Enjoy fast, free delivery, exclusive deals, and award-winning movies & TV shows with Prime
Try Prime
and start saving today with fast, free delivery
Amazon Prime includes:
Fast, FREE Delivery is available to Prime members. To join, select "Try Amazon Prime and start saving today with Fast, FREE Delivery" below the Add to Cart button.
Amazon Prime members enjoy:- Cardmembers earn 5% Back at Amazon.com with a Prime Credit Card.
- Unlimited Free Two-Day Delivery
- Streaming of thousands of movies and TV shows with limited ads on Prime Video.
- A Kindle book to borrow for free each month - with no due dates
- Listen to over 2 million songs and hundreds of playlists
- Unlimited photo storage with anywhere access
Important: Your credit card will NOT be charged when you start your free trial or if you cancel during the trial period. If you're happy with Amazon Prime, do nothing. At the end of the free trial, your membership will automatically upgrade to a monthly membership.
$14.36$14.36
Ships from: Amazon Sold by: markable
$11.37$11.37
Ships from: Amazon Sold by: Giant Giant
Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet, or computer - no Kindle device required.
Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.
Using your mobile phone camera - scan the code below and download the Kindle app.
OK
Audible sample Sample
The Book of Ivy (Book of Ivy, 1) Paperback – November 11, 2014
Purchase options and add-ons
Discover the New York Times bestseller that SLJ called “A fantastic plot that makes readers think about the blurred lines between right and wrong.”
What would you kill for?
After a brutal nuclear war, the United States was left decimated. A small group of survivors eventually banded together, but only after more conflict over which family would govern the new nation. The Westfalls lost. Fifty years later, peace and control are maintained by marrying the daughters of the losing side to the sons of the winning group in a yearly ritual.
This year, it is my turn.
My name is Ivy Westfall, and my mission is simple: to kill the president's son―my soon-to-be husband―and return the Westfall family to power.
But Bishop Lattimer is either a very skilled actor or he's not the cruel, heartless boy my family warned me to expect. He might even be the one person in this world who truly understands me. But there is no escape from my fate. I am the only one who can restore the Westfall legacy.
Because Bishop must die. And I must be the one to kill him…
Each book in The Book of Ivy series should be READ IN ORDER:
Book 1: The Book of Ivy
Book 2: The Revolution of Ivy
- Reading age12 - 18 years
- Print length304 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- Grade level7 - 9
- Lexile measureHL770L
- Dimensions5.55 x 0.87 x 8.22 inches
- PublisherEntangled: Teen
- Publication dateNovember 11, 2014
- ISBN-101622664655
- ISBN-13978-1622664658
The Amazon Book Review
Book recommendations, author interviews, editors' picks, and more. Read it now.
Frequently bought together
Customers who viewed this item also viewed
Editorial Reviews
From School Library Journal
Review
“Together with the emotionally fraught situation--simply having to share a house with a man is unsettling for Ivy--the book has immediacy, and there's justification for plenty of teenage angst. Ivy is forced to question her family's motivations as Bishop keeps surprising her, and she surprises herself with her growing feelings for him. The worldbuilding is mostly well-thought-out, with some complicated issues. . . . An intriguing start with a brave heroine.” ―Kirkus Reviews on The Book of Ivy
“Thought-provoking, poignant, and sexy! Readers will burn the midnight oil to finish The Book of Ivy and fall asleep with the name Bishop Lattimer on their lips.” ―Regina at Mel, Erin, and Regina Read-A-Lot
“The Book of Ivy has every ingredient you look for in an epic novel: from the spine-tingling plot and exhilarating characters, to every entrancing word penned by Amy Engel.” ―Kris at Insightful Minds Reviews
“I enjoyed this novel so much that I polished it off in two sittings. There is no insta-love! There is no love triangle! Best of all, the protagonist actually has common sense, and she uses it! The slow-to-develop relationship is believable, and both Ivy and Bishop are easy to relate to. Waiting anxiously for Book 2!” ―Julie at Magna Maniac Café
“With her debut, Amy Engel has pulled off one of the best dystopian romances that I have ever read. It was impossible to put down.” ―Kayla at Bibliophilia, Please
About the Author
