K.J.
Charles has a skill of writing historical romances of ordinary people who are
interesting without fancy titles or high social status. She gives her characters
skills and occupations that are unique and meaningful for the plot instead of
being mere gimmicks. And her gay historical romances never solely revolve around
the fear of being found out but have their unique obstacles on the way to
happily ever after.
How to Fake It in Society is about two men who know they’re not worthy of being loved. One
because he’s been brought up to feel insignificant, and the other because he
knows his entire life is a lie. They come together at the cross-roads in both
of their lives, and each turns out to be exactly what the other needs in his
life. But the lies are there and they’re not easy to forgive, as they’re exactly
the kind that makes the other realise how unworthy of being loved he is. It
takes a drastic turn for the two to find their happily ever after.
Titus Pilcrow
has made a meagre living as a colourist, someone who makes oil and
watercolours. But now he’s about to lose his shop, because his vindictive ex is
his landlord. But his fate takes a drastic turn, when his elderly client
pressures him to marry her on her deathbed so that her unworthy nephew won’t
inherit a penny. And then she dies, leaving him a fortune.
Enter Nicolas-Marc,
Comte de Valois de La Motte, who had quite counted on that fortune. He has a
moneylender at his neck, and he needs funds fast. But instead of asking for money
from Titus, he ends up befriending him. And it’s an excellent friendship that
gives Titus much needed self-confidence and happiness, while making Nico feel
like he isn’t a complete scammer. And then it all goes wrong, with no easy way
out to happiness.
This was a delightful
romance. I loved both men, their unique stories and especially Titus’
enthusiasm for colours. The detailed stories about different colours never felt
stamped on just so the author could show her research. They had a role in the
story, up to the climax. Bad guys had their comeuppances and good guys got
everything lovely. The men came together in the end on their own terms, without
lies or compromises. The reader can be sure that their union will last.
I received
a free copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Platform Decay
is book 8 in the Murderbot Diaries. Like most books in the series, it’s more a
long novella that only took four hours to read, but it’s a complete and
satisfying story, with no cliffhanger ending.
Murderbot has
arrived on a humongous planet-circling torus to free Dr Mensah’s family members
Farai, Sofi and Naja, who have been captured by Barish-Estranza corporation in
retaliation to events in the previous book. They’re already in a safehouse. Murderbot
simply has to get there and take them safely back to their escape shuttle. But
things get immediately complicated, because the person who has been helping
them wants Murderbot to save other people too, and they’re in a completely
different part of the torus, to a wrong direction from the shuttle.
The rescue
mission takes them through different zones of the huge torus, some of which are
civilised and some that are more like the Wild West. Some zones belong to B-E,
others don’t, but that doesn’t stop the corporation from chasing them.
Transportation turns out to be the greatest problem though. Murderbot isn’t
happy with having clingy humans and their emotions to account for. It’s even
less thrilled with its own new emotion module that keeps interrupting at worst
possible moments.
This was an
exciting flight through imaginative environments. Murderbot was mostly its
sarcastic self again, with no imminent mental breakdowns anymore, as the
emotion module did its job. It was trying new things like direct communication,
which went about as well as one can imagine. And it realises that having some
emotions isn’t all that bad, and sometimes it’s nice to be thanked and praised.
Especially if it comes from small children.
The story
isn’t entirely satisfying emotionally though. The setting is new, and the characters
are again people the reader hasn’t really met before. They turn out to be nice
additions, but the emotional connection isn’t there, like with Mensah, Amena or
ART. Their interactions with Murderbot weren’t as funny or poignant either,
though an understanding formed between them in the end. But there was Three,
the SecUnit Murderbot freed, exercising its free will with unpredictable
results. It was nice to follow the bond between the two. And the ending was
satisfying, leaving everyone in a good place. I hope we’ll get more books soon.
Out Law is book
number 18.75 in Dresden Files series, an odd number considering there isn’t a
book n:o 18.5 and it’s a long novella of almost 200 pages. I hadn’t read book
18, Twelve Months, which came out this January (2026), or the novella The Law
(2022), which apparently set the stage for this one, and it’s been ages since I
read the previous full book, Battle Ground, which came out in 2020. There were
a lot I didn’t remember and a lot that had happened in Harry’s life since then,
but I was able to read this perfectly fine without knowing all the details.
Though now I’m spoiled for some of them, should I go and read the books I
skipped.
Harry owes
the crime boss Marcone a favour. Marcone decides to collect. A goon of his, Tripp
Gregory, wants to get out of the life of crime by starting a charity to help
children. But he’s gone about it in a very gangster way, which has landed him
in trouble with the IRS, and a bookie who won’t pay up his winnings. Marcone wants
Harry to help. Harry is reluctant, because he doesn’t like Tripp. But Marcone
appeals to his moral core: you don’t always only get to help the people you
like or who deserve your help.
