"Romantic, suspenseful, and witty all at onceAlice in Wonderland meets Neverwhere."Claudia Gray, New York Times bestselling author of the Evernight series
In Selkie's family, you don't celebrate birthdays. You don't talk about birthdays. And you never, ever reveal your birth date.
On Selkie's seventeenth birthday, Selkie finally understands why. All she wanted a simple "Happy Birthday" from her secret crush, Ben. But the instant she blurts out the truth, her whole world shatters.
Because the world she's known is only an elaborate enchantment designed to conceal the truth: Selkie is a half-faerie princess. And her mother wants her dead.
The faerie court believes Selkie is a child of prophecyfated to destroy the court's powerful grip on the supernatural world. And the only way for Selkie to survive...is to prove them right.
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One day, my father walked into his Back Bay apartment to find a blond woman asleep on his couch. Nine months later, I appeared on his doorstep. One year later, my aunts succeeded in getting him committed to a psychiatric hospital.
This is how the story of my birth goes.
My father says my mother was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. I always ask how she ended up on his couch. Where did she come from? I ask. Why was she there? Did you know her? My father always looks at me vaguely. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen, he tells me, and then he tells me the story of my name. Selkie, he says. She told me to name you Selkie. And I ask, How did she tell you? And he replies, She etched it into a snowflake, sighed it into a gust of wind, rustled it through the trees of autumn, rippled it over a summer pond.
And my aunts sigh and say, That's enough.
And when I ask my aunts about my mother, all they will ever say is that she was "flighty."
When I was little, I used to think maybe my mother would come to take me away. Aunt True and Aunt Virtue aren't exactly my aunts. They are my dad's aunts, making them my great-aunts, and therefore old-older than I could pinpoint when I was young. Now that I'm older, I know that they're older than my dad, but I can't quite figure out exactly how much older. Dad was their little brother's only child, I know, but the dates of births in my family are fuzzy. Who wants to remember how old they are? Aunt True asks me. I have never had a birthday party. Or an acknowledgment of my birthday. But I do have a birthday.
It is today.
I am sitting on Boston Common, watching the tourists get lost and the leaves fall, and I am thinking. The Common is the huge park in the middle of Boston. The story I have always been told is that it was originally a cow pasture and that the paved paths meandering through it follow the original cow paths, and I believe that; there is an aimlessness to them. I like that about Boston Common. I like that the place feels like it has no discernible purpose, in this age without cows. It is unnecessary, a frivolity in the middle of the city, prime real estate that isn't even landscaped, really, is just basic grass and some scattered trees. It is a place that just is, and I have always found, sprawled on the ground and looking at the buildings that crowd around it, that it is the perfect place to think.
I am, according to my birth certificate, seventeen today. I don't know whether or not to believe my birth certificate, though, honestly. Some days I feel that I must be much older than seventeen and that somebody got it all wrong: my addle-minded father or my aunts who don't keep track of dates. And some days I feel much younger than seventeen, like a small child, and I just want my mother.
I feel that way now.
I am thinking of my mother, of how I am told I resemble her. I have never seen her photograph, so all I can do is study myself in the mirror and draw conclusions from there. Tall, I suppose, the way I am tall. Slender the way I am slender. It must be from her that I get my pale skin that resists all of my efforts to get it to tan, since my aunts and father have naturally olive complexions. It must be from her that I get my blue eyes, my blond hair so light that it can be white in certain lights. I wear my hair long, and I wonder if my mother did-if she does still, wherever she is.
"Hey," says Ben, interrupting my thoughts. Ben works at one of the stands scattered through the Common. On hot summer days, Ben makes fresh-squeezed lemonade that he gives me for free. He brings it to me while I lie on the grass in the heat and read books and tell him what they're about. Now, at the time of year when it can be summer or winter both in the same day, Ben makes lemonade or sells sweatshirts, as the mood strikes him. It must be sweatshirts today, because he's brought me one, and he drops it playfully on top of my head, draped so that it momentarily obscures my vision.
