Beth Tabler

The final book in The Omte Origins, Ever After, brings to a close the exciting series staring Ullaakuut “Ulla” Tulin. While the previous novels in the series had a lighter tone, Ever After delves into Ulla's experiences as she was held captive by the Älvolk and its traumatic effects on her psyche.

In this final story, Ulla and her friends from her time in Merella search for the mythical first city and the bridge that connects the realms. The Omte Origins series is just that, the origins of the Omte people talked about in her Trylle series. If you are familiar with the Omte series of books and the rich history that Amanda Hocking created. One of the aspects that I enjoyed in the original series was taking the idea of a troll and turning it on its ear.

Trolls have always been depicted as dirty and scary creatures, a la Harry Potter. Instead, the history of the troll people is much more complicated, nodding to both Scandanavian and Norse people. The original series touches on some of the mythos, but I am glad that Hocking took the time and detailing of this series to flesh out the ideas.

The Omte Origins story follows a naive Ulla, as she first comes to Merella for education and a chance to research her family find who abandoned her. Even with everything Ulla has been through, she has an endearing kindness that permeates her interactions with people. This draws people to her. In the previous two books, Ulla meets Dagny and Pan. Both become very important in her life but in different ways. Dagny becomes a surly sister and Pan a love interest. This basis of family helps give Ulla the stability to seek her missing family and find out what really happened.

Ever After is a super fun conclusion to the series. It is both heartfelt and action-packed, which is par for the course for Hocking's books. They are always a good mashup. Check out this series and all of the Trylle books.

Often when discussing women in history, it is the same few women, Joan of Arc, Marie Curie, Jane Austen, or Rosa Parks to name a few. The thing is that these women are amazing pioneers but often overshadow courageous women who stepped out of the norm and should also be recognized. That is the magic of this book. It celebrates women who should be praised but do not necessarily have a national holiday named after them or a roadway.

Do you want to learn about the first bearded lady or the first gynecologist? Or, Georgina Reid – the woman who set out over twenty years to save a long-abandoned but beautiful lighthouse? You do, you really do.


Georgina Reid was a little old lady who noticed that after finding her and her husbands dream coastal home, they were losing about a foot of erosion off of the cliff face the house perched on. Pretty soon Georgina's garden would literally fall by the wayside. With no engineering experience, Georgina started to study Japanese terracing techniques. Working tirelessly, sometimes by herself or sometimes with her husband, she remedied the erosion by building terraces of sand and plant. She stopped the erosion of her property while her neighbors eroded away. Next stop, The Montauk Lighthouse was established in 1795. The lighthouse is a longstanding and loved feature of the community that had been recently decommissioned due to erosion. Georgina began to tackle the problem, and it took her 17 years. She steadily worked for 17 years. She saved the landmark, and this woman is a brazen rebel lady.


We need role models like this for people to celebrate.

Joan of Arc was an amazing woman. She led a revolution. But she is far removed from mine and my daughter's comprehension. Georgina Reid is someone I can teach my daughter about and who we can relate to. She is one of many brazen women featured in this graphic novel and worth the celebration.


Each of the selected women has a few page spread giving background on her life and celebrating some big moments. The vignettes also discuss what has happened after they have passed away, if applicable, and the legacy they left. The graphics are simple, but effective and lovely. I read a little of it to my four-year-old, and she loved it, but I was into it also. It is stories and graphics for all ages.

Highly Recommend.

This book follows the story of two main characters, Prince Sebastian as he comes to terms with who he is and what he enjoys doing and Francis the brilliant seamstress. Sebastian enjoys dressing up in beautiful woman's clothing. Francis is a talented dressmaker and Sebastian's best friend that creates works of art for him to wear. Together they explore friendship and navigate what it means to love someone unconditionally.

I fervently wish that books like this existed when I was a preteen/teenager. I think that if I have had access to literature of this quality and subject content, maybe the world would have not seemed so strange and foreign when I left my protective bubble as a child and became an adult. Not only is this book well written and beautifully executed, but it is also an important subject because people are people, no matter how small... how they want to dress, or how they see themselves.

This book primarily deals with being different and how people will love you an except you given half the chance. The prince is a crossdresser, he likes big and beautiful dresses, specifically those of a seamstress that he has befriended. Together they form a partnership based on friendship and eventually love. This story is the perfect blend of sweetness, authenticity, joy, sadness and ultimately love overlayed with Jen Wang's gorgeous illustrations.

Guillermo del Toro and Chuck Hogan have returned with a new brand of exquisite horror for their readers in The Hollow Ones. The writing team has a way of using language and imagery that creeps into the marrow of your bones in their writing. Whether they are invoking psychological terror or writing about things that go bump in the night, they scare and scare well. Del Toro and Chuck Hogan are also authors of the New York Times bestselling series, The Strain trilogy, adapted to the hit tv show The Strain by FX that aired between 2014 – 2017. Del Toro is a director and writer with notable movies such as Mimic, Hellboy, and Pan's Labyrinth. Chuck Hogan, who is both a writer of screenplays and novels, has eight books of horror and mystery stories.

“To anyone other than a law enforcement professional, the classification of the crime matters little. The only truly important fact of the matter was that, for more than sixty years, Unruh's shooting spree stood as the worst rampage killing in New Jersey.

That is, until the night Walt Leppo ordered meatloaf.”

52594581The Hollow Ones follows FBI Agent Odessa Hardwicke as she tracks down who or more importantly what killed her partner. Because even though Odessa pulled the trigger, something happened to her partner before he went crazy. And, like a cat, Odessa is full of curiosity that might get her killed. She wants to know who or what is causing this string of murder and suicides in her city. A low-level desk assignment leads her to a senior FBI agent Earl Solomon, who is coming to the end of his life. Earl introduces her to the mysterious John Silence, a man who is so much more than he seems. The John Silence character is originally based on an Algernon Blackwood character written in the early 1900s about the ‘psychic physician.' Between Silence's stoicism and mystery and Odessa's curiosity, the two follow a trail of demons, magic, and the occult that leads to the answer of what killed Odessa's partner.

The Hollow Ones are two dueling narratives. That of young and intrepid FBI agent Odessa Hardwicke. Who in the opening scenes of the story has to make a career-ending decision of killing her partner or watch him kill someone. It is unexplainable what happened to Odessa's partner, and the FBI is in the business of real data and evidence. This case is a career-ender for Odessa. She is put on a desk job that leads her to clean out former agent Solomon's office. Odessa brings Solomon his things in the hospital. We flash to the other narrative of a young and bold Solomon at the beginning of his career in the 1960s. He is the first African American agent in the FBI and is investigating the lynching of a white man in the south. Solomon crosses path with John Silence and with John Solomon investigates the death. There are parallels drawn between Solomon's and Odessa's career. Each follows a similar path with the commonality of John Silence.

“Odessa was riveted, reexperiencing her own trauma as she listened.”

The Hollow Ones: Amazon.co.uk: Toro, Guillermo del, Hogan, Chuck ...Solomon has aged and is now laying dying in the hospital, Odessa is a brand new agent being first introduced to the occult, yet John Silence is the same as ever. As the story progresses, the two distinct stories wind around each other until they eventually mesh into present times. Dek Toro and Hogan do this well. The pacing of the story is quick and exciting. I was as invested in Odessa's fate as I was Solomons. However, there is a sparseness to the writing that leads to a lack of character development. I wanted more from these characters, especially Silence. It is one thing to tell me that Silence has been around a long time, and it is another to demonstrate that. Same with Solomon. A reader could learn so much more from him. Instead, it felt like Solomon was a passing conduit to get Odessa to John Silence. Parts of this book almost felt like reading a screenplay without set descriptions; it perfectly played out in Del Toro's and Hogan's head but did not quite make the transition to the written page. And even though it was still a very entertaining story, the brusqueness of the dialog and story beats left me feeling disconnected from the characters.

“He remembered she recoiled from the taste, the flavor of solder lingering in his mouth. She said she woke the next morning with the burnt taste still upon her palate, the source of which he could not explain.”

However, even though the story felt compressed, there is still enough meat for a great trilogy. We are just starting on our journey with Odessa and John Silence, but if this story is any indication of the thrills in the upcoming books, we are in for a treat.

P. Djèlí Clark writes lush masterworks, his newest book to his collection of stories in The Dead Djinn Universe is A Master of Djinn. And, much like his other short-form works, A Master of Djinn is an intense sensory experience, with engaging characters, dialog, and kick-ass fight scenes.

It is no secret that I am a fan of his novels.  The Haunting of Tram Car 015 and A Dead Djinn in Cairo are gorgeous works of short-form fantasy. He has a knack for describing things to such a degree that you shouldn't be surprised if the red sands of Egypt poured out between your pages or you start to smell the heady incense of the streets of Cairo. If you listen very closely, you could probably hear drums thrumming while you read. 