What starts
as a straightforward case gets a supernatural twist when someone sends a
demonic entity to try and kill Tripp. It turns out, Harry has battled the
entity before, and it’s kind of his fault that it’s on the loose. So, now it’s
personal.
This was a
good and compact, but full story with proper three acts and a good story arc.
The old Harry was back, a bit grumpy but one that isn’t crushed with grief,
guilt and PTSD. There were funny moments, and good banter. There were many life
lessons delivered to Tripp who took them like a five-year-old who has never
considered moral questions before. The enemy was powerful, but not overly so;
Harry was powerful, but not overly so. I liked this. It returned my love for
the series and I might continue with it again.
I received
a free copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
I went into
this book hoping for pleasant cozy fantasy with some adventure in the mix. I definitely
got that. Just not the way I thought based on the book description, which is a
bit misleading. But then again, so is Teddy, the book’s narrator. It’s not
entirely cozy in its details either (some gory stuff in the mix), but I’m not a
purist when it comes to genre conventions. I just allowed the story to take me
where it wanted to go, and I suggest other readers do the same, as it’s
definitely not where they expect it to lead.
An Accident of Dragons takes place in Summer. It’s an island where everything has its place
and nothing ever changes. The state of things is maintained by Summer, a huge
ancient dragon that lives in the caves beneath the island. And the island is
ruled by Summer, the dragon’s caretaker who is bonded with her. Much is made about confusing the three throughout the story.
The position
of the caretaker is hereditary, the next ruler inheriting some attributes
already at birth that allows them to connect with the dragon. But Jack, the
previous Lord Summer, had rebelled against becoming Summer and had died without
an heir. To everyone’s surprise, the dragon has chosen Teddy, Jack’s kept man,
as the next caretaker.
The book
starts six years after that. Teddy has mostly settled into his new position as a
ruler that he never thought to become. He’s an outsider to Summer, and has
never had a place there, because everyone’s place is set by the dragon and
nothing ever changes. Unlike Jack, he’s dutifully married a nice widow and
managed to produce an heir despite definitely preferring men, and now maintains
cordial if distant relationship with his wife and stepson while doting on his
daughter Zinnia, who is five.
And then
Zinnia is abducted by people from the mainland, where the people of Summer
seldom go, because Summer the dragon doesn’t want them to leave. Unlike on
Summer, things change on the continent. A cult is rising there that is
utilising dragons’ powers to subjugate everyone. And now they want a dragon’s
egg. Summer’s egg.
Teddy is
almost forty, not very strong despite the dragon altering his physique a
little, and a dandy who prefers fancy clothing and parties to heroics. But he
doesn’t hesitate to go after his daughter. With him is the entire navy of
Summer (three ships) and his stepson Brook who dreams of seeing the world. Turns
out, rescuing Zinnia is the easy part. Defeating a cult that wants Summer—the
dragon and island both—is another matter.
This was a
delightful read. It’s a book that firmly stands with the voice of its narrator,
Teddy, and it does it with great flair. He addresses the reader very directly
and with familiarity, but it isn’t until the very end that we learn he’s
talking to his children. He has a delightful voice, a rather straightforward
outlook on life, and no misconceptions about his importance, even though he’s
the ruler of the island. Slowly, we learn why that is the case. But he’s a bit
unreliable narrator. Or rather, he alludes to events of the past that give the
reader one notion, only to tell the full story later that reveals a different
picture.
Teddy is an
outsider, made evident because he looks different. It’s never stated outright,
but everyone on the island is white and he’s Black, or their world’s equivalent,
as skin colour isn’t mentioned, only shown on the book’s cover. But it’s not an issue to anyone; this isn’t a
book about race or racism. That Teddy is gay isn’t an issue either, or that he
maintains relationships even though he’s married. Everyone does the same, his
wife included. Teddy has an odd romance with a married father of two throughout
the book—odd because Teddy doesn’t really like him (although it turns out to be
a very good relationship.) But this isn’t a gay romance either—though there’s
room for it.
This is
mostly a book about becoming, and accepting oneself. Teddy realises that he’s
never really accepted that he’s Lord Summer, and has only waited for his
daughter to take over. He’s never really accepted that he’s a father to Brook
too, and that he has a wife who has her own needs. It’s about finding the
family he already has. Teddy who returns to Summer is different than Teddy who
left. The ending is satisfying, but there’s room for more adventures. I’d definitely
read them.
I received
a free copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Alchemised is one of those massive (1000+ pages) fantasy novels I loved to read back before
social media killed my attention span. Nowadays, I tend to give these a pass,
and I almost didn’t pick this one either. But I ended up buying a physical copy
on a whim, and instead of letting it gather dust on my shelf, I started
reading. And I’m glad I did, even if it took me two weeks to finish—and that’s
without constantly skipping to check my socials. I try to keep this review spoiler free, but if you want to be certain, read my short review here.
