When Griffin hopped into the Escalade, he thought he’d just made the steal of a lifetime. Who leaves the keys to their expensive SUV in the car while they’re in the store? But when Griffin hears the shuffling around in the back seat and sees the face of 16-year-old Cheyenne Wilder staring back at him, he realizes he’s in a heck of a lot more trouble than he could even imagine.

Until he learns that Cheyenne is blind and cannot see who has taken her and the car far away from her step mother, her father (who just happens to be a big wig at Nike), and the shopping center where her step mother was picking up the medicine Cheyenne sorely needed to combat the pneumonia plaguing her.

April Henry’s Girl, Stolen reminded me a lot of the Janie series by Caroline B. Cooney, if for no other reason than the missing girl aspect. This was a very fast paced read, with alternating perspectives in each chapter. Although this technique is jarring at first since it’s not entirely clear who is narrating at first, it becomes clearer and clearer throughout the story and ultimately becomes what makes this story work so well. We get to see how Cheyenne manages to use her other senses to figure out where she is and who her captors are and we get to see Griffin and his family come to terms with what has happened.

Griffin as a character is much more complex than I initially gave him credit for. While he struck me as the guy after an easy steal, the story unravels such that Griffin is actually a product of an unfortunate upbringing, and he feels absolutely terrible for what he’s done to Cheyenne. His father and brother, on the other hand, are content in torturing the girl; Griffin instead feels horrible and does what he can to make the worst situation easier for Cheyenne. Where his father and brother are dead set on milking the accidental abduction as a kidnapping for ransom, Griffin is instead interested in just getting Cheyenne back to her family safely so she can get the medicine she needs to feel better. He doesn’t want the blood on his hands.

Cheyenne’s perspective was just as compelling for me. As readers, we know she’s blind, and we know through the reading that she relies heavily on her other senses to gauge where she is. Where Griffin’s family thinks she’s also deaf, it’s ultimately her superior hearing skills and her memory that aids in her figuring out where she is and the names of those holding her hostage.

April Henry’s newest title will appeal to fans of fast paced, realistic reads. This is the kind of book I’d hand to fans of Caroline B. Cooney, as well as those who like stories about those with disabilities. Cheyenne’s a strong willed character with a desire to survive, and I think she’s quite an inspiring character at that. The modern setting will appeal, too, to readers who are interested in the real stories that play out like this every day. Although the last chapter of this book was quite disappointing for me, as it felt quite rushed and a little out of the blue for this title, the book itself had just enough happenstance to feel quite realistic. There’s a little bit in the way of language and situations involving violence, so it’s probably best a read for older middle school and high school students.

* Review copy picked up at the PLA conference.

Ames knows something strange is going on with her father when he becomes quieter and quieter every night and when her mother begins criticizing him more and more. When he spills that he’s lost his job, she’s disappointed, but she knows there’s something even deeper going on, and it’s not until a big blow out with her short fused and wicked mother does the truth come out.

This truth has ruined their once rich and lavish lifestyle. Ames and Chrissy can no longer go to their private school in Boulder. Then they’re going to lose their home. But where will they go? Mom doesn’t get along with her mother (who is living lavishly in a communiy for elderly residents only) and dad’s mother and father have been dead for a long time . . . or have they? The truth spills out when they are immediately yanked from Colorado to just outside Houston, Texas to a trailer park owned by dad’s parents who are in fact NOT dead. What else have Ames’s parents been hiding?

As if that wasn’t bad enough, they have one mattress to share among the four of them, and they have to do all of the rehabbing of the trailer. Ames will be the hard laborer, no doubt, but perhaps it won’t be as bad as it seems when she meets Marc, one of the boys who is helping fix up the trailer park. He seems cute, a little rough (like Ames likes), and something that her parents would utterly disapprove of. She wants it.

But she might regret that decision when the fate of her sister lies at his hands.

