By day, I'm a domestic violence prosecutor. By night, I read romance to restore my faith in love, relationships, and humanity in general.
I'd heard great things about this series, billed as "Harry Potter for grown ups." Alas, while I loved the premise, not since Catcher in the Rye have I encountered such an insufferable protagonist. What might have been a great story is bogged down by a jaded narrator who has every advantage served up on a silver platter, but is too mired in self-obsessed ennui to notice; who has (as he never ceases to remind us) genius level intelligence, but makes the worst possible decisions at every turn; who has prodigious talent, but rarely stirs himself to effort; and who cares for nothing and no one, but somehow attracts a cadre of friends who care for him at great personal cost, including his much more talented, more intelligent, MUCH more compassionate girlfriend, who risks all for him despite the fact that he fails her over and over again.
There is a sequel, and I hear there will eventually be a trilogy, but I will not read them: I have wasted enough time waiting for Quentin Coldwater to grow up and evolve into a character worthy of my interest: like Holden Caulfield, he isn't going to.