Assassins! Accidental Matchmakers by Jen and Éric Desmarais – A Book Review

Kennedy lives a pretty busy life.

After graduating from university, her life seems full. It’s full of neighbours in her building that need her help, friends and coworkers that know that they can count on Kennedy for anything. Her time is filled with those that count on her and her job at Discreet Frills, a small boutique lingerie store. Everything is pretty boring and normal for Westmeath. Kennedy just wishes that her life was something…more.

That something more comes in the form of Jason Johnson. Kennedy runs into Jason when she is out doing errands and is immediately smitten. While walking away, she happens to look back to see him being attacked in an alleyway. She leaps into action, saving Jason from getting stabbed and is astounded when the attacker vanishes.

Her world is thrown into overdrive as she becomes more involved with Jason, who happens to be one of the Aetherborn. They are a community of people capable of magic, but not all of them are good. There are those Aetherborn who wish the world harm and people around them are disappearing. As if that weren’t enough to deal with, there is the Phantom, a mysterious superhero who is busy trying to save the streets of Westmeath.

Kennedy’s world is no longer the boring one that it once was. Kennedy and Jason will have to risk everything if they have a shot at saving the world…

I loved everything about this book. I’ve been a long-time fan of Éric Desmarais’ work and the world building he does and knew that Assassins! Accidental Matchmakers would be good and I was pretty sure what I was in for.

I was wrong, though. It was spectacular! Assassins! Accidental Matchmakers is not just a book you read. It’s a book you want to live in.

The book pulled me in from the first page and I love the character of Kennedy. Jen and Éric excel at creating characters that you end up caring for. By the end of the book, the characters of this book weren’t just people on the page; they were friends. I’ve been with them through so much, after all.

The plot is amazing, and it just rolls along at a breakneck speed. It’s one of those books where you think that you know where it’s going and then Jen and Éric take you down a whole other path you never even considered.

Even more amazing, none of it ever feels forced. The whole plot and the world building are top notch. Though Westmeath Ontario is a real place, I want to live in the one that the authors have created. After reading this book, I feel like I know the people that live there, and I know the streets well.

I think that the biggest achievement, more than the excellent plot, the fantastic characters and the incredible world building, is that it’s all written in the same voice. Writing a book with another person can be difficult and often times I’ve read a novel written by two different people and can guess who wrote each part of the book. Not so here! Jen and Éric are incredible writers and have pulled off a fantastic slight of hand that is just so much fun.

I’m also thrilled to learn that this is the first book in a series! I can’t wait for the next novel and to meet up with Kennedy and Jason again. I may not have known them when I first started the book, but I finished it with friends and people I care about.

Since reading this book, I can’t help but wonder if there is a secret world under the one I know so well. That’s how good Assassins! Accidental Matchmakers is. I can’t wait for my next adventure.

Lessons My Father Taught Me/What I Taught Myself – A Poem

Me, around the age of 8 or 9

My father taught me to read a person’s body language,

so that I could recognize when a punch was coming.

I taught myself to read what a person’s body was saying,

so that I could offer them comfort even if they didn’t say a thing.

My father taught me that it was better to hide,

because there was less of a chance that I would be hit.

I taught myself to shine brightly and to remain visible,

because even though I was afraid, I was tired of hiding.

My father taught me to hate myself and everything I was,

that I should be ashamed of the secret that I held within myself.

I struggle with self love and self care, but I finally believe

that I am worthy of both, and I no longer hide who I am.

My father taught me to hate everything that didn’t look like me,

that anyone who didn’t fit the right mold was worthy of disdain.

I taught myself to love those that don’t fit in, that don’t conform.

I’ve realized that life doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has

to be lived.

Overstood – A Poem

I thought I understood

but it appears that

I overstood the assignment.

In trying to figure out

who I am and

what I thought I was,

I’ve been listening to

what my mind wants

when I should have

been listening to my heart.

My body is sometimes

not my own as it rebels

against the boundaries

of its physical form

and I am pulled down

into the dark corridors

of my mind when what I want

is to know who I am.

