Beth Tabler

Anna and the Apocalypse by Katharine Turner and Barry Waldo is an entertaining if an unlikely combination of a teen story, Christmas, and zombies. Based on the musical horror/comedy movie, the book involves the protagonist Anna, her best friend, and her school friends as they battle the undead on Christmas eve. There are evil teachers, undead pensioners, an undead 11 and under girls soccer team and a wooden candy cane turned weapon. It is a strange combination but entertaining.

“Forget your troubles, Let go your woe. Live for today ‘cause you might be dead come tomorrow!”

Zombie horror-comedy is a well-tread genre. Arguably started with the titular Sean of the Dead and followed up by numerous movies, including Zombieland and Warm Bodies. If you will pardon the pun, the zombie genre has been done so much it is dead. But, with everything, I don't think there has ever been a musical zombie Christmas story. So while zombies as a genre have pretty much saturated the market, reaching the realm of musicals is a whole new thing, which there lies the rub. Should a zombie musical be made? Is a zombie musical one step too far? That is up to the viewer; I am always down for campy fun. Sometimes things are so bad that they transcend bad and become great. They revel in their awful and find legions of fans who love to laugh at the ridiculous and themselves for loving it so much. I am not sure if Anna and the Apocalypse makes it to cult status, but it tries.

The plot is a simple one. Anna's day starts like any other. “It was Tuesday. A regular, boring Tuesday. Really, no different than any other Tuesday that Anna had experienced on her eighteen years on Earth.” We have all had days like this, the mundane and uneventful. Days that plod along from one moment to the next in a long daily march towards sleep. The fun thing that Anna and the Apocolypse does very well is call out how one boring ordinary day can go to the extreme and the extraordinary and change your life forever. How one day can become the “before” and the “after.” And, for Anna and her best friend John, that day was today.

“Uh, sorry, St. Peter, she whispered, fighting with the on/off button. But I was trying to save my friends' lives and instead, I accidentally switched on a huge vibrating dildo and dropped it on the floor and then I got eaten by zombies. May I come in?”

Anna laments at the sameness of it all. How the day is gray, and John has his daily jelly donut. She yearns for the different, the exciting, the something else. It is a sentiment shared with my teenagers, and even on into the doldrums of adulthood. We yearn for something novel and new to break up the monotony. Driving along, Anna's father screeches on the breaks, almost careening into a shambling blood-covered figure before it collapses to the ground. Anna's response to this is, “Well that is a bit different.”

“The white fleecy snowman costume was covered in sticky red and black patches and stank of something far worse than sweaty feet and cigarettes. Underneath the silk black hat, a man's face peered out of the costume, but something was very, very wrong. The whites of his eyes were red and his irises were gray, and at first, John thought he had meat smeared all around his face, but when Anna rolled him over and his jaw went slack, John realized his skin was missing.”

Having seen both the movie and read the book, I don't think the book is particularly fantastic. It doesn't have the campy charm that the musical does. It does have a fun story, as the movie does, but where the dialog of the film sung at the oncoming horde is amusing, it doesn't translate well in novel form. You miss the campy charm. You end up having an offbeat zombie somewhat funny book that takes place around the holidays. If you are a fan of the movie, go for it! But aside from that, this was a lukewarm read. Funny, and passable but nothing much going on beneath the surface.

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.

Zoey Punches the Future in the Dick by author Jason “David Wong” Pargin is the second installment in the Zoey Ashe series following 2016's Futuristic Violence and Fancy Suits. Just as it did in Futuristic Violence, the newest Zoey book is a hilarious blend of science fiction storytelling and the absurd. Once again, the story takes place in Tabula Ra$a, Utah. A city designed around the wealthy, the indulgent, and lawlessness. In the previous installment of this series, Zoey had inherited her father's multi-billion-dollar empire built on his mob-like tendencies and the whimsical desires of a man with too much money and not enough scruples. Zoey, who grew up very poor with a single mother, has to morally navigate the needs of existing in this ridiculous world with her moral compass. All while surviving what is thrown at her from exploding humans with superhero powers to mobs of online rage-filled people passing rumors around about her being a cannibal.  

“Will, calm as wind chimes, said, “Wu, if you hit Zoey two inches below her rib cage and one inch to the right of her spinal column, you'll punch a hole through her abdomen that she'll likely survive. Set the round to detonate about six inches later, inside Mr. Tilley's torso. It will blow him in half, implants or not.”

This particular entry into the series has Zoey being digitally harassed and attacked. The masses of online trolls of Tabula Ro$a accuse Zoey of being a cannibal and a power-hungry despot. They threaten her home and general well being. They attack her online, make up wild stories and accusations, and generally make her life a living hell. To complicate things, a rival security company is throwing proverbial gasoline on the fire. Did they send the steamer trunk with a dead body that jumped up and started chasing everyone around the mansion, shouting about Zoey being a cannibal? Or was it something more sinister? 

This story again demonstrates the wit and imagination that Wong has shown in all of his books. Both the Zoey series and John Dies at the End employ the absurd and the gonzo with sympathetic characters and social commentary. While Zoey is a funny book, the characters play off of each other well. There is a lot of funny banter between the Zoey and her team, but there is an undercurrent of sadness under it all. Zoey is isolated. She has no close friends, and the only regular social interaction she has is with her cat. That isolation is making her feel off-kilter and very alone. 

Another positive of David's writing is that he does not shy away from humanity's uglier problems. For instance, in between the timeline of Futuristic Violence and Fancy Suits and Zoey Punches the Future in the Dick, Zoey ends up having a mental breakdown and needs to enter a mental health facility. It is no wonder she has been through some incredibly traumatic events. Instead of using that kind of thing for comedic fodder, Zoey speaks pretty candidly about it. Likewise, Zoey has small mental breakdowns, nightmares, moments of freak out that normal people experience. It adds realism to Zoey's character, and it is wonderful seeing an author talking about things like mental health more realistically.

“The victims smelled smoke. They all wanted to get out but they didn't hear an alarm. The alarm, in that situation, wasn't there to announce there was a fire—they knew there was a fire. The alarm was there to give them permission to get up and leave. Nobody wanted to be first, the social pressure kept them glued to their seats. Well, mass violence works the same way. It just takes one person to be the fire alarm, to give everybody permission to go wild. But probably half of the rioters back at the inn couldn't pick you out of a lineup or even explain what they were angry about. It's a core of obsessed true believers surrounded by a cloud of fence-sitters looking for a purpose to cling to. Most of those would disperse if the core were to . . . go away.”

Zoey is, fundamentally, a realistic person. She was a coffee barista, has a terrible ex that broke her heart, and worried about keeping the heat on. At her core, Zoey is a morally good person, maybe not all the time, because who is good all the time. But at her heart, she is trying. She cares about people, even people she has never met and wants to make the world a better place. She is also continuously being thrown in bizarre circumstances that are usually beyond her control, and she fakes it till she makes it. Basically holding on to her goodness and humanity as best she can.

This quality of Zoeys, paired with David Wong's excellent writing and ferocious wit, makes him one of my favorite authors to read. He continuously puts out good work, and if you are a fan of the slightly bizarre with a science-fiction bent to it, his stories and specifically Zoey Punches the Future in the Dick is worth reading. I have a feeling you will love his books.

  

Andy Weir, the author of The Martian and Artemis, brings us another dose of science fiction fun with Project Hail Mary. And when I say fun, I mean fun. His stories aren't light and fluffy, his protagonists are flawed, but his characters have an optimistic quality that helps balance out some of the dark in life. I get a lot of enjoyment from reading his stories, and Project Hail Mary is no exception.

“When I'm stressed out, I revert to imperial units. It's hard to be an American, okay?”

I am relatively new to the church of Weir. Weir's church? I started a deep dive on his projects last month, obviously starting with The Martian. It is the most known of his stories and was made into a big-screen movie starring Matt Damon that won a slew of awards. What is so incredibly cool about Weir's personal story is how The Martian came about. The Martian started as a serialized novel. Chapters were appearing daily on Weir's website, where his 3000 followers vetted the science. It became so beloved that Weir took it and put it up on Amazon as a .99c story. It became a bestseller, which then was made into a movie, then awards, so on and so forth.

Before any of the hoopla around The Martian, Weir wrote a short story called The Egg. It got a following, so much that some have started following it as a philosophy of life or religion a la L. Ron Hubbard. Much to Weir's chagrin. It, too, was made into a short film and had 20 million hits on youtube. What I am saying here is that folks love his work. It resonates.

This brings us to Weir's newest novel, Project Hail Mary that is releasing in May of 2021. The premise is thus, “Ryland Grace is the sole survivor on a desperate, last-chance mission—and if he fails, humanity and the earth itself will perish... it's up to him to puzzle out an impossible scientific mystery—and conquer an extinction-level threat to our species.” Ryland is a brilliant and very ordinary person. There isn't a glorious charisma about him. But he is an immensely likable character who faces the arduous task of saving the human species. Not only does he have to puzzle out how to save humanity, but he also has to do it with no memory. Alone. It seems like a very similar premise to The Martian, but it isn't. The vastness of scale changes the dynamics of the story. Ryland has the fate of existence resting on his very confused shoulders.