Amy Engel was born in Kansas and after a childhood spent bouncing between countries (Iran, Taiwan) and states (Kansas; California; Missouri; Washington, D.C.), she settled in Kansas City, Missouri, where she lives with her husband and two kids. Before devoting herself full-time to motherhood and writing, she was a criminal defense attorney, which is not quite as exciting as it looks on TV. When she has a free moment, she can usually be found reading, running, or shoe shopping. The Book of Ivy is her debut YA novel. Find her online at http://amyengel.net/ or @aengelwrites.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The Book of Ivy
By Amy Engel, Alycia Tornetta, Stacy AbramsEntangled Publishing, LLC
Copyright © 2014 Amy EngelAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-62266-465-8
CHAPTER 1
No one wears white wedding dresses anymore. White cloth is too hard to come by, and the expense and trouble of securing enough to make several dozen dresses, or more, is too high. Not even on a day like today, when it is our leader's son who will be one of the bridegrooms. Not even he is special enough to be allowed to marry a girl dressed in white.
"Stand still," my sister says from behind me. Her knuckles are icy cold against my spine as she tries to force up the zipper on the back of the pale blue dress. It was made for the wedding day she never had and it doesn't fit quite right on my taller frame. "There." She gives the zipper one last yank. "Turn around."
I turn slowly, smoothing my hands down the soft material. I'm not used to dresses. I don't like how naked I feel underneath, already longing for pants and a breath not hemmed in by a too-tight bodice. As if reading my thoughts, Callie's eyes roam downward. "You're bigger in the bust than I am," she says with a smirk. "But I doubt he'll complain."
"Shut up," I say, but there's no force behind my words. I didn't think I would be this nervous. It's not as if this day is a surprise. I've known my whole life that it was coming, spent every minute of the last two years preparing. But now that it's here, I can't stop the tremor in my fingers or the sick fall of my stomach. I don't know if I can do this, but I also know I have no choice.
Callie reaches up and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "You'll be fine," she says, her voice firm and even. "Right? You know what to do."
"Yes," I say, pulling my head back. Her words make me feel stronger; I don't need to be babied.
She looks at me for a long moment, her mouth a tight line. Is she angry that I'm taking the spot that should have rightfully been hers, or is she glad to give it up, to be rid of the burden of being the daughter who holds so much hope on her shoulders?
"Girls." My father's voice floats up the stairs. "It's time."
"You go," I tell Callie. "I'll be right down." I need one last minute of quiet, one last chance to look around this room that will never be mine again. Callie leaves the door ajar when she goes, and I can hear my father's impatient voice from downstairs, Callie murmuring something reassuring to him.
On my bed is a well-worn suitcase, the wheels broken off long ago, forcing me to carry it. I heave it off the mattress, turn in a slow circle, knowing I will never sleep in this narrow bed again, never brush my hair in front of the mirror above my dresser, never listen to the sound of rain tapping against my windowpane as I drift to sleep. I close my eyes against a sudden press of tears and take a deep breath. When I open my eyes, they are dry. I walk out of my room and I don't look back.
The weddings are performed on the second Saturday in May. Some years there is rain and with it the faint, acrid scent of burning, even after so many years. But today dawned clear, the sky a bright, hectic blue, wispy clouds floating on a mild breeze. It is a beautiful day to become a bride, but all I can concentrate on is the heavy thump of my heart and the line of sweat forming between my shoulder blades as we walk toward City Hall.
My father and Callie flank me, almost as if they are penning me in to keep me from bolting. I don't bother telling them I'm not going anywhere. My father's swinging hand brushes mine, and he clasps my fingers in his own. He hasn't held my hand since I was a little girl, and the gesture shocks me so much that I stumble over my own feet, the pressure of his hand balancing me at the last moment. I'm grateful for his touch, even though touching is not something he does often or easily. He is not an offerer of comfort. When your fate is predetermined, there's not much benefit in coddling. His job was to make me strong, and I like to think he did it well. But maybe that is just wishful thinking.
