Saturday, June 29, 2013

Owlet (Society of Feathers #1) by Emma Michaels




Somewhere between falling and flying… there is a girl.


Iris has a secret. She lost her memory eight years ago and never told a living soul. After an asthma attack one night she finds out that her dreams of a strange house on a snowy island may be a memory resurfacing but the more she learns about the past the more she realizes the life she has been living is a lie. As the façade her father has built starts to crumble around her she will have to decide which means more to her; the truth or her life.




Owlet is an intriguing and unique story.  Iris, a young girl, whom's asthma limits her physically, doesn't remember much of her life.  She keeps having vivid dreams though of an island, a boy and the fragments don't make a lot of sense to her until her caretaker takes her to an island after a particularly bad asthma attack.

There, Iris realizes that the island is from her dreams, as well as the boy she meets, Falcon.  Iris also always has a voice talking in her head.  Sometimes she follows that voice and sometimes she goes with her gut.  It doesn't quite make sense at first, and I just kept turning the pages, figuring the voice was much like her conscience.

But then, when Iris is on the island, more fragments of her past become reality as she begins to learn the truth and the conscience voice isn't that at all, but something other... something fowl. A quick, riveting read, Owlet is a beautifully spun tale. While I found Iris to be innocent and empathized with her plight, her physical limitations shouldn't have limited her social. While she does bloom toward the end of the story, I wish she had been more true to her age at the beginning. All in all, a satisfactory read that young teens may enjoy.


*I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

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The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.

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