I was an extraordinarily mean mom and read Mockingjay (under the pretense that I was previewing for their well-being, but really, of course, I was just stealing my daughters' book from them) before I let my daughters get their hands on it. I finished it yesterday afternoon, and then the girls started reading.
Anne and Betsy took a break to be sociable. We had a friend over for dinner, but after he left, they dove in again. Anne, apparently tired, read awhile but then drifted off. Betsy plowed through and at 2:30 in the morning, she appeared at my bedside whispering, "Mom ... I finished it!" and (this is what enormous book geeks we are) I hugged her then got up and talked about the book with her for an hour.
We liked it.
Still processing everything I want to say about it, though.