Ryland is in many ways similar to Mark Watney. This is either because there has to be a little bit of open-mouthed awe and a general sense of optimism to be a scientist or astronaut. Both require an ability to believe that there is more out there and reach for it with both hands. Or, this type of character is one that Weir enjoys and understands. Some authors write snarky protagonists that quip their way through scenes. Weir writes intelligent, optimistic, and ridiculously resourceful scientists. I'd happily read either type. That overt sense of optimism permeates Weir's writing, and sometimes a bit of happiness goes a long way.

“Maybe it's just the childish optimist in me, but humanity can be pretty impressive when we put our minds to it.”

Much like The Martian, Project Hail Mary has a whole lot of science. That is Weir's style. And, much like The Martian, it can get info-dumpy. But, I think it depends on how much you enjoy science, physics, and math. I appreciate those subjects, and Weir's descriptions got me excited and interested in the idea that the story was theoretically possible. Knowing how much Weir enjoys science, I am betting much of it is possible. Maybe, not probable. But when the fate of all human existence hangs in the balance, humanity would do some crazy things.

Aside from the exciting plot, a significant part of this novel is the supporting characters. Without spoiling the story, one of my favorite characters was that of Eva Stratt. She is tasked with putting together the team, science, and space ship to save humanity. She is a bulldozer in high heels. But surprisingly, instead of going to type and making her a bitch, she is ruthlessly efficient. I would be intimidated to be around her but not because she was going to tell me off. More because she would be weighing and measuring my usefulness.

There are other great characters in the story that, again, without spoiling it, show Weir's appreciation for science fiction. And, as a science fiction lover myself, I appreciated how he constructed them. I know that you will like what he did too. Rocky is one of my favorite characters in science fiction now.

Project Hail Mary is a great story. It is filled with all the things that made The Martian great but added in a thrilling tale and another empathetic protagonist. It was delightful, and I plowed through it, finishing it off in one day. Come for the fun story; stay for the great characters.

Thank you to Netgalley and Tor.com for providing me with a copy of this in exchange for my open and honest review.

Over The Woodward Wall by A. Deborah Baker is a complicated book to review. A. Deborah Baker is the newest pseudonym of prolific author Seanan McGuire and goes hand in hand with one of her other works, Middlegame. It is meta, Over the Woodward Wall was mentioned in Middlegame, and now we have the full children's book to go with it.
Honestly, I wasn't even aware of the connection until I had an a-ha moment about halfway through the story. You don't need to have read Middlegame to appreciate Over The Woodward Wall. Still, I think readers will have a fuller appreciation and understanding of the story if they have read Middlegame.

“Humans always look the same to me once they're old enough to leave the nest. Hatchling humans are one thing, but the rest of you? Pssh.”

The story is about two children who are polar opposites of each other in almost every way. Avery, who is calm, collected, systematic, and rule-abiding, is half the duo. While Zib, who is loud, frizzy, wild, and free-spirited, is the other half of the pair. Together they balance each other and cancel each others strongest tendencies. The only thing Zib and Avery have in common is their age. That is... until a chance meeting while on a wall to the Up and Under intertwined their destinies. Now, in a land completely different than our own, the two of them have to work together because they will never escape otherwise.

Seanan McGuire is a master storyteller. If you haven't had a chance to check out the myriad of her novels, series, and short stories, you should. She has a way about writing that is lyrical enough to dance across the pages, but substantial enough that a reader does not get lost in the words. All that being said, I don't think this is her best work. That is a relative thing. Even on McGuire's worst days, she still is a fabulous writer.

But, Over the Woodward Wall was missing something.

The story has a lot of good. The worldbuilding is well done. There are giant talking blue owls, waterfalls made of mud, a crow girl, and so many other fantastical things. It is reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland and McGuire's Wayward Children series. The world is an elaborate creation, and it is believable and whimsical at the same time. I can see two children getting lost in all this.

“Neither of them could see the cliff they fell past, but if they had, they would have understood the mud a little better, for the stone was banded in pink and blue and purple, stripes of one color sitting atop the next, like something from a storybook.”

Avery and Zib are fun lead characters that balance each other well but learn to adapt to the situations as they arise. It is a good lesson for kids because, technically, this is written for children. But I think the lessons were too heavy-handed; every character Avery and Zib crossed had something to teach them, some lesson. That is generally important in a fable; it seems too much. Even fables and children's stories have subtleties. Because it was apparent what each of the characters was doing, I could not get engaged in it as much as I would have liked to.

On the flip side, the story did not seem long enough. It felt incomplete. I wanted more. Maybe that will be realized in future books, but I ended this story slightly dissatisfied. It was a weird combination of too much info in one part of the story and not enough in another.

“A piece can represent the whole,” said Meadowsweet. “If the human child wants to hold up a branch and say it means the entire tree, I don't see where it's another human child's place to stop it. Representative symbols are an essential piece of making so many things. Without them, we wouldn't have maps, or books, or paintings. Peace, human child. Let your fellow be.”

Of course, even with slight criticism of the plot, this is a fun story. The children's voices are engaging, and its meandering manner is thematic. You are meandering with the kids as they make their way through the world. And, even though this isn't McGuire's best work, it is still a fun read. Besides, I loved Middlegame. It was one of the best books I read last year, and the meta quality of Over the Woodward Wall adds another layer to the story and makes me appreciate Middlegame all the more.

If you are a fan of McGuire's work, you will undoubtedly appreciate this. And, even though it wasn't as engaging as I had hoped, this is still a very good story and worth the time it takes to read it.

3.5/5 stars rounded to 4

The Ikessar Falcon, the follow up to by K.S. Villoso's The Wolf of Oren-Yaro is a book that avoids many of the pitfalls common to the middle book in the trilogy, and instead offers the readers clear plot progression, excitement, and character development.

“I've heard rumours you were dead.” “That's an improvement. Last time they said I was fucking goats.” “Oh, we took that one for a fact. What the hell are you doing here?”
― K.S. Villoso, The Ikessar Falcon

The Wolf of Oren-Yaro was one of my favorite reads last year. “Bitch, Queen, whore, warrior, wife, and mother: In The Wolf of Oren-Yaro by K.S. Villoso, Talyien aren dar Orenar is all of these and so much more.” After I finished Oren-Yaro, there was much fist-pumping. Talyien is a badass. Plain and simple. However, something changed as I read The Ikessar Falcon. While, Talyien is still very much a warrior queen, or Bitch Queen as she is often referred to by those who are lesser than her, she is not a caricature. She is not all sword and no soul. She is not all bravado with brains. Talyien is a bruised, batteling, and in some ways, a broken warrior who wants to protect those she loves. At all costs. Her upbringing allows her to do what must be done, however painful. But her heart and empathy allow her to understand the consequences of her actions. She internalizes them; she is bruised and broken by them. They become as much a part of her psyche as her sword training.

To give a very brief synopsis, the Bitch Queen is trying to save her son. I am going to quote the blurb on this because I think it sums the story up best, “Queen Talyien's quest takes a turn for the worst as she stumbles upon a plot deeper and more sinister than she could have ever imagined, one that will displace her king and see her son dead. To save her land, Talyien must confront the myth others have built around her: Warlord Yeshin's daughter, a symbol of peace, warrior and queen, and everything she could never be. The price of failure is steep. Her friends are few. And a nation carved by a murderer can only be destined for war.” As this story is much more about Tali's internal struggles and people's perceptions, it is not easy to sum it up. But know this, it is a great and terrible quest done by a mother who will do anything, and I mean anything, to save her young son.

“But even someone born and raised to be a queen can be short-sighted, maybe especially so, considering what I thought my life would be and how I would end up. I didn't know, I didn't know, I didn't know.
Ignorance can be the sweetest sin.”
― K.S. Villoso, The Ikessar Falcon

One of the things that stick out for me about Ikessar Falcon is that it is not an easy book. Firstly, my copy of the story clocks in at just under 600 pages. This can be daunting, but I don't want you as a reader to look at this tome and “nope” out. The Ikessar Falcon isn't a filler of a story where 250 pages are an actual story. The other 300 are extemporaneous filler pages describing the doorknobs, what the world looks like in painful detail, and what the Bitch Queen is wearing at various moments. I am looking at you, Robert Jordan. (Don't send me hate mail) What it does have is a complicated plot, with multiple layers of political machinations, batteling, warring cultures and religion/belief systems, and a collection of antagonists that are downright scary in the psychopathy.

Because of the amount of detail, political factions, it is easy to get lost in the book. It is my only quibble against the superb writing. I got lost a few times and wasn't sure whom Tali was talking to. So I backtracked to catch up. This probably is entirely on me, and your results may vary. If I were to reread this, I might make a chart to better understand the various war chiefs and locations. The world-building is exquisite, and as a side note, Villoso describes food in great detail. Some may not appreciate this, but I believe that getting to know a culture or a person, you can get a greater understanding of them by looking at the food they eat. Food is a cultural thing that all humans partake in. What we eat varies from place to place and can be defined by local produce and history. If you want to get to know a place, check out the food first. It is a good character and place identifier that is not often used in storytelling.