This is a
secondary world fantasy, a world with three moons and people with resonance, an
inner ability to transmute things like metal or fire, called alchemists. Resonance
doesn’t appear evenly in the world and it’s concentrated in Paladia, where the
Alchemy Tower gathers the most talented alchemists. Paladia is led by Holdfast
family who claim a divine right to rule and have the ability to transmute gold.
Not all
forms of resonance are allowed in the religion-led Paladia. Necromancy, the
ability to animate the dead is forbidden, as is its more benign counterpart, vivimancy,
the ability to heal. But a necromancer has risen who can create Undying, people
who have an incredible ability to heal but who aren’t entirely alive.
A
devastating civil war has been fought between the supporters of the rightful
rule and the Necromancer with his supporters. The book begins a year and a half
after the war has ended. The good guys have lost and the Necromancer is in
charge. It’s a harsh rule with human experiments and violent punishments meted
out by the High Reeve, the Necromancer’s closest man.
Helena Marino
has been confided in a stasis pod of the Necromancer’s people since the war
ended. She should’ve been sedated, but she’s been conscious the whole time. As
a result, she’s lost much of her memory. When she’s finally released, much to
the surprise of her captors who didn’t know she was there or who she is, she’s
sent to the High Reeve so that he can unravel her memory in case she knows
important Resistance secrets.
The first
part of the book is about Helena’s captivity in the High Reeve’s manor. His
name is Kaine Ferron and he used to be her classmate and rival at the Alchemy
Tower, not that she—an outsider to his legacy family—really recognised the
rivalry. All she remembers of him now is that he killed the previous leader and
caused the war in the first place. She’s deadly afraid of him and for a reason.
He’s an animancer who can invade her mind and extract her memories.
It’s not
easy or safe captivity. Ferron’s attempts to break her mind cause her almost
die several times, the medical leaders of the new regime want to experiment on
her, and Ferron’s wife he neglects wants to kill her. And all the while she is
a captive of her own mind, unable to remember what happened. Until she does.
The second
part takes place in the past, starting five years after the war began. It’s
already devastated Paladia, and while the leadership won’t recognise that they’re
fighting a losing war, some people know more drastic measures are needed.
Helena has spent
the war as a healer. It’s hard, unthankful work, because it requires vivimancy
that she’s found the ability for, much to the horror of her friends, the
current leader of the country and his paladins. She’s desperate for acceptance
and so, when she’s asked to act as a liaison with an enemy who has agreed to
spy on their side, she agrees. The spy turns out to be Ferron, already an
Undying as a reward for killing the previous ruler, and high up in the Necromancer’s army.
For two
years, to the inevitable end of the war, the two meet in secret, both using
each other for information and being used by their own people in return. They
don’t trust each other—Ferron doesn’t trust anyone—but eventually they realise
that they only have one another to rely on. A friendship of sorts forms, a bit
unhealthy and codependent, and then, inevitably, a love story. They make plans
to disappear together, but he can’t really leave, as the Undying are bound to
the Necromancer. And then the war ends, and Helena disappears.
Third part
of the book returns to the present where Helena has to reconcile her memories
of Kaine of the past and the High Reeve of the present, the love story with her
trauma of the captivity. He wants to get her to safety; she won’t leave without
him. There are no allies, only enemies on all sides, and a hunt for the last
remaining Resistance fighter. And the noose is tightening.
This was an
excellent novel: structure, pace, plot, the world, and characters were all perfect. Even though it’s long, there’s nothing unnecessary. The chapters are short and every
scene has a meaning. It’s dark and atmospheric, the war with its horrors come
close even though they’re mostly seen through the aftermath at the hospital—it’s like
watching China Beach or M*A*S*H. Bad things happen to good people, and good people
do really bad things. I’m not triggered by much as a reader, and nothing here
caused me distress, but some readers might find the reality of war and
characters that are both black and important difficult to handle. Pain and
suffering, physical or mental, aren’t dwelled on, or described in nauseating detail
in order to horrify or titillate the reader. They’re simply the realities of
war.
The
narrative is from Helena’s point of view in third person, which distances it a
little—sometimes a good thing when she’s suffering from all sorts of trauma.
She’s an unreliable narrator, especially at the beginning, so the second part
is a discovery into her mind and memories. She does paint a good picture of
Kaine, so we learn a lot about him and what drives him even though there is
nothing from his point of view. The enemies-to-lovers storyline unfolds
organically from the needs and deeds of the characters and not from an overwhelming
attraction the characters can’t help feeling. I really rooted for them, even as
I feared the inevitable, as this isn’t the kind of book where you take the
happy ending for granted.
The only weak
part is the third, though not by much. The enemy remains mostly hidden and is
only seen by proxy, the tension comes from people and deeds the reader isn’t
privy to, and Helena’s traumas reconcile with her memories fairly fast. The
ending is unnecessarily long, and a bit too easy and convenient.
