Update 3/2/22:
I finally got the audiobook from the library last week and had an opportunity to give it a listen. Alas, the book didn’t get better with age. It’s not a bad book by any means, it’s certainly ambitious, but I 100% stand by my criticisms in my original review below. I’m a little curious about the sequels, and I might check them out sometime when I need something to listen to, but they’re definitely not a priority.
Ironically, I was turned on to Sarah J. Maas’s work after reading reviews for this book claiming it was ripping off the Court of Thorns and Roses series. I can thank Fortuna Sworn for that—I LOVE Sarah J. Maas’s books, especially the ACOTAR series. And now that I’ve read (cough-worshipped-cough) ACOTAR, I can see where those reviews were coming from; Fortuna Sworn does come across like a wannabe ACOTAR. There are definitely not-so-subtle similarities, the most obvious being Fortuna’s willingness to wreck herself for a loved one and the three trials she endured to become queen. Sutton didn’t even mix up the order: defeat a mythical creature, solve a puzzle, and kill the person you love most. They’re probably just different enough that Sutton can’t be sued for copyright infringement. Sutton is a talented writer, but she’s not Maas, and Fortuna fails to compare. I also wouldn’t be surprised to learn Sutton was influenced by the show Supernatural, but far less obviously.
Title: Fortuna Sworn
Author: K. J. Sutton
Series: Fortuna Sworn #1
Great potential but ultimately unsatisfying
I would like to thank K. J. Sutton, Once Upon a Time Books, LLC, and NetGalley for allowing me to read a free ARC in exchange for an honest review.
The novel bore evidence of Sutton’s intelligence and writing talent. She had some awesome lines: “God, give me patience or an untraceable handgun.” “Satan came to my christening, little boy.” (That one might need context to appreciate.) She made efforts to choose colorful verbs, use active voice, and compose unique comparisons that surprise one with their accuracy: “A burst of fury whirled through me like a hurricane, and I buried my nails into his flesh.” “If Collith was a star-filled sky, Laurie was the breeze whispering past as you gazed upward.” I could tell she was passionate about the story and the characters, and the premise is definitely intriguing…
But I was not satisfied, largely because the conflict was perpetuated by one man who stubbornly refused to explain or do something about anything. It cockblocked the story’s potential, the worldbuilding, and my ability to like Collith. It also left me with too many questions and unresolved issues for my liking.
You hear about plots propped up by misunderstandings that could be resolved with five minutes of frank conversation; this is similar. Five minutes—okay, maybe thirty—of honest conversation between Collith and Fortuna could have given us a completely different and less frustrating story. Where clearing up a misunderstanding can dissolve the foundation of a story, an honest conversation between Collith and Fortuna could have established one.
What do I mean? Well, instead of Collith withholding pertinent information in major fucktard fashion, forcing Fortuna to stumble around blindly and make awful, unnecessary mistakes—I got so goddamn frustrated—they could have been upfront with each other at the start, come to an understanding, albeit a grudging one, and worked together to achieve both their goals. They could have been unlikely allies who grew to understand, respect, and love one another. There were copious ways for conflict and antagonists to arise outside of their relationship; their obstinate refusal to trust one another—or at least to be frank with one another for their mutual benefit—all the way through to the end was exasperating, exhausting, and eventually felt contrived.
I wonder if Sutton intentionally employed a negative arc—if that’s the case, it’s a fan-fucking-tastic one—or failed to write a positive one. Fortuna never got a break, never had a true victory; becoming queen didn’t give her any extra clout aside from the tokens of fealty, and freeing her brother earned her his hatred. Her relationship with Collith did not improve, in fact I think he was seriously regretting taking her as a mate because she ended up doing exactly what he didn’t want to do, aka ruling by fear (and whose fault is that, dumbass?). Fortuna could feel her sanity slipping away. Hope, which was only the faintest of flickers to begin with, died and never rekindled. In a positive arc, that would be the crisis moment, which would be followed by a climax and a satisfying resolution; the MC would triumph, the situation would improve, and hope would be restored. That did not happen here. Not to say it had to end in butterflies, rainbows, and happily ever after, but something that gave Fortuna some positive emotion in the real world would have been nice. Like Damon appreciating his freedom, though he mourned the loss of Jassin, or Collith realizing he’d gone about it all wrong and deciding to sit down with her, tell her everything, and work together.
There were more things I didn’t understand, such as how mates are different from spouses—are spouses even a thing for them?—and why the fae invoke the concept of marriage when it’s made clear that they don’t actually marry. They make some promises and become able to vaguely sense one another’s mood via magic. That appears to be it. They don’t become husbands and wives, only mates; there’s no official document or tax benefits, no priest or other sacred means of blessing the union. Indeed I doubt it can be blessed, considering they’re descended from fallen angels and seem to therefore be the antithesis of blessed. So why use the terms “marry,” “marriage,” etc., when they have no relevance? It just confuses the reader.