"We're proud of you," he says. He squeezes my hand once, hard, almost to the point of pain, and lets go. "You can do this."
"I know," I tell him, my eyes straight ahead. The limestone facade of City Hall is less than a block away now. There are several other girls climbing the steps with their parents. They must be nervous, anxious to find out if they will end today as someone's wife or if they will go home and slide between their own sheets again. My anxiety is different. I know where I will be sleeping tonight, and it won't be in my own bed.
As we reach the sidewalk in front of City Hall, people begin to turn, grinning at my father, reaching out to shake his hand, clap him on the back. A few women give me reassuring smiles as they tell me how pretty I look.
"Smile," Callie whispers near my ear. "Stop scowling at everyone."
"If it's so easy, why don't you try it?" I hiss back, but I do as she says and plaster a smile onto my face.
"I would have, remember?" she says. "But I didn't get the chance. Now you need to do it for me."
So she is jealous after all, angry at having her birthright stolen. I expect her eyes to be cold, but when I turn my head, she is looking at me with a softness I have rarely seen. She is the female version of our father, with his chocolate eyes and dark chestnut hair. I always longed to look like the two of them, instead of being the odd one out with my not-quite-blond, not-quite-brown hair and gray eyes, both gifts from my long-dead mother. But as little as we resemble each other, looking at Callie has always been like staring at a fiercer, more disciplined version of myself. Looking at her reminds me of who I am expected to become.
We follow the long line of brides into City Hall. All around me are girls in pale dresses, some with hands clutching small bouquets, others, like mine, empty. We are ushered into the main rotunda where a stage has been set up at one end. There is a dark curtain across the back, and I know that, even now, the boys are gathering behind it, lining up before they are revealed to find out who they are destined to marry.
The potential brides sit in the first few rows of chairs, the families of both brides and grooms seated behind them. President Lattimer and his wife, however, are seated on the stage, as they are every year. Even with a son behind the curtain, their status does not change. My father gives my hand a final squeeze before moving away. Callie brushes a quick, dry kiss against my cheek. "Good luck," she says. If my mother were still alive, maybe she would hug me, give me final words of advice that I could actually use instead of a worn-out platitude.
I slide into an empty seat in the front row, avoiding eye contact with President Lattimer and the girls on either side of me. I keep my gaze straight ahead, focusing on a slight tear in the stage's dark curtain until the girl next to me presses something into my hand. "Here," she says. "Take one and pass it on."
I do as she says, sliding the stack of programs to the girl on my left. It is the same program they give out every year. Only the color of the paper and the names inside change. It hardly seems worth the effort; I'm sure we all have it memorized by now. This year the program is a washed out pink, the words Wedding Ceremony across the front in curly, slightly smudged script. The first two pages are a history of our "nation." Personally, I think it's ridiculous to refer to a town of fewer than ten thousand people as a nation, but no one's ever asked for my opinion.
The history includes talk of the war that ended the world, the floods and droughts that followed, the diseases that almost finished us off. But we, of course, rose from the ashes, ragged, war-weary survivors who managed to find one another across a vast, barren landscape and carved out a spot to begin anew. Blah, blah, blah. Our rebirth, though, was not without conflict and more deaths as two sides fought to determine how our tiny nation would go forward. The winning side, the side led by President Lattimer's father, prevailed. But the loser, my grandfather Samuel Westfall, and his followers were welcomed into the fold, promised forgiveness, and granted absolution for their sins.
I have to resist the urge to make gagging noises as I read.
And that is why we have the wedding day. Those who came from the losing side offer up their sixteen-year-old daughters to the sons of the winners. There is a second wedding day in November, when the sons of the losing side marry the daughters of the winning side. But that wedding day is more somber, the nation's most prized daughters forced to marry subpar boys under a bleak winter sky.