For such a
dark book, this was a surprisingly pleasant read and difficult to put down. I
loved the characters and the ending they earned for themselves. I’m glad I gave
the book a chance. It’ll stay with me for a long time.
White Feathers, Crimson Leaves is set in Rokugan, East-Asia inspired Legend of the
Five Rings game world. I enjoyed Reynolds’ previous tie-in series, Daidoji Shin mysteries, so I was eager to read his return to Rokugan. The book is horror
instead of mystery, with different characters and setting, and while I miss
Daidoji Shin and his investigations in the city of the Rich Frog, I didn’t let
that stop me from enjoying this book.
Wardmaster
Yogo Shuko is in her late thirties, a brusque and straightforward member of
Scorpion clan who has spent all her life banishing ghosts and breaking curses.
With her is her apprentice, Kuni Tansho, a witch hunter in her early twenties.
She’s from the Crab clan and has a different approach to investigations than
her teacher. The women don’t really get along, but they won’t let that stop
them from doing their job.
They’ve
come to the mountains of Unicorn clan, into a backwater village of Red Grove,
where a curse has been killing the people of the lord who has recently taken
over the village. For Shuko, it’s a straightforward case of break the curse and
be on your way. Tansho wants to find out why the curse was cast in the first
place and by whom. While they are fairly sure the oppressed villagers who
somehow escape the curse are responsible, they also sympathise with them. But
the truth turns out to be something completely different.
This was a
fast-paced, no frills, mild horror mystery that relied heavily on Japanese folk
horror stories and creatures. It focused tightly on the case at hand. We don’t
really learn anything about the main characters, both with their point of view
chapters, more than that they’re powerful practitioners, and their inner
workings aren’t important for the story. Neither of them has the charm and wit of
Daidoji Shin and his stalwart bodyguard Kasami, and it took me a while to warm up
to them, but they got there in the end. The setting didn’t have the cultural
richness of Rich Frog, and as such, the remote village could’ve belonged to any
fantasy world. Clan politics and the cultures of Rokugan didn’t feature.
Nevertheless,
I was invested in learning who was behind the curse, and how Shuko would break
it. It had some hair-raising moments, but it wasn’t terribly scary and I wasn’t entirely emotionally invested in the characters and their fates. If I compare it to a similar Five Rings book, The Night Parade of 100 Demons by Marie Brennan, where a priest and aristocrat fight evil spirits in a mountain village, it falls a bit short. Like with
Daidoji Shin mysteries, the ending isn’t so much about justice and bringing the
guilty party to face the law as it is about comeuppance, but it’s satisfying. I don’t know if this
is a stand-alone story or a start of a new series, but I’d read more.
I received
a free copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
The Somewhat Wicked Witch of Brigandale by C. M. Waggoner
I’ve liked
everything by C.M. Waggoner I’ve read. Her books are cozy, worlds are unique, inclusive, and interesting, and the plots are meaningful and not too easy. Cozy doesn’t
mean no stakes or no bad things happening. Everything is simply presented in a low-tension
way. This book was no exception.
Gretsella
has been the witch of reasonable prices in the forest of Brigandale for
decades, dealing in charms and curses—like coughing during classical music
concerts—tending to her poisonous plants and attending her coven of equally
qualified witches. One day, she finds a baby on her doorstep. She knows, as
there are knights ruining her garden, that the boy is special. She takes him in
anyway and names him Bradley. Her witch friends grant him good looks, charm,
kindness and a mean right hook.
Bradley
grows up to be exactly as wished, but he’s not terribly bright. Gretsella loves
him anyway, not that she would be caught dead admitting it. But, as tends to
happen, forest animals tell him he’s the rightful king, and against her wishes,
he sets out to take the throne. He’s successful. Unfortunately, he’s not a very
good king, mostly for being too kind. What is a witch/mother to do but to go to
the king’s castle and set things right, the only way a witch does things—her
way.
This was an
absolutely charming book, well-written and witty. It’s low stakes, low tension,
but not meaningless cozy fantasy, with great characters that have a good heart—even
Gretsella. Waggoner’s characters are never twee, and despite the cozy genre,
they’re not perfectly good with only good things happening to them. Between
chapters there’s another story of another witch, and though the side-steps
break the flow of the story constantly, they’re always short and necessary
additions. The ending is happy and conclusive, with everyone getting what they
want, even if it doesn’t happen exactly the way they imagined it would. It
leaves the reader happy and satisfied with the time spent with the book. I’m
looking forward to reading more books from Waggoner.
I’ve seldom
read Ilona Andrews, but the moment this book hit my radar, I wanted to read it.
It’s in isekai genre, which has been popular in East-Asia for decades, but which has
been making its way to western fantasy only in recent years.
In isekai,
a person from our world is transported to a fantasy world, an alternate reality, game or, like here, into a world of a book the protagonist has been reading. They often
bring something unique from the original world that gives them an edge in the
new world. In this book, the protagonist has an encyclopaedic knowledge of her
favourite book, knows exactly what’s going to happen, and sets out to change
the future.