Also, Damon. He’s a Nightmare, right? That was why Jassin was attracted to him, because Damon could feed his fear kink? So…why, then, was Damon as helpless as a human slave? Why was Fortuna kind of regarded like a Messiah, at least by Collith, because of her powers, and Damon was just completely disregarded? Maybe he wasn’t “particularly strong,” but as a Nightmare, he was still supposed to be a pretty big threat, right? I mean, Nightmares were hunted and killed to the point of near extinction because no one wanted them to exist. And he just meekly became a slave? Back before the Stockholm Syndrome took hold, how was he not able to figure out Jassin’s true fear and use it against him? I get that demonstrating how Fortuna could be caught and caged at the beginning rather validated Damon’s own enslavement, but… I don’t know, it just feels like a detail that was ignored, conveniently or otherwise.
Also, what was Cyrus? How did he matter? And what the hell was the deal with Oliver and the dreamworld? I was both fascinated and creeped out by that whole thing. And what did the terms “Seelie” and “Unseelie” mean? That drove me insane. I used them as search terms within the ARC but couldn’t find an explanation. (EDIT July 2020: I realized months after reading this book that those terms are part of fairy lore in general. The terms are derived from very old English. This was the first time I’d come across them, but I’ve seen them used a couple times since in other fantasy books.)
So the premise was intriguing but the execution of it left something to be desired. Also to be desired was a little comic relief. Regarding tone, this novel took itself very seriously, which would be fine except I’m not sure the thematic resonance was there to justify it. It was also literally serious in that there was little to no humor, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was dark and intense and thrilling—but my personal tastes would have appreciated some levity here and there, because all that angst and fury got to be exhausting. Case in point, when Fortuna found Damon, failed to save him as easily as she thought she could, and was subsequently whipped for her efforts, it caused a physical reaction within me, which I consider a sign of excellent writing. My heart beat hard and heavy with dread and my lungs worked like I was about to start running for my life. My body was tense with frustration and impotence. I wanted to be part of the fae crowd so I could stand up and scream, “Is this seriously happening? Collith, do something!” I got to the point where she was taken back to Collith’s rooms and healed, then I slipped into a two-hour nap. At noon. I usually only nap if I’m sick. The whipping scene was intense, man.
Structurally, the prologue wasn’t necessary; the first line of the first chapter had a great hook—“They put me in a cage”—but I would have recommended backing up after that line and showing Fortuna looking for her brother on the mountain and getting caught in real time. That would have better conveyed Fortuna’s aloneness and desperation to the reader, I think; her vulnerabilities. It would also have demonstrated her motivation to find and save her brother, which propels all Fortuna’s decisions and therefore the novel, right of the bat. Instead, we go straight to the market, where we’re given the impression that Fortuna’s driven by anger and resentment for being treated like a wild animal. That, too, was important motivation for her, but not foremost.
At the market we also meet Collith and get a demonstration of Fortuna’s power. I don’t recall it ever being explained why Collith was there, though… From what I understood, he just happened to be there, happened to find her. “When I came across you at the market…” Which is way too coincidental for this story. Maybe we’ll find out later, along with why he had to have her as a mate. It was clear Collith was attracted to Fortuna and even cared about her (if you consider reticence, lies, and edicts signs of affection), and that he was aware she was powerful and the last of the Nightmare species, but I don’t remember him explicitly explaining why he wanted her specifically. Why he thought an angry, resentful, emotionally traumatized woman would make progressive changes to the fae culture. Why she of all people would want to help the fae. Why a Nightmare, a creature whose power is to ferret out your worst fears and use them to incapacitate if not destroy you, seemed like a good candidate to rule without using fear.
And I have to say, as much as I wanted to buy that Collith was a romantic, I couldn’t. I don’t think he was “enamored with the idea of a best friend and lover tied into one.” Rather, he was enamored with the idea of a pet. Something that would be unwaveringly loyal, provide unconditional love, and obey commands without question. Having that pet be a woman he desired was just a perk. Actually, thinking on it, he had a pet in Laurie, at least by all appearances. But I imagine taking Laurie as a mate would have been complicated…or brilliantly strategic?
A couple random and largely inconsequential complaints: One, Collith was described both as cold and warm. Like, the physical sensations. “…his collarbone, where the skin was smooth and unexpectedly cold.” “A cool hand cupped my elbow…” “…he was deliciously warm.” “…I could feel the heat of him.” It probably doesn’t matter, but it confused me as I was reading and trying to understand the nuances of the species.
Two, sleep and a state of unconsciousness seemed to be used interchangeably, but they’re not the same thing. A sleeping person can be roused; an unconscious person does not respond to outside stimuli. Sleep is normal and necessary; unconsciousness is a symptom of illness or injury. That’s why unconsciousness is alarming.
Overall, this novel was fascinating yet frustrating. Sutton has a great imagination which gave her some fantastic ideas for story, but I’m afraid I didn’t fully appreciate how she chose to execute those ideas.
