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(Note:  While this review will not contain spoilers for Ruins, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from earlier Partials books.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.)

As the tension between humans and Partials reaches a deadly breaking point, Kira Walker knows it's up to her to bring the two sides together.  Half human, half Partial, the 17-year-old wants nothing more than peace between the two species.  It won't be easy to stop the killing, the hate, the prejudice that is driving the two sides to war.  Especially when both have weapons capable of annihilating the other.  Even with the help of friends from both species, the outcome for Kira—as well at the world at large—looks pretty bleak.  If she gives everything she has, everything she can, will it be enough?  Or is this the end of it all?

Like the first two books in the Partials trilogy by Dan Wells, Ruins offers a high-stakes, adrenaline-fueled apocalyptic survival story.  Laced with humor, romance, and a whole lot of blood, it's engrossing for sure.  In this finale, all the story's loose ends are wrapped up neatly—probably too neatly—making for a satisfying end to an exciting series.  Still, I have the same complaints about Ruins that I did about Partials and Fragments—the characters remain pretty flat and the prose is more tell than show.  Overall, then, I liked Ruins, but didn't love it.  Same with the series as a whole.  It's entertaining, just not my favorite.

(Readalikes:  Partials and Fragments by Dan Wells)

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Cora Mason is supposed to be on the slopes skiing with her family.  In fact, the last thing the 16-year-old remembers is composing song lyrics in the passenger seat while her brother drove to the ski resort.  But what she sees now isn't snow.  She's alone in a vast sea of sand.  Cora's a senator's daughter—maybe this is a kidnapping?  Except her surroundings don't even seem real.  There's something off about them, something surreal and dream-like to the whole situation.  The more Cora explores the land around her, the more confused she becomes.  A patchwork landscape like this can't exist.  Farms don't sit next to jungles, nor tundras next to deserts.  Where in the world has she landed?  And why is she here?

Soon, Cora discovers other teenagers, all wandering the strange terrain in various states of astonishment and fear.  As they learn to regard each other with a wary trust, they also discover the chilling truth about their new living quarters:  the odd habitat has been designed especially for them, the newest exhibits in a human zoo run by a highly intelligent alien race.  To remain in the safety of the zoo, all they have to do is obey—they must eat, sleep, exercise, and procreate.  If they do not comply, they will be auctioned off to private collectors who use captured humans for their own murky purposes.

While some of her comrades agree, preferring known horrors to the unknown, Cora refuses to be controlled so easily.  Her new-found friendship with one of the alien guards may be the key to escape.  But, as the human captives turn their backs on Cora and her otherworldly captors grow more suspicious of her intentions, life in the zoo is becoming increasingly dangerous.  Can Cora find her way home?  Or will she be forced to live like a caged animal, kept alive only as long as she does what she's told?  

Megan Shepherd, author of The Madman's Daughter trilogy, must have a stomach of steel.  In her debut series, she addressed the bloody art of vivisection in all its fascinating goriness.  Her new YA novel, The Cage (available May 26, 2015), is no less horrifying with its vivid and disturbing depictions of humans being kept as exhibits and pets.  As disconcerting as the idea is, though, I have to admit it makes for an intriguing premise, one that pretty much guarantees an intense, nail-biter of a story, which The Cage certainly is.  Pulse-pounding action isn't the only thing the novel has going for it—mix in interesting, complex characters; thought-provoking philosophical questions (What is real?  What does it mean to truly be free?); and a taut, survivalist adventure tale; and you've got yourself an edge-of-your-seat, can't-put-it-down thriller.  My only real complaint is I wish the kids hadn't met the Kindred quite so soon.  A more anonymous antagonist (a lá LOST or The Maze Runner) would have made the story even more suspenseful.  Despite that small annoyance, I couldn't look away from this one.  It kept me totally engrossed and completely mesmerized.  I'm already dying to read the next book in the series.  

(Readalikes:  Reminds me of The Maze Runner trilogy [The Maze Runner; The Scorch Trials; The Death Cure] by James Dashner and a little of the t.v. show LOST)

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(Note:  While this review will not contain spoilers for Fragments, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from its predecessor, Partials.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.)