“The Oren-yaro do not lack for courage, it is true. We know how to face battles when the odds are stacked against us. We know how to give our lives for our lords and believe we know sacrifice like no other. But I did not face that dragon as an Oren-yaro. Our tenets may run deep, but they do not make us. I decided that if I ever get out of this alive, I would tell Rayyel that. We are flesh and blood, not words; we bend, we break, but our failings need not be etched in stone. I faced the dragon as someone willing to give her life for another not because of some deep-seated arrogance that I was better but because it was the right thing to do.”
― K.S. Villoso, The Ikessar Falcon

I want to talk briefly about the relationships in this book. If I say too much, I will give things away. However, Tali's relationships with the side characters in the story hinge on perceptions that those characters have of her and what she should be rather than what she is. This is true to some extent with Talyien and how she perceives who she is and her responsibilities. She is forever the daughter of a violent warlord, one who carved a road through the country made of the blood of those who stood against him. Is this Talyien? Is this who she is? I don't think she even knows, at least not yet. But slowly, as the story progresses, we see more and more of who she is. Not always the warlord's daughter, the betrayed wife, the mother, the childhood friend, and Talyien. The Bitch Queen who will hold her country together and save those she loves.

Damn the consequences, and damn those who stand in her way.

I know that K.S Villoso has much to show us readers. I know there will be more heartbreak, intrigue, power plays, and psychopathic characters. I am ready for it. Tali is a character that I think will bend but will not snap. One that will continue to do what is best and damn the consequences. I am here for it. Bring it Villoso, bring on the woe.

“My name is Hadrian Blackwater.”
“Congratulations.”
“Uh ... what's yours?”
“Leave me alone.”
― Michael J. Sullivan, The Crown Tower

Please give me a strong duo any day. Give me two characters that play on each other's strengths and weaknesses, that while the pair of them are lesser together, they will become unstoppable. This is, hands down, one of my favorite tropes. In this world, there is even a word for this kind of partnership, a Riyria. And this is the idea of collaboration; this companionship and partnership is the foundation for Michael J. Sullivan's The Crown Tower.

The Crown Tower is the first book of the Riyria Chronicles series. It is our first introduction to Hadrian Blackwater's and Royce Melborn's world. The Crown Tower is a book that helps lay the foundations of Royce and Hadrian's legendary relationship. It is the origin story that helps fill in some of the gaps in the later novels.

“Hadrian reeked of death. It wasn't the sort of stench others could smell or that water could wash, but it lingered on him like sweat-saturated pores after a long night of drinking.”

Much of this novel is told from the point of view of Hadrian. Hadrian is a wandering ex-soldier, war-torn, and tired. He seems so much older than his young years. Hadrian has seen so much death and destruction in his short life that he feels done with it all. Upon hearing about his father's death, Hadrian decides to meet with his father's friend Arcadius. Arcadius lets Hadrian know that he had to perform a task for him. He needs to steal a book from a tower, and he needs to do it as the partner of Royce. Royce is a man who would kill you as soon as look at you. Where Hadrian is clumsy, Royce is stealthy. Where Hadrian is loud and boisterous, Royce is taciturn. They are entirely different and would not make great partners.

Although much of the novel is around Hadrian and Royce, we are also introduced to Gwen. Gwen might be one of the best female characters in fantasy that I have ever read. Gwen, a whore at a tavern, has been waiting for the last five years for a man bloody and broken to come walking into her life. As per her mother's dying request, Gwen must wait. But as she waits, she starves or is used and beaten by the tavern owner. Her life is unsafe, and she needs to make a choice about her future.

“Holding the metal coins was like cupping summer or sunshine.”

What starts as a quest between to of the most unlikely people changes and develops across the novel's span. This development is exciting for me as a reader, and I am in a unique position because the Riyria novels are utterly unknown to me. I have a blank slate when it comes to Hadrian and Royce. I know absolutely nothing about this world. However, I can tell you from a standing start that this is a fantastic story. Firstly, the world-building is stellar but does not overshadow the characters. You have a general sense of what things look like and how everything fits into the world's pattern. The action is intense, especially the fight scenes. Hadrian is a weapons master, he carries three swords strapped to him, and it is exciting to see how fights play out. Royce is like a spider, stealthy and invisible till he strikes. Pretty much the opposite of Hadrian. Secondly, the dialog makes this book. The bantering between Royce and Hadrian is funny and realistic.

“I'm not going to kill these people,” Hadrian said. “They're nice people.”
“How do you know?”
“I talked to them.”
“You talked to me too.”
“You're not nice people.”
“I know, I know, I have those wolf eyes that good old Sebastian warned you about. Remember him? The nice man who, along with his nice lady friend, was planning to slit your throat?”
“He was right about you at least.”

Thirdly, this story feels very solid. It feels like Sullivan is setting the stage for something grand to come next; everything reads purposefully. All the details are essential, and I know that they are building to something great.

“We've planted the seeds. All we can do now is wait and see what grows.”

As I said, I did not know this story until it was recommended to me by Justine from whispersandwonders.com. Someone I think has perfect taste in novels and has not led me wrong yet. And, let me tell you this was a fun story. I can tell it is going to fabulous as I keep reading the books.

This is a buddy story of epic proportions. I am hooked, and I can't wait to read more.

The Lore of Prometheus: A Modern Fantasy Thriller by Graham Austin-King reminds me a lot of a James Bond novel nestled into some urban fantasy. It is pure adrenaline!

“McCourt shook his head. “I'm not, John. I saw him pull the trigger. I saw the muzzle flash. And then I saw the bullet. I saw it just hanging there in the air, halfway to you. I'll never forget it, or the look on your face. Pearson died scared, but you, you had this look... I don't even know how to describe it. It was like you were taking a test or something. Like you were concentrating, but furious at the same time. So angry, I've never seen anyone so angry. And your hand, held out, like you were warding the gunshot off...”

The story starts with Carver, an ex-military black ops soldier, gambling in a casino. There is nothing incredibly unique or different with Carver. He is a man of a particular skill set trying to make his way in the world with wicked PTSD. Carver gets into some financial trouble with the wrong kind of people and ends up needing to take a protection job in Kabul to make some quick cash. By this far into the novel, you think you know where this is going, but you don't. Remember, there is a fantastical aspect of the story that we haven't discovered yet.

What could be fantastical with Carver? He sees hallucinations of his dead squad members and is destroying himself with guilt. But, that seems like that is all until you read that Carver is called The Miracle of Kabul.

“I might be a whore with a gun, but I'm an honest whore. Once I'm bought, I like to stay bought.”

The story quickly shifts to that of Mackenzie. Mackenzie wakes up in a dark room, extremely thirsty, chained to a wooden board. An absolute nightmare scenario. Austin-King does a great job here differentiating the voices of Carver and Mackenzie. Where Carver is cold and professionally detached through years of training, Mackenzie does what any average person would and screams. She shouts for help till her voice cracks. Two hoses are hanging from the ceiling; one has water and the other food. Mackenzie is like a hamster locked in a cage.

As a reader, you wonder where these two stories are going to collide. Carver is on protection duty in Kabul, and Mackenzie is... somewhere.

“What I have is some kind of PTSD. Hallucinations brought on by trauma and survivor's guilt. I've done enough research on my own, whilst avoiding support groups and therapy, to know that much. I know avoiding the help is a bad idea. Maybe I'm hoping it will burn itself out. Maybe I'm an idiot.”

Suffice it to say their stories do hit and become an exhilarating thrill ride. Austin-King pulls no punches; these two are fractured, broken, mended, and fractured again. The psychological manipulation of both of them is something. You know that Austin-King researched interrogation techniques because the scenes involving Mackenzie and Carver are well thought out, perfectly paced, and terrifying.

The question on my mind when I got to the end of the story was, “Are Mackenzie and Carver the good guys or the bad?” Maybe a little of both? They are believable characters as they fall in shades of gray instead of everything being black and white.

“We,” Janan nodded. “The others working in what we've come to call the Prometheus Project.”

Also, a great thing about the writing of this story is the lightness some scenes have. The setting can be almost savage, but the characters both have biting humor, which I appreciate. It helped stand in contrast with the book's serious tone and not pull the reader down into the muck and mire of it all. You watch these characters broken on the wheel of scientific breakthrough.

My only slight complaint about the story is that, for me, there was a slight disconnect between the story beats of the beginning, middle, and end. It did not flow as well as I would have liked from each dramatic section and felt a bit jarring. Mostly on the side of Carver. But the story beats themselves were all written very well.

The Lore of Prometheus is a brilliant take on government experimentation and the Men in Black boogeymen concept. The story is shocking in its ferocity because Austin-King holds no punches. It deals with PTSD in a real way, it deals with psychological damage brought on by trauma, it has realistic characters... it is pretty much everything you would want in an exciting book. And the finale will blow you out of the water. No, seriously, it was an edge of your seat exciting.