“The three of them sat there - A Ministry agent, a half-djinn, and a cat (likely), staring out past the balcony to the sleeping city they somehow had to find a way to save.”

This kind of description is probably not for everyone. It can meander a bit, slow down the plot a little. If you are a fan of punchy stories, this one is probably not for you. 

The story's plot is a solid murder mystery staring Agent Fatima el- Sha'awari, who works for the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments, and Supernatural Entities. We were introduced to her in Clark's other novellas, The Haunting of Tram Car 015 and A Dead Djinn in Cairo and the short story The Angel of Khan el-Khalili. We are back in 1912 Cairo. Djinn and all manner of creatures are a part of daily life. Fatima is investigating the murder of a dozen brutally burned people, The Brotherhood of Al-Jahiz. The corpses' clothes were untouched. It is as if they were scorched from the inside out. 

Al-Jahiz transformed the world 50 years ago when he opened up the veil between the magical and mundane realms before vanishing into the unknown. Fatima, her girlfriend Siti, and her new partner try to unravel the case before the supernatural forces kill us all. Of course, things all go pear-shaped. 

“Even a rich man must sometimes eat with beggars.”

One of the aspects I loved was the subtle subtext of defining what feminity is. On the one hand, you have Fatima, badass in a dapper suit in a world full of ultra-conservative people. On the other, you have a couple of characters in the story that are the epitome of what women are supposed to be in 1912 Cairo. Meek and mild. They wouldn't hurt a fly. I enjoyed the interplay off of the characters with a few twists. And while the ending was of no great surprise to me, I enjoyed the dynamic and the journey getting there. 

Unlike Clark's novellas and short stories, the characters didn't completely click with me. Fatima is supposed to be a shrewd investigator. She is no novice when it comes to dealing with the supernatural creatures of Cairo. However, at times Fatima seemed almost bumbling. Plot details that were essential points of interest for the murder case seem to get overlooked for a few chapters. While sweet, Fatima's romance with Siti lacks the intensity that I think Clark was trying to convey. They had a solid connection, but they seemed to be casually dating rather than be in a relationship. 

“You! You can't just walk in here! This is a crime scene!” “That would explain the dead bodies, then,” she replied. He blinked dumbly, and she sighed. Wasting good sarcasm was annoying.”

The action sequences were like watching a Michael Bay movie in my head. They were fantastic. His pacing and descriptions get you into the characters while they battle. It balanced well against the story as it slowed down a bit in some sections. 

To my knowledge, this is Clark's first step into full-length novels. And as such, this first novel has some minor pacing and dialog problems. It feels like he was making himself comfortable in this length of a story. However, in typical Clark fashion, it is generally an excellent story with superb descriptions and an engaging who-done-it plot. Is it perfect? Not quite. But it is enjoyable as hell, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a great murder fantasy mystery. I can't wait to read more works in this series.

Did you know that sometimes Stephen King is not scary, not all stories need terror. Sometimes existential dread will do the trick. If you are scared of the future and where you fit into the grand scheme of the world, then Gwendy's Button Box is the story for you.

In my quest to read all the King novels, including his more obscure stuff, I came across this little gem. It stars Gwendy, as in a mash-up of Gwendolin and Wendy, as a typical young girl in the 1970s. The first scene if of Gwendy doing laps on a dangerous set of steps called the Suicide Steps. One of her classmates called her fat, and this has caused an intense need to exercise and lose any pudge that the 11-year-old might be holding on to. The theme of self-acceptance comes up often as a significant theme throughout the story. Gwendy needs everyone to accept her, and the button box offers a way for her to be above reproach. Gwendy encounters a weird man in a black top hat on her way to leave the Suicide Steps. Again, strange people in top hats are a common occurrence in Stephen King's books. Still, I have no idea why top hats are a trigger point for the bizarre in King's worlds, but there you go. The enigmatic man offers Gwendy a choice, take the mysterious black box with buttons, a box that Gwendy feels to the marrow of her bones that belongs to her, or don't. Of course, Wendy accepts the responsibility of the box. And it is a responsibility because as the story progresses, we come to understand the innate power that the box has over the universe. Triggers and switches on the box can crush whole continents, buttons, and levers can make any desire that Gwendy has come true. Gwendy is not just some girl; she was, in a way, selected to protect the box for several years. In exchange for her acceptance and protection of the power of the box, Gwendy gets perks. She is gorgeous and healthy. Everything that she strives to do is effortless.

With an effortless existence comes a bit of ennui. What is she pulled a lever? Why does any of this matter at all? Coupled with typical teenageness, Gwendy has a difficult time controlling her impulses. That is the crux of the story more than the black button box. Given infinite power, what should Gwendy do? How does one weigh morals against exercising her power?

Gwendy is haunted by her ability to do destruction.

This is a good Stephen King story. Instead of gross-out scares, we have the haunting of the mind and soul, which is think is way more interested than just being scared or disgusted. King does this kind of dread well; you see it a lot in his novels. It makes me think of the existential dread many of the characters in The Stand face.

I loved this story, more so than some of the recent Stephen king shorts and novellas I have been reading. Elevation I am looking at you; you are lame-sauce.

If you are looking for dread laced in your horror like strychnine on a cookie, this story is for you. And, at just under 30k words, it isn't huge.

Give Gwendy's Button Box a try.

If you would like to read more of my reviews or various other bookish things please come by my blogat https://beforewegoblog.com/

The Echo Wife by author Sarah Gailey is a story that so many people who have been in relationships understand. Love can be sloppy; it can be messy and painful. Sarah takes what could have been a typical romantic triangle type of story and puts a beautiful science fiction twist on it. What happens when your husband leaves you for another woman? And what if that woman happens to be your clone?

“The floor was well polished.
Dragging him across it wasn't hard at all.”

Evelyn Caldwell is successful, brilliant, and driven. She is everything her husband wants...almost. Evelyn is a brilliant research scientist, a pioneer in cloning technology that allows clones not to be just physiological copies but also copies of personalities. Her personal life is very much unlike her professional life. She is calculating and brilliant; at home, she is standoffish with her husband, Nathan. She gets frustrated with him. But then Nathan dies in questionable circumstances, and things get messy, especially when Martine comes into play.

There are things that Evelyn doesn't know. Nathan has left her for another woman, but that woman, Martine, is a copy of her. Not only that, but Nathan has used the Caldwell method, a method that Evelyn developed to weed out what he thinks of were undesirable personality traits. It has a very Stepford Wives meets Frankenstein gone wild feel to it. The death of Nathan causes a weird alliance with Martine, her clone. There is a love triangle aspect to the story, sure. But more importantly, Gailey takes the unlikely buddy crime story and turns it on its ear.

“He was relieved to have told me. He transmuted his guilt into my anger and now I was the one who had to carry it and he had the audacity to be relieved.”

I know what you are thinking; the premise of this sounds like a science-fiction soap opera. In lesser hands, the story could have come off that way. But Sarah Gailey is a brilliant writer, and instead of contrived science fiction nonsense, we get a deep intellectual story about relationships. Are we nature or nurture? Would we have come out the same had we lived in different circumstances? According to Gailey, the answers to that are way more complicated.

The story is dark and intelligent. I love that Gailey got me thinking. I think a mark of any good science fiction novel is when you are thinking about it long after the story has ended. And to be sure, I spent a long thinking about the characters and some of the philosophical questions they write about in The Echo Wife.

“There were other holes scattered through the yard, shallow ones, and I realized that she must have been searching for the boundaries of her discovery—trying to see if her entire garden was planted on a necropolis.”

Also, the story is packed! It is a significant idea and premise that has been condensed down to raw writing and emotions. There is not an ounce of flouncing around with swirly dialect and unnecessary scenes. The story is tight, and the dialog is crisp. Exactly what should happen in a story of this length.

Once again, I am deeply affected by the skill of author Sarah Gailey. I think that if you love interesting philosophical questions and a unique story around cloning, this is a good fit for you.

George A. Romero, the author of the recently released The Living Dead, was a legend in the horror industry. His work defined the genre and influenced the next generation of horror filmmakers, horror writers, and zombified horror lovers. We have stories like Mira Grant's Newsflesh series, The Girl With All The Gifts by Mike Carey, and World War Z by Max Brooks because of his work. In the new generation of horror writers, zombies' ideas have changed and grown: do they shuffle, run fast, eat your brains, or come together in a mob.

But the concept remains the same; it is man vs. the unknown or supernatural. And, zombies are just that, entirely outside of the human condition. Something is born, lives, and then dies. It is usually the natural order of things. Through Romero's extensive zombie catalog of both screen and novels, I always feel like his primary question is, “But what if things didn't just die but came back as other? What does that mean for society and humanity at large?” I think that is why zombies as an antagonist are such a successful thing. It goes against everything humans know and understand, and that by itself is terrifying.