I am in a world

full of misunderstandings,

slights of hand and everyday magic:

random bits of glass

that shine like diamonds,

caught for a moment in the sun,

the sound of someone’s voice

that reminds you of

a love that you had long ago,

the sight of a bird launching into flight

and you watch as the bird flies away,

a piece of red string in its beak.

It has been years that

I have not understood

where I belong,

but when I accepted who I was,

what I was capable of,

it appears that I’ve

overstood myself all along.

Looking at my fingertips,

I see a magic that defies

what I can and cannot do.

I simply am and that’s magic

enough.

Words of My Own – A Poem

I’m looking at the water within me.

It is a storm that wants to overtake me,

pummel away at the foundations

that I have built, the balance, the stability.

I have a fleeting moment

where I want to give in,

let the water overtake me,

the storm loud and taking away

all sound except for the rushing of water.

Yet, there are other sounds,

words that gurgle to the surface

of the water and I turn away from them,

but I can still hear them:

stupid, nothing, useless, idiot.

They are words that I’ve heard before,

words that I’ve said to myself all too often

much as I’ve weathered the storm.

I know the caress of its waves very well.

Watching the water as it undulates,

trying ever so hard to wipe everything

of myself away, I stare back at the wet void

and speak some words of my own:

awesome, fabulous, super, wonderful.

I know that the water is looking for a way in,

hoping that I didn’t put enough force

behind the words, that I don’t mean them.

I wait and for a millisecond I think

that the water will win, that it will take over.

However, the foundations hold.

I look at the water that I’ve held back and realize

that I meant the words after all.

This thought fills me with light.

I watch my beautiful emotions,

remembering well when I would let them

take me over. As I watch, the water

finds a new pathway that wasn’t there before.

I open my eyes and turn away

from the storm that so wants me to succumb.

Not today, I say to myself.

Not today.

Times Mirror – A Poem

I have had a hard time loving myself.

The mirror only shows me

what I don’t want to look at

but I’ve realized over time that I’m hearing

the thoughts of other people.

A previous boyfriend: “You’d be more attractive if you lost twenty pounds.”

I’ve rallied against these thoughts,

these voices of others that are on repeat

inside of my head, talking louder

than my own internal critic.

An ex-husband: “Gosh, try not to look at me head on. Your lazy eye is disgusting.”

I have struggled with how I look for years,

feeling like I’m never thin enough,

or attractive enough to fit in and to belong.

A not friend: “You’re welcome here, even though you’re not beautiful. We’re kind that way.”

For years, I’ve had to fight against the opinions

of people that in the end do not matter to me.

Why then did their words and insults

hold onto my mind, hurting me every time

that I looked into a mirror?

A dentist: “Oh you were born that way? And you just grew to be comfortable with how you look?”

I’m so tired of hearing all of these voices,

the weight of their words dragging me down

until it feels like I can’t hold myself upright.

I no longer want to be triggered the opinions

of other people and what stares back at me

from inside of the mirror.

My husband: “You’re perfect for me.”

I need to remember that I am more beautiful

than my voices think I am.

My husband: “I love your pudge. It’s one of my favourite things about you.”

The opinions of others don’t matter,

only what I think of myself does.

I need to start celebrating what I see in the mirror,

let the words from the past fade from my mind

and the mirror in front of me is so clear

that I can see all the past parts of me

I was taught not to love.

My husband: “Your smile is one of the first things I noticed about you. It lights up a room.”

I cannot hold onto time, for I am not a time lord.

There is no way that I can control what happened

in the past, but I can control my present and my future.

I can control which voices I hear

and what I see in the mirror.

Throughout my past, I was taught to hate myself.

In my present and my future, and now and going forwards,

I will try to look at myself with love.

I will let go of the voices, give them to the wind

so that they are taken away from me.

From now on, every time I see something

that I dislike in the mirror, I will shine brightly

so that all I can see is my light.