I hope there is another book.. because damn. I want to know more.

Storytellers is not a fantasy story, at least not in the typical sense. But for something to be a fantasy story, there needs to be a layer of the fantastical, and Storytellers has it. When you read Storytellers, you step in the author's love of Iceland, both of its immense rugged harshness and beauty. I have heard it referred to as fantasy-adjacent, and that is an apt description, for this is undoubtedly a fantastical story that can only be told from an author like Bjørn. You can see his love of the landscape of Iceland gleaming in every word and description.

The story is two-fold: the current and the past. In the current story that takes place in Klettafjörður, the setting takes place in the early 20th century. We have a reclusive smith named Gunnar rescuing an injured stranger, and in exchange for help from Gunnar, the stranger, Sigurd, must “sing for his supper.” He has to tell Gunnar a story, and better make it interesting. In this, Storytellers has the feel of One Thousand and One Nights. As the story progresses we step into it the past, into a small Icelandic village. As the story progresses, we learn that not all is as shiny when you start to dig under these characters' skin. We know more about why Gunnar is such a reclusive, and that we have unreliable narrators in these characters.

As I mentioned, structure-wise is told between two alternating timelines—both the past and current time. Readers need to pay close attention to this, as I had some difficulty navigating the switching from the narrators initially. As the book progresses, it got more comfortable because the cast of characters had developed their own voices, and everything starts to come together, building a tapestry.

One of the best parts of this book and one that I applaud Larssen is how rawly he demonstrates substance abuse and mental illness. Depression, anxiety, alcoholism, imposter syndrome are genuine parts of the human psyche. They deserve to be a part of realistic characters. In Storytellers, you will have these emotions staring at you in the face. It is a mistake to think that this story is a downer. Quite the contrary, this story feels like how I would believe Iceland feels to an outsider looking in, rough, dark, and beautiful. It is full of crags and mountains and personal struggle and eventual triumph. I think that to be an Icelander; you have to be made of sterner stuff. Even the storytelling itself, the language and imagery have a dim quality to it. It is as if Larssen wanted to give you only so much light to see the characters, much like the dimness of the light in winter, where all you can see is by the brief bit of sun and the occasional candle.

This is a slow burn of a novel, but the richness of the tapestry that Larssen creates is worth the time and effort it takes to get there. And when I reached the end, I felt like what started out as a somber and slow-burning story evolved into leaving me with a spark of hope shining brilliantly. It was worth the trip to get to this point and know if you decide to take this journey with Larssen, you will be greatly rewarded.

Deck Matthews's book, The First of Shadows, has been on my TBR for a long time. I ended up saving my reading of it until I got an opportunity to read it on tour. I got to support both the series and The Write Reads. Additionally, it is Self Published Fantasy Month, and being that this is a self-published fantasy title, the stars aligned, and I got a chance to check this out finally. And I am so glad that I did.

The First of Shadows is a great book and hints at a wonderful series. It evoked a lot of the nostalgia and longing of my first days reading fantasy. Although this is a much darker story, then say, The Belgariad, it has a lot of the same expressive writing and tone.

The first book of The Rivan realm, The First of Shadows, is a novella-length book, clocking in at 147 pages. It is an excellent bite-size chunk of the story and worldbuilding that is enough to entice the reader into the other books. The book is divided into three points of view. The first is a character named Caleb. Caleb is the youngest character in the main group. He is a rigger on a ship, who, from the get-go of the story, you can tell he has humility and ethics. He is the one who found Shem, badly injured, and helped him to safety.

Shem is the second point of view. He is gravely injured battling a demon is brought to the home of Caleb's mother. His injury is the catalyst for Caleb's life changing in ways Caleb can not imagine.

And although there are other important character's points of view in the story. I truly enjoyed that of Palawan Ty. She is a character that had been hunting a disturbance, a great evil that she sensed but could not understand and had been tracking it for two weeks. This brought her into the paths of Shem, Caleb, and Tanner.

The worldbuilding, pacing, and characterizations are all top-notch in this story. Although I do not want to give to much away about the plot, know that there are elves, magic, fighting, demons, and airships. It has the feel of a familiar fantasy story, with some steampunkesque additions. The battle scenes are written quite well also. Demons are scary creatures. “This will have you manling! This cannot be destroyed!”

Check out The First of Shadows if you want an exciting first novella in what should turn out to be an excellent, more extended series!

Witchsign by Den Patrick is a slow burn of a novel, but promises a solid foundation for the Ashen Torment series. Den, whose previous stories included the dark fantasy series Erebus Sequence, writes Witchsign as a novel that can be appreciated by adult and YA readers alike.

Their town of Cinderfall is colored in gray shades, whether it be from ash or dirty snow, brother Steiner and sister Kjellrunn have only known the gray their whole lives. Steiner is a fledgling blacksmith apprentice; his goals in life are to take care of his family, especially his eccentric sister Kjellrunn, find a wife to love, and live in as much comfort as he can fight for. Kjellrunn has always known she was a little bit different. Instead of chasing boys and persuing relationships as some of the other girls in her village, Kjellrunn seeks out the calmness and solemnity of the forest. It brings her quietude, beauty, and color.

A ship arrives, as it does every year, full of the Empire's Invigilators. Invigilators are servants of the Empire and, specifically, the Emporer that seek out and sense those with witchsign. A set of power of the elements. Some have the ability for fire, some earth, some wind, and some water. If an Invigilator detects the witchsign than that child needs to report to the ship the following morning and be taken away permanently. No one knows what happens to the child. They are just gone. The Inviligators are rightly feared by parents and children alike. The time of the Invilligators has come, and it is Kjellrunn's turn to be tested...

The story is told almost entirely from the perspectives of the two kids, Kjellrunn and Steiner. Kjellrunn is left in the village and shunned by the whole community save for her dad and uncle. Steiner is mistakenly shipped away to an academy/prison that sits on a rocky island surrounded by rough seas called Vladibodgan. The island's location is a great secret and only know to those of high ranks in the Empire, and ships that bring supplies to the island. The kids' lives have taken drastic turns from each other. Steiner must survive his ordeal. He doesn't have Witchsign, and that is of great embarrassment to the invilligators in charge. Kjellrunn shunning leaves her unable to get food for her family; her family's smith is also being shunned and told to move to another town. Kjellrunn only wants to survive and help et her brother back at all costs. At the same time, Steiner wants to get off of the island and protect his sister.

I think this parallel of intention between Steiner and Kjellrunn is the heart of the story. Both are desperate to save the other. This desperation fuels the characters desire chapter by chapter. It is an exciting perspective for a reader to watch the scenes unfold and know that they might miss each other if they are successful.

As far as characters go, Steiner and Kjellrunn are pretty standard. At least at this point. Steiner is a sort of angsty teenager but, at his core, has morals and strength. Kjellrunn is also similar, angsty, but where Steiner has a core strength, Kjellrunn has a lot of emotion. I think this part is a means of differentiating her from other characters in the book. She feels a connectedness to the world and nature specifically that is not experienced in other characters. Both characters have moments where they are irritating. Steiner is very much a hothead, and Kjellrunn is a bit flighty. I think that as the story progresses, we will see these two characters mature. Their natures both will be tempered by experience, and they will grow as people.

There are also some great side characters in this book. The book mainly focuses on the siblings; however, we get insight into the side characters and interact with them. I get the impression that their presence in the main character's life will play a crucial role in future books.

I generally enjoyed Witchsign. Some moments slowed the pace down, and I was looking forward to switching perspectives. I think inevitably when reading Witchsign you will be either Team Steiner or Team Kjellrunn. Both have similar goals, save the other person. But I found myself on Steiner's team. I looked forward to the parts that featured him while not being wholly engaged in Kjellrunn's plight. Maybe that will change in future books, and Kjellrunn will be a character that will have more growth and be more enjoyable for me to read. But as it stands, she seems almost as a side character.

The worldbuilding shines in this book. Patrick expertly creates a unique world. Some elements build on popular mythology in fantasy novels, but generally, the world feels very fresh and inventive. I loved the magic system. The last 20% of the book moved at a lightning pace. The action, coupled with the sold world creation, made it fly page to page. I hope that this pace continues in the next novel, Stormtide, and I am looking forward to seeing what new plot twists Patrick will pull.

J. Zachary Pikes Orconomics on the surface, looks like your typical fantasy story. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. The thing is five pages into the book; you know that you are entirely wrong. There is nothing standard about this exciting, hilarious story told from the multiple points of view of the “heroes.” But at its heart, Orconomics is a scathing and effective satire. It is capitalism and the dangers of, set in a magical world.

I did not see that coming.

The Plot
The plot of the story, as mentioned before, is about a group of reluctant heroes. They are gathered together to go on a quest looking for treasure and finding lost relics. There are quite a few different political and economic plays by various groups around this quest. Things are not what they seem. At times the plot was a bit hard to follow, but as the story reaches its conclusions, everything becomes clear.