“Now the vulture has eaten the dove, the wolf has eaten the lamb; the lion has devoured the sharp-horned buffalo; man has killed the lion with the arrow, with the sword, with the powder; but the Horla will make man into what we made the horse and the steer: his thing, his servant and his food, by the simple power of his will. Our woe is upon us.” —Guy de Maupassant, The Horla

Sadly, Romero did not live to see his final work finished and published. It was picked up by best selling author Daniel Kraus to pull together from the existing writing and notes and complete the task. Not a small job to be sure with its size and gravitas. With Kraus's writing skill, The Living Dead turned into an amalgamation of both their voices that complemented each other and melded into a strong narrative.

The book begins with an outbreak of a sort on 11/23. We do not get the why of things or much of a “before.” We start with the descent into societal chaos and madness where the dead have begun fighting their body bags like a moth battles its chrysalis. It is a terrifying visual. In one of the first scenes, a morgue where two forensic scientists are working on a recently deceased John Doe. The scientists, Luis and Charleen, are startled when the partially flayed body throws itself off the medical examining table and slowly begins dragging its body toward Luis.

“The dull light that had animated John Doe's white eyes dimmed. The body sagged to the floor, limp as a steak, except for the head, which was still noosed in computer cables. Bloody drool, the last thing John Doe would ever offer, skimmed down a power cord.”

As if these risings are led by a conductor, hell is breaking loose all across the world, and bodies are rising at once. Screams are heard. Cars are crashing. The dead are rising, with only one hunger, and that is for humans flesh.

Structure wise, The Living Dead is a series of character vignettes. Each character has what amounts to a short story about their initial experiences with the zombie rising. Some are longer than others, but mostly we get an in-depth look into these character's reactions. But, I spent a lot of time when reading this mammoth of a book attempting to figure out why all these characters were necessary. Don't get me wrong; there are many interesting characters we learn a lot about. For instance, we have Greer, an African American high school student living in a trailer park. Ghouls trap her in the trailer and try to eat her. We have Chuck Corso, a vain journalist, stuck in a newsroom trying to get the news out for as long as possible. We learn why he is arrogant and how that vanity played out in his life pre-zombies. He goes through an epiphany at the newsdesk, realizing that narcissism is not as important as information. And, my favorite scenes take place on an aircraft carrier. You could imagine what that looks like—the dead wreaking havoc on a floating city.

There are more essential viewpoints scattered throughout the book. Some are long and some just a few pages—all designed to paint a grim picture of humanity's final days. However, one of the quibbles I have with this story is that even though we have multiple viewpoints and over a 15-year timeframe, none of it felt cohesive. Why are we reading about this character? Why is this character's experience highlighted, and what part do they play in the grand scheme of things? There are obvious similarities to Stephen King's The Stand. Both are character-heavy end of the world type stories. Both start with character vignettes. But, where The Living Dead goes from the apocalypse, a sharp demarcation line, and then 15 years later, The Stand incorporates each character's journey in meeting the other ones on a destination to the end of the story. There is a solid middle of that story, and this middle solidified why these characters are essential and what role they play. The Living Dead does not do that, not really, and I found that to be a missed opportunity and would have increased the story's cohesion.

That being said, The Living Dead does make some small attempts at showing some of the story's middles and how the characters got from point A to point Z. This is done in the form of interviews written and kept for posterity. The interviews attempt to fill in the blanks, but it didn't explain many the whys? Why did everyone end up where they did? Maybe the middle wasn't necessary for this narrative because it was a lot of darkness and struggle. The authors tried to explain how everything happened, but I never felt like that was very clear, and I am still not sure. I don't completely understand how the zombie plague occurred.

Another quibble I have is that this book is overly long. The detail that Kraus and Romero put in is both enjoyable and, at times, wholly unnecessary. Again, we get to the question of why. I have thoughts on why this may have happened. A lot of this novel is written from notes from Romero. Maybe, Kraus wanted to use EVERYTHING that Romero had written. I am not saying that the pacing was off or anything because of its length. The Living Dead kept up breakneck pacing through much of the book. But it was a lot of breakneck pacing, and after the first 500 pages or so, it got a bit exhausting.

”.. keep fighting, keep surviving until the end.”

Even with both of the quibbles, it was still an exciting and well-written zombie book. It is a perfect farewell from the horror master, George Romero, and undoubtedly will become part of the zombie enthusiast's lexicon. It is right up there with other zombie titles. Kraus did a solid job distilling Romero's ideas and breaking them into usable parts, even if those parts were numerous and vast. It has the same flair as many of Romero's movies, but we have a deeper understanding of the characters with its character-focused writing. More then we could ever have from a two-hour film. All in all, The Living Dead is a celebration of Romero and his influence on modern horror, and we horror enthusiasts are better for having this book in the world.

Thank you for everything, George. We will miss you.

Reviewing “How the Trick Is Done” by A.C Wise

There is a secret trick in reading “How The Trick Is Done” by A C Wise. The trick is to see past The Magician as just a flat character. And understand the abuse and narcissism that a figure like the unnamed Magician represents.

The tragedy of this well-crafted story is not the death of The Magician. All creatures die, some deserve it, some don't. But in the immortal words of The Dixie Chicks, “Earl had to die, goodbye Earl.” The real tragedy is the love that is abused and neglected by The Magician. First, in the form of Meg, the assistant who loved The Magician and was cruelly cast aside. Meg committed suicide by jumping off of The Hoover Dam in her grief. Secondly, the stage rabbit. The Magician could not bother to learn the real name of. Thirdly is the stagehand who is constantly overlooked. Not all love has to or can be reciprocated; however, there is a certain caustic cruelness to The Magician. He is a man who can only see as far as the light that personally shines off of him. And, in that, others will get hurt.

“It's not the Magician's infidelity. Like the Magician himself, she's grown used to that. The Magician could kiss hundreds, flirt with thousands, fuck every person he meets, and Angie wouldn't care. The kiss means nothing to the Magician, and to Rory it means the world. That, Angie, can't abide.”

Enter the resurrectionist, Angie. While the stage magic of The Magician is a created thing, Angie is the real deal. She is magic and able to resurrect those that have died, although it hurts her. What can Angie do to right The Magician's wrongs?

“It's getting harder to hold everything together, to want to hold it together—tell the bullet to stop, to cease to be once it's inside the Magician's skin, and tell the Magician's blood to go. She sleeps eighteen hours a day, and it isn't enough. Angie's life has become an endless cycle—wake, eat, turn back death, applause that isn't for her, sleep, repeat ad infinitum.”

“How The Trick Is Done” is a great story and worthy of its nomination.

Getting old is more than marking days off on a calendar. It is a state of mind. Age can happen over many years with slow growth, tremulously, and wobbly marching towards adulthood and old age. Or age can occur in an instant. It is marked by one moment, a precipice that you are thrown off of never to be the same. Heloise started this series as a child, naive, young and untested. Not any more. Heloise is an old soul now - battle-scarred, hardened, and worldly. In a way, her forced toughness is a little death. The death of who Heloise could have been. She could have been someone's wife, a mother, and a partner. Maybe Heloise can be those things in the future. If she can survive the coming events. She has already lost pieces of herself, more than the physical (an arm, and now an eye.) Maybe those are things that she no longer wants.

We have a lot of maybes at the end of book two.

What I can tell you is that this book is nearly as good as the first one. (please see my glowing review here) I said that Heloise is the hero that we need now. It still holds I think Heloise is the hero that this story needs and the hero that we, as a society, need to read. We need strong female characters that are not written into the corner of false insusceptibility. The vulnerability can be a strength if one can conquer it. Courage is not the absence of fear, but the power to overcome weakness and terror to do what needs to be done. Heloise does that. Cole has written a female character outside of the archetypes. Authors either write female warrior characters as fearless and invulnerable, which is false and frankly lazy. Or they write them as needy. They need to be saved, and usually, that is by some hunky and strong man. Heloise is neither. She is vulnerable, and the epitome of strength all rolled into an iron machine set to save and free her people. Heloise needs to be protected by no one, not her parents or the traveling people. This is her duty, and she understands what fear is. But fear will not conquer her.

The insane thing is that Cole is doing this inside of 250 pages.

“Getting old's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But it's taught me that...that life is like being a mouse caught in a river current. So much of living is simply trying to keep from going under long enough to ride the water to its end.”

The story starts right as we left off from the first book. Heloise is in the thick of things. The first novel of the series, The Armoured Saint, is about Heloise shedding her childhood. While the second, Queen of Crows, is about her accepting the mantle of leadership and what that means. Interestingly, Cole gives us a new character group called the Traveling People. They are the antithesis of the villagers, both in religion and personality. This opens up the story to ingrained prejudices on both sides and how that plays out when put into hairy situations where one must rely on the other for survival. One thing they do have in common is an enemy in The Order. Even the names that Cole chose are clever. The order: a group is adhering to an orderly and systematic belief structure. The Traveling People: wild and free unbound by rigidity. The Villagers: a group right in the middle, ordinary people. These names reinforce the worldbuilding that Cole does and helps create those identities in the three groups.
I say that this is almost as good as the first one. This was a close thing 4.5 stars instead of 5. Some of the turns in the plot felt a little shaky to me. Especially those with the traveling people and I won't go into specifics, because why ruin it.

