WOW! This is a MUST READ Sci-fi thriller. The Host is amazing. Riveting and engrossing, making my heart beat fast as I race through the pages, not wanting to put it down until I had turned the last page. Needless to say, this is a long book, so I didn’t make it. But, I picked it up first thing in the morning and began reading while waiting for my cup of coffee.

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The Wanderer relived Melanie’s memory of her flight to escape the Seekers. She screamed as the memory overwhelmed her. This was her body now, so what were these thoughts running through her mind? Was Melanie still in here? She had heard of it happening before, but not to her. How could that be?

This was not her first “host”. Everyone was sure this would pass and the Wanderer would take over.

Melanie was part of the resistance and the Seekers wanted what she knew. As they questioned the Wanderer, Melanie did her best to keep them from finding their way to Jared. But the wanderer knew his name.

Melanie’s life kept coming at her, even as she fought the Wanderer to keep her secrets.  But, Melanie didn’t fade with time, she became stronger. The Wanderer would wake, crying, wondering how humans dealt with the emotions that seemed to paralyze her.

They looked and acted exactly like us, so it wasn’t hard for them to take over. There were so few adult humans left, would human beings become extinct?

   5 STARS – Would Buy It for Them (lol)

A book being named a #1 National bestseller will always makes me want to read it. Then add that it was made into a movie and I see the promos on TV. I have not seen the movie, but I have been told that they followed the book.

I love the cover and the blurb was interesting. I won The Host as a paperback a while back. YAY, I have it. Perfect time to read it. I cannot remember how I won the book, but thank you very much.

I did not find one single flaw with this book. The writing was excellent and the story – well, it was off the charts.

The Hosts did not understand human emotion. I loved all the discussions about emotions – crying, dreaming ………. while humans try and explain to the Wanderer what they are. And love? Does anyone understand love?

For some reason, Stephanie Meyer’s books seem to create intense and sometimes down right ugly feelings and emotions. It seems like every time I mention (she whispers) Twilight, someone discounts whatever I am talking about just because I mentioned (she whispers again) Twilight.  You either love them or hate them. That too will make me want to read the things she writes. I have to find out for myself if I like them or not.

I love fiction books. I read to escape and go places I could never go in real life. I want to feel as if I am on the adventure with the characters. I like to let my mind stretch as far as it can go. Please, take me somewhere I haven’t been before. I dare you.

So, pick up the book and find out for yourself.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

     I was born in Connecticut in 1973, during a brief blip in my family’s otherwise western U.S. existence. We were settled in Phoenix by the time I was four, and I think of myself as a native. The unusual spelling of my name was a gift from my father, Stephen (+ ie = me). Though I have had my name spelled wrong on pretty much everything my entire life long, I must admit that it makes it easier to google myself now.

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I filled the “Jan Brady” spot in my family-the second of three girls. Unlike the Brady’s, none of my three brothers are steps, and all of them are younger than all the girls. I went to high school in Scottsdale, Arizona, the kind of place where every fall a few girls would come back to school with new noses and there were Porsches in the student lot (for the record, I have my original nose, and never had a car until after I was in my twenties). I was awarded a National Merit Scholarship, and I used it to pay my way to Brigham Young University, in Provo, Utah. I majored in English, but concentrated on literature rather than creative writing, mostly because I didn’t consider reading books “work” (as long as I was going to be doing something anyway, I might as well get course credit for it, right?).

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I met my husband, Pancho (his real name is Christiaan), when I was four, but we were never anywhere close to being childhood sweethearts. In fact, though we saw each other at least weekly through church activities, I can’t recall a single instance when we so much as greeted each other with a friendly wave, let alone exchanged actual words. This may have been for the best, because when we did eventually get around to exchanging words, sixteen years after our first meeting, it only took nine months from the first “hello” to the wedding. Of course, we were able to skip over a lot of the getting to know you parts (many of our conversations would go something like this: “This one time, when I was ten, I broke my hand at a party when-” “Yeah, I know what happened. I was there, remember?”) We’ve been married for ten and a half years now, and have three beautiful, brilliant, wonderful boys who often remind me chimpanzees on crack. I can’t write without music, and my biggest muse is, ironically enough, the band Muse. My other favorite sources of inspiration are Linkin Park, My Chemical Romance, Coldplay, The All American Rejects, Travis, The Strokes, Brand New, U2, Kasabian, Jimmy Eat World, and Weezer, to mention a few.

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