Mondays with Meghan: Shiver

Meghan: *peeks in room to make sure the boys aren't there, quickly darts in and locks door*


Grimalkin: *yawn* What are you doing?


Meghan: I want to do my book review thing, but I'm tired of hearing the boys argue over my shoulder everytime I do. I want some peace and quiet for a change.


Grimalkin: Mm. You do realize that a locked door only assures Goodfellow will come knocking on it, right? It sends out a Siren Call to his little pesterer brain, telling him there is someone who is trying to keep him out of someplace. You should hear from him in three ... two ... one ...


Puck: *pounding on door* Hey, why is this door locked? Meghan, are you in there? Hellooooooooooo?


Meghan; *groans* Great. Well, this will have to be quick.



Review: Shiver










For years, Grace has watched the wolves in the woods behind her house. One yellow-eyed wolf--her wolf--is a chilling presence she can't seem to live without. Meanwhile, Sam has lived two lives: In winter, the frozen woods, the protection of the pack, and the silent company of a fearless girl. In summer, a few precious months of being human. Until the cold makes him shift back again. Now, Grace meets a yellow-eyed boy whose familiarity takes her breath away. It's her wolf. It has to be. But as winter nears, Sam must fight to stay human--or risk losing himself, and Grace, forever.



If there's a word to describe Shiver, it would be "haunting." Maggie's writing is eerie, moving, and lyrical, from the first time you lay eyes on the great wolf in the woods, to the love that develops between Sam and Grace, to their desperate struggle to keep Sam from losing himself to the cold. This is a story that twists your gut, fills you with longing, makes your throat tighten as you realize Sam is slowly slipping away, into a world where Grace cannot follow. Above all else, this is a love story, one that resonates long after you read the final line, and close the book in a daze.


Final word. I loved it. It makes me want to stand on the back deck in the snow, feeling the wind cut into my jacket, searching for a flash of feirce golden eyes.



Grimalkin: *perching on back of chair.* Very touching. My eyes are golden, you know.


Meghan: Yeah, but you're a cat, not a wolf.


Grimalkin: And everyday I am thankful for that small favor. Now, perhaps you should unlock the door before--


*crash!*


Grimalkin: Too late.