The Queen of Crows is an incredible book. Dark and grim, but with the occasional glimmer of hope amongst the pain. This story is Grimdark done right. I can not wait to read the next one; if it is anything like the previous two, then I am in for a wild ride. The final book in this series comes out on November 12th. Get to reading, so you are ready for it.

John Bierce's The Wrack is an exciting and unique take on a fantasy novel. You don't read many fantasy novels that take on the plague as a plot point. Science Fiction, sure. Urban fantasy, occasionally. But not a pure fantasy novel. That is why this novel was such a treat to read for me. When I started reading it for the tour, I almost had to put it down. I have avoided apocalyptic/disease type novels, if you will forgive me, like the plague. They are usually too much with the state of the world. We live in a time with an actual epidemic, and sometimes I don't need the fantasy I read to reflect on real life.

I am glad I kept reading, though, because The Wrack is a fantastic fantasy book that might be one of my favorites thus far this year.

The plot is the spread of a mysterious illness, called The Wrack, a plague that lays waste to the people and kingdoms. It spares few, and leaves screams and wailing in its wake. It is a terrifying concept, to look in the face of the plague, and flail and grasp for answers while it decimates poets and paupers alike. That feeling of abject desperation was almost anxiety-inducing.

It is brilliant writing on the part of John Bierce.

Stylistically The Wrack reminds me of World War Z, written by Max Brooks. World War Z was a collection of vignettes of different societies and cultures, and that dealt with zombies. The Wrack has a similar feel, with Bierce touching on many different areas of the kingdom, rich and poor alike, and showing how they react. Maybe it is because of the short length of the story, or the shortness of individual chapters, but I did not connect much with the characters. It all became awash in the multitudes of suffering people. Even in that, the actual characters are a supporting cast. The real star of the story is the plague, The Wrack.

The world-building was also one of the main stars of the story. As you can tell, this isn't character building or character-heavy. If The Wrack is the star of the story, I think the main supporting character is the cities and kingdoms that Bierce describes. He created an extraordinarily rich landscape full of very different cultures. All of which play a pivotal role in how groups or individuals react to something like a plague. The magic system is also unique. Seers, magic users, use different polished stones, set in their eye sockets to see and read another plane of energy. When seers look at people about to suffer The Wrack, they get a buildup of wavy lines in their liver. It seems very esoteric to describe, but Bierce did this well. It was a unique magic system, one I would love to read much more about it.

I want to talk a bit about the timing of a book like this. I know with everything going on, it has got to be hard working on a story for years and releasing it only to have the world as a whole take a terrifying dive. I almost had to put it down initially because the feelings I felt, terror, despair, and the overwhelming urge to hide are what these characters are feeling in similar circumstances. It was a hard thing to read. So this book might not be one for all readers, right now. If you can't take reading something dark with a plague angle to it right now, that is very understandable. But put this book on your TBR for better times, because this is a great story that is well done, even if it had some tiny issues. It is engaging, thought-provoking, and imaginative. I hope that in better times, this book gets all the love it should.

I am looking forward to checking out more of Bierce's work.

I was very excited to read Year One by Nora Roberts. First off, I have read close to thirty of her books. For a while there I was plowing through them. She writes great characters and exciting plots. Especially her later work. I also have read pretty much all the post-apocalyptic books I can get my hands on. Except for “The Road” which I won't touch with a ten-foot stick. 

My first observation is a positive one. The entire novel rests on an interesting, if not a slightly trite premise. World plague that decimates human the population. The thrilling thing is that the epidemic is based on lore mythology and magic. The disease is itself named “Doom,” and is made of these dark energies escaping and infecting the world. I think. Nora Roberts was a little fuzzy on it. In response to these increasing darkness and sickness infecting, a reaction in people with any spiritual and/or magical is that the latent power these people had increased exponentially. Another point I'm fuzzy on. Otherwords, some people get big woo-woo, others not so much. No idea what it is based on or why. Some people get nothing at all and remain human. Also no clue. It just is. Plot points like these that lay the foundation in novels, in my opinion, need to be rock solid. Otherwise, niggling questions remain and throw the reader's mind out of the story. 

The second observation is also a positive one. Nora Roberts knows how to write good dialog. It may be a little schmaltzy, but it flows like people talk. The dialog was well written. I may not have liked what the characters were saying, but she is damn good at writing it.  

Character-wise, it is just damn confusing. She has some well-written ones in there that are fleshed out, and some that are flat as a board (I am looking at you Eric and Allegra) and you scratch your head wondering what the hell. Why are the ones that are vapid come from out of nowhere and give so much page time? Also, the pacing and plot arcs are jarring as hell. I have never read a novel that jarred me like a car accident from one vignette to another. 

Lastly the third act of the story. I am going to speak in broad terms so as not to do any spoilers, but I spent 75 pages scratching my head. It was all so bland and wrapped up in a neat little bow. I didn't give a damn about the characters at the end. The ones that I really liked and thought were interesting got unceremoniously excised from the last act of the novel which was a weird pacing and story arc thing to do. Maybe I was just slightly miffed at that. Where are my Arlys, Fred and Jonah? She should have at least nodded her head at them and told us a little of what was going on. 

I want to be very clear here. This isn't a crap book. Nora Roberts is a master storyteller, but this isn't her best work. That's ok not everything is going to be a shining star. It is a serviceable book with highs and lows and is very readable. I will read the next book in the series to see what happens. If I had to give it a rating, I'd rate it 3 out of 5. 

There are mixed feelings about the “Harry Potter” series in general. This once-loved world of flying owls, castles, and a destined boy could feel semi-tainted to some due to the creator's personal beliefs. I will not discuss that, as that could be an entire essay on whether readers should separate art from the artist. This recent controversy, paired with the direction of my enjoyment of fantasy and what I seek out for myself, has driven me away from the original Harry Potter story. I love grimdark and darkly complicated stories with gray characters and fraught circumstances. And sadly, at this space in my life. The original “Harry Potter” story no longer does “it for me.”

It is too sweet.

But I posit to you, “dear reader,” as the illustrious Eleni would say, what if it wasn't saccharine but filled with real and truly flawed human beings dropped into an impossible scenario?

What if the bad guys won? What if war were actually war, the winning side hindered by morals that had no place in war and a side that had no scruples against using the most heinous spells and magic? What would that look like?

“I have warned you. If something happens to you, I will personally raze the entire Order. That isn't a threat. That is a promise. Consider your survival as much a necessity to the survival of the Resistance as Potter's. If you die, I will kill every last one of them.”

It is an interesting thought experiment, and up until now, no fan fiction author has hit on the right tone and had the necessary skill to immerse you in a new version of Harry's world convincingly until now.

First, something I don't usually do is give you trigger warnings. This new story has violence, sexual assault, and torture. And certainly not if you are a minor or young person; save this story for when you are a little older and jaded. I believe that all of these elements served a purpose in service to the narrative. There is no fridging on my watch. But it is still hard to read.

Firstly, if you are unfamiliar with shipping, let me elucidate. Shipping is when you, the reader, want a story that veers away from the original, takes two other characters, and puts them in a love match.
Popular ones in the Harry Potter fandom can be anything from Harry and Hermione to Harry and Ron to Regulus Black at Grimgotts and a room full of frisky goblins. Have at it. That is one of the most excellent parts of fanfiction. It is done in love to the original story, and frankly, it is so outlandish that it is hilarious to read. The story Manacled is an 876-page masterpiece of the genre written by SenLinYu that has become the defining Dramione ship piece and currently is sitting at 34k views on Goodreads with a 4.67 rating. It is not just successful as a fanfiction piece; it is successful as a novel in general.

“If he's a monster, then I'm his creator. What did you think was the source of all his rage?”

The plot revolves around Hermione and Draco Malfoy a couple of years after the start of the second wizarding war. Some creative license has been taken here. Instead of the story being rolled up in a “happily ever after,” People are dying in the most horrific ways, and the resistance barely survives.

We start the story with Hermione in the dark, in pure sensory deprivation, where she has resided for 18 months. She has held on to her sanity by sheer will alone. We don't know when in the war this is; at this point, we know the harrowing experience Hermione has been through. Hermione is unceremoniously dragged from her cell by rough hands and put forth before the one and only Dolores Umbridge. Dolores has become the Dark Lord's prison warden. And Hermione was one of his most protected prisoners. She is the last living member of the Order of the Phoenix, but oddly enough, she has memories buried down in her mind that are protected and sealed away from even the most practiced and skilled legilimentalist. The memories are the only thing keeping her alive.