The theory behind the practice of the arranged marriages is twofold. There is a practical purpose: people don't live as long as they used to, before the war. And having healthy offspring is a much dicier proposition than in the past. It's important that we procreate, the earlier the better. The second is even more pragmatic. President Lattimer's father was smart enough to know that peace only lasts when the unhappy side still has something left to lose. By marrying our daughters to his side, he ensured we would think twice about rising up. It's one thing to slay your enemy; it's another thing entirely when that enemy wears your daughter's face, when the man you cut down is your own grandson. The strategy has worked thus far; we have remained at peace for two generations.
It is hot in the rotunda, even with the doors open and the cool limestone walls. A small bead of sweat slides down the back of my neck and I wipe it away, pushing my hair up again as I do. Callie did her best to twist it into submission, but my hair is thick and unruly and I don't think it cooperated as she would have liked. The girl to my right gives me a smile. "It looks good," she says. "Pretty."
"Thank you," I say. She has a crown of sad yellow roses in her red hair, the petals already withering in the heat.
"It's my second year," the girl whispers. "My last chance."
If you aren't matched with anyone your sixteenth year, you are put back into the pool for the next year. This also happens on years when there aren't enough girls to match with all the available boys, or visa versa, to give everyone the best chance of finding a match. If after two tries you aren't matched, then you are free to marry someone of your own choice who has similarly never been chosen. Or, if you're a woman, you can apply for a job as a nurse or teacher. Men, married and unmarried alike, work. Once women are married, they are expected to stay home and have babies, so traditional "female" jobs are filled with the ranks of the unmatched.
"Good luck," I tell the girl, although personally I don't think not finding a match would be such a terrible fate. But I know it will not be mine. My name has been in an envelope ever since Callie's was removed. There is no suspense for me. The other girls here today have the benefit of personality tests and endless interviews so that there is at least the possibility of compatibility with their new husbands. With me, all that matters is my last name.
"Thanks," the girl says. "I know who you are. My dad's pointed your dad out to me before."
I don't respond. I turn my eyes back to the stage, where the curtain is beginning to rustle. I take a deep breath in through my nose, let it out slowly through my mouth.
A man approaches the podium at the side of the stage. He looks nervous, glancing from the audience to President Lattimer and back again. "Ladies and gentlemen," he calls. His voice breaks on the last syllable and there is a smattering of laughter from the room. He clears his throat and tries again. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to celebrate the marriages of the eligible young men from Eastglen and the lovely ladies from Westside. Their unions represent the best our small nation has to offer and symbolize the peace we have fought for and achieved together." It's not always this same man, but it's always this same speech, so sad and ridiculous I am torn between laughter and tears.
The redheaded girl next to me clasps her hands together so tightly her knuckles turn white, her toe tapping a nervous rhythm against the floor. The man at the podium gestures to someone offstage who I cannot see, and slowly the curtain begins to move to one side. It screeches on the metal pole, a long, high shriek that sets my teeth on edge. The first boys to be revealed fidget nervously, taking their hands in and out of their pockets, rocking on their heels. A small, dark-haired boy who looks more twelve than sixteen is suffering from a fit of giggles, tucking his chin into his chest while his shoulders heave. I am glad, at least, that he won't be mine.
They've put the one who will be mine right in the middle, so much taller than the other boys that they seem to flow out from him like water from a rock. He doesn't even look like a boy compared to them, which makes sense given his age. At eighteen, he's two years older than everyone else, but it's more than just his years. I'm not convinced he's ever been boyish. There is a gravity about him that none of the others possess. He does not fidget. I cannot imagine him giggling. His gaze is fixed — cool, impassive, and faintly amused — on some spot in the distance. He does not so much as glance at me.
He should have stood here two years ago. He was meant for Callie all along. But the day before the ceremony, we were notified that he was not attending, would not marry until he turned eighteen, and that it would be me standing next to him on that day, not my sister. Such whims are indulged, I suppose, when you're the president's son. As a consolation prize, Callie was given the option of having her name removed as a potential bride in the marriage ceremony. An option she took and one I wish were mine.
