Name: Wrayth
ISBN: 9781937007751

Philippa Ballantine

Still unable to move or speak after her last battle, Sorcha Faris, one of the most powerful Deacons in the Order, is kidnapped by men seeking the shapeshifting rival to the throne, while Merrick Chambers, Sorcha's partner, must decide where his loyalties lie. Original.

Wrayth

Sarah Escorsa

This book is so abysmally crappy that it killed Little One's Kindle as we were buddy reading it. I kid you not. Now that is some very hazardous reading material right there. That being said, it seems losing her beloved Kindle wasn't too traumatizing for the dear girl since she still managed to write the bestest review ever for this PoC™. You might want to go and check it out, by the way. It's much more informative and to-the-point and articulate than any of my crappy non reviews will ever be. But hey, if you're energetically masochistic and have nothing better to do with your life, please do stick around for some High Quality and Beautifully Never Ending Sub-Par Rambling Nonsense (HQaBNESPRN™).

Soooooo, Wrayth. What a most delightful, delectable masterpiece. It's not everyday you read such wonderfully written, satisfying, thrilling, consistent, clever piece of bullshit literature. No it's not. Thank fish for that.

Let's see, where to begin? There are so many stupendously wondrous things to talk about here! The possibilities are quite endless indeed! 



Sorry for the interruption, I have no idea where the fish this thing came from. The Evil Russians™ must have hacked my account again.

Okay, where were we? Oh, yes, endless possibilities and stuff. Let's start with the stunningly wonderful writing, shall we? Wait, we need to light some candles to set the romantic atmosphere first.



Love is now officially 🎶 in the air 🎶, so let's shake that booty do this and stuff.

Saying this book is badly written would be the understatement of the last 10,000 years. At least. I mean, it's so bloody shrimping clunky, it kind of feels like it's been written by a hyperactive 12-year-old barnacle on meth or something. What is worse, I wonder? The incoherent inconsistencies? The inconsistent incoherences? The homicidal gibberish? The sentences that make no bloody shrimping sense, even to superior Mensa little heads like mine? The most disjointed, jumbled mess of a plot in the history of most disjointed, jumbled messes of plots, maybe? Then again it could be the Blah Blah Blah Me To Death Ms Ballantine Why Don't You Factor (BBBMTDMBWDYF™). Reading this 319-page book sort of feels like going through an overly descriptive 700-page Epic Fantasy so, yeah, I'd say this one is a sure contender in the renowned Will This Crap Never End Award (WTCNEA™). Congratulations, Ms. B., for this is quite the achievement and stuff.



Let's see, what else? Oh yes, this book features some of the most refreshingly enjoyable repetitions ever. Such delectable joy and felicity they brought me while I was reading. Nothing beats the 133 occurrences of  "however," of course, but I must admit I have a weakness for the 43 spasmodic manifestations of "peon." Ah, "peon," such an admirably pleasing word. I think I could never tire of reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. And reading it. Sorry, what? You get the idea? Clever, clever Little Barnacles. Oh, before I forget, there is one more thing I wanted to mention here: I'm not sure you are aware of it, but I'm not the lawsuit type (view spoiler)[
  we nefarious overlords have a more, um, subtle approach when it comes to resolving silly disputes
 (hide spoiler)]. Yes, there is actually a point to my mentioning this most fascinating fact. Because you see, my Little Barnacles, it just so happens that I'm going to sue the fish out of Ms Ballantine for vocable discrimination. "Why," you ask? Because there are only 11 occurrences of the word "cunning" in this book! 11! When there are, as you may remember, 43 bloody stinking "peons!" Since when do pathetically puny peons take precedence over glorious cunningness?! That is completely unacceptable! This cannot be! This will not do! The Slightly Malevolent Subaquatic League (SMSL™) demands an explanation! 



I hear ya, Fleet Admiral DaShrimp!

Am I making it sound like this book was a little disastrous? Oh, you know me, I tend to slightly over-exaggerate a tiny little bit. Sometimes. Really, this book wasn't THAT bad. And to be honest, it could have been much worse. I mean, characterization could have been catastrophically calamitous. And some characters could have acted so illogically and stupidly and inconsistently and incoherently and exasperatingly as to make me think they'd had a personality transplant between this instalment and the previous one. Lucky for me, this didn't happen here. And I never, not for a single moment, felt like chopping one some of the characters into teensy little pieces and feeding him them to the murderous crustaceans. Absolutely not. This did NOT happen here. Nope nope nope. 



Don't ask.

You know why I feel really blessed here? Because not only could this have been much worse, it could have been much MUCH worse, too. Oh yes, it most definitely could have. The author could have sprinkled the story with some historical romance type crap, for instance. Now that would have been slightly traumatic. Pretty sure I wouldn't have survived that. And what if she had decided to infect her whole narrative with gloriously fascinating (albeit a little repetitive) facts about relationships, sex and marriage within a certain community? Oh, that would have been slightly annoying indeed. And I'm not sure how I would have fared if she had embellished her story with ridiculously stupid, corny romantic stuff. Especially if said stuff had been inserted in the story at the most inconveniently ill-chosen awkward times, either. Like, say, in a middle of a big fight, or when the MCs were somewhat busy running for their lives and stuff. But Ms Ballantine wouldn't do that. Of course not. Don't be silly now. Actually, you know what? NOT doing all these 💀💣 things 💣💀 is such an accomplishment that you should all join me in congratulating Ms B. for a job most excellently done. 

 

➽ And the moral of this Oh So This is What Shrimpawful Writing of Utter Doom and Total Destruction of all Life on this Planet is Like Crappy Non Review (OTiWSWoUDaTDoaLotPiLCNR™) is: Geist wasn't overwhelmingly catastrophic. Spectyr was quite unexpectedly pretty good and stuff. Ergo, Philippa Ballantine got abducted by the same aliens who kidnapped my Geralt just before writing this book, and was replaced by a bipolar, under-educated, overly inebriated unearthly creature who doesn't speak a word of English. QED and stuff.

· Book 1: Geist ★★★
· Book 2: Spectyr ★★★★
· Book 4: Harbinger - NOT to be read. I'm not that suicidal, thank you very much.



[Pre-review nonsense]

Missing: Philippa Ballantine, author of the Book of the Order series.

Age: who the fish knows or cares?

Physical description: puny human.

Last seen: in the final and slightly awesome chapter of the slightly awesome book called Spectyr.

If you have any information about this not-so-terribly-upsetting disappearance, please do not, under any circumstance call either Fleet Admiral DaShrimp or my little nefarious self. 

Reward: a serrated pincer fiesta of doom and destruction, courtesy of my murderous children.

All help in this most nonessential distressing matter will be greatly appreciated. The MacHalos are most unwilling anxious to read the last instalment in this series, and would love to have their, um, beloved author NOT returned to them posthaste. Thank thee kindly. 





➽ Full Bloody Stinking Fish Way to Ruin a Perfectly Entertaining Series Philippa Ballantine Crappy Non Review (BSFWtRaPASPBCNR™) to come.

Wrayth

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