like to be the daughter of an absent, too-busy-for-you father; fortunately, I think Bennett-Wealer nailed it. I wish stuff like this had been there for me when I was younger. While it’s not the big part of the story, for those who are dealing with issues like this, Brooke’s emotional highs and lows and the conclusion she reaches at the end of the story will really resonate. It is extremely realistic and not once overdone, despite the fact it could have been, given her father’s career.

For fans of romance in their stories, there is a bit in Rival, but I appreciated this wasn’t really what the girls fought over. I almost could have done without it, but because of the book’s audience, I understand why it’s there. And boy, here’s another book where a guy best friend turns out to be the best kind of friend one can ask for. Matt gets crapped on and still stands by Kathryn’s side, and how I really loved him because of it. He’s a great secondary character and one I wouldn’t have minded even more of throughout the story.

Pass Rival on to fans of shows like Glee, but I think this book would go over quite well with those who enjoy Sarah Dessen or Elizabeth Scott. Sure, there’s the “mean girl” and “revenge” aspects to this story that don’t come out in Dessen or Scott, but the voices here will match quite well. I’d love to see this one read alongside Caridad Ferrer’s When the Stars Go Blue, too, if for no other reason than the heightened emotions and experiences that come through fierce artistic competition and pressure. Another interesting read with this one would be Siobhan Vivian’s Same Difference for the issues of friendship, competition, and the arts. I don’t necessarily think this is the strongest read alike to Pretty Little Liars, to which it’s drawn many comparisons. But try it — you might win over readers to stronger, less melodramatic contemporary.