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Thursday, May 22, 2014

{Book Review} THE IVORY TERRORS, Book 3 of the Cavaliers, by GEORGIANA DERWENT

Book Title: The Ivory Terrors, Book 3 of The Cavaliers
Author: Georgiana Derwent
Publisher: Createspace
Publishing Date: May 1, 2014
Length: 508 pages
Source: Author for Honest Review
A Tale of the Posh, the Privileged and the Paranormal...
The Cavaliers are the most elite society at Oxford University. Though its members are universally wealthy, charming and handsome, they have a darker side - they are deadly vampires who have been secretly running the country for the last four hundred years.

No one ever claimed that third year at Oxford University is easy, but Harriet French has more to worry about than just her final exams.

Richard, an ancient vampire with no love for Cavaliers or Roundheads, has dragged Harriet to his French fortress as part of his quest for revenge and power. Can Harriet support Richard’s plot to kill Augustine? He may have the country in his thrall, but he’s still family. She has no such qualms about killing the Roundhead leader Fea and her twin henchmen, but is she willing to sacrifice herself to do it?

And then there’s George, once the archetypal Cavalier, who now seems to have betrayed both Harriet and the society. It’s hard to be sure about anyone’s true loyalties and harder still to know the right thing to do.

Ivory Terrors concludes the story told in Oxford Blood and Screaming Spires of Harriet French’s time at Oxford and her involvement with an elite vampire society.


Before delving into book 3, I reviewed my own reviews of book 1 and 2, and was surprised that I kinda got my wishes! (Book One review: http://tiffyfit.blogspot.com/2013/04/book-tour-review-oxford-blood-by.html , Book Two review: http://tiffyfit.blogspot.com/2013/05/book-tour-screaming-spires-cavaliers.html) Like the first two books, I was sucked into this world quickly and happily read along, sometimes rolling my eyes at the characters, sometimes scolding them, sometimes gleeful, etc.

Throughout this third book, I was very wishy-washy with Harriet. At times I found her endearing, at other times I found her frustrating. I found it infuriating that she was bouncing in and out of Tom's bed and George's bed. She often made statements that made me roll my eyes and her decision making was just...ugh. And it was very difficult to like her this time around no matter how much I told myself that she's merely 21 and bound to make these mistakes! There is much treachery and covert planning throughout this book and it makes you question who will betray whom! You're constantly looking at the characters wondering where their loyalties lie, if things are truly this bad, or if there is a possibility for a non-severe outcome.

There is more history here as we see the history of Augustine Piso and how the Cavaliers came into being, along with glimpses of the personalities of several. The origins of The Maker are still shrouded in mystery, although how Augustine was able to kill him is explained. While Harriet's two friends and her decision to confide in them bothered me, I understood her desire for intimacy and how you cannot have a lie between friends. They were true to form and what I would expect out of the age group: irrational little brats who have to learn things the hard way.

I understand that some will not be happy with this ending. I completely understand it and it did seem rather abruptly decided by Harriet, however her reasoning was sound. When there's that calling, perhaps you just can't resist!

All in all, I found this a pleasant ending to the series that tied things up quite nicely. I would not mind continuing in the world of the Cavaliers, but perhaps having them on the outskirts and focusing on Harriet's new life.

Thanks to the author for the opportunity to be on this tour and read the conclusion! 


Georgiana Derwent is the author of the Cavaliers Series: Oxford Blood, Screaming Spires, and Ivory Terrors. She lives in London with her fiancĂ©, Freddie, who’d fit right in to the Cavaliers.  As you might have guessed from the books, she studied history at Oxford University, and is getting married there this summer.
Apart from the English Civil War that inspired the Cavaliers Series,  her favourite periods are the Italian Renaissance, the Tudors, and the British Regency. Hopefully, she’ll get to write about one or all of the others soon.
Georgiana loves to read literary novels that don’t forget about plot, and fantasy, paranormal, and historical novels that don’t forget about prose. Her absolute favourite books tend to be those that blur the lines between the two.  She’s loved vampire novels since her teens, though the vampires have to be at least a bit bloodthirsty and fantastical.  If the plot of a paranormal romance would be basically the same with human characters, she’s generally not interested.
Georgiana is a qualified lawyer and currently works for the British Government. She loves her day job, but writing The Cavaliers makes a nice change of pace, even if it’s sometimes very difficult to find the time in-between running the country!
Georgiana also enjoys running, pilates, singing, and learning Italian. Oh, and this year, wedding planning. Lots and lots of frenzied wedding planning!

