No, no, and no ! That was catastrophically hurried, despite the fair length, lacking a huge deal in the areas of description, psychology, plotting and pacing, and so damn bland that the appeal of this fresh take on such hugely overdone topics as Atlantis, the awakening of an entire pantheon of forgotten gods, and below-the-scenes tug of war for the safekeeping of humanity, does not appear at all. Mrs Brown has to be exposed as a dullard who has written a story of mermaids that is about as well plotted (the intrigue has so many holes in it that it could serve as a colander to make pasta) and exciting as the average episode of that old cartoon Snorks; she managed to make the fabulous sunken city a joke, not excluding the few temples housing Oracles, and her gods (only two of whose fortunately appear in this first instalment) living clichés. Nothing looks fully fleshed out, not even the wonders from deep in the seas - there only seems to be sharks, tridents, varech and grottos down there -, and if by chance details have been provided, those tend to belong to the realm of utter caricature; thus the dragons (!) that serve as sentinels at the outer edges of the city or the way by law the mermaids temporarily mate to try and reproduce looks to have been taken straight from the discarded sheets for a school pupil's English composition (why, on God's green earth, cannot they screw underwater instead of going through the tedious process of swimming to the mating grounds on a deserted island, changing to their human form, and having sex in the sand the two nights of the solstices at the apex of a week of sexual frenzy ? does not seem at all a fire-proof reproductive strategy). As for the characters, none of them exhibits a modicum of depth, the worse offenders being the two echoing families (the Atlantean royals and the Seabrooks) who tend to talk and behave like lunatics with a bee in their bonnet. Last but not least, the plot itself is as trite and unmemorable and full of fortunate coincidences and instances of the writer playing omnipotent god over her creation, as could be crammed in three hundred pages; for example, it is really a decree of fate that has the Seabrook patriarch get a son from a beautiful passing mermaid (yeah right!), the other of whom she kept for herself - for she bore the human twins - and passed off to her husband the king of Atlantis as their legitimate child under certain specific provisos and in circumstances that no ruler worth half their crown would not have seen through. In so many words: quixotic to the point of lunacy without any redeeming qualities of imagination, visualization and originality, written in undistinguished, boring prose that only seems to command a restricted number of verbs, adjectives and substantives, horribly paced with no balance between action sequences, tibidts of world building and flabby passages of bland fluff, Forbidden Waters is the literary equivalent of the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans that taste of earthworm: all grease and bad meat with no sinew.