The Satire
The questing party, professional heroes down on their luck, are being supported by a local religious community and a cadre of investors who invest in quests in exchange for a portion of the loot. This usually comes from non papered characters or shadowkin that are seen as fodder and regularly killed and hunted to increase hero rankings. Their only mistake is that they are a nuisance to humans and possibly have pillagable loot. The higher ranking the hero is, the better the quests. It sounds like a very familiar scenario, that of Hollywood movies. Movies get made with a well-known actor; interested parties then fund the film in exchange for a portion of the generated revenue. The actor and their following is a commoditized asset that rises and falls based on the actor's successes and failures. Orconomics is more cutthroat in the successes and failures, literally, but the economic system is the same.

This book's satire takes on some pretty hard-hitting ideas. Firstly, we have the whole questing system. It treats the heroes as commodities bought and sold, as I said earlier—a very Hollywood idea. Orconomics also touches on the toll of drug addiction, specifically opioid or pain killer addiction, which is rampant in cities across the world. One of the main characters, who once was a huge and well-known adventurer, had too many injuries requiring healing potions. Eventually, the healing potions become what she lived for, and addiction occurred. She then became a shell of her former self, always looking for a reason to get high. The author addresses this in a scene talking about people out on the street, cutting themselves so that they need to use a healing potion.

Pike also touches on class system dynamics; market commoditized objects such as magic swords, religious zealotry, and the business of making money from it, and lax laws for weapon ownership. A stand-in for lax laws around gun ownership. You will read this thinking that Pike is brilliant as hell, and be a little sad that our world is so near in line with the one in Orconomics.

Characters
Firstly, the main character is a dwarf named Gorm Ingerson. Much of the story is told from his perspective. He is a tenth level hero, who, twenty years ago, “supposedly” made the mistake of running to save himself when most of his party perished. He was left shammed while another party member who stayed to fight became one of the land's best-known heroes. The rest of the hero party is full of misfits. They all have a reason to be there and are hoping for another shot. This leads to a sense of urgency in the questing; they all need to succeed in this quest.

Because each party member has a distinct voice written well by Pike, the dynamics of interpersonal relationships between the questers and character development truly come through. We are told very early what each of the characters are facing and working with. One is a drug addict who is addicted to healing potions and alcohol. Gorm, as I mentioned earlier, is fighting his past. Another is a very skilled mage that is not useful in a fight. At the same time, the other mage is an excellent brawler but has no finely honed skills. Another is a shadowkin just trying to survive. The shadowkin's, a goblin, and his relationship with Gorm are the book's best parts. Best and certainly funniest. I laughed for a good two minutes after reading how Gorm found out how to say the goblin's name. Finally, we have one who rarely speaks, and another running from a mobster—all work to play off each other and develop as characters.

The Conclusion
Man, this is a great book. And, five minutes into reading it, I understood all the love for it. It was the SPFBO4 winner, and now I can see why. The relationships, the story, and the allegory to everyday economics are so cleverly done that they might go under people's radar. I didn't figure out half of them until I sat down to write this review. It all started to come together, and I realized how creative Pike is. The book was funny, and heartfelt which, in the face of some pretty hard plot ideas, is important and kept the tone light. Had he not done that, this book might be too depressing to read. But, as it stands, it is a perfect balance. I am a fan of this book, obviously, and will be jumping into the next book, Son of a Liche, as soon as possible.

It is a worth it read, so check it out.

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.

Last year I reviewed one of the most atmospheric books I had ever read—Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh. It was whimsical, verdant, and dark. When I think about it a year later, I still get the mental picture of a deep lustrous forest with secrets to keep. Silver in the Wood was the first book in the Greenhollow Duology. The second, Drowned Country, is as good as the first one, although the tone is slightly different.

Drowned Country brings us many of the characters from the first story, specifically of the two male leads of Tobias and Silver. Where Silver in the Wood was very much Tobias's story to tell, Drowned Country is Silvers. It has been two years since the first novel has taken place. While in the first story, the setting of the deep dark woods was a character as much as Tobias was. Now in Drowned Forest, the temperament of the story has changed too much more character-driven.

Silver has a difficult time finding his footing as the new wild man of the forest. He is sulky, petulant, and bored. Tobias has taken to working with Silver's mother, the aging monster hunter Adela Silver. Adela asks Silver to come to help her with her newest monster problem. There is a 900-year-old vampire afoot and a missing ingenue that needs rescuing. Silver is bored and wants to get back some of the excitement that he had when he was not the wild man. Thus starts their adventure. Things certainly do not pan out as we think they will.

Most of the story is the tension between Silver and Tobias. There is a certain charm between the two of them, a lightness that comes off easily and is a testament to how good Tesh's writing is. Their relationship had an effortless quality to it. I spent much of the book wishing they would work things out. The background story of elves and Maud is less important than their relationship. It is what they were doing at the time, but it is not all-encompassing.

The small detractor I found with this novel is that I wished it was longer, and the plot felt more important. I wanted it fleshed out. It had some pretty vague points that lost me as a reader. And, because of its vagueness, it lost some of the atmospheric quality. I couldn't picture it as well as her first book, Silver in the Wood.

In the end, Tesh did a great job with this book. It is a fine ending or beginning depending on how you look at it to this Duology. I loved the romance between the two of them; there is a slow burn quality to it that is almost steamy. This book gave me some warm fuzzies.

I am sad that the series is over, but in many ways, the journey of Silver and Tobias is just beginning.

Jackson Ford's irreverent story The Girl Who Could Move Sht With Her Mind is as fun as the title suggests. Seriously, I laughed out loud a few times. My favorite protagonist type is snarky. I enjoy a good bit of snark and a well-placed quip. I also enjoy it when people lose their shit and are fed up with your antics, which is Teagan, in a nutshell. Teagan is a woman, put in ridiculous situation after ridiculous situation over 22 hours. Oh, she is also The Girl Who Can Move Sht With Her Mind. So the jobs she deals within this novel are... a bit out of the ordinary.
In the first chapter of the book Teagan is plummeting from the top of a skyscraper; she has ten seconds to live. Her Day gets worse from there.

Teagan is like most young women living in Los Angeles. She works a job she puts up with and has weird semi-sorta friendships with those she works. She also has an overbearing boss and big dreams.

All of these things are factually true.

Except that Teagan works for a clandestine operation founded by the government that uses her abilities, namely moving sht with her mind, to acquire information and stick it to the bad guys. Whomever the current bad guy is, though she never kills anyone. It is nothing like that, and she tries to do as much good as she can. Her weird relationships are with her coworkers, who have almost as strange backstories as she does. And her boss is a terrifying governmental agent and will put her in a cage if Teagan steps out of line. A literal cage. But she does have the big dreams of owning a restaurant and eating the best food. As you can probably tell, Teagan is a cool character. Very much an average person except for that one small thing. A long time ago, Teagan got tinkered with. Something extraordinary happened; she acquired the ability to move items with her mind. Nothing huge, she isn't moving buildings. But up to three hundred pounds and ten feet from her, Teagan can reach out and grasp inorganic objects with her mind. How or why is not important, she just can. She is an X-Men character who drinks a lot of coffee and swears a lot. “Superheroes in comics and in movies pull off that secret-identity shit all the time. But this isn't a movie, or a comic, and I am definitely not a superhero. Secret Identity? I can barely pull of the identity that I have. I won't do that to Nic. I won't put him in that situation.”As I mentioned, the story starts with a plummet off of a very tall building with a screaming coworker in her arms. Things have gone pear-shaped very quickly on a job, and the only thing Teagan could think to do was to throw them off the 82nd floor of a building and hope for the best. Her teammate has agoraphobia; this does not engender team unity between them. Most of her team considers her a strange liability. Especially the woman who is screaming in Teagan's arms because she believes she is about to die. They survive. But later, while Teagan is out getting some most excellent takeout, a dead body is found with a piece of rebar wrapped neatly around his neck. Using her powers in such a way is verboten. The murderer would have to be a person with telekinesis, and Teagan is the only person who has that? Right? Well, Teagan has 22 hours to find out who did it and prove her innocence, or it is back to government labs in Waco, Texas, for the rest of her days. “The state hadn't helped. The state - states plural, actually simply didn't care. He was bounced from office to office, and the trail ran cold within weeks.”There is a compelling sense of urgency in this novel. 22 Hours feels like we are living Teagan's experiences in real-time. That sense of urgency drives the plot beats from one moment to the next. It also causes Teagan to make poor choices because, at this point, Teagan is a woman at the end of her rope. She is out of telekinetic juice, out of coffee, and out of time. This story is told from the perspective of two people, mostly alternating chapter by chapter. We have Teagan, the main protagonist, and a harried good guy, and then we have Jake, the antagonist. Jake is, in most ways, a complete opposite of Teagan. They have similar backstories. Teagan was orphaned in her teens and was picked up by a government agency who then experimented on her for five years. Jake has power but never showed anyone. He was also orphaned, but at a much younger age. He bounced from home to home in the system until he aged out, stole a car, and left.Where Teagan has kindness in her heart, Jake feels damaged. It is sad in a way. It feels like Jake could have been a good person, had the circumstances been different, but he is missing that moral core that guides good choices. We occasionally see it when he questions his own decisions, “Wait I don't want to kill anyone...” But he pushes through that in a singular focus on his goals. In that, I liked that Jake wasn't a cookie-cutter character. He had more dimension to him than the typical bad guy. Their two stories swirl around each other for most of the book—their actions directly affecting each other, but never quite meeting until the story unfolds.Some of the best parts of this novel are the interactions that Teagan has with her coworkers. As much as the 22-hour time limit affects Teagan's future, it also very much affects the team as a whole. Her choices, and the information that she can find directly influences the rest of the coworkers' lives. This incentivizes them to help her as much as possible, even if she annoys the hell out of them. It isn't just Teagan who has a wild ride over the next 22-hours, it is Paul, Carlos, Annie, and Reggie who are going along with her. “...They tased me. After that they got smarter. Kept me dosed.”The Girl Who Could Move Sht With Her Mind is fun and silly. Teagan makes stupid choices and shows her naivete, but damn, is this an engaging story. Teagan's revelations over the 22 hours allowed her character to expand and be a bit more than just action. This growth is an essential and wise choice on the part of Jackson Ford. It made this story more than action and wise-cracking. It gave it some heart, some sorrow, and a little pluck.

