You know these girls. They’re the Wyrd sisters, the strange kids, the ones other children at school whisper about when they think they can get away with it. They may be wildly popular with the wrong crowd or they’re bullied, harassed or left alone.
Vivi, Grey and Iris are just these girls. Vivi and Grey embrace their weirdness, which happened after a mysterious disappearance and reappearance. None of the three sisters remember what happened to them. But something did.
Are they changelings? Were they snatched away by fairies and replaced with unconvincing doppelgangers? They’re so very different from before they disappeared. Two of the sisters are fine with their differences. One of them is a walking femme fatale, hot, sexy, mysteriously potent and carefree about her beauty and the other defiantly messes up her looks with piercings, sneerings and a shaved head. But they draw people to them somehow and that magnetic pull is something the author makes us feel. We the readers are also drawn to these sensuous yet baffling women, reminding us of the hypnotic lure of powerful looks. Ah qual poter, oh Dei, donaste alla belta.
Iris is perhaps the middle child and falls between her sisters in terms of beauty. She doesn’t want to be seen or noticed but neither does she crave a loner’s life. The eldritch nature of the disappearance and reappearance has followed her all her life, crushing any chance she has of making friends in school and persisting in bizarre rumors for years after the bizarre incident. It’s like a stain that doesn’t wash out.
The oddity of this novel gets stronger with every page, like a rotten stench that grows with the heat. It may presage something dreadful or simply mean that a dead beast is clogging up the pipes. Either way, it needs to be seen to, no matter how grisly the outcome.
Vivi, Grey and Iris are just these girls. Vivi and Grey embrace their weirdness, which happened after a mysterious disappearance and reappearance. None of the three sisters remember what happened to them. But something did.
Are they changelings? Were they snatched away by fairies and replaced with unconvincing doppelgangers? They’re so very different from before they disappeared. Two of the sisters are fine with their differences. One of them is a walking femme fatale, hot, sexy, mysteriously potent and carefree about her beauty and the other defiantly messes up her looks with piercings, sneerings and a shaved head. But they draw people to them somehow and that magnetic pull is something the author makes us feel. We the readers are also drawn to these sensuous yet baffling women, reminding us of the hypnotic lure of powerful looks. Ah qual poter, oh Dei, donaste alla belta.
Iris is perhaps the middle child and falls between her sisters in terms of beauty. She doesn’t want to be seen or noticed but neither does she crave a loner’s life. The eldritch nature of the disappearance and reappearance has followed her all her life, crushing any chance she has of making friends in school and persisting in bizarre rumors for years after the bizarre incident. It’s like a stain that doesn’t wash out.
The oddity of this novel gets stronger with every page, like a rotten stench that grows with the heat. It may presage something dreadful or simply mean that a dead beast is clogging up the pipes. Either way, it needs to be seen to, no matter how grisly the outcome.