CD Giveaway - 33Miles, "One Life"
Ends Aug 4, 2010
The country-pop sound established in their eponymous debut is a mainstay for this album as well, and even adds a little more southern flavor.
CD Giveaway - Phil Wickham, "Cannons"
Ends Aug 3, 2010
With an opening shot that hits the sonic pinnacle, this collection of spiritual Brit pop/rock is heavily influenced by Keane, Travis, Coldplay, and U2.
Publication Date: March 27, 2007 Publisher: Margaret K. McElderry Author: · Cassandra Clare Related Sites: ·Author's Website
Grade: A+
Clary Fray is a typical fifteen-year-old New York kid. But her life of being normal ends the night she and her best friend Simon enter a downtown nightclub, where she witnesses a murder. But despite all the other people around, she's the only one who can see what's happening -- three teenagers cornering a fourth, a fourth who begins to defend himself in some decidedly un-humanlike ways!
Convinced she isn't crazy, Clary soon has another encounter with the leader of the three youths, an angelicly handsome fellow named Jace. Once again, no one seems to notice him except for Clary. She follows him, and learns exactly what Jace is, and what kind of world he -- and now, she -- inhabits:
"Because you know the truth now," Jace said. "There hasn't been a mundane who knew about us for at least a hundred years."
"About us?" she echoed. "You mean people like you. People who believe in demons."
"People who kill them," said Jace. "We're called Shadowhunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us."
"Downworlders?"
"The Night Children. Warlocks. The fey. The magical folk of this dimension."
Clary shook her head. "Don't stop there. I suppose there are also, what, vampires and werewolves and zombies?"
"Of course there are," Jace informed her. "Although you mostly find zombies farther south, where the voudun priests are."
"What about mummies? Do they only hang around Egypt?"
"Don't be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies."
Over the course of the adventure, Clary and Simon manage to meet just about every type of Downworlder, all without leaving New York. But before that, Clary still has a lot to learn about the Shadowhunters. At an abandoned church Jace calls "The Institute", Clary is reintroduced to the other two youths from the night at the club -- brother and sister Alec and Isabelle -- and their adult mentor, the bookish Hodge, from whom Clary gets a bit more information on what a Shadowhunter is. This is also where the author introduces the readers to the first of the Mortal Instruments that give the trilogy its arc title.
"So what are you Shadowhunters?"
"We are sometimes called the Nephilim," said Hodge. "In the Bible they were the offspring of humans and angels. The legend of the origin of Shadowhunters is that they were created more than a thousand years ago, when humans were being overrun by demon invasions from other worlds. A warlock summoned the Angel Raziel, who mixed some of his own blood with the blood of men in a cup, and gave it to those men to drink. Those who drank the Angel's blood became Shadowhunters, as did their children and their children's children. The cup thereafter was known as the Mortal Cup. Though the legend may not be fact, what is true is that through the years, when Shadowhunter ranks were depleted, it was always possible to create more Shadowhunters using the Cup."
"Was always possible?"
"The Cup is gone," said Hodge. "Destroyed by Valentine, just before he died. He set a great fire and burned himself to death along with his family, his wife, and his child. Scorched the land black. No one will build there still. They say the land is cursed."
The Mortal Cup is what kicks off this whole adventure,actually, as Clary learns her mother has had a secret connection to the Shadowhunters all her life -- and to one Shadowhunter in particular named Valentine. Valentine has a rather purist view of the way things should be. Not content to fight the demons, he wants to make the world one of purity for humans, and that involves getting rid of all the Downworlders, whether they've signed the Accords with the Shadowhunters or not. With the Mortal Cup, he can build an army of Shadowhunters from ordinary humans. And although the Cup has been deemed lost, it was last seen in the hands of Jocelyn Fray: Clary's mother.
What follows is a non-stop action novel that blends magic with humor, romance with vengeance, resulting in an irresistable labyrinthine tale of rich and (seemingly) infinite subplots. Characters switch sides, then switch again, and points of view get skewed partway through, leaving the reader wondering just what the true story is and who Clary should trust.
Motorcycle vampire gangs, a hard-partying Warlock, and street-packs of werewolves -- not to mention some horrific creatures all Clare's own invention -- find their way into the story, bringing both aid and hindrance. Weaving elements of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Supernatural with Holly Black's modern faery stories, the author has crafted a new classic of contemporary fantasy that is going to have readers tearing up the Internet with discussion, and has raised the bar for other writers in the genre.
Speaking of Miss Black's modern faery stories, the sharp-eyed reader won't miss a passing bit of scenery, which finds Clary and Jace traveling through downtown New York in a glamored carriage, a scene where a couple of familiar faces from Valiant toss us a quick smile:
Jace wasn't looking at her, so Clary let her voice trail off. They were rolling through Astor Place now, narrowly dodging a purple New York University tram as it cut through traffic. Passing pedestrians looked crushed by the heavy air, like insects pinned under glass. Some groups of homeless kids were crowded around the base of a big brass statue, folded cardboard signs asking for money propped up in front of them. Clary saw a girl about her own age with a smoothly shaved bald head leaning against a brown-skinned boy with dreadlocks, his face adorned with a dozen piercings. He turned his head as the carriage rolled by as if he could see it, and she caught the gleam of his eyes. One of them was clouded as though it had no pupil.
I get more books than I can handle in my job; most of them make their way to family or libraries once I've finished them. City of Bones lands in a specially reserved area, a cut above the rest, earning a spot in my personal library. It is a book I look forward to rereading almost as much as I anticipate the next chapter in this mythological urban landscape.
