I don't like starting book series before they are completed. This principle has served me well for decades, sparing me that agonizing, protracted wait between volumes.
Then along comes L.S. King, who happens to be a longtime online friend of mine. "My book! My new book! Read it, read it, pleeeeeeeease!"
I intended to remain firm. But how to tactfully turn down a friend? Besides, the cover art was enticing. I figured, light YA space opera with medieval trappings, couple of days in my spare time to support a fellow artist and super nice person--painless and move on, everybody's happy
And then I started reading. Three hours of full immersion later, panic set in as I realized I'd come to the end of the book. Having violated my own Law of the Series, I must now pay the penalty of living in agonized speculation until the next episode is available.
The story is well-paced, masterfully crafted, and delivers on every level. I want more. I need more. I shall pant and obsess wildly and fill the author's social networking pages with demands for MORE, MORE, MORE!