Cassel comes from a shady, magical family of con artists and grifters. He doesn’t fit in at home or at school, so he’s used to feeling like an outsider. He’s also used to feeling guilty; he killed his best friend, Lila, years ago.
But when Cassel begins to have strange dreams about a white cat, and people around him are losing their memories, he starts to wonder what really happened to Lila. In his search for answers, he discovers a wicked plot for power that seems certain to succeed. But Cassel has other ideas and a plan to con the conmen.(Synopsis taken from Goodreads)
So, most of you know that I adore everything I’ve read by Holly Black (Coldest Girl in Coldtown, The Darkest Part of the Forest, Doll Bones, and now, White Cat). And in this book, Holly Black managed to mix modern America, magic, and weirdness. No one does weird like Holly Black.
Cassel comes from a family of curse workers, people that can work magic through skin-to-skin contact. He’s strangely likeable, despite killing his best (and only) friend, Lila, years ago. He’s sarcastic and feels insignificant, and doesn’t trust anyone in his family (for very obvious reasons). Cassel is also the only one in his family that isn’t a worker, making him the odd one out. And yet he still loves his family, and desperately wants his brothers to accept him, even though for years they’ve just shoved him away, viewing him as no better than a piece of trash.
And the cats. I spent the first little bit of the book wondering why the cats were acting so weird. NOW I KNOW. And let me tell you, it is dark and it is perfect.
This book is full of crime and snarky characters and magic mafia. Which sounds weird when I read it like that, but trust me, it’s perfect for the book. The book is edgy and dark and heartbreaking and weird.
Never forget the weird.
Four and a half stars.
I have had an…interesting…week. I finished season two of Supernatural (and now have the oddest urge to carry salt with me everywhere). It might not be my favorite show in the world, but I can see why it’s one of the Big Three.
Also, a slightly more scary thing happened.
Our neighbors got into a fight, guns were involved, and our window got shot. It went through our screen, two panes of glass, through the kitchen, through the family room, through the wall, and ended up in Mom’s bedroom. They’ve been horrible neighbors (loud parties, letting their yard get all overgrown, blasting their radios at 3:00AM, but this was the final straw. They’re renting, and we want them out.
On a cuter note, we found baby raccoons in our detached garage. We don’t have a picture (they’re in a weird spot and they were moving around too much), but I can promise, they are adorable.
Why are the cutest wild animals the meanest? Why.