I feel like I have known Ben all my life, but that's not true. I just can't remember the first time I met him is the problem. I have always come to the Common to be alone, alone among the strangers, and Ben has always been in the background of life on the Common. I don't know when we started speaking to each other, when he started bringing me lemonade, when we learned each other's names. It all just happened, the way good things just happen without having to be forced. Ben is-I think-older than me in a way that always makes me feel very young, but I don't think he does it on purpose, the way the college guys do when we cross paths on the T, Boston's sprawling and ever-crowded subway system. Ben is effortlessly older than me. He is tall-taller than me-and thin-maybe thinner than me too, honestly-and has a lot of thick, dark, curly hair and very pale eyes whose color I can never quite pinpoint, and for a little while now, I have been ignoring the attention of Mike Summerton at school because there is Ben. But I don't think Ben is thinking that way, and what's really kind of annoying is that, in a relationship where I don't ever remember even having to tell Ben my name, why should I have to tell him that we're kind of dating, even if he doesn't know it and has never kissed me? He should just know, the way he knew I'd like lemonade and that I was cold and needed a sweatshirt.
"What are you up to?" he asks me, dropping to the leaf-strewn grass next to me. Ben moves with an absentminded elegance. When he drops to the ground, it almost feels like he floats his way down. It sounds weird, but it's the only way I can think to describe it: a soft, fluttering quality to the way Ben moves. It is, trust me, very appealing. Ben never clumsily plops to the ground beside me. Ben always sort of sinks there. And you get the feeling, watching Ben move, that everything he does is very deliberate, no motion wasted. It makes it terribly flattering when he uses those deliberate, studied motions to come talk to you-terribly flattering and the slightest bit annoying. I am not known for my grace. Not that I'm the clumsiest person ever, but let's just say I know I'm never going to be a ballerina. My aunts say that I move with "Stewart stubbornness," trying to refuse to yield to hard objects or even gravity at times-that that is one thing, at least, that I did not inherit from my mother. I guess I have to take their word for it. In my head, whenever I imagine her, my "flighty" mother moves so fluidly she could be floating.
"It's wet," Ben says of the grass, and he crinkles his nose in displeasure, shaking his hands like a fastidious cat and all of his motions are so beautifully choreographed that he is painful to look at.
"Yeah," I reply, as if Ben is not painful for me to look at and is just a regular friend, hanging out on the Common with me.
Ben shrugs and takes the sweatshirt out of my hands.
"Hey," I protest as he puts it on the ground and sits on it. "I was going to wear that."
"You know I hate to be wet," he says. And he does. I do know this. He wraps the cups of lemonade he sells in thickets of napkins to keep condensation away from his hands. He complains vociferously whenever it rains. He has sixteen different ways of fending off dampness. I always ask him why he lives in Boston and sells things outside if he hates the rain so much; it rains here a lot. And Ben always shrugs. Ben shrugs in response to lots of things. Like whenever I ask him why he doesn't go to school. He is-I think-too old for high school, although he never confirms this. But why not college then? One of the two hundred colleges in the Boston area?
And Ben shrugs.
"Today is my birthday," I blurt out. I don't know why I say it just then. I never tell anyone my birthday. I expect Aunt True and Aunt Virtue to come running out of the townhouse to scold me about how polite people never reveal such personal information.
But nobody comes dashing across Beacon Street. The piano player outside the entrance to the T plays something tinkling and tuneless. Ben says, "Happy birthday." He does not ask me how old I am. I am glad for that. It seems weird to say that I'm seventeen when I feel so much younger than that. Then he says, "It's the autumnal equinox. You were born on the autumnal equinox."
"Not really. Well, I don't know. The autumnal equinox is different every year."
I want to tell him that I would like to find my mother.
Kelsey is my best friend. She has never been inside my house though. I don't allow anybody inside my house. The air in that house shouldn't be disturbed by outside people. Aunt True and Aunt Virtue wouldn't even know how to address a new person. They have been talking to the same people for centuries it feels like. "A proper Bostonian never talks to strangers," they tell me, and their definition of stranger means "every person on the planet except the four people we know." Life on Beacon Hill, for a certain type of Bostonian, has not changed in hundreds of years. Sometimes I think it will never change.
But today...today I think maybe change is right around the corner. I feel like even the air I'm breathing feels lighter.
Kelsey is waiting for me on the sidewalk, and I jump over the last two front steps to meet her. This is not really like me, and she lifts her eyebrows.
"I have a good feeling," I tell her.
She smiles. "Good. Me too." Kelsey always has a good feeling when we are about to go on what she considers to be an adventure. Kelsey likes adventures. She would have started looking for her mother ages ago had she been in my position. She adjusts the bag slung over her shoulder and tips her chin in the direction of the Common. "Let's go," she says.