Dark Song is the latest release by well-known thriller/mystery writer Gail Giles. This fast-paced story begins in what seems to be the ideal setting amid wealth and power and quickly moves into the world of poverty, crime, and instability. Her signature staccato style doesn’t allow for as much character development as I’d have liked in this particular novel, but this is the kind of book that will draw in reluctant and weak readers with no problem. There is an exciting premise, and though I wanted more details and more of a realistic time frame, these are going to be the exact things that work for other readers. They want to get to the meat of the story and will have no problem with it here.

Ames is not a likable character, but compared to her mother, she is a saint. Ames’s mother is a downright wicked witch, despicable in every manner possible. And while we are immediately introduced to a likable father — the beginning pages start with a family vacation to Alaska out of the blue — we learn that dad may be an even more disgusting person than mother, but because this story is told through Ames’s perspective, we are never quite allowed to get that feeling in the same way we do with her mother. I wanted to hate her father more than I did, but Giles’s skill in developing Ames’s biases in the story did not allow me to. I think this is a good thing, too, as I would have had a different feeling about the outcome of events at the very end of the book had I hated her father more.

One thing that bothered me is the last line of the book. I won’t spill it for those who want to go in unaware, but it didn’t quite make sense to me in context of the book, though it did make me question my beliefs about Ames in the story. Because she’s not as developed as she could be, I didn’t buy her self assessment, unless it was in regards to her relationship with Marc. Even then, I needed to see more of who she became because of him, which I also didn’t get.

Dark Song is an easy sell to reluctant readers, fans of fast-paced thrillers, and both males and females. Although Ames is a female lead character, she will work for male readers. Fans of Ellen Hopkins will find a lot to enjoy with Gail Giles’s new title, as well. Although this title won’t work for hard core mystery readers, fans of lighter mysteries will enjoy the secrets embedded in this family and will find the unraveling of the truth something to relish.

*Review copy picked up at BEA.

If you were to combine the romantic elements of Stephenie Meyers’ Twilight with the woodsy setting and werewolf lore of Maggie Steifvater’s Shiver, you would have the basic set up for Ivy Devlin’s quick read, Low Red Moon.

Avery Hood’s story begins when she recalls the murder of her mother and her father, blood lingering between her fingers. But their deaths were not at her hands; instead, she happened to stumble upon their bloody bodies and has no where to turn. She’s been in the woods, collecting edible herbs for dinner when the atrocity happened.

Now parentless, Avery must live with her grandmother, a strange lady that had been essentially cut off from her and her parents. There’d been family drama here, but it was live with her grandmother or be sent to foster care, and at least by living with her grandmother, Avery could stay at the school where people already knew she was “the weird girl.”Along with the family drama comes the fact that Avery is repeatedly asked what she remembers about the night of her parents’ murders from the local police chief and her constant fear that her childhood home would be taken or sold by an overeager realtor who has been aching to change the strange woods into something more profitable.

Enter Ben: a new boy at school who just happens to be a little different. Think Edward-meets-Bella scenario here — there’s repulsion and magnetism, and the little ol’ secret that Ben is really a werewolf. As the year progresses, Ben and Avery will grow closer and closer to one another, and Avery will have to come face-to-face with the murder as she puts together the memories she’s suppressed from that fateful night.

While Low Red Moon tread little new territory in the paranormal romance genre, the quickly paced, short book worked quite well for me. I had just enough character development of Avery Hood (and with a name like that of a girl who lives in the woods!), Ben, Avery’s estranged grandmother, and the local police chief. Although I found the ending entirely predictable, it was a little twist on the usual fare, which I also appreciated.

Ivy Devlin, as many savvy young adult readers know, is the pseudonym of a well-known ya author. This is her first foray into paranormal romance, and I think that she does a pretty good job. One of the elements that bothers me about her realistic fiction — girls who are sometimes too dependent on male counterparts for their personalities and their emotional stability — still plays out here, but it didn’t annoy me quite as much as it normally does. I felt Avery had enough of a history on her own, despite having nearly no hobbies or interests other than Ben and solving her parents murder. I guess we can forgive her for being a little distracted from typical teenage interests.