"Oh my God," the redhead breathes, glancing at me. "You are so lucky!"
I know she means well and I try to smile at her, but my lips don't want to cooperate. The man at the podium turns things over to the president's wife, Mrs. Erin Lattimer. She is auburn-haired and full-figured in the way that makes men's eyes follow her wherever she goes. But her voice is tart, cold even. It reminds me of the first bite of a sour green apple.
"As you all know," she says, "I will read the name of a boy, who will step forward. I will then open the envelope and read the name of the girl who will be his wife." She looks down at us. "Please come onto the stage when your name is called. If, at the end, your name is not called, it simply means the committee determined you weren't a good match for any of the boys this year." She gives us a brisk smile. "There's no shame in that," she says, "of course." But it is shameful not to be chosen; everyone knows that. No one ever says it out loud, but it's always the girl's fault if she's not matched to anyone. Always something in her that was found lacking, never the other way around.
The first name called is Luke Allen. He's blond, with a spray of freckles across his nose like brown sugar. His eyes widen briefly as Mrs. Lattimer tears open the envelope with his name written across the front and pulls out the creamy card stock. "Emily Thorne," she calls. There is rustling behind me, excited murmurings, and I turn my head. A petite, toffee-haired girl slides past the knees of the girls seated in her row. She stumbles a bit on her way up the stairs to the stage, and Luke hurries forward to take her hand. Some of the girls behind me sigh as if this is the grandest romantic gesture they've ever seen, and I will my eyes to stay still in their sockets. Luke and Emily stand awkwardly, giving each other sidelong glances, until they are shooed to the edge of the stage so the next couple can be announced.
It takes what feels like hours to get through the thick stack of envelopes. And even then there are plenty of girls left sitting, including the one next to me. Tears slide down her cheeks as Mrs. Lattimer holds up the final envelope. I want to tell her to be glad, to be happy that she can go back home tonight and figure out what she wants to do with her life beyond being a bride. But I know my words will be cold comfort. Because all anyone will ever remember about this girl is that she came home unmarried, that at the end of the day she was unchosen.
(Continues...)Excerpted from The Book of Ivy by Amy Engel, Alycia Tornetta, Stacy Abrams. Copyright © 2014 Amy Engel. Excerpted by permission of Entangled Publishing, LLC.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Product details
- Publisher : Entangled: Teen (November 11, 2014)
- Language : English
- Paperback : 304 pages
- ISBN-10 : 1622664655
- ISBN-13 : 978-1622664658
- Reading age : 12 - 18 years
- Lexile measure : HL770L
- Grade level : 7 - 9
- Item Weight : 10.4 ounces
- Dimensions : 5.55 x 0.87 x 8.22 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #959,353 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #2,237 in Teen & Young Adult Dystopian
- #2,795 in Teen & Young Adult Science Fiction & Dystopian Romance
- #34,461 in Teen & Young Adult Literature & Fiction
- Customer Reviews:
About the author
Amy Engel is the author of THE FAMILIAR DARK, THE ROANOKE GIRLS, and THE BOOK OF IVY series. A former criminal defense attorney, she lives in Missouri with her family.
Customer reviews
Customer Reviews, including Product Star Ratings help customers to learn more about the product and decide whether it is the right product for them.
To calculate the overall star rating and percentage breakdown by star, we don’t use a simple average. Instead, our system considers things like how recent a review is and if the reviewer bought the item on Amazon. It also analyzed reviews to verify trustworthiness.
Learn more how customers reviews work on AmazonReviews with images
-
Top reviews
Top reviews from the United States
There was a problem filtering reviews right now. Please try again later.