Maggie has
woken up in a ditch in a strange medieval city without clothes and no idea how she’s ended up there. She’s
had a couple of days to adjust when the book begins, so she’s already figured
out the pertinent: she’s in the world of her favourite book she’s been reading
obsessively for the past decade. She also knows what isekai is and understands that
she’s been transported. She doesn’t remember dying, which is often a
requirement in isekai, but she knows she’s her original self and hasn’t taken
the body and life of an existing character in the book. It’s a cruel and
violent world where her favourite characters are more likely to die than not, and
she knows it’s headed to a violent and bloody upheaval.
She sets
out to survive. She needs money and shelter, and she knows where to find both.
The first requires a robbery which she has no compunctions committing. It leads
to a stunning discovery: she can’t die, hence the series name, Maggie the
Undying. Or rather, she dies and comes back to life a little later unharmed.
The world doesn’t reset when that happens, like often in isekai, and she’s able
to continue with what she’s gained.
Once she
has her basic needs met, she starts making little changes in the lives of her
favourite characters. Little changes lead to large ones and before she knows
it, she’s leading a group of people determined to prevent the bad future from
happening. She utilises the intimate knowledge she’s gained from the point of
view characters, and trades in secrets to win people on her side. It isn’t
smooth sailing, but with some sacrifices—usually her—they get to their goal.
And then it turns out the goal isn’t what they thought, because there are only
two books in the series with the third never published. Maggie doesn’t know how
the story ends.
This was a
great book. It’s told solely from Maggie’s first-person point of view and utilises
the tropes of isekai well. She knows what’s at stake, knows the players, and is
aware that with every change she makes, the future changes beyond her knowledge of
it. She gathers a found family around her, mostly by being nice and helping
them, which in the book’s cruel world is unheard of. Her allies are capable and
loyal, the mysteries are suitably complicated but not impossible, the twists
are good, and bad guys are perfectly evil. The love interest is straight from a
fantasy. The narrative flows well, the pacing is good, and the plot keeps in its
grip. The ending is the worst kind of cliffhanger, and I hope this series won’t
have the fate of Maggie’s favourite book.
My only
gripe is that since Maggie knows she’s in a book, she narrates what she’s
supposed to feel—fear, love, lust—instead of feeling it. It distances the
reader from the emotions, making it difficult to enter into her sentiments. The
romance especially suffers from this. The reader knows why Maggie thinks she
should find him attractive—although she wasn’t attracted to him in the book—but we’re never
shown the attraction and love she feels. There’s no quickening of her pulse, no
flushes of heat, or sweating of her palms when he’s around or kissing her, only analysing narrative. So,
while I root for the pair, I think I might be fine if they never ended up
together. But this isn’t a romance first and foremost, so I can live with that.
These Shattered Spires is the author’s debut novel and it’s wonderfully well-formed
and mature for one. It’s not an easy read and it doesn’t aim to be one. It’s
also not YA, despite the publisher advertising it as such. The main characters may
be in their late teens, but the themes aren’t YA and the characters don’t
behave or think of themselves as people on the cusp of adulthood. They’re
survivors who know they’ll die at any moment. The atmosphere reminds me of Gormenghast, and the world that of Gideon the Ninth.
It’s seldom
that a book stands so firmly on its unique world, but here it’s almost its own
character. Fourspires Castle is the whole world to its residents. It has always existed at
the brink of destruction by a daily apocalypse that has to be stopped with
spells every morning by the four head arcanists that inhabit its four towers: black,
red, green and grey, corresponding with the magic they wield: bone, blood,
botany, and stone. Even with this ceaseless spellcasting, the castle slowly
sinks and rots, disappearing piece by piece, diminishing the world. The rot and
decay of the castle is described vividly, down to smells and tastes.
The fifth
castle at the centre is occupied by the Thaumaturge, the most powerful of the
arcanists. He’s centuries old, and his position is coveted by all the
arcanists. Then the unthinkable happens and he’s assassinated, which triggers a
battle for succession among the arcanists, the Slaughter. It’s a race to the
top of the fifth tower, and as the name suggests, deadly, especially so for the
familiars of the arcanists.
The
familiars are humans trained to wrest, to pull arcania to power the arcanists
spells. It’s incredibly painful for them and wears them out bodily. They’re
treated badly (they’re not allowed to speak, they’re barely fed, and sleep on
floors and filth) and used until they die, usually very young.
The main
point of view characters are familiars of different disciplines. Tarenteeno
(Taro) is the familiar of the bone arcanist; Nixeen (Nixie), the familiar of
the botany arcanist; Elliot, the familiar of a lesser blood arcanist, and
Alis/Alix, a disgraced stone familiar. Taro and Nixie have been plotting an
escape, but the death of the Thaumaturge ruins their plans. The familiars are
instantly marked as participants of the Slaughter and to escape is to die. To
participate is to die too, because the new Thaumaturge will instantly kill all
familiars but their own.