This book moves along at a nice clip, making it an appropriate choice for those who may be new to the paranormal romance genre. Although it is quite reminiscent of both Twilight and Shiver, Devlin combines the best elements of both story lines and still adds just enough mystery to make this one stand out a bit among the forest of similar titles. And while there is a murder and a burgeoning romance in this title, it is easily appropriate for those 12 and older. Adults looking for a glimpse into what their kids are reading but who aren’t interested in investing too much time would find this a nice glimpse into the world of paranormal romance.

Want your own copy of this title? Fill out the form, and we’ll pick a winner at the end of September. Good luck!

* Review copy received as part of the Low Red Moon tour, hosted by Center Stage Book Tours.

If you remember my top picks of 2009, Natalie Standiford’s How to Say Goodbye in Robot made the cut. When I heard she had a new book coming out — this time dealing with a strange rich family — I went in prepared for a little quirkiness and a few laughs. I was not disappointed.

Confessions of the Sullivan Sisters begins when Almighty, the matriarch of the Sullivan family, declares to her descendants that one of them has done something so terrible that she doesn’t think she can keep the family in her will any longer. When shock ripples through the Sullivans, the Almighty suggests a solution: if the trouble maker comes forth and comes clean about her poor choices, then perhaps the money can be reinstated.

Standiford’s book is broken into 5 sections. The first and last are from the Almighty’s perspective, but the three in the middle are told from the three Sullivan sisters perspectives. They’re admitting to the horrible things that they have done causing shame to the family in hopes of being put back into the will.

Norrie makes her admission first, which revolves around a cotillion ball and her lack of interest in the man with whom she was set up for the ball. Jane takes stage next, admitting to running a blog that exploits the crazy in her family for a readership — it’s through her stories we learn just how crazy the Almighty really is. And finally, we have Sassy who admits to killing her grandfather (the Almighty’s most recent husband). After reading these three stories, it seemed obvious why the Almighty was embarrassed by her grandchildren. But oh, the excellent twist at the end left me in stitches laughing.

Confessions of the Sullivan Sisters is set up smartly. As a reader, I didn’t want to put the book down until I made my way through the entirety of one sister’s confession. Likewise, while the stories intertwined (as you’d expect), they stand alone, as well. Norrie’s story is the lengthiest, but it is her story that helps give the “horror” behind Jane’s make sense, and it also gives context to why Sassy is responsible for the death of her grandfather.

Each of the girls’ stories are well developed and each has their own distinct voices. They’re also downright hilarious: this is one crazy family, and Standiford pulls out all the stops to make these girls absolutely ridiculous. Of course, that’s all in context to the Almighty, the ringleader of the crazy circus going on.

This is a well-paced and plotted story, thanks in part to being set up in three distinct parts. The bookends give the story its context, but the three stories could be read alone and still make sense. Throughout the stories, I kept wondering how they would have amounted to the Almighty’s utter disappointment; in the end, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that what I had thought to be the truth was incorrect. I got a complete surprise, and I felt like the sisters themselves. Quite frankly, this change of pace fit with the story and the characters much better, and I think readers familiar with Standiford’s style or readers who pick up on the quirky factor here will dig the end a lot.

As I’ve mentioned a couple of times, this is a book to hand to readers who like humor, quirkiness, and a little irony in their books. Fans of Standiford’s first novel will love this, as will readers who dislike books about being rich and privileged: this goes against everything those books offer, despite being a story about a rich family. Throughout the book there are a number of literary allusions and plays upon classic tales (including Shakespeare’s A Winter’s Tale and King Lear and the story of Joan of Arc) that will please many readers, and I think fans of Libba Bray’s signature humor will find a lot to enjoy here, though Standiford’s style is a little more grounded.

* Review copy received from the publisher. Thanks!