After discovering that she's an unlinked Partial created by the scientists at ParaGen, Kira Walker struggles to accept the truth of her identity.  It doesn't matter that she has found the cure for RM—the virus that has been killing every newborn human for years—if her friends find out she shares DNA with the enemy robots who are trying to destroy humanity, they'll turn their backs on Kira.  Even Kira doesn't know what to think.  All she knows is that she needs answers.  And she's not finding them in Manhattan.  No one knows what lies beyond the human settlement in New York—anything could be lurking in the untamed, post-apocalyptic western wilderness.  Or worse, there could be nothing out there.  No survivors, no information, no life, no answers.  But Kira has to try.  

In the old world, ParaGen was headquartered in Denver, Colorado.  If there's any information to be had, that's where it will be stored.  If the building is still standing, if the computers can be made to work, if Denver still exists, if ... It's a long shot, but there's where Kira plans to go.  Samm, the Partial boy who confuses Kira's every emotion, insists on going with her.  As does Heron, a combative Partial spy model.  The trio must also drag along Afa Demoux, ParaGen's once-brilliant IT manager.  Now a rambling drifter, he's a necessary, albeit unbalanced companion.

As the group moves further into the ruins of a forgotten world, they encounter every kind of challenge imaginable (as well as some they never could have conjured up).  With the fate of their world hanging in the balance, they must mount every obstacle, fight every battle, and above all, survive.  Before time runs out for them all.

Although I enjoy Dan Wells' unsettling adult novels, I haven't been particularly wowed by his YA offerings.  Partials kept me reading, but not rushing to find out what was going to happen.  I had a similar experience with its sequel, Fragments.  While the novel has flashes of tense, exciting action, not just between the principal characters and their environment, but between the story people themselves, the plot drags.  Quite a lot.  There are a few surprises, sure—I just felt that a good 100 pages could have been chopped from the book without losing anything important.  Character development would have been a good way to use those extra words.  Even after two (long) books, Wells' cast still feels flat to me.  Overall, then, Fragments was just an okay read for me.  If you enjoyed Partials, you'll probably like this one just fine.  If Partials didn't do it for you, this one likely won't either.  A lot of readers adore this series; for me, it's just been so-so.

(Readalikes:  Partials and Ruins by Dan Wells)

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If this were a movie, it would be rated:

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Built as a refuge from the toxin-coated land Above, Atlantia is an underwater city, a safe haven for those fortunate enough to have earned a place there.  Although it's possible to leave, few do. Those left Above spend their lives slaving away in the diseased world in order to ensure the survival of those in Atlantia.  It's considered a noble sacrifice to toil away for the good of the underwater world, but not one many are willing to make.   

Although 15-year-old Rio Conwy loves Atlantia, she's always longed to live Above—to see the stars, to feel the sun, to roam in a vast land without walls.  She's finally old enough to choose her own fate, but things have changed.  With her mother dead, Rio can't abandon her fragile twin sister, Bay.  Staying Below forever is a sacrifice she has to make, no matter how much it hurts.

When Bay makes her own unexpected choice, Rio is stunned.  Her world flip-flops.  She knows she can't remain in Atlantia, but her chance to go Above has passed.  It's a trip she is now forbidden to make.  No one has ever successfully sneaked out of Atlantia on their own, but she has to try for her sister and herself.  As Rio attempts the risky escape, she must also be careful to keep her true nature a secret.  If anyone finds out what she really is, Rio would never—never—be allowed out of the Council's sight.  When she stumbles on some disturbing secrets about her world, she's even more determined to leave.  But, making enemies with the Council is not a good idea.  Can Rio make her escape?  Can she find Bay?  Or is she destined to remain trapped forever in a snowglobe beneath the sea?

Ever since I read the premise of Ally Condie's newest novel, Atlantia, I've been intrigued by it.  Especially once I figured out it's not a mermaid story, but an underwater dystopian adventure.  I expected a magical, atmospheric tale that would spellbind me with its beauty.  Did I get it?  Not exactly.  The world of Atlantia is unique, but its rules are dumped in such a rush that the setting never feels real.  The relationship between Rio and Bay unfolds in much the same way.  Their interactions are so quick and flat that, for the rest of the novel, I didn't feel any urgency for the twins to be reunited.  In fact, flat is a good adjective for my experience with this whole book—the setting lacks dimension, the characters remain mostly undeveloped, and the plot gets pretty blah in places.  All in all, I just didn't love Atlantia.  Too many leaks, if you'll pardon the pun.  While I did appreciate the risks Condie took with the story, as well as the fact that she kept it PG, overall, this one left me feeling very disappointed.  Ah, well.