However, Taro
and Nixie learn that the permanent apocalypse of their world isn’t the natural
state of things and that there might be a way to stop it and flee. They can’t
do it alone though, so they talk the other two into taking part. It’s not an
easy alliance or an easy task to pull off, but neither is the Slaughter.
The
relationships of the four are complicated. They’ve all trained at the same time
in the Pit, the academy for familiars. Taro and Nixie used to date, and Taro
still thinks they’re romantically involved. Nixie hates her guts for a
betrayal, but is using Taro to escape. Alis used to be Nixie’s best friend
before Taro showed up, so she hates Taro, but she also hates Nixie for leaving
her. But she loves her too. Elliot is the odd man out, but seems to be coveted
and hated in equal measures by the others for his looks.
The
characters aren’t nice or easy to root for. They’re selfish and brought down by
their harsh life. Elliot is suffering from a curse that makes him especially
irritable, Alis is having a gender crisis, Nixie is filled with hate, and Taro
isn’t entirely sane. They ally and betray each other, sometimes within the same
chapter, and none of them is very likeable. But little by little, reader
becomes attached to them, which isn’t wise when people casually and constantly
die.
This isn’t
an easy book to read. There is pain and suffering inflicted on the main
characters, blood and gore, broken body parts and death. It’s not a splatter
though, the narrative doesn’t dwell on the gory details, or even a grimdark as
such. Suffering is a natural part of the characters’ lives and the narrative
treats it so naturally that the reader doesn’t even blink an eye when a
character cuts into their own flesh to power a spell. Nonetheless, it does make
this a heavy read, and I had to pace myself a lot.
But there is also an undercurrent of hope for something better, an escape that is worth all the pain. This current carried the story against all odds and the harsh reality. Sometimes it paid off, sometimes it plunged the characters even deeper.
A countdown
to the Slaughter at the beginning of every chapter keeps the tension rising as
the four try to break the curse. And then it begins—and turns out to be
something completely different from what everyone believed, as is the end of the
curse. For a first book in a trilogy, the ending is fairly conclusive. It sets the stage for the next book, but the story can be left here as well. I’d read
more though.
I received
a free copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Entwined is
set in a secondary world that resembles the early 20th century with its
technology, with two kinds of people: humans and Entwined, people genetically
capable of magic who aren’t considered human. The Entwined used to rule Harrow
where the events take place, but after a revolution of sorts, humans are now in
charge and it means trouble for the Entwined that humans hate. Only the Entwined bound
to the Guild can operate freely. But the Guild is a gilded cage that’s not for
everyone.
Ottilie’s
boss has unearthed an artefact a client wants, which should bring in so much
money that Ottilie can finally leave. But before the transaction is complete,
both the artefact and her boss disappear. The client wants the artefact back
and since Ottilie is the only one left, she’s forced to find it. She has a good
notion who took it: her sister Pretoria, who has also left the Guild, and become
a thief.
The
artefact isn’t the only thing bringing Ottilie trouble. Humans are turning
against the Entwined and it’s getting more difficult to hide what she is. Human
zealots and Entwined terrorists are clashing and creating political upheaval, it
could be that the artefact she has to find is a key to destroying the Entwined
for good, and man she’s interested in might be a terrorist. On top of this, her other sister shows up too, and she wants to take
Ottilie back to the Guild. Things soon get out of hands and Ottilie finds
herself in the middle of events she has no way out of.
This was an
interesting first book in a duology. The magic powered by different lights
(sun, moon, twilight etc.) was unique, and the political situation was complex.
It was a bit too complex, to be honest, and I found it confusing a lot of time.
The narrative was rich and pulled the reader into the world and the magic effortlessly.
The story was a bit slow though, and not as engaging as the events would merit.
The narrative
is from Ottilie’s POV. She’s a good character with a lot of baggage, but not as
compelling as, for example, Hessa with her rage in Long’s Four Pillars series.
I couldn’t quite fathom why she’d come to Harrow where she knew she’d be
trapped and why she hadn’t left sooner, as she had the money for it. Many of
the events just happened to her and she accepted everything. Her waffling
between suitors was very characteristic. It wasn’t until the end that she took
a stance and even then, others made the decisions. The side characters,
especially the sisters, had good backstories too, but the reader didn’t have
similar insight into them as Ottilie, though the epilogue gave a good glimpse.
The book
ends at a natural turning point, setting the stage for the second book. Good
though this was, the storyline I was most interested in concluded here and
nothing particularly compels me to read more. I’m not sure I’ll read the
conclusion.