This is the perfect kind of book to kick back with after a long day and enjoy it. I highly recommend this because we readers want some psychokinesis fun and to cheer a character on. Teagan kicked a lot of ass, even when she was getting her ass kicked, and I am looking forward to the next book.

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.

Whether for good, like in this story or evil like HAL 9000 from 2001 Space Odyssey, emotional artificial intelligence is a well-used trope in science fiction. It hits on all the essential aspects that make readers empathize with the characters. Computers are objects that humans know intimately. Yet, they are “other.” Not human and never will be until becoming sentient. Then all bets are off, and we get an engaging and thoughtful story like in Damage by David D. Levine.

Damage involves a sensitive AI protagonist, JB6847, but affectionally nicknamed Scraps. Scraps is the combination of parts from two space crafts joined anew like Frankenstein's monster. She refers to herself as a Frankenship. Scraps is made up of not only the parts of the two broken ships, but also the memories of those ships—even the moments before death and the death of the ship's crew. Ships can have conscious thought within parameters and with that a sense of right and wrong. The reason why the ship is sentient never came through quite clearly, but sentient ships are also a well-loved trope in science fiction.

“Whereas I—I was a frankenship, a stitched-together flying wreck, a
compendium of agony and defeat and death unworthy of so fine a pilot.”

The one consistency in the coding of the scraps consciousness is the love and adoration of her commander. In this case, Commander Ziegler. But he sees her as nothing more than a means to end. It is a troubled relationship, as we see and hear Scrap's pain and obeying while the commander is unaware or does not care. At the same time, Scraps fights off PTSD from her memories from the other two ships and how they met fiery ends. She is terrified of dying, but soldiers on because the commander wills it so.

All of this leads up to the terrifying choice that Scraps will have to make. Will her own experience and ethics prevail over the commander's decisions and her love for him.

Damage touches on a lot of familiar ground, but I found the story engaging and moving. I empathized with this AI and the emotional drain of having to please two masters, herself and the captain. As a reader with an outside of the story, I had a different view of the situations she faces. And could see and understand her moral quandary and commander's personality when not blinded by love. But Levine writes this well by adding a bit of ambiguity to some of the choices Scraps makes. Life is rarely about black and white choices, but the shades of gray. No bad guy truly believes they are the villain. Scrap's choices added more humanity to Scrap's character because if a computer starts to understand nuance, pain, and fear, the line that divides what is human and what is not blurs.

“Yes, sir.” Valkyrie had used chaff, of course. Memories of fear and pain and tearing metal filled my mind; I pushed them away. My pilot's talents, my speed and skill, and my enduring love for him would keep us safe. They would have to, or the Free Belt would fall.”

The commander's character is one dimensional; he is a figurehead, an idol in Scraps world. However, the tech's role that patched up Scraps and had initially named her has a much larger and more critical role in Scrap's life. Tech shows Scraps kindness. It is in stark contrast to the commander's ambivalence. I viewed The Tech as Scraps's mother, while the commander is the father whom Scraps always wants to please. Scraps had to make her own choices, outside of the influence of her father to grow up.

I enjoyed this story, and I found it deserving of it's Hugo nomination. Scraps is a lovable character. The plotting was well done, and the moral quandary that Scraps faces, although I wasn't surprised by, but I still enjoyed reading. Damage is an excellent story to read, and at 7k words is a nice bite-sized piece of science fiction.

Ring Shout, by thrice nominated nebula award author P. Djèlí Clark will win a Hugo or a Nebula and maybe just both for this story. I do not say this lightly as there have been a plethora of gorgeous work, both indie and traditionally published, that have been stellar. We are talking body and soul moving type work, but nothing I have read this year holds a candle to this. If you are not familiar with Clark's other books, let me elucidate you and baptize you in the world of his short story and novellas.
Firstly, The Black God's Drums written in a steampunkesque New Orleans featuring a Moxy filled young teen, African gods, a kidnapped Haitian scientist, and a mysterious weapon he calls The Black God's Drums. When you read this story, you can practically feel the dark cobblestones under your feet, the heady moist air of New Orleans, feel the energy from sweaty dancing, and the power of a place steeped in lore. New Orleans is a special place, but the way Clark describes it is another world fueled by magic.

“As you know, we specialize in that thing you call hate. To your kind, it's just a feeling. A bit of rage behind the eyes.”

The second book in his catalog is The Haunting of Tram Car 015. Where Clark takes on an alternative Cairo where humans live and work with otherworldly beings. While The Black Gods Drums beats with the heart of New Orleans, Clark takes you to Cairo and feeds you passion, silks, smells, and hot sand. Where New Orleans is dark and humid, Cairo is bright and dusty.

The last story in his catalog is that of A Dead Djinn in Cairo. This also takes place in Cairo but has a slightly different feel. It is power, hot sand, history, and bright light, but the story is, at its core, a police procedural. It has a very sam spade type feel.

Why the history lesson on his other books?

So I can help to describe the genius loci of the worlds he creates. The spirit of the place that embodies the culture, architecture, history, and people all combined make a place original. Its own special unique thing that can not be duplicated. Clark is such a good writer that he has created a genuine genius loci in Ring Shout. Halfway through the story, I was looking for a door, a window, anything that could let me into this world. There is no way that it wasn't real.

The story can be summed up that an evil sorcerer has infiltrated some hardened American hearts with a movie The Birth of a Nation. Those people become Klan members and physically change to be the embodiment of the hate they have. They become demons, or as they are known in the story as Ku Klux. Monsters from hell. This sorcerer is trying to open the door to literal hell and devour the souls of Earth's people. Enter Maryse, a female African-American bootlegger from Macon, Georgia that hunts these racist demons. She carries a magical sword infused with the pain of dead slaves. Their voices sing to her and fuel the rage that allows her to manifest the sword and the will to face the Ku Klux. She is a flawed hero in every sense of the word. She has a broken past that haunts her, and she struggles with her choices. But my god, is she this stories champion. I don't think I have ever read a female hero as well written as her.

Aside from that short summation, I can't tell you more of the plot. I would ruin it. This is a novella, and Clark uses few selected words when describing his worlds. Everything is purposeful, and there is not a lot of room to dance around the events described in the book.

Clark writes terrifyingly fantastic body horror in this story. The Ku Klux is frightening in many ways. First, and most obvious, is what they represent. In its most visceral form, racism is pure hate, and that hate has given rise to these creatures that feed on hate. Iconographically, the white hood is frightening in what it represents historically. And the transformation of creatures you are already scared of because of what they represent goes a step further in becoming an actual demon. Clark took fear on many levels, and it works so well. It is very Lovecraftian.

I loved that I could tell some of the influences that Clark has had when writing this. You do not often come across writers that have been influenced by A Wrinkle in Time and Madeline L'Engle. But I felt it in the three Aunties can be likened to Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Who, and Mrs. Which. Or maybe a nod to the Greek Moirai. These wise Aunties guide Maryse, but they are full of secrets and know more then they are letting on.

Clark is one of the best authors I have ever read, and he is undoubtedly one of the greatest authors alive. I kid you not; if Clark described what fire was in a book of his, I would expect the pages to start to char and blacken as they internalize the prose he writes. To say this is good would be an understatement. All I can say is that Ring Shout should be studied in school for future generations to marvel and learn from.

I just witnessed the birth of a new American classic, and I stand in awe.

Thank you to netgalley for providing me with a copy of this in exchange for my open and honest review.