I am blown away by how much I enjoyed this novel! The Book of Ivy is Romeo and Juliet meets dystopian, and it is sure to be a major hit! Everything about this novel was great, from the characters to the interesting setting, to the original dystopian world that Ms. Engel created. I easily was swept away by the story, and honestly I must say, Ms. Engel you are simply a brilliant writer! I never wanted to stop reading this, and every time I would say, Just 1 more chapter, I just kept going until I finished. Everything is nicely explained, and you are never confused while reading. This is relatively short (less than 300 pages- yeah that's short in my book haha), so it's definitely a quick read. Nevertheless, this story is one non-stop thrill ride from beginning to end, and you will never be bored. The only reason I gave this 4.5 instead of 5 stars is because I wish I could have read from Bishop's POV. I think this story would have worked very well in dual perspective, but this is more of a personal preference than anything actually wrong with the book.
Ivy is the granddaughter of Westfall (aka the losing side) founder, and as per tradition in their community, is being married at the ripe old age of 16 to a boy from the winning side. This is a custom done to maintain the peace in the community, however as you can expect, Ivy isn't the least bit happy...especially because she knows who she is going to marry. The lucky boy is Bishop Lattimer. While Bishop specifically asked to marry Ivy (therefore passing over her sister who should have originally married him), Ivy has a major secret. She must kill Bishop to aid her father and sister in their plan to regain power in Westfall. Oh so easy right? Wrong. And you will see why.
The characters were one of the highlights of this book because while Ivy might seem very plain and simple, she is truly a complex character. I greatly enjoyed reading about her, as she was a fantastic, realistic, and relatable female lead. When the story opened up, I wasn't totally sure I was going to love her character, but she quickly proved me wrong, and I absolutely loved her. I could feel every emotion she was going through- the ups and downs she was faced with after marrying Bishop and still trying to live up to her family's expectations. You will easily fall for Bishop, as the guy is simply swoonworthy. He never gives up on Ivy, and realizes how difficult the situation is for her to be marrying a person she doesn't know in the slightest. Bishop never pushes her, and I greatly respected him for it. Just as Ivy discovered, Bishop is much different than anyone thinks, and he was a refreshing addition to the story.
The plot is extremely thrilling and exciting. I just couldn't get enough! Ms. Engel definitely knows how to write a story that will keep readers enthralled, and to know that this is her debut novel, I am simply stunned. She writes with a skill of a seasoned author, and you would never expect that this is her first novel! There are some major twists and turns, and a heartbreaking ending that will leave you begging for more. There isn't really a cliffhanger, but trust me on this, you won't want to wait a whole year for the next book.
I highly recommend this book for anyone who likes dystopian novels as it is original and extremely creative. This is definitely going to be a major hit, and I can't wait to see what Ms. Engel has in store for us next!
Happy reading :)
The book starts out by laying the foundation of the world the characters live in, and it’s very similar to a ton of other apocalyptic stuff – the earth basically went down the drain and somehow humanity managed to rise up from the ashes and construct a society out of a few raw materials and whatever was left of us after most of the population died out. It sounds pretty bleak; however this book does not spend a lot of time on explaining how said world blew up, but instead focuses on who took charge afterward. There was a major division between two families: the Lattimers and the Westfalls. Each had their own ideas of how their civilization should be governed, and it boiled down to who got to the guns and weaponry first. In short, the Lattimers won, not the Westfalls (and they were pretty bitter about it). And that’s basically the driving force in this story.
Obviously, the novel centers on Ivy, the main character, a Westfall who has agreed to take part in a plan that will eventually put her family back in power. Her father is ultimately behind it all, but Ivy goes along with everything he says because she wishes to please him and she hates the Lattimers for killing her mother (the president in particular). I really liked Ivy as a narrator, most of the time. She felt extremely down-to-earth and relatable to me; she had a lot of flaws, but all of them were understandable and exactly how I imagine I would feel in her shoes. She’s unsure about most of the things she does and constantly second guesses herself. Her main goal is to murder her husband, Bishop, and it was terribly awkward for her to pretend to want to be around him while remaining detached inside. Ivy simply has too much empathy to be that emotionally distant, and I found her extremely endearing for that.
