Imps, brownies, satyrs, naiads, fairies, blixes, even a golem, oh my! When 14-year-old Kendra Sorenson and her 11-year-old brother Seth arrive at their grandparents' estate, they have no idea that its grounds teem with mystical creatures. All they see is a sprawling mansion with no t.v. or Internet where they will have to stave off boredom while their parents live it up on a 17-day Scandinavian cruise. At least they can jump in the swimming pool or explore the lush, butterfly-filled gardens. Grandpa Sorenson has warned them away from the forest that rings the house, but his explanation seems fishy - ticks? For real? It's almost as if there's something else living in the woods. Something ... magical.

Always obedient, Kendra resigns herself to two weeks of painting, sunning herself by the pool, and trying to solve the puzzle her grandfather left for her. Leave it to foolhardy Seth to plunge right into the one place they're not supposed to go - the woods. His bumbling leads to a shocking discovery: Grandpa and Grandma Sorenson are the caretakers of Fablehaven, a sanctuary for magical beings. Residents of the preserve range from resourceful brownies to playful satyrs to bloodthirsty demons. Grandpa's restrictions are still in place: wandering through the place can be dangerous, if not deadly. Still, it's a land full of wonders. And secrets. Like, what's in the barn? Why do they have to stay hidden on Midsummer's Eve? And, where's Grandma Sorenson?

All the excitement becomes a little too much for Seth, a boy not known for his inhibition. One false step and he manages to unleash an ancient evil into the relative peace of Fablehaven. The centuries-old laws which keep it all in check have been broken. Danger lurks around every corner in a place where spiteful fairies use powerful spells to exact revenge, naiads lure unsuspecting visitors to their watery graves, and something as harmless as a wooden puppet can become a most terrifying foe. Now, the fate of Fablehaven, its caretakers, and every one of its dwellers is in the hands of two children. Kendra's never cared much for adventure; Seth likes it a little too much - can the pair of them rally enough courage and common sense to save the preserve, themselves and, quite possibly, the world? Or will they, too, become victims of the horrors that roam the grounds of a bewitching little place known as Fablehaven?

Children finding hidden worlds in seemingly ordinary places is not exactly a fresh literary device. Still, Fablehaven, the first book in Brandon Mull's popular series, proves that originality still exists in the world of fantasy. While we've seen satyrs and demons and fairies before, we've never met creatures quite like the ones that crawl out of Mull's vivid imagination. They're creative, fun, and rarely predictable. Not unlike this series. Fablehaven's humans need some fleshing out, its prose could use a polish, and a little pep wouldn't hurt the dialogue one bit. Despite that, the book's a fun, action-packed start to what promises to be a thrilling series. Clean, upbeat, and exciting, Fablehaven's one of those series that's sure to enchant all readers, be they children, adults or something in between. Just know that when entering a magical sanctuary, it's best to tread carefully, expect the unexpected, and, above all, drink your milk. Consider yourself warned.

(Readalikes: reminded me a lot of The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis, a little of the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling and The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan)

Grade: B

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for fantasy violence

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of Fablehaven from the generous folks at Shadow Mountain. Thank you!

Pretty much everything I know about tsarist Russia comes from the movies Fiddler on the Roof (1971) and Anastasia (1997). I'm sure I studied world history at some point during my schooling, but when I think of early 20th Century Russia, I see animated figures dancing around Palace Square and hear Tevye singing, "If I Were A Rich Man." Yes, I do realize that my tenuous, Hollywood-tainted grasp on Russian history is slightly pathetic. However, it explains, at least in part, why I was so thrilled when Deseret Book offered me the opportunity to review Gale Sears' new novel, The Silence of God. The story unfurls in a time and place that I've only experienced through film - reading about the rich, complex history of St. Petersburg brought the setting to life like no movie ever could. If the words to "Sunrise, Sunset" floated through my head as I read, well, that's not such a bad thing, right?

Although the book is fictional, it centers around a real family, the members of which were the only known Latter-Day Saints living in Russia at the time. Johan Lindlof, the father, made his living as a gold and silversmith. His job provided enough income for the family to live in relative luxury as part of St. Petersburg's wealthy, bourgeois middle class. He and his wife were the parents of eight children, the oldest of whom was born in 1888, the youngest, in 1903. The story focuses mainly on Agnes (b. 1894), who was in her early 20s when most of the book's events take place.

The Silence of God begins with a quiet blessing of the Russian land by apostle Francis Marion Lyman. The Lindlofs are thrilled to be in the presence of a respected leader of their church and even more delighted by his prayer, which prophesies that their country will be important in the spread of the Gospel. Although the Lindlofs have great faith in the Lord, present circumstances hardly indicate an opening of minds or softening of hearts toward God. With poverty running rampant through St. Petersburg and the common people up in arms over the tsar's apparent indifference, it looks as though the city's headed for war, not religious enlightenment. When the Bolsheviks seize power, everyone's loyalties become subject. The Lindlofs become targets not only because of their money, but because of their strange American religion. Johan believes in obeying the laws of his land - he just doesn't agree with the rebels' Socialist ideals. His staunch faith, coupled with his refusal to side with the Bolsheviks, puts Johan and his family at great risk in a city pulsing with an unrest that's becoming more violent by the hour.