I was curious enough about this enough to buy a paper copy of it on amazon so I could better understand what the writer was trying to do here. This is a confusing book. It is neither a reference guide for people who are attempting to understand things about the kink world nor is it very funny. It skirts the line, not riding either side. It is almost as if the author went through and picked out some of the most mundane and most outrageous kinks, (dendrophilia anyone?) to talk about without really saying anything about them that could provide useful info while making some wild psychological claims about the reasoning behind people having specific kinks. Once again not really coming down on the side of factual or of a parody. It was just confusing.

The book itself is cute and put together well, a perfect little purple guide, but I can't recommend it.

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.

Few authors have had the effect that Raymond Feist has had on the fantasy genre. He is as synonymous with grand fantasy novels as Stephen King is with horror. As of right now, Feist has written 30+ books, most notably the Riftwar Cycle. A collection of fantasy stories that revolve around the world of Midkemia and Kelewan. However, Feist's newest series, The Firemane Saga, has the potential to be as widespread and loved as the Riftwar Cycle.

“The queen had a late child, yes . . . ,” said Daylon. He let out a long sigh. “Most likely it died during the taking of the villa. They threw babies from the cliffs to the rocks when the household was slaughtered. Perhaps he was one.”

The first book of the series, King of Ashes, details the fall of the Ithrace kingdom through great treachery. For more than a century, the five nations worked in partnership with each other to build a world of great prosperity. This is especially true of the Ithrace kingdom. They are known for the beauty of the land and a love of the arts and wealth that far exceeds the other four kingdoms. It indeed was a magnificent kingdom of milk and honey. The King of Ashes begins with a prologue after the great betrayal, and Ithrace is burning to the ground. The King of Ithrace, Steveren Langene, and his entire family are brought onto a stage and unceremoniously had their throats cut. The aim was to destroy every Firemane member and eradicate the family line.

But they missed one... and this is how a great fantasy story begins.

“So he had betrayed a man he loved like a brother to spare his people future ravages. As the priests of the One God would say, Daylon had made his pact with the Dark One; he had sold his soul.”

The last Firemane child, a baby, is spirited away from the burning city under cover of darkness to the land of the island nation of Coaltachin. Coaltachin, a secret people specialing in spying, thieving, and information gathering, is taking custody of the child until the child turns 17. From there, the Baron Daylon Dumarch will take back the child and explain to him his lineage if all goes to plan.

King of Ashes officially begins 16 years after the betrayal of Ithrace with the perspective of 16-year-old Hatu. There are a variety of viewpoints given in the story. This adds a certain roundness to the narrative and the ability to take in new perspectives. However, the majority of the viewpoints are from Hatu, Declan, and Hava. At this point, Hatu and Hava are dear friends and students at Coaltachin. At the same time, Declan is a journeyman smith finishing off his first masterpiece to claim Master smith in another town. Hatu, as a character, is young, impulsive, and angry. Although he has, through necessity, figuring out ways to calm the ever-present anger that boils inside of him, it still is there. Declan is in a lot of ways, the opposite of Hatu. Where Hatu is impulsive, Declan is steadfast. Where Hatu burns hot, Declan cools down to ice. It is ironic in the case of Declan when his life is on the line, and he must battle, he boils his mind down to a single point of action. He is ruthless, cold, and efficient. Both of the characters' lives slowly spin and swirl towards each other.

“He was content to rise or fall on his own ability, but when he failed due to lack of information, Hatu flew into a rage—often at himself for not acquiring the knowledge, or at others for not providing it. Unreliable information was what he hated most.”

The world-building of King of Ashes is thoughtful, expansive, and detailed. A well thought out world is Feist's wheelhouse. Although his stories tend to be character-based, Feist gives a perfect amount of detail to his worlds so that the reader can get a clear picture in their head. Any missing information can be filled in by imagination. The characters are highly detailed, and the dialog does not ever have a forced or static feel to it—the bane of many fantasy books. Feist's characters tend to speak like humans and have human reactions. Honestly, Raymond Feist is a master at this kind of fantasy. You would think that a lost child destined to save the world, might be a little tropey. In any other hands, it probably would be. But this is Feist, and he could write a phone book and have it be engaging.

“Declan said, “One last thing, my lord.” “Yes?” said Daylon, turning to Declan. “My master said that I needed to see you to honor his pledge.” “Who was your master?” “Edvalt Tasman.” Daylon looked at his half brother, who raised an eyebrow and gave him a short nod. Daylon was silent for a moment, then said, “He was as gifted a smith as I've ever known. I made him promise he'd send me his best apprentice. So, that would be you?” “He judged me fit to be named master,” said Declan. “I was an orphan and he was like a father to me, and so because of that, I honor his pledge to you, my lord.” Daylon was again silent, then he said, “You tell me this more from duty than from any desire to seek service.” “Truth to tell, my lord, I promised him I would do this, but my ambition is to set up my own forge and be my own man.”

Pacing-wise, this book is a slower burn. It balances giving enough information to the reader while keeping the pace moving. This isn't easy in the first book of a series. Feist does this generally very well. But at points, in the story, the pacing lags a bit, especially in the beginning. I want to get to know these characters; I want more from them. But Feist teases the readers with glimpses. One of the most interesting and I would think pivotal figures later on in the series is Baron Daylon Dumarch and his brother. The interactions these two have coupled with the political climate, and the Baron's everpresent guilt made me want to skip to his sections. His pain is almost palpable. “I seek only not to despise the man I see in the mirror,” said the Baron of Marquensas.” He betrayed his best friend and will spend what is left of his life atoning for it.

One of the other aspects of the book I particularly enjoyed is the magical system. Many fantasy books use magic as a sort of Deus ex Machinea. It can do anything, save anyone. King of Ashes is much more subtle. There is magic in this world, but its extent and how it works is not fully fleshed out at this point. I like that. It teases the reader and allows the narrative to the rest of the great dialog and characters rather than flashy magic.

King of Ashes is a bright start to a new series. It is epic in scope, detailed in character, exciting, heart wrenching, and entertaining. It is all the best parts of the fantasy genre written by a master. Much need not be explained when you say the name, Feist. Readers know that they are in the presence of something great, and King of Ashes is no different.

Peace Talks, Jim Butcher's newest installment in the Dresden Files universe is the culmination of all of Harry's experiences, pain, and victories blending into one great explosion that resonates with, “I am enough.”

It has been a long, long time since I have read any new snark coming from the mouth of Harry Dresden. There is a giant hole in my TBR stack that only a Dresden book can fill. This series are books that make you smile and not take life so seriously; they are the best parts of Urban Fantasy as a genre. The series taken as a whole is half Sam Spade (trench coat and all) and half the tv show Supernatural. It is wizarding with an attitude. It is a take no bullshit, going to do what is right, Dresden is going to smite the bad guy kind of fun. It is heart and soul and so many things. Although there have been a few short stories since Butcher's last book, it has been six years since the previous full Harry novel.

But let me tell you folks; this book is worth the wait.

We return to Dresden's world very near where Skin Game left off. You can read Peace Talks singularly. However, I think readers should read Skin Game. There are many plot points that Butcher touches on that might be lost on readers if you aren't vaguely familiar with them. Harry is still a member of the council and is the Winter Knight for Queen Mab. All of these twist and turn and pull Harry's loyalty in many directions.
Complicating things is a situation with Thomas. Thomas, for some reason, does something very uncharacteristic for himself and gets in trouble.

In Peace Talks, Harry, an “every situation can be solved with a tornado” kind of wizard, is faced with something he is not known for talking and subtleties. Peace Talks is just that; it is the gathering of most of the world's significant magical forces to talk. The idea is not to jump all over each other, whip fire around, or see who is wielding the biggest magical staff. Instead, it is talking in peace amongst your peers and hammering things out. Also, Peace Talks touches on familial issues: Dresden's relationship with his brother and Grandfather play a large part in the Narrative. We are blessed with moments of Harry interacting with reoccurring characters. Butters, Karrin, Molly, and Mouse all have standout moments. Especially Mouse, that dog has single-handedly made me want a Foo dog so that I may name him Mouse. Don't tell me Foo dogs aren't real.

“Okay,” Butters said. “So... that just happened.” He regarded the ectoplasm and then me and shook his head. “Your life, Harry. What the hell?”
-Peace Talks by Jim Butcher

Dresden seems more at peace with who he is in this book more than any book or short story written. He has great interactions with Karrin that exude hard-fought-for calmness and familiarity. It is lovely to read as Harry deserves some peace in his romantic life for once. There are also moments later in the book where, while battling a foe, Harry realizes that he is his own man and does not need to explain or defend it. Even to his most trusted advisors, friends, and lovers. You would think that by book 16, he would have figured this out by now. But there is a difference in knowing something and internalizing it. I believe that Harry has finally internalized that he is enough; he always been enough, and given his history and experiences, people should start believing in him.

This book is also a love letter to the idea of found family.