(Readalikes:  Reminded me of Dark Life and Rip Tide by Kat Falls)

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If this were a movie, it would be rated:

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(Note:  While this review will not contain spoilers for Messenger by Lois Lowry, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from The Giver and Gathering Blue.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.)

Village used to be a peaceful place, a place that welcomed outcasts into its fold.  No more.  A strange wind is blowing through the once utopian town, bringing with it the stink of greed, envy, and suspicion.  When the decision is made to close Village to outsiders, Matty panics.  If no one is allowed in, the blind, old Seer will never get to visit with the beloved daughter with whom he's only recently been reunited.  Matty cannot allow the kind old man to have is heart broken again.  He must traverse the deadly Forest to bring Kira home to her father—before it's too late.

As if to prove just how different things have become, Forest has grown hostile even to Matty, who's always been able to move through it safely.  Without that special ability, he may not be able to make it through to Kira.  He cares too much for the Seer not to at least try.  Armed only with a peculiar gift that he's only beginning to understand, Matty must make a perilous journey in order to help his friend, and his community, heal.  Will he reach Kira in time?  Will he even make it out of Forest alive?  

Readers who felt frustrated with the open endings of the first two books in Lois Lowry's unsettling dystopian series will be happy to know that Messenger, the third volume, connects at least a few dots.  We finally learn what happened to Jonas and Gabe, as well as Seer and other characters from the previous books.  Really, though, this is Matty's story.  Brave and loyal, he's an easy hero for which to root.  Allegorical in nature (as are all of The Giver books), Messenger is a cautionary tale about what happens to people (and communities) when the evils of the world are allowed overcome their better natures.  As always, I can't help but find Biblical parallels in Lowry's stories—Matty could be seen as Adam leaving the Garden of Eden or even a type of Christ.  The best part about this series is probably the fact that Lowry leaves it all open to the reader's interpretation.  Regardless of which lessons you find for yourself in Messenger, it's a compelling read.  If you loved The Giver, you definitely don't want to miss it. 

(Readalikes:  The Giver, Gathering Blue, and Son by Lois Lowry)

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On an otherwise ordinary winter's night in Toronto, Canada, a famous actor dies onstage during a performance of King Lear.  Jeevan Chaudhary, a papparazzo turned EMT, rushes from his seat in the audience to pump the man's heart back into action.  He fails, while Kristen Raymonde, an 8-year-old actress, looks on in horror.  The night is memorable not just for the actor's death, but because it's the night a devastating flu epidemic begins to spread with deadly speed.  The carnage is only beginning.  

Fifteen years later, Kristen is traveling the ruined, post-apocalyptic world with a band of actors and musicians.  For them, life isn't just about survival, it's about preserving the art and music that once flourished all around them.  It's about sharing beauty, spreading joy even in desperate circumstances.  Risking their own safety, the Traveling Symphony performs concerts and plays in makeshift settlements all around the Great Lakes region.  While the area is mostly safe, danger always lurks around the corner in this strange, new land.

As the Traveling Symphony encounters a chilling menace, the tale sweeps back and forth in time, filling in the back stories of the main players.  As their pasts and presents intertwine, it's their relationships that sustain them, their bravery that saves them, and their desire for a life beyond mere survival that elevates them.

It's tough to describe the plot of Station Eleven, Emily St. John Mandel's award-winning novel.  It's even harder to explain its luminous, elegiac beauty.  To say it's unique, different from other post-apocalyptic stories, just doesn't seem quite adequate.  It's true, though.  Most dystopians rely heavily on dramatic plot surprises to keep the reader turning pages—Station Eleven leans on its characters.  They're complex enough, interesting enough, to command the reader's attention all on their own.  It's the discovery of who the characters are at heart, plus finding the clever twists of fate that connect them that makes this novel such a pleasure to read.  I wish I could capture the magic of this book in words, but I just can't.  Luckily, there's an easy (and enjoyable) solution—Read Station Eleven for yourself. 

(Readalikes:  Um, I can't really think of anything.  Can you?)