I received a
free copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
This is a
queer YA retelling of Sandra Bullock-Bill Pullman movie While You Were Sleeping
from 1995, which I loved back in the day, but which probably isn’t well known
among the YA target (unless they’re middle-aged women like me.) Knowing
the plot, I read this mostly to find out how or if the story would differ from the
original. There weren’t any surprises, but the story worked well.
The only
person who doesn’t believe Kenzie is Zach, 17, Hayden’s equally gorgeous
brother. He and Kenzie end up spending time together, and to their horror,
Kenzie realises they’re falling for Zach. But instead of coming clean, they
double down on the lie. All sorts of misunderstandings and missed opportunities
to tell the truth take place, until Hayden wakes up, bringing an end to the lie.
This was a cute,
feelgood queer romance, but it never rose to the level of the themes it
introduced: gender identity, queerness, or mental health. All characters were
understanding and sympathetic, no one was judgemental some misgendering
notwithstanding, and no bad things happened. Kenzie’s mother roused from her
depression to show some warmth, and even clearing up the lie went without
complications. The ending was a bit abrupt, but conclusive and good.
Kenzie was
a good character, with a lot going on in their life. I don’t know how well they
represented an NB person, and they never reflect on their gender identity. We
get more about them being a witch. Mostly they came across as a very typical YA
heroine with their inner monologue—all their behaviour or self-expression was
fairly feminine—or a Twinkie gay man. The narrative was from Kenzie’s POV, so
side characters, Zach included, weren’t terribly well fleshed out. The bestie
existed to show sympathy and support. Zach and Hayden’s parents were inspired
by Bullock and Pullman. The witchy stuff was also inspired by Bullock’s Practical Magic (1998).
The plot
followed the beats of the original. There was no conflict beyond the lie, so
the mid-part of the book felt a bit long with filler events where Kenzie and
Zach got to know each other. For a YA novel, school didn’t feature except for a
couple of mentions, which was both refreshing and odd. All in all, this was an easy
read that paid nice homage to the original without rising above it or
introducing anything new.
I received
a free copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
Agnes Aubert’s Mystical Cat Shelter by Heather Fawcett
I really
liked Fawcett’s Emily Wilde series, so I was eager to read Agnes Aubert’s Mystical Cat Shelter. It’s set in 1920s Montreal, a location that isn’t exactly
overused in fantasy, in a world where a handful of people have ability for
magic. Magicians aren’t outlawed, but they’re not entirely tolerated, because
they’re careless with their magic, hurting people for fun. And none are more
reviled than Havelock Renard, the Witch King, who has almost ended the world
with his spell three years earlier.
Agnes
Aubert is in her mid-thirties, a widow and an owner of a cat shelter in a town
where people don’t really understand the need to shelter cats. A random magic
battle on the street outside her shop has left it inhabitable, and she’s searching
for a new place before winter comes. Unfortunately, the potential landlords all
balk when they hear about the cats.
Out of
options, she rents a shop everyone tells her she should stay away from. Even
she knows it, sensing something odd about the place, but she’s been
inexplicably drawn to it. Everything goes well at first, even if odd people she
knows are magicians show up regularly and disappear into the back room where
she’s been instructed not to explore.
This was a
delightful cozy fantasy. In its centre are two sets of siblings with very
different dynamics. Agnes has a loving, supporting sister Élise, who goes to
battles with her on all fronts. Havelock has a more complicated relationship
with his sister who has turned maniac with power. He knows he needs to defeat
her, but all he sees is the person who used to take care of him. Magical system is interesting and I’d love to explore the origin world more. And always,
everywhere, there are cats getting into places they shouldn’t be, with proper
roles and characters.
There’s
also a romance of sorts. Agnes is still healing from losing her husband, though
it’s been long enough that’s she’s willing to consider a new love. Havelock isn’t
really a people person—or not entirely a person anymore, as magic eats away
people—so romance is a mystery to him. In the end, it really doesn’t go
anywhere, so I hope there’s a follow-up book. The ending is open enough on that
front.
However, the
book is a bit small in scope, as befits a cozy fantasy. Montreal barely
features except in street names that are in French (though I don’t know if they’re
real streets) and the fact that people speak French and occasionally English
both. The historical setting doesn’t entirely come alive, as everything basically
takes place in one location. Side characters seldom have direct dialogue, so
they seem like props. A lot seems to be happening on the background that
affects the plot—Élise’s husband is a politician fighting for re-election;
mages are causing havoc; the police are hunting magicians—but they solve
themselves rather easily. Agnes is more concerned about her cats, which stalls
the plot in the middle.
But in the end, it’s human ingenuity that wins the day,
the ending is conclusive and good, and though the romance didn’t really happen,
it leaves Agnes and Havelock in a good place. All cats found homes. I’d read
more.
Jitterbug is set in near future of our
solar system that’s been drastically altered. All the outer planets have
vanished one by one by invisible forces, with Mars being currently devoured. It’s
only a matter of time before the Earth is gone. In their place has appeared a
ring of artificial planetoids shaped like wedges of orange that curve towards
the sun with nothing on the backside towards the outer space. The humanity has
inhabited the insides of these planetoids.
