After seeing the cover for Soul Weaver, which is a pretty gold with the typical half-naked man on front with plenty of moobage showing, I decided to read the blurb to see if this was the same old paranormal or maybe something new. The premise sounded interesting, a world of fallen angels who collect or harvest damned souls so that they can be used in hell. I like books about angels, although I’m of the opinion that they are becoming as over used as say… vampires and werewolves, so I decided to give this one a chance. I”m sorry to say I didn’t enjoy this book as much as I hoped I would.
Nathaniel is the Soul Weaver, he harvests the souls of the damned, sends them to Hell, or Dis, and then once a month he weaves his fellow fallen angels new wings with them. After a retrieval one day he happens upon a car accident where he sees a young woman dying. When no angels show up to take her soul to heaven he decides to alter fate and weave a piece of his soul to hers to keep her alive a bit longer so that she has a chance to live. He doesn’t realize that by doing this he has set events into motion that will mark her soul as damned and force him to collect it later on as a harvester.
Chloe lives her life in fear after her accident, she has crippling nightmares that force her to take anxiety medication and has turned her into a recluse. The only life she has consists of her house and her bookstore. In essence she’s trapped. An agoraphobic that hires other people to do things like buy her groceries, get her prescriptions and mail her packages. She goes out on a limb and hires not only a desperate young woman to work in her bookstore, but also a handyman to help her make repairs to her shop. She doesn’t realise that she is living on borrowed time and her time is almost up.
I never really connected with either Chloe or Nathaniel, and I also never found them believable as a couple. I have no idea what Nathaniel found so wonderful about Chloe. She was lonely and sad, yes she was traumatized by her accident and nightmares, but after finding out her background she seems to have been lonely and sad even before those events. Chloe was just blah for me. When Nathaniel comes to claim her soul and realizes she is the same woman from the accident he morphs into some kind of lover-boy stalker. Your guess is as good as mine as to the why. Why a woman who has to take anti-anxiety medicine to function on an everyday basis isn’t at least a little concerned by this attention is baffling. In fact Nathaniel seems to be the only thing that doesn’t cause Chloe some kind of anxiety, a woman who also is a virgin who has never even been kissed. It was just weird. Their sexy scenes where blah to me too, in fact that’s my theme word for today: blah. Blah characters, blah action scenes and blah sexy times.
The bad guy turns out to be Nathaniel’s own brother, who is trying to find a way to bring back his lost love and thinks that Nathaniel’s weaving shears is the only way to do it. I really couldn’t figure out Saul either. Even after her death he is still so in love with his wife that he is trying to find a way to bring her back, but he treats their son together, that she ADORED, like complete shit. Huh? Color me confused. When the confrontation happens Chloe, who has been a scared little rabbit the entire book, turns into a super woman who saves the day. She not only leaves the house with no anxiety what so ever, but all of a sudden knows how to read minds and travel through time rips. I have to say, by this time I just didn’t really even care anymore.
The only character I really liked was Neve, the desperate young mother who Chloe hired to help in the bookstore. She was interesting, I almost wanted Nathaniel to turn his attention to her and help her with her issues. This world could have been more appealing with better fleshed out characters, snappier dialogue and maybe set to a faster pace, but for me it was just…. blah.
“You don’t play fair.” She sighed into his kiss.
“I don’t play with you.” His eyes sparkled beneath the tiny Christmas lights. “Everything about you, I take very seriously.” Threading his fingers through her hair, he brought a handful of curls to his nose. “From the way you smell.” His lips closed over hers a second time. “To the way you taste.” His calloused hands rubbed her bare shoulders. “To the way you feel. All of it, all of you, mean too much for me to play games.”