Every so often, a book comes along that just blows me away. In 2009, it was Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games. This year, it’s Mind Games by Carolyn Crane. Both books have the word “game” in the title, interestingly enough. They also have the two strongest, most likeable heroines I’ve encountered–ever.

When we meet Justine Jones, the heroine of Mind Games, she’s having a mini-freak out at the Mongolian Delites restaurant in Midcity. Justine is a hypochondriac of epic proportions, constantly worrying about the vascular brain disease her mother died of. Although fear consumes her life, she’s not at all hopeless or pathetic. She cares about her cute boyfriend, Cubby, and laments the way her illness puts a strain on their relationship. I found myself smiling at Justine’s antics, rooting for her. The word I’d use for her, and all of the characters in this book, is charismatic. This quality draws the reader in from the first page.

Midcity is an alternate-reality type place, an urban metropolis under attack by dark forces. The world building is fantastic. Justine’s connection to the city is important—as an enthusiastic San Diegan I understand the feeling of protectiveness and community:

The crime wave makes me sad and angry, and every year it gets worse. Midcity used to be a happy city. And in spite of our decaying industry and schools, we managed to stay average in most every measure—people were really proud of that.

Crane’s writing has a quirky, comic flair, filled with fascinating clues and interesting layers. Like Midcity, Justine longs for a return to normalcy. She’s an imploding misfit who dreams of being average—square, even.

Justine is approached by the Disillusionists, a psychological hit squad that uses mind tricks to disarm criminals. The crew needs a hypochondriac. Justine can learn to transfer her fear to others, disillusioning the target and freeing herself. The leader, Sterling Packard, uses questionable methods, but he has a lot of raw magnetism, and Justine is desperate to be well.

Packard explains how Justine will gain the trust of her targets:

He gives me a sly look. It’s intoxicating. “You’ll tell them that you’re a nurse.”

I can barely breathe. “A nurse?” I’ve always wanted to be a nurse, but of course, it’s impossible for someone like me.

“Surely you grasp my reasoning.”

“Oh, yes,” I whisper. Shiver. “People would listen to what I said about health if I was a nurse.” I gaze into his pale green eyes. “You’ve thought of everything.”

“I have,” he says, like it’s a matter of life and death. There’s this hush between us where we understand each other on a new level. I feel like he gets the depth of my impossible dream to become a nurse, and I suddenly get how important the success of the disillusionists is to him.

I say, “It’s all very deliciously diabolical, my friend.”

He smiles, and I smile. We’re both pretty pleased with the plan. And increasingly pleased with each other.

What else did I like about this book? Oh, everything. The writing is exquisite, sharp and deliberate, not a word wasted. It’s also a dense read, full and evocative and beautifully paced. I could not skim this.

I adored Justine. She doesn’t need rescuing, not even once. She uses her beauty and intelligence and freakish mind powers to her advantage. The risks she takes are often shocking, but never stupid or unnecessary. By the last third of the book, I was on the edge of my seat. What is this crazy chick going to do next, OMG?!

Justine’s relationships with men are also very refreshing. Her boyfriend is successful and nice and good in bed. Even so, she’s attracted to Packard, and fantasizes about the handsome police chief. This is no dead-below-the-waist until the hero walks in, “only one man can awaken my sexuality” simpering miss. I enjoyed that about her!

The surrounding cast of characters is fabulous. Justine’s disillusionist friend, Shelby, is a ruthless Russian pragmatist. Simon is a reckless, intriguing bad boy, and I hope we see more of him in the next installment. Even the villains are strangely appealing and relatable.

I can’t say enough good things about this book. I loved, loved, loved it. A+.