A doctor examines Hermione and figures out that the only way that the memories might be recovered in any safe, usable manner is a magical pregnancy. Due to the sheer amount of death that this generation of living witches and wizards has had, Voldemort has started a birthing program, a la Handmaid's Tale, that shuffles off living witches, manacles them, and gives them to trusted death eaters to impregnate. Along with the birthing program, Voldemort has decreed that people will be married and pairs off individuals in the hopes that more babies can be born.

“Be careful. Don't die.
Only because you asked.”

While this chunk of the story borrows heavily from ideas found in The Handmaid's Tale, it doesn't feel hackneyed. The author makes these ideas of power and manipulation and the subjugation of women work within this narrative framework. For intents and purposes, the witches are handmaids; instead, they replace God with subservience to the Dark Lord. To control the magic the witches can wield and objects they can touch, the witches are manacled with a bracelet that stops the magic from flowing out of their bodies. No eye contact, talking, escape, or free will.

Because of the delicate nature of Hermione's case and the pure paranoia of Voldemort, the father of the future babies that Hermione will have must be wholly and utterly loyal to Voldemort and be a strong legilimens. That man has become the High Reeve, Voldemort's enforcer and truly terrifying individual. And he is none other than Draco Malfoy—Harry Potter's bratty nemesis who has come to a very dark place in this story. At this point, dear reader, you might think, “Oh, ok, this is the part with the porn soundtrack. They look deeply into each other's eyes and fall madly in love.”

You could not be further from the truth.

Hermione is psychologically flayed; she is broken down piece by piece. While the idea of a ship is lovely, people are people and are messy. Nothing that happens to Hermione is pleasant, nor to Draco. The world is ever-changing shades of gray. But all of it is necessary to support a complicated story that might have some of the most complex writing I have ever read. When the bough breaks and memories start to break through, we are shifted back to the height of the war when everyone was alive. Ron has become promiscuous; Harry seems to have aged a decade and, on particularly bad days, fights in underground clubs for release, and Hermione, the heart of the original story, is the glue that is holding everything together. Hermione becomes a chameleon with her brilliant brain, does whatever she has to do, and is whoever she has to be to save those she loves, even if they no longer love or appreciate her back. She sacrifices bits of herself slowly to give the resistance inches against the dark lord.

“But as she tried to unravel him, he grew increasingly tragic and terrifyingly human.”

The teenage bad boy sent to save the damsel trope is old and does a disservice to both of the characters involved. In real life, neither a “bad boy” nor a damsel are one-dimensional. People just are more challenging to figure out. And while this story could have stayed at that superficial level, it did not. Throughout the 800+ pages, we learn how incredibly complicated good and evil can be. That evil is just a matter of perspective.

There are a couple of things to overlook when reading this. This is fanfiction; a few chapters are a smidge repetitive, and given a good once-over by an editor would have sliced those away, along with the occasional grammar mistake. But it is few and far between.

“Pragmatism has stolen away any luster of heroism from her.”

To sum up, Manacled is a complex war story based around a well-known ship. It is one of the most complex stories of its kind I have ever read, and it now puts the original Harry Potter in stark relief for me. One who reads this cannot walk away unscathed in one way or another. Still, as an experience, this rich story has added much-needed nuance to Harry Potter's best friend, Braniac Hermione, and Harry Potter's nemesis Draco Malfoy. They are all so much more than the sum of their parts.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for providing me a copy of this in exchange for my open and honest review.

If you would like to read more of my book ramblings check out my blog at https://beforewegoblog.com/

“I am Fetching, leader of the half-orc hoof known as the True Bastards. I need to know who you cocksuckers are and what you are doing in the fucking lots.”

Once again, we visit the badlands of Ul-wundulas in all its dirty, and blood smeared glory. Instead of the Intrepid Jackal as the main narrator, we follow Fetch through her turmoil of keeping the hoof from dying off. After the events of the first novel (you can find my review here), we have the Bastards' home destroyed and their leader killed. Fetching is the new leader of the dwindling band of Bastards. She must confront starvation, hoof politics, and her failing health. All while working to defend the hoof from “Devil Dogs (hyena-like creatures),” and scheming Frails.

Unlike, Jackel, I found Fetch to be a much more sympathetic character and narrator. She often demonstrates a levelheadedness that Jackal did not have, and I found it necessary and well-written for the role she was managing as chief. She is an outcast female character, set within a very male, patriarchal world. This means that she has to have a backbone of steel. But Fetch is a well-rounded character; the steel of her spine is tempered with vulnerability. Also, Fetch is separated from her two best friends who, in the previous novel, offered her a bit of comfort and stability. However, her fierce protectiveness is effectively passed on to the hoof. She will do anything to keep the hoof alive. This includes keeping the spreading sludge filth in her body a secret. This bit of characterization is excellent and believable writing on the Part of Johnathon French.

Worldbuilding in this book is fantastic and an extension of the world that was created in The Gray Bastards. In the story, we learn a bit more about what the world is like outside of Ul-wundulas. This adds even more depth to the world, and I can't wait to see where French goes with it.

One of the difficulties I had with this book is the pacing. It is not as fast-paced as the first novel. There is quite a bit of action to be sure and some kick-ass fight scenes, but it did not flow as quickly as the first book. This might be due to the change of narrator. It isn't necessarily a detractor, just very different.

I can't tell you what happens at the end of this book, because that would ruin the fun. But be sure that the next book in the series is set up to be crazy.

This book is a killer. Fetch is a well-written anti-hero. You cheer her on, you sympathize with her, and you want to know what happens next. It is a page-turner with fabulous action. I highly recommend this kick-ass book and can't wait to read what else happens on the hog.

A Little Free Library by Naomi Kritzer is a beautiful short story that reminds readers that magic can be found in anything. As a reader, I know the magic and power of the written word. Books have power, whether it is to escape, learn, or become enthralled.

And one of the best things a reader can do is share their love for specific books with new readers freely—no strings attached, which is why Little Free Libraries are such a cool concept. You get a kit, a box, a refrigerator... anything that can keep the books out of the rain, and you fill it with your past reads and share it with your community, take a book, leave a book. You have no idea what you will get.

In this story, the narrator and owner of the Little Free Library lovingly builds a box for her front yard and fills it full of her favorites. A little Belgariad, some Lord of the Rings, top it off with some Terry Pratchett.

What does she get back? A little magic, and mystery of course.

This story made me smile so much. We readers are always looking for the bits of magic in the real world because the real world can be so dull. This story shows that it can pop up in the most wondrous of places.

Remote Control by Hugo Award-winning author Nnedi Okorafor is a timeless story. This story's narrative is at home in a world of dust and mosquitoes of rural communities of Ghana or at home in a big city with cars and mobile phones. It is told in parts like a fable complete with a companion fox. Other times, the stories' fable-Esque tones are intruded upon by very current problems like being snatched off the road or getting hit by a truck. In both types of storytelling, Sankofa is the same. A girl out of time and adopted daughter of death. She has too much power and not enough experience using it. Thankfully Okorafor never brings the narrative down by finding comedy in Sankofa's mistakes. There is no pratfall type of jokes here. Instead, the story has a level of sophistication, once Fatima, now Sankofa's journey is reclaiming a gift given to her by the stars and using the power given to her by someone or something wisely. But most of all, the seed is hers, and it is wise to stay out of her way.

The story starts two-fold. In chapter one, we are introduced to a woman named Sankofa; a pure red fox follows her. She is dusty; her leather sandals slap the road. You get the impression that Sankofa has walked many streets, kicked up a lot of dust. The animals in the trees take no notice of her as she strolls. She is fourteen years old, but she is far wiser than her years.

A young man is leaning against a tree smoking a cigarette at the site of Sankofa. “Sankofa is coming! Sankofa is coming!” There are terror and urgency in his speech. People peak out of windows and out of doorways. People yell, “Beware!” The only question I have at this point is, “who is Sankofa? and “How is a fourteen-year-old engendering so much fear for these people?” Because you are terrified of this little girl walking down the street, but you don't know why. Such is the beauty and strength in Nnedi Okorofor's writing. In two pages, she effortlessly had me feeling terror and dread at who this little girl is. Yet, in none of the text, is there anything that portrays that idea. She is just a girl, isn't she?