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It's a little silly to try to write my own plot summary for a book when a perfectly good one—actually, a great one—already exists.  Since re-inventing the wheel is just so last century, I'm going to give you the publisher's version.  Both concise and precise, it offers a brilliant overview of Winterkill by Kate A. Boorman:

Taut and compelling, Winterkill is an intense, atmospheric novel that kept me riveted from its first page to its last.  Although it contains many familiar dystopian components, it's really more of a psychological thriller than the usual post-apocalyptic survival drama.  The novel isn't all that original, really, but it's so well crafted that it feels fresh and unique.  In a word (okay, three):  I loved it.

(Readalikes:  The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan)

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(Note:  Although this review will not contain spoilers for Prototype, it may inadvertently reveal plot surprises from its predecessor, Archetype.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.)

Having narrowly escaped the possessive clutches of Declan Burke—the man who claims to be her adoring husband—Emma is on the run.  Desperate to find the parents she never knew, she's spent the last year searching the globe for any sign of them, but to no avail.  While questioning a promising source in far-off Mexico, she receives shocking news.  Declan, whom she believed to be dead is, in fact, alive.  Not only that, but he wants her back.  And has promised to make the person who can produce his missing wife a very, very wealthy individual.  

With a target on her back, Emma has little choice but to go underground.  Although the Resistance leaders allow her to hide with them, no one—least of all Noah Tucker—can quite trust the clone who wears the face of their dead friend.  Emma doesn't want to intrude on the life Noah has made for himself with another woman, even if that woman is now helping him raise their daughter.  Still, she can't help feeling envious.  Still unsure of what she actually is, Emma can't help questioning what she wants and where she really belongs.  Should she reconcile herself to being Declan's dutiful wife or should she fight for what was Emma Wade's—even if she's not exactly Emma Wade?  As Declan's forces close in on her, Emma must chose her fate, once and for all.

After the thrill ride that was M.D. Waters' Archetype, I couldn't wait to delve into its sequel, Prototype.  I expected the same kind of taut, twisty plotline; intriguing world-building; and psychological suspense that kept me so riveted in the first book.  Did I find it in Prototype?  Not so much.  The plot suffers because of Emma's weak story goal, dissolving into a generic dystopian cat-and-mouse adventure with an irritating love triangle at its center.  There are a few psychological thrills thrown in to make Prototype interesting, but not quite enough to make it as enjoyable as Archetype.  All in all, I did find this one entertaining, just a little disappointing after the build-up of the first book.  

(Readalikes:  Archetype by M.D. Waters)

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(Note:  Although this review will not contain spoilers for In a Handful of Dust, it may inadvertently expose plot surprises from its predecessor, Not a Drop to Drink.  As always, I recommend reading books in a series in order.)

Even though Lynn has learned the value of trusting other people, the 26-year-old is still watchful, still cautious.  Unlike Lynn, Lucy—who is now 16—has grown up in a close community, surrounded by friends.  She knows little about vigilance or surviving in the world beyond their small village.  But, when a deadly disease strikes, killing almost everyone in its path, that's exactly what Lucy must do.  Led by the unyielding Lynn, she leaves behind the people she loves, including the boy she hoped to marry, for the promise of a "normal" life in far away California.

There are a lot of miles between Ohio and the Pacific Ocean, all of them fraught with danger.  It's not just the threat of wildlife or human violence that threatens them, but all the mundane problems as well—hunger, thirst, blisters, sunburns, injuries, squabbles, etc.  Although Lucy pines for her lost love, both women are determined to reach safety on the West Coast.  No matter what it takes to get there—and it will take everything they have.  And more.

One of the reasons I liked Not a Drop to Drink, Mindy McGinnis' debut novel, so much is that it offered an original take on a familiar story.  That, combined with compelling characters, vivid prose and tight plotting made it stand out from all the other YA dystopians out there.  With its sequel, In a Handful of Dust (available September 23, 2014), the story bends in a more generic The Road-type direction.  Still, McGinnis knows how to keep things from getting too stale.  With the bleak, spare style that defined Not a Drop to Drink, she continues to develop the relationship between Lynn and Lucy while hurling enough obstacles in their way to keep their journey exciting.  Although I liked the first novel better, In a Handful of Dust is still a compelling and worthy sequel.  Overall, I enjoyed it.

(Readalikes:  Not a Drop to Drink by Mindy McGinnis; The Road by Cormac McCarthy)

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