For the nineteenth book in the challenge, I read A Feast for Crows, by George R. R. Martin. Perhaps unsurprisingly, I gave it five out of five stars.
I think my husband is becoming accustomed to my cursing at Mr. Martin. Not many books can make someone swear aloud, especially me. Most of the time my swearing at a book involves poor copy-editing/formatting or a particularly obvious plot hole, but in the case of this series, I am frustrated by the misery Martin puts his characters through. I want so badly for things to go well for certain of them, but then the story would be over. I can’t wait to read the next one for the other half of the characters’ stories.
I know, I know. I’m late to the party.