Monday, August 05, 2013

{Review} Fire with Fire will leave you gasping for more! @JennyHan @siobhanvivian

Fire with Fire (Burn for Burn, #2)When sweet revenge turns sour… Book two of a trilogy fromNew York Times, bestselling author Jenny Han and Siobhan Vivian.

Lillia, Kat, and Mary had the perfect plan. Work together in secret to take down the people who wronged them. But things didn’t exactly go the way they’d hoped at the Homecoming Dance.

Not even close.

For now, it looks like they got away with it. All they have to do is move on and pick up the pieces, forget there ever was a pact. But it’s not easy, not when Reeve is still a total jerk and Rennie’s meaner than she ever was before.

And then there’s sweet little Mary…she knows there’s something seriously wrong with her. If she can’t control her anger, she’s sure that someone will get hurt even worse than Reeve was. Mary understands now that it’s not just that Reeve bullied her—it’s that he made her love him.

Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, burn for a burn. A broken heart for a broken heart. The girls are up to the task. They’ll make Reeve fall in love with Lillia and then they will crush him. It’s the only way he’ll learn.

It seems once a fire is lit, the only thing you can do is let it burn...






When my friend over at WTF Are You Reading told me that this was on Edelweiss I about flipped out! I had been sent an ARC of book one Burn for Burn and loved it.  So I went on to Amazon and snagged me a finished copy of Burn for Burn so I could reread it. And again I loved it!  So I started Fire with Fire and well I loved MOST of it.  I love that these authors took a contemporary ya book and added a wonderful paranormal theme to it and well for the most part it is working.  I only had one issue in Fire with Fire that I really hope works out in book three!  I will say this that if that one chapter (if you have read it you know what im talking about) is not explained in book 3 it will make this trilogy a mess.  

Ok so Fire with Fire was just wow amazing!  These authors need to write more books with each other! The girls are back in book two of the Burn for Burn series and well their scheming is going to get someone hurt in more ways than one!  This book is filled with guilt and unsaid feelings.  This series really reminds me of John Tucker Must Die (which was funny).  I so cant wait for book three to come out!  Which is entitled Ashes to Ashes and is due to come out in 2014!  
"*I received a copy of this book for free to review, this in no way influenced my review, all opinions are 100% honest and my own."
About the Author: 

Jenny Han is the New York Times bestselling author of The Summer I Turned Pretty series, Shug, and the Burn for Burn trilogy. She is also the author of the chapter book Clara Lee and The Apple Pie Dream. A former children’s bookseller, she earned her MFA in creative writing at the New School. Visit her at DearJennyHan.com.

Siobhan Vivian is the author of the young adult novel The List, as well as Not That Kind of Girl, Same Difference, and A Little Friendly Advice, and the Burn for Burn trilogy. A former editor for Alloy Entertainment, she received her MFA in creative writing at the New School. She teaches creative writing at the University of Pittsburgh. Visit her at SiobhanVivian.com.


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"Thanks to the publisher or author for sending me this copy!"


Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.


If you havent read Burn for Burn here is the First Chapter:

