It happens at the start of every November: the Scorpio Races. Riders attempt to keep hold of their water horses long enough to make it to the finish line. Some riders live. Others die.
At age nineteen, Sean Kendrick is the returning champion. He is a young man of few words, and if he has any fears, he keeps them buried deep, where no one else can see them.
Puck Connolly is different. She never meant to ride in the Scorpio Races. But fate hasn’t given her much of a chance. So she enters the competition — the first girl ever to do so. She is in no way prepared for what is going to happen.
Publisher: Scholastic Press
I’ve always been a little wary of Maggie Stiefvater’s novels. Not because I don’t like her writing (because I do. I love her writing so very much), but because I am so absolutely terrified of the simple fact that she could break my heart with a single sentence.
After reading The Scorpio Races, I don’t fear Stiefvater’s death grip on my heart any more. Because I’m now convinced that she has done everything in her power to break me apart.
This book took the last of my emotional stability and threw it under the hooves of a hundred horses. It broke down all the walls I’d built so carefully to stop myself from becoming more attached to characters than I am to my own family. It threw me into the ocean and left me to drown there.
And while it took its time destroying every single aspect of my miserable little life, I sat there begging it for more.
Seriously, I couldn’t put it down. Thank goodness I was listening to the Audible version, because at times I wouldn’t have been able to see the page, let alone read the words on it, thanks to the tears streaming down my face. At this point, I’m even debating buying a physical copy as well so that I can keep it next to my bed and read it over and over again.
The Scorpio Races is very much like the water horses it contains: effortlessly beautiful, powerful, fast-paced, and oh so dangerous. (Dangerous in the sense that every chapter brings you closer to a mental breakdown.) The plot is flawless. The writing is exceptional. The characters are exquisite. The only complaint I have is that there isn’t a sequel.
Recommended to: Everybody, everybody, everybody.
The Last Word
Just read it, okay?
I promise it’s worth all the tears and heartbreak.
(I say this, but I’m still dehydrated from crying so much. Thanks, Stiefvater.)