My house sits right on Beacon Street, on the very outer edge of the higgledy-piggledy, charm-personified area of Boston known as Beacon Hill, a place whose very streets were literally designed to try to keep the less desirable element out, set out in a rabbit warren that only those with the right breeding were supposed to know how to navigate. It seems strange to me, quaint, an entire neighborhood built so defensively, as if preparing for an invasion from the rest of the city. Beacon Hill is full of ancient brick townhouses that all hug each other, tipping drunkenly against each other on the unsteady land of a hill that was halved in height at one point so that its dirt could form the rest of the city. My house is no different, with unnecessarily large doors and dramatic, curved walls. Like the very poshest of the Beacon Hill houses, some of the windowpanes are the distinctive lavender that dates back centuries, to a defective shipment of glass once unknowingly used in Boston Brahmin Beacon Hill homes. The panes, months after installation, revealed a tendency to turn lavender in the sun and became the best sort of accidental status symbol. For a little while, there were imitation lavender panes all over Boston, none ever quite managing to duplicate the particular Beacon Hill shade. The fad for imitation eventually fell out of fashion. Now only a few of the originals remain, and tourists walk up and down the busy and chaotic thoroughfare of Beacon Street, almost getting hit by cars as they dart into traffic to get a better angle on our front windows. I feel sometimes like I live in a museum from the number of people constantly loitering around my front stoop.
We glance left and right before crossing Beacon Street, but without much interest: Boston pedestrians walk protected by the confidence that motorists would rather stop than face the lawsuit if they killed you. Once across the two lanes of traffic, we are directly on the Common. It is no surprise I considered it my front yard when I was growing up and no surprise that we have no outdoor area to our home. Why would you need one with so many empty acres right in front of you, kindly maintained by the city? My aunts have beautiful window boxes-another Beacon Hill necessity-but that is their only concession to nature. And they don't even take care of them, hiring out their care to gardeners. "Our kind does not garden," my aunts always say, ever the proper Bostonians.
Kelsey and I walk through the Common to the T station. It's windy, as usual, and Kelsey's hair is whipping in front of her face.
She sighs, pushing hair out of her mouth. "I should have thought to bring an elastic."
"Oh," I say and pull a rubber band out of my pocket and hand it to her.
"How clean is it?" she asks dubiously.
"I found it in with my aunts' yarn the other day," I assure her.
"I don't know what I would do without you," remarks Kelsey. "It's like having my own personal genie. If I didn't have you, I'd have to, like, remember things on my own."
I don't bother to say anything. I can't help the habit I have of pocketing random things, and lots of times it comes in handy, like now.
Kelsey takes the rubber band and pulls her blond hair briskly back into a ponytail.
I look around for Ben, but I don't see him. I almost never see Ben when I'm not alone. Sometimes I wonder if he hides from me. Sometimes I wonder if he's a figment of my imagination. I've never told anyone about Ben, not even Kelsey. It's weird. For all I consider Kelsey my best friend, there's so much about my life I feel I can't tell her-can't tell anyone. My antiquated aunts in their time-frozen home seem too rarefied to be discussed with Kelsey, who exists for me in such a normal world. These are the worlds I straddle-home and high school-and it's hard for me to get the two to intersect. Football games and study hall and prom-I can't fit them into the other pieces of my life. And Ben exists in still another world, a world all his own for me, neither school nor home but a special slice of life. I could tell Kelsey about him, but somehow I feel like he would be less mine then. Which is both silly and selfish, but I can't help it. I have never told Kelsey about Ben, and I don't mention him now.
We get to the Park Street subway station. The T worker keeping guard at the turnstile frowns at us, so I make sure to make a big show of swiping my card. The T is always freaking out about non-paying riders. Sometimes they're so strident, you'd think they were fighting a war or something.
"And they'll just let you look up information about your mother?" Kelsey asks me as we head toward the Red Line platform. The Red Line will take us into Dorchester, where the Registry of Vital Records is, the object of our mission today. I am determined to learn everything I can about my mother. I've asked Kelsey along because I don't want to be alone, and Kelsey is always game for an outing.
Someone steps in front of me, and I have to concentrate on darting around them. This is always happening at Park Street. There are always too many tourists around, all of them lost, all of them wandering around so confusingly aimlessly that they seem to pop up out of nowhere. Walking through Park Street station requires as much concentration as driving a car.