The people of the town bustle about her; Sankofa looks around and finds the wealthiest looking home, walks up, and knocks on the door.
“She lifted her chin, raised a small fist and knocked on the gate's door. “Excuse me, I would like to come in,” she called in Twi. She wasn't sure how far she'd come. Better to stick to the language most understood. Then she thought better of it and switched to English. “Gateman, I have come to call on the family that lives here.” When there was no response, she turned the knob. As expected, it was unlocked ...Then he turned and spat to the side, making no move to escort her to the house. “Thank you, sir,” Sankofa said, walking”

A stunned family greets Sankofa. “I would also like a change of clothes,” Sankofa said. “I have been wearing these garments for a week.” The woman smiled gratefully and nodded. Sankofa guessed the woman was about ten years her senior, maybe even fifteen. “Something like what you are wearing now?” the woman asked. Sankofa grinned at this. “Yes, if possible,” she said. “I like to wear our people's style.” The woman seemed to relax. “I know. We all know.” “My name is known here?” Sankofa asked, the answer being obvious.”

This girl is known and feared. Enough so that she can walk into a stranger's house and eat food and be dressed in prepared clothing if she deigned to stop by. At this point in the story, you are grabbed and reigned in. You want to know more about Sankofa. Who is she? Why does she have this immense power? And what is she searching for? And, through Okorafor's beautiful gift in storytelling, we are given answers, some we might not have been prepared for. But answers none the less.

Then the story reverts back to the very beginning, to Fatima. To how all this happened and how Fatima became Sankofa. We journey with this young girl of seven and watch her age in both years and wisdom until the two narratives collide and Sankofa is 14.

Okorafor's is a master of the shorter novella style story. She creates a tight and crisp dialog and ideas that are full of descriptions so accurate you can smell the dust in the air. There are no wasted words or ideas; everything she writes is purposeful. And, just like her Binti stories, the dialect and prose flow like water or fall like rain. You are these characters. In the case of Sankofa, you are immersed in her and why she feels the fear of the unknown. You are in her when she feels gratitude to the townsfolk, and most importantly, you are in her as she feels rage at anyone who stands in her way.

It is a beautifully written burst of a story. It is full of so much joy, love, and power, and by the end of it, there is some resolution, although it might not be what you would think.

Nnedi Okorafor is the queen of Afrofuturistic fiction. Binti is a work of art and one of my favorite series I have read in the last few years. Also, her short story Hello Moto, and the comic Shuri. You cannot go wrong by picking up all her work and binging it, Remote Contol included.

Check out Remote Contol so that you can love it as much as I did.

I have read my fair share of urban fantasy, romantic, tragic, or otherwise. As a reader and reviewer, it has become a challenge for me to seek out series in that elusive “other” category, ones that straddle a line of horror and urban fantasy such as Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere and American Gods or A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness. These books are different. They excel in bringing something fresh to the reader. The Others series by Anne Bishop has brought life to the tired genre of the supernatural urban fantasy genre with her brilliant take on the relationships between humans and the Terre Indigene in Crowbones.

“Don't matter if you caw, Don't matter if you shout. Crowbones will gitcha If you don't watch out! —Crowgard rhyme”

Every culture, human or other, has a boogeyman. A creature that will come to getcha if you aren't a good kid. Bishop explores that idea in Crowbones. Vicki Devine, whom we met in book 6 of The Others series, Lake Silence, is back again as the central figure of Crowbones. Vicki, the owner of the Jumble, a resort that does some light tourism around folks wanting to interact with The Others, is hosting a gathering to celebrate Trickster Night, The Others form of Halloween. There are some funny antics and miscommunication between the humans and the terre indigene. What kind of costume is scary but not too frightening to become other.

We first meet Vickie in a previous novel, Lake Silence. In that novel, she is a woman recovering from a traumatic relationship and divorce and attempting to start a new life in a new town. I find her a compelling character, that while she is broken and worn down from hardship, Vickie manages to have inner strength. Enough that the Others understand that she is special and a cut above other humans.

“He wasn't sure what disturbed him more—that the Others were able to excavate that much dirt from either side of the road and pile it into a hill that quickly . . . or the smiley face made out of boulders that was pressed into this side of the mound.”

Each of the stories in this series of books revolves around a mystery. This one isn't an exception. Something rotten affects the terre indigene, and individuals who act as judges have come to bring sentences on humans and terre indigene alike. Office Wayne Grimshaw, Julian Farrow, and Ilya Sanguinati have to work together before judgment is cast on all of them.

The plotting and pacing are tight; it keeps you going. You know from the first few pages that this will be a mystery story. But it lacks the tropey feel of a “who done it” type story. Vickie is someone trying to keep the crows safe, and the three individuals, Wayne, Julian, and Ilya, are trying to do the same. There are certainly some bloody and violent scenes. Bishop has never shied away from the darker side of things, which works for me as a lover of horror and grimdark. Crows are picking at eyeballs, basically doing what crows do.

Crowbones is another exciting addition to the world of The Others that continues to be interesting. We learn that even the strongest and wildest predators of the terre indigene have boogeymen that go bump in the night. Check it out.

The End We Start From by Megan Hunter is a descriptive but fragmented story about a dystopian Great Britain overrun by global warming floods. If you are looking for an apocalyptic type story dense with action, this is not it. Instead, The End We Start From is an exploration of motherhood that keeps the reader at arm's length.

The story is about a group of characters, all given a letter instead of a name. The husband R and wife give birth to a baby named Z. As the floodwaters begin to rise, the scramble for shelter and flee to Scotland. Z eventually becomes ill and ends up in a hospital. R leaves due to... reasons, and the story is told during Z's first year. It is quite the contrast of early motherhood woes and childhood milestones juxtaposed against the terror of unstoppable world events.

“We are told not to panic, the most panic-inducing instruction known to man.”

Both nature and the nurturing of a child stops for no one. Time and life must go on even in the direst of circumstances. However, the distance that the author puts between the reader and the writing didn't allow me to connect my own experiences of motherhood with that of the mother. I wanted to empathize with the characters, but aside from well-written language and dialog, the story fell ultimately flat.

Events are vaguely described, often to the point that I felt like I was watching a school film about devastation or war for educational purposes rather than living the character's life. I am not sure I understand the unusual choice of not giving the character's full names. If the author intended to create even more distance between the characters and the readers, it was effective. I remained a passive observer throughout the novel.

“When I was a child, my mother told me she would die for me, of course. I asked her all the time. Tested her.”

However, on a more positive note, while the language and dialog are sparse, it is compelling and well thought out. The End We Start From has a poetic feel to it; instead of reading a short story about a flooded Britain, we read about a dystopia in verse. It is highly stylized language; some of it is brilliant, “The water rose and rose, and they could not recognize each other in the torrent, in the endless rain from above.”

In the end, this will be an extremely polarizing book. You will either love it or be baffled by it. I am sorry to say that I am in the latter camp. I could not get past the distance and lack of description. However, I recognize that this story will speak to some readers, and I recommend it for readers who want a more experimental story.

Calico Thunder Rides Again by T.A. Hernandez is an adventure book that I did not know I needed. It has Dragons, circuses, and gangsters. While I don't often read books suitable for the under 18 audience, Calico Thunder Rides Again is well written enough to excite and entice readers of all ages. As a participant in the BBYNA tour, I was given an opportunity to check out this story; it appeals to all the things I like. So, I dived in, and I was so glad I did.

As I mentioned, Calico Thunder is a book that is written for a younger audience. But while the writing style has more youthful themes to it, I come from an intense love of grimdark; it still was descriptive and engaging. The description of the circus with its kaleidoscope of colors and cacophony of sounds seemed fantastic. I could practically smell the popcorn.

I was engaged with the characters right from the get-go. It has frenetic pacing at times, which added to the situation that Jake found himself in. I routed for Jake as an underdog the whole time. Even well-timed bits of laughter and jokes helped lighten the mood just enough so that you don't take it all too seriously.

Calico Thunder Rides Again is a fun story, and it is rather obvious why it was a final in the competition. I am glad that I had a chance to read something out of my standard repertoire, and the story did well for me.

Dead Man in a Ditch, Luke Arnold's second book in the Fetch Phillips Archive, is a devastating and unforgiving story about redemption and regret that will keep you wanting more. It is a story that demonstrates why a single mistake can haunt you for a lifetime.

“I tried to bite my tongue but after years of exercise it had learned to fight back.”

Fetch Phillps, the main protagonist of the story, is a complete contradiction. He is a character that makes you be both repelled by his prickly personality and penchant for self-destruction, and desire to lean in and learn more. In the previous book, The Last Smile in Sunder City, we know a bit of why Fetch, and by extension, the world is the way it is. Eight years ago, Fetch made a mistake, probably the biggest mistake in the history of humans. He betrayed magical creatures and helped humans damn up the magical current that flowed through the world. In one minute, the world went from a vibrant technicolor world full of warlocks, dragons, fairies, and demons to a drab gray where the previously magical creatures now exist perpetually paused. They are neither human nor what they used to be.

Fetch now lives with the acute regret of that moment.