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The restaurant looked good. Most of its tables were outside, facing onto the main, statue-strewn square. It had elegant wooden tables, candles everywhere, and, judging by the menu, amazing food. Determined to make the best of the situation, Harriet slumped into a chair.
“You don’t have to do what he wants, you know,” George said, as soon as they sat down. “I mean it. In many ways, Richard is quite ruthless, but he’s a fundamentally decent person, and he won’t push you beyond a certain point. I brought you here because I knew you wanted revenge for what happened to your family, but that Augustine and the others were holding you back. But where you take it from here is up to you.”
A waitress interrupted them and launched into a stream of French. Harriet attempted to reply. She’d gained an A* in French GCSE, but in practice, that didn’t equate to much more than being able to give her name and age.
The girl looked puzzled at her words.
To her surprise, George suddenly started speaking what sounded like entirely fluent French. The words poured out in a stream, accompanied with a variety of Gallic shrugs and sneers. The girl looked enchanted by both his looks and his vocabulary.
“Well that was impressive, I’ve got to admit,” Harriet said once the waitress had left the table. “I suppose four centuries of life has given you plenty of time to learn new languages.”
“Something like that. I actually grew up in France, at least in part. It’s good to get a chance to practise once every few decades.”
The waitress came back with wine and bread, shooting George coy looks all the time. He made a few more remarks in what sounded like perfect French, then excused himself for a moment, claiming that he had to make a call. He walked off to the other side of the square.
“Your beautiful friend speaks very strange French,” the waitress said as soon as he left, suddenly tiring of the pretence of speaking no English.
“Strange how?” asked Harriet, feeling oddly defensive. “My French isn’t good enough to tell, but he sounded pretty slick.”
The girl smiled. “He speaks very beautifully. But listening to him is like reading a book by Voltaire. His words, his sentences, they are all about three hundred years out of date. Try to imagine someone talking to you in Shakespearean English. It’s not quite that dramatic, but it’s close.”
Harriet could sense the girl’s longing to ask more questions and get to the bottom of the mystery of the stunning boy with the strange French, but as soon as George returned, she disappeared away into the kitchens.
“What was that about?” he asked dispassionately.
“She said your French is very old-fashioned,” she said, laughing at his disgruntled expression.
“How rude. Although it’s probably true. I speak English every day. My style has changed and evolved with the centuries. I haven’t spoken French on a daily basis since my human years. I suppose it’s crystallised in time. Still, I should be grateful that the language hasn’t changed too much over the centuries. You should see Rupert trying to speak modern German. He can barely order a beer.”
The meal progressed in silence. The food - fresh bread and a giant pot of mussels - tasted wonderful, but a sense of awkwardness permeated the air.
“I’m sorry, you know,” George said suddenly. “I think bringing you here was the right thing to do, but I probably could have handled it better.”
Harriet laughed bitterly. “Given the choice between gentle persuasion or knocking someone out with mesmerism, you always know which way to play it.”
George didn’t answer. He simply poured her another glass of the rosĂ© wine that the waitress had described as a speciality of the area.
 “Are you doing this of your own free will?” she asked cautiously. It was a dangerous thing to say to a vampire, implying they were in someone else’s power. The thought of Richard controlling George alarmed her even more than the idea of him following his own wild path.
“What makes you ask that?” George said, studying her face carefully.
“This all just seems so unlike you. I find it difficult to believe that you’d betray the Cavaliers, betray Augustine, help to steal his wife away. And from what you’ve told me before, I know Richard turned you. That must give him some degree of control.”
George gave a non-committal shrug, which clearly indicated that he considered the subject closed.
Harriet didn’t know what to say. Once upon a time, the world had seemed so simple - Cavaliers hated Roundheads; Tom and George had a petty rivalry. Now suddenly, Richard had created a third side, and George’s true feelings and true loyalties were anyone’s guess.
Besides, she longed to ask another question. Before you mesmerised me and brought me here, you said such sweet things. And you kissed me like you really meant them. Was it just to lull me into a false sense of security?
Before she could make herself speak, the waitress returned with the bill. She stared at George in awe and barely seemed to register Harriet’s presence.
He smiled as he paid, and whispered something to her in his fluent but archaic French. Harriet couldn’t understand, but the fact that it left the girl giggling and blushing made the context fairly clear.
“Shall we walk?” George said to Harriet, slipping effortlessly back into English.
He helped her out of her chair and into her light jacket, the perfect gentleman whenever he wasn’t ruthlessly seducing or feeding from a girl.