"Well," I reply, having completed my darting maneuver. "They're public records. Why shouldn't I be allowed to see them?"
"I don't know," she says. "If it was this easy, why didn't you ever do it before?"
Frankly, sometimes even I can barely understand my motives for the things I do. This used to frighten my aunts. I learned to cover whenever I found myself doing something inexplicable, like dancing to nonexistent music in my room or trying to read the language of dust motes. This is probably why I haven't mentioned to them my latest determination to find my mother. Well, that and the fact that my aunts obviously didn't like my mother.
To Kelsey I say, "I don't know. I'm seventeen now. I guess it's time."
"Seventeen?" exclaims Kelsey in delight. "Did you have a birthday? You should have told me! We could have celebrated!"
I take the Ben route and shrug.
Kelsey is silent a moment before saying, "But...why seventeen? What's the big deal about seventeen? Sixteen I could see, or eighteen. But seventeen's just...seventeen. Nothing big, nothing exciting. Just an in-between age."
I don't know what to say to that. Seventeen seems like a huge deal to me.
The Red Line gets stalled underground for a bit, which is not at all an unusual occurrence, but we eventually reach Dorchester. Dorchester is a decidedly different part of Boston than where I live. Everything about Boston can seem vaguely faded-it is a very old city by American standards-but Beacon Hill is so faded that it has come full circle to being fashionable again. There was a time period when modernizing Bostonians wanted to tear down Beacon Hill, all the lovely old homes with their lavender windowpanes, in favor of a new residential area with all the conveniences, like places for automobiles and electrical systems that weren't fire hazards. The less-modernizing Bostonians, Bostonians like my aunts, resisted the entire idea, and Beacon Hill survived its shabbiest era more or less intact, the same as it had been for ages, only the barest concessions to the passage of time, to emerge today as the type of place that gets thrown onto postcards.
Dorchester is at the point in time when modernizing Bostonians wish to tear it down and start from scratch, and Dorchester doesn't have proper Bostonian inhabitants to insist upon its unchanging preservation, so some of that has happened. In among the older, rundown buildings are gleaming new ones, like the Registry of Vital Records. I don't like new buildings in Boston; they make you wince, like hearing a sour note in a song. The streets are also wide enough that cars easily fit down them, and you could be anywhere in America with streets like that. I don't feel at home here. I may be only seventeen-already seventeen?-but I'm most at home in the places where seventeen-year-olds were at home, like, two centuries ago.
The accents are at least comfortingly Boston, as proven by the woman at the front desk.
"I'm looking for information about my mother," I tell her, pushing across my identification.
The woman smiles at me kindly. "Okay. And what was her name?"
"Faye Blaxton," I say and spell the name for her. I know that much from my birth certificate.
The woman types into her computer. Then she looks back at me. "Was she born in Massachusetts?" she asks me.
"I don't know," I admit. "Maybe not."
The woman does some more typing-and then frowns a bit. "I can't find anyone by that name. At least, not in the right time period to be your mother. You're sure it's the correct name? And the correct spelling?"
I'm sure. But, just in case, I have her look up my birth certificate, and there is my mother's name on it, plain as day. Faye Blaxton.
"It could be a glitch in the system," says the nice woman at the desk. "A typo maybe. Or something."
"Yeah," I agree glumly. I don't want to sound glum. I want to sound like it's no big deal that I can't find my mother. I've done okay without her so far, haven't I? But I'd thought, well, that it'd be simple. Oh, Faye Blaxton, she lives out in Malden. And then, maybe, I would know that she'd never bothered to check in on her daughter, but I would also know that she existed.
"It's a dead end, maybe," says Kelsey when we leave, "but there are other avenues to explore!" Kelsey is all big-picture enthusiasm, which I know is for my benefit. "What do you know about your mother?"
One day my father walked into his Back Bay apartment to find a blond woman asleep on his couch. I can't say that. "Not much," I say. And then, truthfully, after a pause, "My aunts say she was flighty." I know my aunts mean it as a negative, but when I was little, I always had the impression that it meant my mother could fly, that she had deposited me on that Back Bay doorstep and then soared into the never-ending sky.
"Your aunts knew her, then," says Kelsey.
"No," I reply. "Not really. Well, I don't know, actually. I think to them she's just a woman who left her baby on a doorstep."