His regret and self-loathing are a constant reminder that he cannot change the past; even with all the shame in the world, some things may be beyond redemption. As a reader, I am sympathetic to his plight, but some mistakes are too big ever to forget. To pass the time, Fetch works as a detective for the “magical” community. And although he will not work with humans, he does enough to survive. The story is structured as a “Sam Spade” type detective story with nods to Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler. You can tell that Arnold has significantly been influenced heavily by the genre. But unlike Sam Spade, I find Fetch to be a very genuine character. His pain and possible redemption feel realistic and authentic. His pain is real, and he faces the repercussions of it every day. Whether or not Fetch successfully saves his soul is not yet seen, but I feel like the possibility that Fetch might find redemption for himself, however that plays out, brings me back to Arnold's books. I want Fetch to figure things out and forgive himself however that may look. There might not be any significant saving of the magical races in this series, and Fetch's cycle of redemption might be a lot quieter and less overt. It might be that he will finally decide that he has done all he could, and that will have to be enough, but I think that is a long way off.

“You still think, after everything that happened, that what you do doesn't matter? That because you take your orders from someone else, that you're no longer accountable for your actions? Nothing is just a job, Fetch. Especially now. Not at a time like this.”

The storyline for Dead Man in a Ditch is bleak. A man has been inexplicably murdered, and the only explanation is that magic killed him. But magic is gone, isn't it? There are moments, particularly one near the end of the story, that were heartbreaking. The raw emotion that Fetch feels is so painful that it was difficult to read. He reaches the bottom. While the storyline starts off following the typical episodic nature of detective stories, pretty quickly, we begin to discern the broader power struggles beyond this case. There are grander ideas involved that will rip Sunder's very fabric and bring its inhabitants to their knees.

The critical thing to remember about Arnold's writing is that there is a small, almost intangible glimmer of hope. It flashes in the moments that Fetch has with characters. Whether it is a laugh, quiet companionship, a good meal, or a healthy horse, these moments reveal that not all is lost for Fetch. He is not irredeemable. We have to hold on to these moments for Fetch because he forgets. He wallows in the muck and mire of his past choices.

“We all burn ourselves, Fetch. It's the best way to learn from our mistakes. It's only when some part of you freezes that you cut the fucker off.”

My quibble with this book specifically relied solely on pacing. There was a lot of action and a lot of introspection, but it felt uneven at times. We would be catapulted in exciting moments, especially one very visceral one about unicorns, only to be halted in the next scenes with stillness and lack of action. But it was a tiny thing, and on the whole, Arnold kept you moving and interested one scene to the next.

Dead Man in a Ditch is a good book and an even better series. It isn't a typical urban fantasy story where magical creatures are supernatural power beyond human understanding. They are broken withered things; humans broke them eight years ago. Fetch broke them. Instead of approaching the story like many urban fantasy writers do where humans are weak in the face of magical power, here, humans are almost villainous. Dead Man in a Ditch expands on the ideas of redemption and power that we got tastes of in the first book, The Last Smile in Sunder City. But goes many leagues further and brings Fetch to his knees. Only when Fetch hits absolute rock bottom can he look up and see the proverbial light.

“You've touched the pistol. Nobody needs to show you how to hold it or the way to make it work. It is the most elegantly designed piece of evil I have ever seen. From the moment you pick it up, you want to use it, don't you think? It's almost impossible not to.”

I believe that if you loved The Last Smile in Sunder City, you would be very moved by Dead Man in a Ditch. It is a worthy second installment in this series, and I can't wait to read the next one.

Nophek Gloss is a story that pushes the boundlessness of the reader's imagination. It is innovative, harsh, extraordinary, and it is science fiction at its best.

I am not sure how to classify Nophek Gloss as part of the science fiction canon. Is it hard science fiction? Quite possibly. There are elements of logic to the science used in the story. There is also a balance of drama to the narrative; the story is very character-driven, making me lean towards Space Opera. Either way, with hard science fiction or a space opera, creatures, ideas, natural laws, and creatures all usually fall within human perception. i.e., “What goes up must come down.” This makes a lot of sense, considering that humans will read the story, and you want it relatable to commonly shared experiences. But, human perception is so limiting. If there are beings from other planets, they will not look like us or react like us. Our natural laws would probably not be the natural laws of other worlds and galaxies when given an infinite palate of choices on what characters could look like, how they would act, or how things like time, gravity, and space behave; why not be different. So when I say that Nophek Gloss is one of the most creative science fiction stories I have ever read, you get where I am going with this.

Nophek Gloss by Essa Hansen is something else.

Newcomer Essa Hansen's story is intriguing; here is an author who is steeped in a love of science fiction and fantasy. As a day job, Essa works as a sound designer for Skywalker Sound, where she worked on Dr. Strange and Avengers: Endgame, as well as Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets, Thor Ragnorak, Ant-Man, and Big Hero Six. She is also a falconer and horsewoman. It seems like she lives and breathes the coolest aspects of science fiction, and none of this is any surprise to me as I read Nophek Gloss. When I say that Nophek Gloss is something else, I genuinely mean it. The basis of the story is a hero's quest type narrative. But when we readers step past the hero's quest narrative and start paying attention to the detailing and imagination that Hansen has added into the fabric of this story, that is where Nophek Gloss soars and stands above its contemporaries. It is visually rich and compelling storytelling.

“For a long moment, Laythan's piercing gaze assessed Caiden, judging what to say. “I know all this newness is frustrating, but we need more intelligence at a Cartographer Den before we jump to conclusions. That's where we're headed. You'll understand soon.”

The story's basis is centered around a protagonist named Caiden, who is born into indentured life. His planet and homelife are destroyed early in the novel, and to survive, he must step away from who he thought he was and enter worlds and times beyond the scope of imagination. Everything he understands and knows to be the truth is a lie. A fabrication put upon him by his previous captors. After he survives an encounter with a Nophek, an otherworldy apex predator creature, “his only hope for survival is a crew of misfit aliens and a mysterious ship that seems to have a soul and a universe of its own. Together they will show him that the universe is much bigger, much more advanced, and much more mysterious than Caiden had ever imagined.” This misfit crew becomes a found family for Caiden, helps him grow, often painfully, as he assumes a role that he is destined for in the universe.

“Pan rarely eats,” Taitn said. “Saisn have a very efficient metabolism. She drinks fluids and feeds on vibration, mostly. The dark and quiet is nourishment and medicine for her.”

If I left the story at found family and quest, it would seem like Hansen didn't tread new material here. But Nophek Gloss is so much more. A universe, by definition, is infinite. But if a writer stops to think about what “infinite” actually means, anything is possible. The very way we perceive experience is limiting; if we could step outside how humans view the universe and expand our understanding, what would that look like? Would it be a universe balanced on the head of a pin? Or creatures that exist as the embodiment of a memory? How about creatures that create energy sources inside their minds, to be harvested to power ships? What about vessels that create their own universes like a bubble that some species can travel through while others can't. A story like this can be a wide-open field only limited by its creator's experience and imagination. I think Nophek Gloss is the perfect playing field for Essa Hanson's ideas.

Outside ideas, the structure of Nophek Gloss is easy to read. Hanson keeps the descriptions rich but concise. Hanson does not get lost in the details; she has a particular idea she wants to share with the reader. It isn't overly flowery prose or so much detail that the reader's mind is squashed. Instead, Hanson helps you build something concrete in your mind's eye and gives you a chance to expound on it. This is incredibly important with a genre like science fiction, where the infinite imagination of the reader is an essential tool for building the story.

“In front of a glowing wall, a stunning figure caught Caiden's eye. She was humanoid but ethereal and slender, with prosthetic scaffolding around tapered legs. Skin paper-thin and pearly. Her thick hair was so long it pooled onto the floor and clothed her body in dressy billows and braids.”

Another thing I tip my hat to Hansen on is her exclusivity. In a universe with infinite possibilities, there will be people/creatures that are different than you. Whether that is defined by gender, and the story touches on the question of “what is gender?” Or how people want to represent themselves or communicate. Nophek Gloss also includes neuro-diverse characters in leading roles that offer meaningful relationships to Caiden. There are no token characters in this story, and the importance of respecting diversity is evident by the conclusion of the first chapter.

Nophek Gloss also talks a lot about grief and how that is expressed. It is painful to read about Caiden and how he deals with the steps of grief. And how and if he can move on with his life. Caiden deals with grief for most of the book, and how that is defined and exercised is fascinating.

I know this seems like a dark and dense story, grief, death, and slavery, and it is. However, there is a great balance to it. Hansen interjects humor and lightness into some scenes to give the readers a break. This mostly comes in the form of Caiden interacting with his rescuing crew members. And while it doesn't always hit the mark humor wise, it does enough to make sure that the reader isn't dragged down into pain and torment. There are also great fight scenes that step outside the normal and exercise the imagination. What does fighting an alien creature look like?

Setting and worldbuilding are huge. When you have an unlimited palette of colors, sounds, tastes, and textures, your worlds can be anything. The ones in Nophek Gloss are brilliant colorful creations where technology and the natural world collide. Some so wild that I had to go back and reread things to understand what they could look like.