“Yeah, one second.” I finally found the folded-up piece of paper with the weekly passphrases on it in the depths of the gym bag. I unfolded it, shook sand off it, consulted it, and read, “All of my base are belong to me. What does that even mean?”
Peace Talks by Jim Butcher

A little back story on Harry's character. He is an orphan, both of his parents have passed away, and his grandfather had raised him. He has few people to turn to that are blood-related. So instead, he finds his people, his family. They become as dear to his heart as much as anyone who shares his blood. It is part of what makes Harry such a fun character to read. He has a certain authenticity; he genuinely loves the people he adopts as family members. Sometimes this is used to hurt him as we have seen in previous books, with his daughter used against him as leverage.

“Yer a wizard, Harry.”
Peace Talks by Jim Butcher

Pacing wise, this book feels different than previous Dresden stories. I know that this is marketed as having a small procedural arc like most of the Dresden file books do, this arc then sits inside a massive ongoing series arc. But although the end of the book does come to some conclusions as expected, it does not feel whole to me. Instead, it feels like it was written as 1/2 of a story to be concluded with Butcher's next book Battleground. This might be why they are being released close together as Battleground is due to be released on September 29th of 2020. This is pure speculation; Battleground might feel very much like its own book. But I think that we are going to get a more solid feeling of closure for Peace Talks when Battleground has concluded. Either way, Butcher is blessing us readers with two Dresden stories this year.

If you take on the Dresden Files, 16+ books, it might seem overwhelming. A lot is going on. But trust that even if you haven't read the previous books, you will enjoy this one. It is full of snark and quips, great plot, pacing, and standout moments. And, if you have read the previous books, you will fully appreciate it as it almost feels like he wrote it with the fans in mind. Butcher needed to remind longtime fans why this series is so much fun, and he does that in spades. As we have Battleground set to be released this fall, it is a banner year for Dresden Fans. If Battlegrounds is anything like this one, I don't think fans will be disappointed.

An adorable story about the love of a nut.

This is a sweet and easily read story about some of the excitement a little squirrel named nutsi has. He tries to catch the moon and falls with his friend getting lost. The ending is sweet and wrapped it up perfectly for a three to five year old range. It was really wonderful.

Thank you to Netgalley and Algonquin Books for providing me with a copy of this in exchange for my open and honest review.

Life is so much more than the struggle because what is the struggle if you can never stop and enjoy a sunset. I think that the ability to stop and be present is one of the best parts of The Lightest Object in the Universe by Kimi Eisele. It warms and delights in small beautiful moments. Life has crumbled as they know it. It could be many things, was it global warming that stopped the world, or was it pollution? Was it the flu? We never really know as readers. Because honestly, “the why” is not the most important thing. The most important thing is how we go on as people.

Sometimes I am sick of the dark despair that permeates apocalyptical novels. I know it's the apocalypse. It is supposed to suck. I know this as a reader and a regular person. Having a massive upheaval in one's life, uncertainty, and the real thought that maybe it will never go back to the way it was is terrifying. And right now, those thoughts are getting closer and closer to being prophetic.

But I need to remember that that is not all there is.

And for everything that The Lightest Object in the Universe is: a love story, a story of friendship, and a tale of survival, Eisele nails that even in the darkest times, there is hope; there is community, there is more than scary things. The Lightest Object in the Universe celebrates and calls attention to small moments that give you the reason that you fight tooth and nail to survive.

“The speed of this collapse astounds me,” she writes to Carson before “the darkness” wipes out the internet. “I guess I, too, believed in some kind of American exceptionalism, though I resented it enough to think I could destroy it. Now, look. Maybe we did.”―

Kimi Eisele, The Lightest Object in the Universe
The story follows two characters: a widower named Carson Waller, a high school history teacher on the East Coast, and Beatrix Banks, an activist on the West Coast. They meet, and there is magic between them a certain something. But before they get to figure out what that magic is fully, the lights turn out. In the last communique between them, Carson tells her, “If for some reason everything implodes and the shit really hits the fan, and we can no longer send words or speak to each other, I'll come find you.”

Carson sets his focus on Beatrix. It gives him hope in the face of having lost everything. Maybe she is more imagined and magical than who she is in life, but she is a connection to all that was lost and all that could be.

Carson begins his long epic trek through the wastelands of what was the United States. While walking, and as any historian would, he records the moments and experiences he has while he trudges through a broken America. He writes these down in a journal, and that journal becomes almost totemic. Beatrix, however, hunkers down and works with her neighbors in creating a small community. They band together to learn about chickens, bikes, home remedies, and their own experiences.



Narrative Structure
The book is written as a dual narrative; Carson's ambulatory experiences juxtaposed against Beatrix's stationary ones. While they are so different, it is easy to see the compatibility of these two characters. It isn't gushy over overly saccharin. It is a love story like two crashing waves heading for each other: one from the east and one from the West.

The book's entire experience is the anticipation of the moment when circumstances allow these two lovers to meet. Does it happen? That is not for me to tell you, but for you to discover yourself because it is a twisted and windy path that Eisele lays before them fraught with death, love, starvation, and the indelible human spirit and when faced with so many unknowns, no one can know what will happen.

Protagonists Vs. Antagonists
Each of the two main character's deal with antagonists. In Carson's case, it is the world at large and the pervasive hunger that he faces. He is given moment after moment to stray from his path. So for him, his struggles are “man vs. himself.” This trek is a monumental task he is facing, even in the best of circumstances. In Beatrix's case, she is faced with a boogie man of sorts. A Preacher on the radio named Jonathan Blue. A voice who tells you that all your troubles will disappear if only you give yourself over to him. It is alluring and seductive. His voice wafts through her small community as the pied piper but heard on the radio. It underminds everything that Beatrix is trying to do with her small community.

Should You Read This?
Is this book for everyone? Probably not. In some ways, it's descriptions of the beauties and quietudes of life after the apocalypse will seem mundane and, at the worst, naive to some readers. But for some, like myself, in a constant state of anxiety because the world I found this book beautiful. It reminds you to take a look at the beauty on a micro-scale, instead of getting swallowed by how massive a societal collapse is. It isn't grandiose or expansive, and it reminds me much of Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel. But The Lightest Object in the Universe is pleasant, romantic, lovely, and I think most importantly right now uplifting. Because dreams are worth chasing, after all, isn't that the whole point in living? Those dreams exist and should be fought for, even if the dream is another person that shines like a beacon of light through the vastness of the dark two thousand miles away.

I felt good after reading this, and I hope you will too.

If you would like to read more of my reviews, check out my site at www.beforewegoblog.com

I read and re-read Seanan Mcguire's books every year as a means of being comforted. Her stories, the Newsflesh series (under the pseudonym Mira Grant), and the October Days stories have brought me a lot of joy over the years. I find myself coming back to the stories every year like a comfy pair of shoes. There is just something about her writing that straddles the line between expressive and understated. She gives you the right amount of information that you fall in love with the world and want to know more about it. Because of that, her books always engage me. Plus, because there are so many plot intricacies in every book, I am rarely bored even on the second or, in some cases, fifth read.

A Killing Frost, Seanan Mcguire's newest addition to the October Daye series, is the fourteenth book. There is quite a lot to recap for this series; it is enormous! But to surmise, October Daye is the lead protagonist in a Fae/Human world. She is an investigator who can straddle both the fae and human world. As the stories progress, October becomes more entrenched in the politics and machinations of the Fae world. In this particular book, October faces familial problems mainly in the form of her stepfather Simon Torquil.

“When October is informed that Simon Torquill—legally her father, due to Faerie's archaic marriage traditions—must be invited to her wedding or risk the ceremony throwing the Kingdom in the Mists into political turmoil, she finds herself setting out on a quest she was not yet prepared to undertake for the sake of her future.... and the man who represents her family's past.”

Supporting characters from past books are again helping October with her quest. October, as a character, relies heavily on her relationships with her found family. October doesn't have friends; she has people who she adopts and loves fiercely. She is a mentor to some, a friend to others, and a lover to Tybalt. With October's development as a strong character, we get development from her supporting cast of characters. I find that to be one of the best aspects of this story. Quinton, Luiadeg, Tybalt, and more, develop their already stable identities. There are no cardboard characters in Macguire's worlds.

I don't want to give away to much about the plot. That would spoil this new episode in October's grand saga, and many of these books have a mystery aspect to the plot. But, I will say, as I mentioned earlier, that this book concentrates on the mysterious villain Simon Torquil, villain, who also is October's stepfather. They have a very complicated relationship. His story is epic and twists and turns. If you are a fan of the Daye books, you will not be disappointed. It is a page-turner! If you are new to the series, I suggest setting this one aside just a bit and jump into the 13 books that took place beforehand. You won't be disappointed. But if you are starting with this one, Macguire gives enough backstory so new readers will not be lost.

“Better him than me. Of the two of us, he's the one who actually speaks ‘diplomacy' with something other than a knife.”

All in all, this is a beautiful and exciting addition to the October Daye world. Some plot points are solved, and new things open up. Old characters get a moment to shine in the spotlight, but not all of them as the cast is way too big at this point. I also found the conclusion to be satisfying and leads into the next book with gusto.

The Killing Frost is an exciting and wonderful, and I am so glad I got the opportunity to read it. Check it out!