"Wait, she really did that?" Kelsey asks.
I look at her in confusion because I've told her at least this much about myself, my family, my past. "Yeah."
"I thought you meant that figuratively. Like, that you just meant your mom gave you up or something. She literally left you on a doorstep?"
I nod. With a note. A note etched into a snowflake, sighed into a gust of wind, rustled through the trees of autumn, rippled over a summer pond.
"Well," says Kelsey. And then she doesn't say anything else.
We get on the T. This time there are no delays, but I feel like people watch me the whole way, like it must be common knowledge, written all over me: I am the girl who has no mother.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Lovely, enchanting The Girl Who Never Was was a wonderful YA read. I really liked this book. From the sweet romance, to the thrills and all those buried secrets, this book was great. Selkie was a good heroine. She was tougher than those who were protecting her gave her credit for and she was unfailingly loyal to the people she cared about. And, she definitely became stronger over the course of the book. Overall, I liked her. Ben was a total sweetie. Strong, clever, and completely devoted to keeping Selkie safe. I can't wait to see more of him in book 2, but after the way this one ended, we'll have to see how that works out. The romance was very sweet. Even though Selkie and Ben were apart for most of the book, their feelings for each other were always clear. I loved how they were both determined to save each other. I thought they were a lovely couple. I had one issue with this book, but it was an issue that affected ever part of the book. I wanted more. From everything. I wanted to see and get to know the characters more, particularly Selkie and Ben who, despite being the two main characters, I still didn't get to know all that well. I wanted more explanation into the world of the fae and how exactly the whole enchantment worked and just more detail about it in general. I wanted more from the plot, to go deeper into the story and to have it flow better, because it had a tendency to switch gears in a second and I would be left slightly confused. In general, I felt like a barely skimmed the surface of the story and the characters. This issue didn't ruin the book, but it kept it from going from a good book, to an amazing book. The plot was well paced and I was kept interested the entire way through. There were tons of thrills and plenty of secrets that kept me engaged. I really enjoyed the story and the ending has me curious about what will happen next. Definitely excited for book 2! The Girl Who Never Was was a wonderful YA fantasy romance. I really liked this lovely book. The romance was sweet, the thrills were constant, the secrets were surprising, and the story was enjoyable. YA lovers, this is a book worth checking out. *I received a complimentary copy from the publisher in exchange for an honest review
This book was so good! It had everything you need or want in a good book! My only other note is that you should wait to read this one until you have the 2nd one to! Cliff hanger!!
Fantastic book. I throughly enjoyed the read. It was fun and entertaining.
The Girl Who Never Was is such a good book! It was so full of suspence that I didn't want to continue reading! I have only 1 question: Is the next book The Boy With the Hidden Name or the other book?
Original Review Link: http://asdreamsaremade.com/2014/06/book-tuesday-the-girl-who-never-was/ Le Sigh. Where to begin with this book. I had such high hopes and they were quickly dashed within the first two chapters. A girl who doesn’t know her true family history? Faeries? Different worlds? Seems right up my alley, but no. It was not meant to be. Selkie lives in Boston with her two eccentric Aunts and her father who is in an insane asylum. The only person besides her best friend, Kelsey, that she can talk to is her enigmatic friend Ben, who hates getting wet. Eventually she finds out that she is the daughter of the Queen of the Seelies and is destined to fulfill an ancient prophesy (or prophesies according to who you ask) that will bring down the Seelie court. Therefore, naturally, all the Seelie fairies want her dead. For literally half the book, Selkie is trying to figure out what is happening and who she is and the reader is right there with her. It was ridiculously confusing. What is the Otherworld? What is Thisworld? and who or what is everybody?! Not until HALFWAY through the novel (I kid you not, I marked it) do you start to understand what she’s actually dealing with. This made it very hard for the reader to become invested in the story. The character development was practically non existent, especially the relationship between Selkie and Ben. Yes, Selkie has had a crush on Ben since forever (which is mentioned in a fleeting comment at the beginning), but then magically he loves her too and when he gets in trouble, she must risk everything to save him? It seemed far fetched and unbelievable. I didn’t see any relationship building or interaction between these two characters that deemed it worthy for her to perform this grand gesture of heroism. (This is one of my major pet peeves in YA literature). What a disappointment, especially since the premise seemed so interesting–a Faerie take on Alice in Wonderland. Unfortunately, the execution of said premise was found wanting.
