Her Dark Curiousity

Author: Megan Shepard
Series: The Madman's Daughter, #2
Publisher: Balzer + Bray
Release Date: January 28, 2014

Months have passed since Juliet Moreau returned to civilization after escaping her father's island—and the secrets she left behind. Now, back in London once more, she is rebuilding the life she once knew and trying to forget Dr. Moreau's horrific legacy—though someone, or something, hasn’t forgotten her.

As people close to Juliet fall victim one by one to a murderer who leaves a macabre calling card of three clawlike slashes, Juliet fears one of her father's creations may have also escaped the island. She is determined to find the killer, though it means awakening sides of herself she had thought long banished, and facing loves from her past she never expected to see again. As Juliet strives to stop a killer while searching for a serum to cure her own worsening illness, she finds herself once more in the midst of a world of scandal and danger.

With inspiration from Robert Louis Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, this is a tantalizing mystery about the hidden natures of those we love and how far we’ll go to save them from themselves.

The only way I can see Her Dark Curiosity in a positive light is to make a drinking game out of it. Take a shot whenever someone says "relatively simple". Or when Juliet bemoans her heritage. Or when she makes a comparison between herself and Edward. Oh, how different they are from the sheeple of London. Trapped in the struggle of man and beast. You're both monsters, caught between worlds. My heart weeps. The struggle is real.

Frankly, I don't care for Juliet's issues anymore. Her father's so-called madness runs through her veins. Can she please move on and accept it already? Because this drama has been drawn out for far too long. While the idea may have been intriguing in The Madman's Daughter, Juliet has to bring it up in every chapter, sounding more like a broken record every time.

"What you hate is what you are. An animal, just like me."

Of course, her inner demons play a huge part in muddling with her affections. As Juliet's desire to sin grows, so does her attraction to Edward. If he had been raised in captivity longer or as a boy that was turned into a beast, I would have fewer qualms with their relationship. But appearances aside, he's only a year old. And he's an amalgamation of heron, monkey, and jackal, apparently. Whenever they shared a sensual moment between the pages, I could feel nothing but disgust.

Edward and I were connected in a deep way—a primal way—that Montgomery would never understand.

My annoyance with this love triangle was furthered when Juliet made Montgomery out to be the bad guy, even though he's better than the lot of them. I couldn't help but laugh sometimes when Montgomery claimed he was the monster in this story. Like, dude. Maybe you're better off not knowing what the others have been doing.

The hopeful look in [Lucy's] eye told me her feelings for Edward hadn't dimmed despite the terrible truths I'd told her.

Speaking of which, let's talk about Lucy. The possibility of romance between her and Edward disturbs me. Her affections were too underdeveloped, as well as her character. I didn't care for her as much as I should. I know she's sheltered and all, especially considering her background, but she acts like a child. I never looked forward to any of her appearances.

In short, I had a lot of laughs. I raged harder than I should have. Some descriptions were very repetitive, and revelations too sudden. The international edition was riddled with typos. My final say is that it should have been polished more, and it could have been better. Her Dark Curiosity has left me hesitant to read A Cold Legacy.

The Madman's Daughter

Author: Megan Shepard
Series: The Madman's Daughter, #1
Publisher: Balzer + Bray
Release Date: December 23, 2013

Sixteen-year-old Juliet Moreau has built a life for herself in London—working as a maid, attending church on Sundays, and trying not to think about the scandal that ruined her life. After all, no one ever proved the rumors about her father’s gruesome experiments. But when she learns he is alive and continuing his work on a remote tropical island, she is determined to find out if the accusations are true.

Accompanied by her father's handsome young assistant, Montgomery, and an enigmatic castaway, Edward—both of whom she is deeply drawn to—Juliet travels to the island, only to discover the depths of her father’s madness: He has experimented on animals so that they resemble, speak, and behave as humans. And worse, one of the creatures has turned violent and is killing the island’s inhabitants. Torn between horror and scientific curiosity, Juliet knows she must end her father's dangerous experiments and escape her jungle prison before it's too late. Yet as the island falls into chaos, she discovers the extent of her father's genius—and madness—in her own blood.

When The Madman's Daughter was released all those years ago, I was completely uninterested. Love triangles are the bane of my existence, and horror is a genre I'm not too fond of. It was only until I had to research examples of the latter that I actually decided to pick it up. Inspired by classic Gothic literature—in this case, H. G. Wells's The Island of Dr. Moreau—The Madman's Daughter had left quite the impression.

I feel obligated to mention that I've already read Her Dark Curiosity, although I do plan to make a separate review for that. As much as possible, I'll try to constrain myself from muddling the two together. This review has been a long time coming, and I'm a little rusty. What I remember most of all were the surprises this story brought to the table, and even an ending that drew a tear to my eye.

Dead flesh and sharpened scalpels didn't bother me. I was my father's daughter, after all. My nightmares were made of darker things.

What had lessened my experience was Juliet, an unsympathetic heroine who tested my patience at the end of every chapter. I feel as if I'm getting tired of women who want to tear off their corsets. I get it. I get the symbolism. But it's starting to come off as, I don't know, edgy? Cliché? While I enjoy stories in which ladies break off the shackles of society, the analogy was very cringe-worthy to read, although it certainly does follow through with her personality.

Juliet is presented as being highly analytical. Her passions are constrained, yet they yearn to break free. I will concede that her character has been well fleshed-out. Her dynamic with her father adds an interesting dimension to her narrative. Even when he isn't in her presence, he keeps her toiling on a string. As his daughter, Juliet desperately wants to see past the monster the public has made him out to be, which prompts her to test the boundaries of her moral compass.

I had thought I was alone in the world. But here he was, the only person who knew me, the only one left who shared my dark secrets.

I want to make one thing abundantly clear: Fuck love triangles. Montgomery all the way. It was obvious who was the third wheel from the get-go, but then the said third wheel would keep popping up like an annoying mole. Juliet would be ripped out of an integral moment in the plot, simply because she was too enthralled in her strange romance with Edward, and there would be plenty of moments where I would shout, "Montgomery is still in danger, you assholes." Pulling out of my rant for a moment, am I the only one who thought Edward was a blonde and Montgomery was a brunette?

The first chapters kept me invested and the middle worried me when its ability to keep me sympathetic, but the second half had been a game-changer.

I was spooked when they went to the village, when it was revealed that the creations had cut the Caesar's tongue. Scary. Shit. And that ending! I did not expect that at all. But I do prefer Juliet going back home alone than Balthazar and the horse

The prose was simply haunting, capturing the essence of Gothic horror. Despite my disdain for its protagonist, The Madman's Daughter is a horrific yet delightful read.