CHAPTER ONE
LILLIA
I’M SITTING ON MY BATHROOM COUNTER, TRYING TO remember what the makeup lady at Saks told me about how to do eyeliner on Asian eyes. Only . . . I can’t think straight.
I think she said to wing it just the tiniest bit. I do my right eye first, and it looks okay. I’m finishing up my left eye when my little sister, Nadia, bangs on the door so loudly that I jump.
“Lil! I need to take a shower!” she yells. “Lilli-uhh!”
I pick up my hairbrush and then reach over and unlock the door. Nadia rushes in and turns on the water. She sits on the edge of the tub, in her big soccer T-shirt with her shiny black hair mussed up in the back and watches me brush my hair. “You look pretty,” she says, her voice scratchy with sleep.
Do I? At least the outside is still the same.
I keep brushing. Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, done. I brush my hair twenty-five strokes every morning. I’ve done it that way since I was little.
Today will be like any other day.
“But I thought you weren’t supposed to wear white after Labor Day,” Nadia adds.
I look down at my sweater. It’s new—white cashmere, soft and snug. I’m wearing it with my white short shorts. “Nobody follows that rule anymore,” I tell her, hopping down from the counter. “Besides, this is winter white.” I swat at her butt with my hairbrush. “Hurry up and get in the shower.”
“Do I have time to curl my hair before Rennie gets here?” she asks me.
“No,” I say, closing the door behind me. “Five minutes.”
Back in my room I start filling my brown saddlebag with my school things, like I’m on autopilot. My new pen and the leather planner my mom got me as a back-to-school gift. Lollies. Cherry ChapStick. I try to think if I’m forgetting something, but nothing comes to mind, so I grab my white espadrilles and head down the stairs.
My mom is in the kitchen, wearing her robe and drinking an espresso. My dad bought her one of those fancy espresso machines for Christmas, and she makes a point of using it at least once a week, even though she prefers tea, and even though my dad is hardly ever at home to see her use it. He’s a doctor, the kind who does research. For as long as I can remember, he’s been working on some new drug to cure cancer. He spends part of the month working at a lab in Boston, and he gets sent all over the world to present his findings. He was on the cover of some science journal this summer. I forget the name of it.
Gesturing to the plate of muffins, my mom says, “Sit down and eat before you go, Lilli. I got those sugary ones you love.”
“Rennie will be here any minute,” I say. When I see the disappointed look on my mom’s face, I take a muffin and wrap it in a napkin. “I’ll eat it in the car.”
Touching my hair, she says, “I can’t believe you’re a senior in high school. One more year and you’ll be away at college. My pretty girl is grown-up.”
I look away. I guess I am grown-up now.
“At least I still have my baby. Is Nadi getting ready?”
I nod.
“You have to look out for Nadi now that you’re at the same school. You know how she looks up to you, Lilli.” My mom squeezes my arm, and I swallow hard. I do have to look out for Nadia better. Not like how I did on Saturday night, when I left her at Alex’s party. She was with her friends, but still.
I should have stayed.
Rennie’s horn honks outside, and I stand up. “Nadia!” I yell. “Rennie’s here!”
“Just one more minute!” Nadia shrieks back.
I hug my mom and head for the garage door.
“Take a muffin for Rennie,” she calls out as I close the door behind me. Rennie wouldn’t eat it anyway. She goes off carbs at the start of every cheerleading season. She only lasts about a month before she gives in, though.
In the garage I slip on my espadrilles, and then I walk down the driveway to Rennie’s Jeep.
“Nadia’s right behind me,” I say, climbing inside.
Rennie leans over and hugs me good morning. Hug her back, I tell myself. And I do.
“Your skin looks awesome against the white,” she says, eyeing me up and down. “I wish I could get as tan as you.”
Rennie’s wearing tight jeans and an even tighter lacy scoop neck top, with a nude cami underneath. She’s so tiny, I can see her rib cage. I don’t think she’s wearing a bra. She doesn’t have to. She’s got a gymnast’s body.
“You’re pretty tan too,” I say, clicking my seat belt.
“Bronzer, baby.” She puts on her sunglasses and starts talking a mile a minute. “So here’s what I’m thinking for the next party. It came to me in a dream last night. The theme will be . . . Are you ready for this? The roaring twenties! The girls could wear flapper costumes with, like, a feather headpiece, and long beaded necklaces, and then the boys could wear zoot suits and fedoras. Hot, right?”
“I don’t know,” I say, looking out the window. Rennie’s talking so fast and so much, it’s making my head pound. “The guys might not be into it. Where are they supposed to find that stuff on the island?”
“Hello, it’s called the Internet!” Rennie taps her fingers on the steering wheel. “What’s taking Nadia so long? I want to get there before everybody else does so I can claim my parking spot for the year.” She presses her hand down on the horn—once, then twice.
“Stop,” I say. “You’re going to wake up my neighbors.”
“Oh, please. The closest house is, like, half a mile down the street.”
Our front door flies open, and Nadia comes running down the steps. She looks tiny against our massive white house. It’s different from most of the other houses on the island—modern lines and lots of glass. My mom helped design it. It was originally our summer home, and then we moved to Jar Island for good before my freshman year. I was the one who begged to move here, to be with Rennie and my summer friends.
My mom waves at us from the front door. I wave back.
“So are you yay or nay on the twenties party?” Rennie asks me.
I honestly don’t care, but I know my answer matters to her—which is why I feel like saying nay.
But before I can, Nadia is at the car, her hair sopping wet. She’s got on her new jeans and the black top the three of us bought together when we went shopping back in July. That feels like forever ago.
She climbs into the backseat. I twist around and say, “You should have dried your hair, Nadi. You know you always get colds when you go around with wet hair.”
Breathlessly she says, “I was scared you guys would leave without me.”
“We wouldn’t leave you!” Rennie cries, turning the wheel. “We’re your big sisters. We’ll always look out for you, honey bun.”
Something nasty is on the tip of my tongue, and I swallow hard to keep from saying it. If I say it, we’ll never be the same again. Even worse than now.
We pull around our circular driveway and down the road.
“Cheerleading practice is at four,” Rennie reminds me, bouncing in her seat to the music. “Don’t be late. We need to evaluate the fresh meat. See what we’ve got to work with. Did you remember to bring your mini camcorder so we can tape them?”
I open my bag and look, even though I know it’s not there. “I forgot.”
“Lil! I wanted to evaluate them later tonight in HD.” Rennie lets out a grumbly sigh, like she’s disappointed in me.
I shrug my shoulders. “We’ll deal.” That’s what we’re doing right now, isn’t it? Dealing? But Rennie’s clearly better at it than me.
“Nadi, who’s the prettiest of all your friends?” Rennie asks.
“Patrice,” Nadia says.
Rennie makes a left, and we pass the small rental cottages that populate Canobie Bluffs. I focus on one in particular. There’s a caretaker outside closing it up for the season, now that it’s empty. I think it’s Reeve’s dad. He’s bolting the shutters on the first floor windows. He hasn’t gotten to the master bedroom yet. Those ones are still wide open.
I turn my head away, and out of the corner of my eye, I look at Rennie. Just to see if she has noticed it too. But there’s nothing there—no recognition, no alarm, nothing.
“Nadi, you’re so much prettier than Patrice. FYI, I’m only taking the cream of the crop for the varsity squad,” Rennie says. “Let me know if there’s anyone you want to cheer for, and I’ll hook it up.”
Immediately Nadia says, “Alex. Can I cheer for Alex?”
Rennie gasps. “Ooh! You better ask your sister. He’s her boy toy.”
“Rennie, be quiet.” I say it more snappishly than I intended, and she makes a face to Nadia in her rearview mirror. I take a breath. “Nadia, there’s a whole line of junior and senior girls ahead of you for Alex. We can’t show favoritism like that. I mean, how would it look, us giving a senior starter to a freshman? Besides, you still have to try out. You haven’t made the squad yet.”
At this, Rennie nods. “Lil’s right. I mean, you’re basically in but we have to treat you the same as everybody else. Even though you’re clearly special.” Nadia wriggles in her seat like a puppy. “Oh, and make sure to tell your friends that if they’re even one minute late, they’re going to b... 

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