Neil Gaimanâs American Gods meets Jennifer Mason-Blackâs Devil and the Bluebird in this modern adaptation of the Greek legend The Twelve Labors of Hercules for young adult fantasy readers.
Valentine Cash is dead.
When she dies in an accidental collision she caused on the cusp of musical fame, Valentine is offered a deal: Complete a series of difficult tasks to get her life back. Fail, and she dies a final, everlasting death. Guided by Route 66 the Mother Road of America on her quest, she tackles one herculean task after another, giving up a piece of herself with each trial.
Valentine begins to understand that the fame she once sought wonât bring her happiness or belonging â and if she fulfills the penance, she must decide whatâs more important: Her old life or restoring the lives of the strangers who died alongside her.
The young and the ancient, the tangible and the mythical, collide as Valentine learns the true meaning of redemption, connection, and the enduring power of the human spirit.
Neil Gaimanâs American Gods meets Jennifer Mason-Blackâs Devil and the Bluebird in this modern adaptation of the Greek legend The Twelve Labors of Hercules for young adult fantasy readers.
Valentine Cash is dead.
When she dies in an accidental collision she caused on the cusp of musical fame, Valentine is offered a deal: Complete a series of difficult tasks to get her life back. Fail, and she dies a final, everlasting death. Guided by Route 66 the Mother Road of America on her quest, she tackles one herculean task after another, giving up a piece of herself with each trial.
Valentine begins to understand that the fame she once sought wonât bring her happiness or belonging â and if she fulfills the penance, she must decide whatâs more important: Her old life or restoring the lives of the strangers who died alongside her.
The young and the ancient, the tangible and the mythical, collide as Valentine learns the true meaning of redemption, connection, and the enduring power of the human spirit.
âThis is it, kid,â Loretta said. The manager sat back in her chair and sipped on a Lariatini. âThis is the start of something big.â    Â
After Valentineâs album deal had been signed at Defiance Studios earlier that afternoon, Loretta had insisted on treating Valentine at their favorite bar, a gaudy pink refuge called the Hoity Toity. The rundown honky tonk was festooned with velveteen damask patterned wallpaper and bordello lamp shades draped in heavy fringe that rested upon worn wooden tables, and served Western-themed cocktails: Lariatini. Barrel Race. Saddlesore. Valentine knew that Loretta couldnât get enough of the fancy concoctions, and if they sat in the minorsâ section, with the tourists and their loud children, the barkeep didnât bat an eye in their direction. Valentine always got the YeeHaw Tots â tater tots smothered in cheesy bacon heaven.
It had been a good day.
One of the best days of her life, actually.
Valentine looked up from the YeeHaw Tots after Loretta finished speaking. She swallowed hard, searching for the right words. Talking about the real things, the stuff that mattered, had always been hard for her. âThank you, Loretta. For everything. I really⌠I mean it.â
Loretta waved away her gratitude, chuckling. âSave the thanks until after the first tour. You may curse me instead. Tours are brutal.â
âWhat were your tours like?â Valentine asked.Â
âAwful.â Loretta took a healthy swallow of her cocktail. âOf course, I traveled with my alcoholic ex-husband on a derelict bus across the country, so that may have been why.â
âDid you enjoy any of it?â Valentine ate another tot.
A child at a nearby table squealed as he dropped his toy on the floor. The parents sniped at each other, arguing over something Valentine couldnât quite hear.
Loretta thought for a moment, her gaze unfocused as memories crowded in. âYes. When the fans shared how much a particular song meant to them, or that theyâd used one of my songs for a wedding or a funeral â I loved those moments. I felt like I had contributed somethingâŚdecent to the world instead of just fighting with my husband at the time.â Loretta shook her head. âYouâll see. This road, it changes you.â
Valentine nodded, more to herself than in response to Loretta. She understood that compulsion, the want to give something to the world, something decent and brave and honest. She thought of all the work that had led up to this evening.
Loretta looked up from her salad. âSo, what are you going to do with the money?â
Valentine paused, a tater tot in mid-air. Cheese dripped onto the plate. âI hadnât thought that far ahead.â
âDo me a favor?â The older woman sipped from a new cocktail, the Rhinestone Cowboy, with a pearlescent rim around the top.
âWhat?â
âDonât spend it on women and drugs.â
Valentine gave a crack of laughter, then shook her head. She avoided looking at Cara, a pretty brunette waitress with a gap in her teeth and the widest, most welcoming smile, working across the dark room. Cara was the best thing about the Hoity Toity, as far as Valentine was concerned. Even better than the YeeHaw Tots.
