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Nocturnal Book Reviews

Blogging at Nocturnal Book Reviews since May 2011 about steampunk, urban fantasy, historical & paranormal fiction, contemporary, fantasy, sci-fi & erotica.

The Diviners

The Diviners - Libba Bray Yet again I bow down before Libba Bray's enormous talent. I haven't read a single book of hers that would have left me disappointed, and I honestly don't think it's ever going to happen...

The Diviners starts a tad slow but soon enough you immerse yourself in an absolutely enchanting, boisterous and vivid atmosphere of roaring 20s.

The book starts with a combination of main characters living their separate lives: Evie, cheeky and bold 17-year old arrives to new York to live with her uncle, who owns the museum of Creepy Crawlies (or Folk Art and Superstitions); Sam, a young thief tries to save enough money to find his mother; Memphis supports his younger brother by running numbers for his clients; Theta and Henry live the fabulous artsy life of Ziegfried theatre pretending to be a brother and sister; and quiet and studious Jericho works for Evie's uncle, Will.

These young people don't realise that a supernatural storm is brewing, and the unique abilities they have is the only thing that can help them survive and save people they love. In that regard The Diviners is only the first act of the play which lays ground for the events that will be unfolding in the next book.

Evie's uncle starts helping New York's police with the investigation of gruesome occult murders, and the more he digs into it the clearer it becomes that if the murderer is not stopped in time, he'll bring on the Apocalypse.

Essentially it's the murderer who connects the young supernaturally talented people and forces them to work together, and the plot itself is intricate, complex and fascinating.

However, it's the atmosphere, the carefully researched spirit of time, the slang of young carefree generation that ultimately wins the reader over. It's gorgeous and and it brings 1920s alive before our eyes.


QUOTE: “What Evie needed was a little hair of the dog, but her parents had confiscated her hip flask. It was a swell flask, too—silver, with the initials of Charles Warren etched into it. Good old Charlie, the dear. She’d promised to be his girl. That lasted a week. Charlie was a darling, but also a thudding bore. His idea of petting was to place a hand stiffly on a girl’s chest like a starched doily on some maiden aunt’s side table while pecking, birdlike, at her mouth. Quelle tragédie.” END QUOTE


QUOTE: “Theta crashed next to them on the thick zebra-skin rug. “I’m embalmed.”

“Potted and splificated?”

“Ossified to the gills. Time for night-night.” END QUOTE


QUOTE: “Hey,” the cabbie yelled. “How’s about a tip?”

“You bet-ski,” Evie said, heading toward the old Victorian mansion, her long silk scarf trailing behind her. “Don’t kiss strange men in Penn Station.” END QUOTE


I'd better stop now, peeps. There are just too many wonderful things about this book which I want you to discover for yourself. So, borrow it from your library, buy it, depending on what you can afford (I know hardback price was a bit steep for me, so I've waited for my library to get it), but don't miss out on this book, because it's well worth your attention.