I first saw this one sitting at the Sourcebooks booth at BEA and after seeing the pretty cover and finding out it involved the fae, I knew I was in. I love books about the fae and even more so when they incorporate the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. The two Courts are fascinating to me, so I was looking forward to seeing how Dorset would put her own spin on the lore. Despite my issues with this one, I did end up liking it overall and am interested in the sequel. I wasn't wowed by this book. In fact even at 31% I felt pretty meh about the book. If I didn't have the sequel to read, I probably would have thrown in the towel then. I have to say, I'm glad I didn't. I was bored for a good portion of the book, as it took so long to get to the good stuff. I understand world building is important, but I almost felt it wasn't the right kind. Yes, it's important to see how Boston is the hotspot to get to the Otherworld, but I could have done without a lot of the history we received. I would have rather Dorset really build up the Otherworld. The story does pick up however, and I found myself wondering how Selkie would get to the Otherworld to save Ben and face off against the mother she's never known... and wants her dead. There is a prophecy that states Selkie is one of four who will bring down the Seelie Court, so that added twist really helped beef up the story also. While the storyline ended up becoming more enjoyable, unfortunately the characterization did not. I found it a bit hard to believe that Selkie just accepts who she is and this new world without a second thought. That always bothers me because if you're going to write a story set during modern times and disrupt a normal life, surely there should be a little freaking out and disbelief that another world with mythic creatures exists! I also wasn't crazy about the romance. I would have preferred more development there to make it believable. Ben is a guy Selkie has been crushing on and is one of her few friends that she looks forward to seeing in Boston Commons. I can understand a crush, but for her to declare feelings of love seemed a bit off, especially since we readers didn't see their interactions prior to the book starting. It was just hard to buy for me. I would have rather seen her falling for Ben. This book didn't quite reach the balance between character and plot development. I felt Dorset was more invested in telling the story than giving the characters' voice. They fell flat for me and where I should have been swooning over Ben, I just didn't. We can see he cares for Selkie, as he has been protecting her and would even risk captivity to do so, but the spark wasn't quite there. While I wasn't blow away by this book, it did intrigue me enough to want to read the sequel. I really liked that Dorset included the lore that names have power and knowing one's full name could destroy their very being. The fae are a very clever and deceitful race, so I am curious as to whether or not Selkie will fulfill the prophecy or if she will be thwarted by someone close to her....
**I received a free copy of this book from Net Galley in exchange for my honest review** 4 stars! Selkie Stewart has heard the story of her birth hundreds of times. It always begins the same – with a mysterious mother – and subsequently ends the same – her father committed to the nut house, her mother has just disappeared, and she lives with her two aunts. She doesn’t have a ton of friends – just Kelsey from her school, and Ben, the vendor in the park that she’s pretty sure she’s in love with, he just doesn’t know it yet. No one except her family knows when her birthday is. It’s not discussed or celebrated, sixteen years has just come and gone without any spectacle. And one day while in the park with Ben, while drinking lemonade, she all of a sudden blurts out that today is her seventeenth birthday…she doesn’t know why she’s all of a sudden decided to tell Ben, but what happens in the days following may be the key to Selkie’s past…and her future. Selkie is forced to realize that her whole life has been an elaborate enchantment (of course created by Ben, who is a Faerie) to keep her safe for the one person that could make her life a living hell, but she is so desperate to find out more about…her mother. See, Selkie’s mother didn’t just disappear – when her aunts described her as “flighty”, it was for a good reason seeing as she’s the Seelie Queen, which makes Selkie a half-Faerie princess. With Ben, Kelsey, Will Blaxton the wizard, and her aunts True and Virtue in tow, Selkie will try to figure out once and for all who she REALLY is and what is the true, and what is not…before it’s too late! This book was a fun, lighthearted book of magic, faeries, adventure, self-discovery, and a touch of romance. While the story was constantly moving along at a good pace, sometimes something one of the characters would say would just seem really out of place – now, let me preface this by saying, I get this is about faeries, and the crazy ways they talk and act – it just felt like some parts we at a bit of a disconnect. That being said, I enjoyed how Selkie was forced to start looking at the world a different way, as she ventured and discovered things about herself and her family. All in all, it was an enjoyable, clean story that I am looking forward to seeing what the next book in the series will bring for Selkie, her family, and friends.