âNo, Iâm not gonna do that.â Valentine winced. She wasnât exactly at ease with the ladies. Sheâd never even made eye contact with Cara, let alone flirted with her. âI need someone to spend my money on first.âÂ
Loretta snorted; her lips twisted. âDonât worry. Once they know youâve got money, theyâll come crawling out of the woodwork. Not everyone is a user butâŚâ Loretta finished her drink in one long swallow. âBut itâs better to be wary.â
Valentine ate another tot. âItâs kind of silly butâŚI want to buy one of those little shotgun houses. You know, one or two bedrooms. Simple. It doesnât have to be big.â She shrugged, trying not to reveal the depth of her feelings. âI want my own home.â
A brief silence. Then, âI get that, kid.â
Valentine sneaked a glance over at Loretta. The older woman watched her with a tender look, equal parts of pity and understanding. Her throat closed, and Valentine looked away. She went back to working on the mess of tots in front of her.Â
***
Valentine said her farewells to Loretta inside the bar.Â
âCongratulations again, Valentine.â Lorettaâs voice was somber, hushed. âYouâve worked hard for this. I know youâll make the most of it.â
Valentine shuffled on her feet as a flush of warmth stole through her. âThanks,â she said, her voice gruff. She wasnât used to hearing praise from others. At least, the ones that meant something to her. âGoodnight, Loretta.â
âGoodnight, kid.â
Out in the parking lot, Valentine approached the worn-down lime green economy car she had purchased from a co-worker. The vehicle was on its last legs, or wheels maybe, and she had kept the little car alive through thoughts and prayers but mostly curses. Now I can afford to replace it. She smiled, pleased by that thought, as she unlocked the driverâs side and jimmied open the half-broken door. Valentine could name a dozen songs about these feelings but hadnât felt them often in the last few years: Pride. Happiness.
Relief.
The roads were thick with cars, and rain had started up just as Valentine drove out of the parking lot adjacent to the Hoity Toity. Leaning forward, she peered through the sheet of water barely held back by the creaking windshield wipers.
Her phone buzzed in her shoulder pack on the passenger seat.
Valentine ignored it. This rain is something else.
The phone buzzed again.Â
And continued to buzz.Â
Without taking her eyes off the road, Valentine reached over to grab the phone. She glanced at the screen and almost dropped it. Shock, then trepidation coated her stomach.
Her parents were calling.Â
She hadnât heard from them in two years. Why now?
Bright lights sliced through the edge of her vision. Valentine whipped her head to peer through the obscured windshield.
Somehow, she had wandered across the double yellow lines, into oncoming traffic. A dark blue sedan approached her, its horn blaring a siren of danger.
The sound jarred her out of her shock, and Valentine wrenched the steering wheel to the right, hoping to get into the correct lane.Â
But it was too late.
Valentine heard the impact before she felt it.
Metal grated on metal, an accordion screech that hurt her ears. The headlights popped, and the lights went out. The windows shattered â
Valentine threw up her hands to protect her face. Then, the impact came.
Valentine felt the stinging cuts of the glass, the slam of her body first against the seatbelt, then to the driverâs side door. Her left arm broke on the second slam. She heard the snap and looked down. Bone and blood rose from the serrated flesh.
She heard the screams from the other vehicle.Â
Iâm sorry. Oh shit, Iâm sorry, Iâm so sorry.Â
Black crept across her vision. The cold and the pain that draped across her body grew dimmer and fainter, then ceased altogether.Â
The Penance of Valentine Cash by Rebecca Rook follows young country musician/singer-songwriter Valentine Cash after her agent scores her the tour deal of a lifetime. Unfortunately, after meeting with her agent about the exciting news, Valentine gets into a car crash that very same night and dies. Immediately, she awakens in a world not quite unlike our own but with gods and legends come to life. There, she meets three legends that offer her the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to fulfill a series of difficult tasks in order to regain her life. With the help of some unlikely companions, Valentine takes on this seemingly impossible quest and comes to interrogate her own understanding of what is most important to her in life.
This novel was a delight to read. The cast of characters is rich and diverse, and Rook takes the reader on a lush journey through several states with her vibrant and thoughtful descriptions. I could almost feel the weighty heat of the sun on my back while reading about Valentineâs toil, and the landscapes described throughout the novel were so beautiful. Rookâs colorful and vivid descriptions are really a strong point of this book. I also found the characters in this novel to be relatable and lovable, and I appreciated Rook taking us on the journey of the ebbs and flows of Valentineâs grief and her internal struggle.
Rook also delves into themes of queerness and gender, which I found refreshing to read about. With the setting of a world outside the grasp of reality, I loved that Rook explored different depictions of gender that seemingly juxtaposed what Valentine was familiar with in her life. Additionally, I appreciated the normalization of queer identities in the way this novel was written.
Something I struggled with while reading was that the distinction between our world and the world Valentine finds herself in upon her death wasnât super clear at points. There were a few moments where Valentine did something that seemed to have consequences in the real world, but she was able to escape real-world scrutiny by traveling through this afterlife realm. The overlap between these two worlds could have been further explained in the novel.Â
Furthermore, the world and cast of characters that Rook builds here felt generally deserving of a longer novel. I would have really liked to get even deeper into the intricacies of this world and the characters. Specifically, I wanted to see more of the three legends that Valentine makes her deal with. It felt like we got a rather one-sided view of these characters in the novel, and I would have loved to have gotten more context on these characters and how they got their role in this world.
Overall, The Penance of Valentine Cash by Rebecca Rook was a very fun read and I found myself rooting for the characters more and more as the story progressed. Trigger warnings for this novel include a car accident, brief mentions of homophobia, grief, violence, and graphic injury. I would recommend this novel to anyone who enjoys fast-paced young adult fantasy, unlikely companionship, and nuanced depictions of grief.