I really enjoyed the pacing in this book – the writing itself had that addictive quality about it that made it hard to put down. It’s actually on the short side, so it’s not hard to speed through. Although the secondary characters weren’t extremely fleshed out, I still liked most of them. Victoria probably could have been a really good friend to Ivy with more time, and I liked the icy personality of Mrs. Lattimer, Bishop’s mother. She felt like the real villain in all of this. I enjoyed the relationship between Ivy and her family – I could never really tell how deep their affections actually ran. I was certain that her father and sister were using her and extended kindness to get what they wanted, but I kind of hoped that somewhere deep down they cared for her more than they really did.
The romance in this novel is beautiful – I honestly didn’t expect to love it so much. There are arranged marriages in this society, to encourage population growth, and Bishop and Ivy are paired in this way. They were completely awkward with each other at first, but they started talking and things took off from there. Bishop was genuinely interested in Ivy as a person and treated her with respect and kindness. He’s got a very laid-back personality, and he takes his time thinking things through. He’s loyal and nice, but he can also stand up for himself and take charge when necessary. Bishop is just an all-around good guy, the type of person who you’d want to meet in real life. (view spoiler) And I was surprised I liked him so much, because honestly I get a little bored with his type sometimes. But no, Bishop was completely swoon-worthy. (view spoiler)
I felt like the end came rather quickly – one second everything was fine and then bam, conflict. In that respect, I wouldn’t have minded if The Book of Ivy had been just a little longer. But if wishing for more is the worst complaint you have about a book, you know it was good. I’m definitely excited for the sequel to come out later this year.
4 stars
Top reviews from other countries
5 Ginormous Stars!!
Une fois concentrée sur l'histoire, j'ai réalisé que la couverture du livre et le slogan étaient un peu trompeur. En effet, je m'attendais à ce qu'Ivy soit un vrai ninja entrainée toute sa vie pour tuer. Qu'elle ne fut pas ma surprise lorsque je constate qu'Ivy est une adolescente de 16 ans ordinaire dont l'investissement dans sa mission vacille à la première heure. J'aurais pu être déçue et pourtant je ne le suis pas.
J'estime qu'une adolescente de cet âge doit maintenir un brin d'innocence et je m'attends à ce qu'elle trouve la moindre opportunité pour remettre en question la mission terrible qui lui a été confiée presque contre sa volonté ou sa nature. Bien qu'elle ait un caractère bien trempée, Ivy n'en demeure pas moins douce et foncièrement bienveillante. Sa loyauté pour son père Justin Westfall et sa sœur Callie est très noble mais un poids horrible pour une jeune femme si jeune.
Bishop Lattimer est un personnage attachant car il apparait objectivement parfait. Il est gentil, intelligent, perspicace, patient, beau garçon et pense par lui-même. Il traite Ivy avec respect et sincérité. L'auteur rythme avec exactitude la relation de nos personnages principaux. Rien n'est précipité et cela rend leur attachement l'un pour l'autre d'autant plus réel et touchant.
Les croyances d'Ivy sont malmenées entre sa famille qui la manipule sans subtilité et Bishop qui prouve encore et encore qu'il n'a aucune intention malveillante à son égard. THE BOOK OF IVY est une lecture agréable, qui se dévore sans faim, qui pose les bases d'une intrigue intéressante et abordable, qui n'épargne pas les sensibilités (le livre aborde le meurtre, le viol, la violence conjugale...) et qui capture notre attention et notre cœur. Autant vous dire que je me suis précipitée sur la suite et que la prochaine critique sera bel et bien THE REVOLUTION OF IVY. Notre finale : 5/5.
Bishop is instantly endearing, even more so as the plot develops. Ivy was immature at times, but like-able all the same. Her sister and father are despicable human-beings who manipulate Ivy and try to turn her into a pawn in their political game. I hated both of them with a passion.
I was conflicted by events at the end - how Ivy could believe her actions were the only way to save Bishop was beyond me. However, she is only 16 and I understand that she felt trapped.