Plot-wise, Nophek Gloss is a brilliant book. Probably one of the best science fiction stories I have read this year. However, some things did get muddled, and I didn't quite grasp Caiden's motivations for his choices. Most of these come in the middle chapters where we don't quite grasp who Caiden is, and his maturity level is iffy. I would think this was probably on purpose; humans go through weird growing stages where we are not thinking so clearly, just as a matter of maturing.

Nophek Gloss is a science fiction book for science fiction geeks. It is almost a love letter to those out there who find their passions in the wild and uninhibited imagination that science fiction offers. It won't be for everyone, as some readers might not enjoy the story's expansive nature. It is also incredibly dark. If there is a genre for grimdark science fiction, this is it. It deals with pain, joy, and grief head-on and does not mince words or details. If you enjoy your reading to be lighter fare, this probably is not the story. But for me, I loved it. Wholly and completely. Nophek Gloss is a thundering debut; it grabs the reader and tows you into unchartered territory.

Thank you to Tor.com for providing me with a copy of Prosper's Demon via Netgalley in exchange for my open and honest review.

Prosper's demon, written by author K.J. Parker is a ride through sarcasm, nihilism, and philosophical morality. Even though the ending made the reading of the rest of the story worth it, this book is not for everyone. It employs time jumps, a stream of conscious writing style, and an unreliable narrator.

All is not what it seems with this story.

The story starts with a person named Prosper of Schanz. He is a scholar, artist, visionary, and thinker - ultimate creator. He is also currently populated by a demon. Demons exist; they live inside of people; they do damage, and have machinations. Because they cannot die and have been alive for possibly billions of years, they play the long game. Their ideas and schemes can be thwarted, but much like a river, they find other avenues to flow down. They find different ways of achieving their goals. Removing the demon can cause damage that can cause irreparable harm to the human. It is very Sisyphean.

Enter our unreliable narrator. He is an anonymous exorcist who can see these demons and pluck them from the souls and bodies of those they inhabit. He is an entirely unlikeable, and unempathetic. He has this gift that he has cultivated over his comparably short lifetime that allows him to interact with a demon. But for him, it is always the end's justify the means. If the human is damaged or die from having a demon removed, that is on the demon, not the exorcist. It is a morally bankrupt position to take, but that lack of care representative of the type of character the exorcist is.

Prosper's demon and the anonymous exorcist have a battle of wits through the course of the novel. Or at least that is what I think the author intended to portray. It is more like a battle of wits on the part of Prosper, and someone who is utterly uninterested on the part of the exorcist. The conversations between the two of them are confusing and banal.

This story is a short one clocking in at 100 pages. At 50%, I could not figure out who was talking, anything much about the characters or their intentions, and anything about the environment. The dialog is written in a stream of conscious style that made it difficult to figure out who is speaking. In the last 50% of this book, it got easier to figure out what was going on, but at this point, I didn't care about any of the characters and frankly just wanted to be done.

I wanted to like this book, and I gave it a higher star rating at three stars because I know that for some readers, this kind of storytelling is fantastic, and Prosper's Demon was done very well if you enjoy these types of narratives. But it wasn't for me.

If you would like to read more of my reviews or various other bookish things, please come by my blog at https://beforewegoblog.com/

Harrow Lake by Kat Ellis is not at all what you think. Marketed as a YA Horror novel, you would think that maybe this might be a campy horror story. Perhaps with a 1980s vibe.

You would be entirely wrong.

Instead, Harrow lake is a story of intense psychological horror. I think in a lot of ways, psychological horror is much scarier than slasher horror. The reader can eternalize much of the plot; we readers all have psychological quirks. Harrow Lake is a good book for that. The lead character, Lola, has broken parts of her psyche. She has suffered her mother abandoning her, a father who smothers her, and deep mental wounds that sound much like PTSD. This leads to a realistic characterization of mental illness and a developing and strong protagonist.

Lola Nox is the daughter of the famous Horror movie directer Nolan Nox. Nolan made his fame with the movie Nightjar, and he also met Lola's mother on the set of Nightjar because it was filmed in her hometown, and she ended up being her star. Nightjar has an almost cult-like following to it. After an accident with Lola's father, Lola ends up staying with her estranged grandmother in Harrow Lake while Nolan recuperates. Harrow Lake is dark, and something is off with it. Something is not right. The reader can not tell if the town is off or Lola's perceptions of things are off. As Lola navigates the village of Harrow Lake and her traumatic memories, things escalate in the story to a fevered pitch.
What is real? What is imagined? The reader won't know till the very end, and I can't tell you more because of SPOILERS!

Harrow Lake ended up being one of those books that I appreciate as a reader but has aspects of it that didn't sit well with me. In a lot of ways, Harrow Lake is perfectly crafted. The narrative moves page to page. The horror is almost palpable. The lead character is one that the reader can empathize with. However, I had a difficult time with the supporting characters in the story. I did not find them wholly believable. That was hard for me because the supporting characters are a huge part of the narrative. In the scheme of things, it is a small thing set against the excellent writing and Lola as a character, but it was a bit hard for me to get over it.

All in all, this is a solid and exciting story. It is terrifying and so much more than you thought it was going to be. The visuals that the author Kat Ellis creates are gripping, and the pacing is frenetic.

This story is a must for YA Horror fans.

Thank you to the publisher and Netgalley for providing me a E-ARC to review in exchange for my open and honest opinion.

Sometimes the end of something is just the beginning of a new chapter. Things don't have to end. Characters don't have to stop because, with some, there is so much more story to tell—case in point, American Demon, the first book in the extended Hallows universe.

I am so happy they are back.

Kim Harrison has brought back our favorite “itchy witch” as well as many of our other favorite characters. I am looking at you, Bis. Things are a bit different, and people are moving on with their lives; some are moving into new phases. But Rachel is Rachel, and where there are mischief and catastrophe, you know, she will be right there righting the wrongs and sticking up for her friends. In this story, someone has sent an entity called a Bacu after Rachel and her friends. It is a creature that strips your aura level by level, eventually driving you mad. Who sent it and why are they doing these things is the big mystery. We have a few new characters to enjoy and learn about. One is an elf. The other is a demon; both seem like a lot of fun and should prove more important as new books and stories are written.

The action is fun, the banter is standard for The Hollows, and Trent and Rachel are lovely as ever together. I Recommend to lovers of The Hallows, or if you want to get into a new world to read, get into The Hallows. You won't be disappointed.

A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik, lesson one: block off a large block of time when starting this series because you will not want to put it down. Damn, getting sleep and bathing, hell, even food is optional. This book is excellent will grasp you around the neck and hold you tight.

“READER, I RAN the fuck away.”

First off, let me set the scene. The first book of the trilogy, A Deadly Education, introduces us to our protagonist Galadriel and the school called Scholomance. Galadriel's character reminds me of if I took Harry Potter and made the exact opposite of him in every way. If I constantly put him in dangerous situations, and Hogwarts was continually trying to feed him to fluffy the three-headed dog, it would be Galadriel. The only similarity between them is at both of their cores; they have good hearts. But in Galadriel's case, her heart is slightly darker and has terrifying magic and great snark armor.

Scholomance is the wizarding school that Galadriel goes to. The survival rate for Scholomance is around 50%. You do not fail out; you are blown to bits, eaten, have your skin flayed off in strips, or suffer irreparable psychological damage. To graduate, you must run the gauntlet through an obstacle course of creatures from hell all bent on devouring your mind, body, and soul. Surviving Scholomance is just as much about luck and social station as it is skill.

“I love having existential crises at bedtime, it's so restful.”

Imagine being a kid; maybe you are a bit shy or gawky. Perhaps you come from humble beginnings. Now imagine that your ability to survive Scholomance is almost certainly on your family's wealth or your power to be a suck-up. If you aren't good enough at it, you will probably get eaten by the demons that roam the sacred halls. In Galadriel's case, everyone hates her or is unnerved by her. They know something is off, dark queen vibes. What they don't know is that Galadriel has an immense amount of power. The kind that flattens cities and makes people slaves. Except that all she wants to be is left alone and not hurt anyone. How does she survive her junior year without hurting anyone and not being eaten alive by the evils that roam the halls?

It has been a long time since I read something as engaging as this story. I adored El, her snark, and her heart. She wants people to leave her alone, and short of yelling at them to “get off my lawn,” people won't leave her be. And things keep getting more complicated. There is a boy who is a confusion to her. People start gravitating towards her and maybe want to be friends. What is this friend nonsense?

Novik did an excellent job in crafting the characters and the school. You want to know them; there is enough teenageness to believe they are young adults grappling with hormones and who they are. But enough realism that they understand that the school and the demon-like creatures will eat them.

Pick up this book and get sucked in.