Celeste [Mass Market Paperback]

I honestly thought the first novel in the Gemini series would be Neiderman's redemption. I thought Virginia's ghostwriter had taken a good look at his previous three mini-series, his De Beers series, and his Broken Wings series, and had decided to try something truly different: make a real effort to produce a piece of literature, not just something to enthrall the masses of tweens that read these stories these days.

From my first glimpse of "Celeste's" cover, I was mad. The phrase "A mother's love as deady as Mommy's in FITA" caught my attention, and kept it. Andrew Neiderman has not, and will never earn the right to compare *his* V.C. A. writing to what Virginia herself wrote.

(The actual book itself was boring...an interesting concept, but horribly written.)

Virginia was a story-teller. She spun yarns. Her words...her tone...her plots...they all pulled you into the world she sought to create. By the end of one of *her* novels, you felt as though you knew each and every character personally. You rejoiced with their triumphs and ached with their sorrows. Her stories moved you...or at least, me.

No main character after Ruby Landry (aside from Rain Hudson, Brody Randolph, and Melody Logan) moved me. No series after some parts of the Hudson series, and no mini-series plot or character has ever moved me.

Neiderman's stories try to live up to V.C. Andrews and fall flat. And his recent stories don't even make that effort. They are full of stale pop culture references, weak characters, and pathetic, female, idealized leads.

In closing, I would like to urge everyone to refrain from reading "Celeste." It is not worth your time, and will only continue to tarnish your good memories of the brilliant story-teller Virginia Andrews, and her stories.

Years ago, I was addicted to the books by V.C. Andrews -- specifically the Flowers in the Attic series and the Heaven series. Andrews could spin a story with mystery, secrets, love, incest -- and all of it would work together so beautifully. Honestly, there are no authors I have found that are comparable in style to V.C. Andrews.

Consequently, I was disappointed with the books that were written "in her honor" after she had passed away. At first they were all right, as if she had outlined them to begin with. Gradually, they didn't hold my interest anymore. They were lacking...something...

Celeste brought back the old feelings that so well reminded me of the author of the spellbinding My Sweet Audrina. As if someone had studied Andrews well enough to truly mimic that style that entrances you to turn page after page.

The storyline promised much -- and made the book a quick read.

What was missing in this book, however, was that ray of light. One bad thing after another befalls Celeste Atwell. I thought by the end that there would be some glimmer of hope for Celeste. I walked away feeling dismal about the entire experience. Will I read Black Cat, the upcoming sequel? Probably. But I wish there had been some small happiness for Celeste in this book - like Heaven's Logan or Cathy's brother Chris.

Anyway, I found this book better than the past few novels in V.C. Andrews' name. The storyline carried the book for me. If you liked Flowers in the Attic, give this one a chance.

Celeste is a bit tired and slow, in my opinion. VC Andrews real work was gothic, which can often mean a bit overwrought as well as dark, and this was part of their charm. This is dark (maybe), but lacks the artistry, well drawn characters, and story development.

I was a huge fan of the Dollanganger series and My Sweet Audrina. I've tried some of the ghost work, none seem interesting or compelling. Save your money, just reread the REAL VC Andrews!