I enjoyed Amy's writing style and the book flowed smoothly.
I can't wait to see how this progresses in the next book. Well worth a read.
Amy Engel schreibt in klaren, ruhigen Sätzen, versucht nicht besonders wortgewandt oder dramatisch zu sein und schafft es trotzdem in wenigen Worten Gefühle und Situationen zu beschreiben, die mitreißen, die nachdenklich machen, die einen lächeln oder das Herz höher schlagen lassen. In dieser Hinsicht hat es mich irgendwie an Lauren Oliver's "Delirium" erinnert, nur dass es einfach viel besser geschrieben war. Zugegeben, ich bin wohl eine der wenigen, die mit "Delirium" einfach nichts anfangen konnte. Ich fand es langatmig und zu bemüht und die Protagonistin hat mich wahnsinnig gemacht, weil sie bis fast zum Ende eigentlich nur reagiert und nie agiert hat und praktisch keinen eigenständigen Gedanken fassen konnte (ganz zu schweigen von dem furchtbaren Ende, bei dem sie wirklich als feige und selbstsüchtig rüberkam).
"The Book of Ivy" dagegen behandelt ähnliche Themen (das Recht auf Selbstbestimmung, der Kampf gegen Unterdrückung, die Erkenntnis, dass man Liebe nicht unterdrücken kann), aber Ivy ist trotz der Manipulation, der sie ausgesetzt ist, von Anfang an ein starker Charakter, der Dinge in Frage stellt und nicht den Kopf in den Sand steckt. Sie ist manchmal impulsiv, aber nie rücksichtlos, intelligent und voller Neugier und es ist spannend zu beobachten wie sie im Laufe der Geschichte als Charakter wächst. Am Ende trifft sie eine Entscheidung, die vielleicht falsch ist, aber sie tut es aus Liebe und beweißt großen Mut und dafür habe ich sie sehr bewundert.
Bishop habe ich sofort ins Herz geschlossen. Obwohl Ivy ihm zuerst (aus gutem Grund) nicht recht traut, war mir schnell klar, was für ein toller Mensch er ist. Er weiß, wer er ist, ist selbstbewußt ohne arrogant zu sein, liebenswürdig, großherzig und geduldig. Er unterstützt Ivy von Anfang an, versucht ihr ihre Ängste zu nehmen und ermutigt sie, sich ihre eigene Meinung zu bilden. In Büchern mag ich Bad Boys ja ganz gerne. Aber Bishop ist jemand, den ich mir als junges Mädchen auch im wirklichen Leben gewünscht hätte. Er ist an Ivy als Persönlichkeit interessiert, möchte eine Partnerin und nicht nur jemanden, der ihm Kinder gebärt und den Haushalt führt.
Zusammen sind die beiden einfach perfekt. Im Laufe der Story erkennen sie, wie viel sie gemeinsam haben (beide hatten keine offensichtlich schlimme Kindheit und haben doch nie bedingungslose Liebe von ihren Eltern erfahren) und dass sie endlich den Menschen gefunden haben, bei dem sie einfach sie selbst sein können. Die sich langsam aufbauende Romanze war für mich persönlich der beste Aspekt des Buches. Jedes Wort hat gepasst, jede Szene zwischen den beiden war bedeutungsvoll und einfach nur schön.
Ich habe das Buch innerhalb von 2 Tagen gelesen und am liebsten würde ich gleich nochmal von vorne anfangen. Ich habe jede Sekunde geliebt und kann nicht glauben, dass ich jetzt ein Jahr auf den nächsten Band warten muss! Das Ende war dramatisch und hat mir wirklich die Tränen in die Augen getrieben. Aber es war auch passend und richtig (wer allerdings keine Cliffhanger mag, sollte warten bis alle Bände raus sind). Ich würde es aber jederzeit sofort wieder kaufen und bin kein bißchen traurig, dass ich mich zu diesem Spontankauf habe hinreißen lassen! Unbedingt lesen!