What first caught my eye for author Skylar Dorset’s The Girl Who Never Was had to be the gorgeous cover. Who wouldn’t be curious after looking at that? And then the description of The Girl Who Never Was definitely had me sold. I had to get reading and know what events would unfold. What I can say about The Girl Who Never Was is that this novel was not at all what I expected to be—and I mean that in a good way. It is imaginative and a new twist of the fairy-side of the supernatural genre. Seventeen-year-old Selkie knows only a few things about her mother. The first being that she first met Selkie’s father when he discovered her asleep on his couch. The second, that Selkie’s mother abandoned her on her father’s doorstep when she was a baby. Now Selkie’s father isn’t all-together in his head and has left Selkie to be raised by her strange aunts. She’s lived knowing only one rule: don’t tell anybody your birthday. So when Selkie finally says those words to Ben, a boy who she’s known practically forever, her entire world spirals out of control. Suddenly Selkie discovers that Ben is no ordinary human and that she isn’t either. Ben is a fae and Selkie is a half-fae princess part of a prophecy that will allow the Unseelie Court to rule. But perhaps the darkest secret that Selkie learns is that her absent mother intends to have her dead. The Girl Who Never Was is a refreshing urban fantasy that takes place in Boston. There are a lot of interesting characters that are introduced into this imaginative story that definitely drive the plot forward. The Girl Who Never Was gives off a very foreboding and dark aura but is a story that—though grim as it can be—has it’s more lighthearted moments. Everything in The Girl Who Never Was works well together. The characters, the setting, the plot; it all works and makes for a non-stop story that I got caught up in. What had me hooked on the novel had to be Ben/Benedict/don’t say his name or it could potentially kill him. I really loved Ben’s character. Right from the moment we’re first introduced to him, you can tell that Ben is going to play a major role in the plot, especially since he’s the character who Selkie gives her birth date to. Ben turns out to be a fae who has essentially pledged his life to protecting Selkie. Is there going to be romance between the two of them? Most likely. But there’s also a dangerous warning given to Selkie regarding Ben that had me screaming leaves readers wondering what will happen next with Ben and if his motives are as pure as they seem. The Girl Who Never Was is very Alice in Wonderland meets The Mortal Instruments. Selkie travels between our Boston and the realm of the fae. I was actually very surprised with how much I enjoyed the world of the fae. It was perfectly described and gave off an instant sense of danger. Selkie’s mother is the ruler of the Seelie Court and she is a terrifying villain. She seems nice on the surface but is really a powerful threat who can name other faeries without even flinching. Dorset’s writing is smooth and constantly keeps readers on their toes. I cannot wait to find out what happens next to Selkie and Ben and I know that the next installment will be great. I would recommend The Girl Who Never Was to readers who are fans of urban fantasy, readers who are looking for the first novel in a series that will keep them hooked and to any readers who want a unique novel.
Good bplot amazing characters an evil mother whats not to like although just like the series the changelings
Very intreting,very realistic and exciting but turns out to be more adventure!
Selkie thinks she is just a normal girl. Her family may be a little odd but a lot of peoples are. She is raised by her aunts because her dad is in an institution and her mom ran off when she was a baby. What she soon finds out is she is far from normal. When she finds out she has been hid from her mom and others she soon realizes she should have stayed hid. She is part faerie on her mom's side and part ogre from her dad's side. Her mom and other fae are after her because of a prophecy. She must stay away from them or they will kill her. Selkie can't do that as Ben has been taken. Now she will do anything to get him back. She has to meet her mother and see who she can trust. It is a dangerous journey she is taking. Selkie has been protected her whole life by many people. Ben has kept her hid even when she didn't know it. They all think she shouldn't know about any of the things for her own good but she isn't a weak person. She shows how strong she is when she takes on a dangerous journey to save Ben even when everyone tells her she shouldn't. She doesn't back down and tries her best to save him and others who need it. If you love books with Faeries in them I am sure you will enjoy this one. Selkie is a great character and I loved getting to know what she was exactly. I would have liked to se more of the ogre part but I am strange like tat I guess lol. Her mom is one crazy person and a queen. She is ruthless and doesn't take a slight from anyone. The Fae court is very dangerous and the author does a great job with describing it. I also enjoyed the different time lines you get to see. I was something I had not seen in a book with Fae. I love Ben and how much he struggles to keep Selkie safe. I look forward to seeing more in this series.