Natasha Ivanovna Gavrilova, a Bolshevik propaganda writer and Agnes' lifelong friend, knows the Lindlofs are good people, even if they have been bamboozled by angels and golden bibles. Her father, a university professor, has taught Natasha to think carefully about everything. And she is. Maybe too carefully, because a conversation she has with Johan Lindlof about the difference between Socialism and Mormonism's law of consecration just won't leave her mind. Who will bring peace to Russia, she wonders - Lenin and the Bolsheviks? The tsar? The Mormons? The more Natasha Ivanovna considers the question, the more confused she's becoming. When the Lindlofs suffer a terrible fate, she must decide where her loyalties lie. Only Natasha Ivanovna, a recognized Bolshevik, has the power to save her dearest friend, a woman her comrades have declared an enemy-of-the-state.

Set against the tumultuous backdrop of a country in crisis, The Silence of God is the unforgettable story of a family whose faith sustains them even in the most desperate of circumstances. As preachy or cheesy as it may sound, the book is much more than a tale of enduring to the end. Since we spend most of the story inside Natasha Ivanovna's head, we delve into the eternal and inevitable clashes between politics and religion; youthful zeal and tradition; the common people and their governments; and, of course, man's weakness v. God's power. It's these ideas, plus the way Sears makes the history come alive that makes this book so riveting. Usually, I dislike historical fiction in which the history vastly outweighs the fiction - in this book, however, I hardly cared. The drama, tragedy, and triumph intrinsic in Russia's history swept me clean away. Viewing it through the struggles of the Lindlof Family only made it more vivid, more real. Even though I had trouble keeping track of the many Lindlofs, none of whom were rounded enough to really stand out, I realized just how "close" I'd grown to them when I discovered that Sears altered their fates in the book. It still surprises me, somehow, that real life can be so much crueller than fiction.

As much as I enjoyed both Fiddler on the Roof and Anastasia, The Silence of God made me realize how much I missed by allowing them to be my only portals into Russian history. Tevye still makes me laugh and the possibility of Anastasia's survival will always capture my imagination, but Gale Sears is the one who really made it all come alive for me. I can't be quiet about this one - The Silence of God is a touching must-read. It does more justice to the richness of tsarist Russia than anything else I've encountered. Don't miss it.

(Readalikes: Reminded me a little of Dean R. Hughes' World War II series, Children of the Promise)

Grade: B+

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for war-related violence and threats of violence (both physical and sexual)

To the FTC, with love: I received a finished copy of The Silence of God from the generous folks at Deseret Book. Thank you!

Everyone knows that preachers' families are perfect - home cooked dinners around the table every night, love and harmony permeating the very air, and absolutely no skeletons hidden in the closets (those are filled with crocheted booties for the congregation's newborns and afghans for the shut-ins). The Divine Family fits the cliche pretty well. Except that Grace, a high school junior, knows that beneath her family's shiny facade lies a murky little secret. It has to do with Daniel Kalbi, a troubled teen who once found solace at the Divine home. It has to do with the night Daniel vanished, the night Grace's brother came home dripping blood.

When The Dark Divine by Bree Despain opens, Grace is shocked to find that Daniel's returned to their small Minnesota town. What he wants exactly, she's not sure, but Daniel has a habit of appearing wherever she goes. He's obviously still hurting. Is it wrong that Grace wants to help him work through his pain? They were once as close as siblings. Grace's father has always preached forgiveness, so why won't her family embrace Daniel as they once did? What do they know about him that she doesn't? What happened the night he disappeared? The closer Grace gets to the truth of the matter, the more she realizes that nothing is ever as it seems. Even within a preacher's family.

I was excited to read this book for several reasons: (1) It's generated a lot of buzz in the book blogosphere; (2) I always get excited when a young (ish - roughly around my age) LDS author publishes for a mainstream audience; and (3) Bree Despain is one of the infamous "6" that the hilarious Brodi Ashton can't quit talking about. So, naturally, I had to give it a whirl. What did I think? Honestly, I wanted to be a lot more impressed than I was. The Dark Divine is not a bad book, it's just not unique enough to stand above the crowd in a market saturated with this exact kind of story. It could have used some depth, some development, and a whole lotta originality. That being said, I did read the book in one day (sucking in a couple of chapters whenever I surfaced from my Vicodin-induced coma), so it was engrossing enough to keep me turning pages. However, I had a hard time recalling much about the story when I sat down to write this review which means one of two things - either my mind's still fuzzy from pain meds or the book just wasn't that memorable. Unfortunately, I think it's the latter.

Now, don't think I'm giving up on Despain (I have dumped the Vicodin, however - I just can't stand the mind cloud) - I'll definitely be checking out The Dark Divine's sequel. I'm just hoping for a little originality, a few surprises, something to make this series different than all the other YA paranormal stories out there. C'mon, she's LDS, a BYU alum and a member of the illustrious "6" - I think it's fair to expect great things out of this girl.

(Readalikes: Shiver by Maggie Stiefvater [my review])

Grade: B-

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for some language and violence

To the FTC, with love: Another library fine find