The Dark Queen by Susan Carroll

The Dark Queen

Rating: * * *

From Brittany’s misty shores to the decadent splendor of Paris’s royal court, one woman must fulfill her destiny–while facing the treacherous designs of Catherine de Medici, the dark queen.

She is Ariane, the Lady of Faire Isle, one of the Cheney sisters, renowned for their mystical skills and for keeping the isle secure and prosperous. But this is a time when women of ability are deemed sorceresses, when Renaissance France is torn by ruthless political intrigues, and all are held in thrall to the sinister ambitions of Queen Catherine de Medici. Then a wounded stranger arrives on Faire Isle, bearing a secret the Dark Queen will do everything in her power to possess. The only person Ariane can turn to is the comte de Renard, a nobleman with fiery determination and a past as mysterious as his own unusual gifts.

Riveting, vibrant, and breathtaking, The Dark Queen follows Ariane and Renard as they risk everything to prevent the fulfillment of a dreadful prophecy–even if they must tempt fate and their own passions.

– target.com

A fantasy story with potential is like a vanilla milkshake with crushed Oreo bits. For the first few sips, you’re in heaven – nothing tastes this good, surely. [And you don’t even like chocolate, normally.] But half-way in, you’re thinking maybe you’re in way over your head. It tastes indistinguishable now – all you can sense is sugar. By the end, you’re telling yourself you should never, never get that drink again.

A week later, you return to the cafe. “Oh yeah, I’ll get that vanilla milkshake with Oreo bits again, I think it was good last time…”

The Dark Queen is the ultimate vanilla shake with Oreo bits, the ultimate fantasy tale – even action’s included, mind! – with the greatest potential. Potential which, half-way in, sputters and drops limply to the floor. What the hell happened?

Ariane, possibly the greatest lady of the earth alive now, does nothing remarkable. The only time she really does anything (besides unremarkable CPR) is to dabble in slightly dark magic – highly uncharacteristic and absolutely pointless plot-wise – to complain to her mother about her life problems. Even after her dead mother asks her not to. Three times she disobeys. Three pointless times so she can b—- and moan to her heart’s content, never mind that her mother asked her not to summon her, never mind that this dark magic could possibly stain her soul (the effects of which, obviously, are never addressed), never mind what this does to the natural balance of magic (seriously, if you’re going to label something as dark magic, you should have some sort of balance between “good” and “bad” or else there’s no need for these labels).

And that’s only just the female protagonist. When you add her two confused sisters – one weakly set on revenge and one just plain stupid, though young – as well as the evil witch Catherine, who, let’s face it, is about as scary as cottage cheese, you’re wondering if the Oreo bits have disintegrated into your shake. Ah – and just to shake it up a bit more – the lovely, dashing male is not so much lovely or dashing as muddled and a bit too “gallant” for anyone’s tastes. He started off as a right git, attempting to force Ariane’s hand in marriage, and then…well, he started keeping secrets that aren’t really secrets – but since Carroll thinks they are, we just nod and scratch our heads – and after that he rapidly began losing appeal.

And when you look back at the cover of the book and realize this book is titled after “evil witch” Catherine, whom, as we stated, is no scarier than cottage cheese, you have to wonder where it’s all leading.

And then you realize it’s leading up to nowhere.

So much potential…it’s a shame, really. If you truly must read it, stop after male and female enter water. Because, honestly, that’s as good as it gets.

On the fence. [But teetering a bit on the dangerous side of said fence.]

& ElizabethC