Criminals, too, like to hide in the
vastness of these new habitats, and to capture them, a system of bounty hunters
has emerged. Copernicus Brown and his three-person crew (two women and a man) are
bounty hunters on Jitterbug, a former freight ship he has inherited from his
father. A distress call brings them to a scene of a pirate attack, from which
they save a woman, Amber Roth. Things go sideways from there.
Roth is
carrying a message that people are willing to kill for. It brings the crew to
the attention of a leading politician, and together, they go to the outside of
the spheres to find the origin of the message—only to learn that the humanity
is about to come under attack by alien forces. Are they the same who created
the sphere in the first place or is something else going on? Whatever it is, Jitterbug and her crew has to deal with it and fast.
This was a
competent sci-fi adventure, a small-scale space opera. Told by four first-person
point of view characters, one of which is Jitterbug herself, it brings the humanity to the brink of extinction and
offers an out of space and time solution to it. It wasn’t entirely engaging though.
It was mostly narrated to the reader, and apart from the first chapters, the first-person
narrators didn’t manage to bring the reader in the story with them. The
intimacy of first-person wasn’t there, and the reader didn’t learn anything
about the characters except what was necessary for the scene. The inevitable
romance especially suffered from this, when neither narrator even hinted at
romantic feelings before it was already a reality.
The ending
twisted this readers brain, but I’m not going to question the time-bending
solution. It brings the story to a full circle, the prologue finally getting an
explanation in the epilogue. It’s a satisfying ending for this standalone
story. No need for more.
I received a
free copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
The Library of Amorlin starts The Age of Beasts fantasy, and it was one of my anticipated
reads for the start of the year. The beginning was promising, but
unfortunately, the book didn’t deliver.
The setting
is interesting. A world of several kingdoms around a neutral zone of a magical
library that bends time and space within its limits. The library is in charge
of protecting magical beasts and mediating between kingdoms. Unfortunately, Kalthos, one
of the kingdoms, is ruled by a religion that sees the beasts as embodiments of
sins, and systematically destroys them. As beasts die, magic becomes more
unpredictable and the natural order of things begin to unravel. So, Kalthos and the library are at direct odds.
The premise is good too. Kasira, in her
late twenties, is a con-artist who grew up on the streets of Kalthos until she
was captured. She was held imprisoned in inhuman conditions for four years,
after which the sentence was commuted to hunting and killing beasts as part of
elite killing units, which she’s been doing for the past three years. And then
she’s offered a chance for freedom by Vera, the Kalthos ambassador to Amorlin:
con her way into the library and bring it under Kalthos’s rule. She has three months. Fail
and it’s back to prison.
Kasira sets out to convince the librarian,
Allaster, that she’s not a Kalthos spy. He doesn’t believe her. He’s right. She
pulls off a couple of cons and manages to change his mind. And then a twist
happens, which changes things for Kasira, sort of but not. And then another
twist, upping the stakes but not. And then the final con that
brings the book to a satisfying conclusion with no cliffhanger ending.
Technically, this all should’ve made for an
interesting book. Problem is, there’s no plot. There are events that spring out
of nowhere and end as fast, with no aftermath or consequences. The events
include cons that Kasira pulls, but how she does them isn’t shown on the page.
What readers see is her reading books, tending to beasts, and training with
Allaster. The plot that affects them both happens elsewhere. There is a war
brewing and a possible coup taking place in Kalthos, on top of the battle for
the library, and on the background, Vera is pulling strings.
The final continues the same. The reader is
shown one thing, only to learn that Kasira has pulled something on the
background. On the surface, it’s interesting, but not as interesting as following
her along it would’ve been. The end result is satisfying and clever, but it
leaves the reader cold.
From the reader’s point of view, Kasira has
no agency in her own story. There are the cons, but the reader isn’t shown them,
and the small wins she creates are made void by an outside influence that
always trumps her efforts, forcing her to react instead of being in charge. We’re
only seemingly following Kasira’s story, but what we get is Vera’s efforts on
the background.
When the protagonist is a con-artist, I
expect to be shown how they plan the cons, and whether they can pull them off,
especially since some here seemed a bit impossible. I don’t want a smug
admission after the fact that “I made this happen,” without being shown—or
even told—how. The surprise factor isn’t interesting. Kasira comes off as
useless, boring and smug on the page. That she makes things work in the end is
fine, but doesn’t feel like a win when we’ve not seen her do it.
Allastair, who also has point of view chapters,
isn’t any better. He’s grabbling with a magical condition that already killed
his predecessor. He’s 130 years old and he still hasn’t found the solution. All
we ever see him doing, when he’s not mistrusting Kasira, is reading. He comes
off as waffling and useless. The same goes with the few side characters. They
all have issues on the background that affect how they act, with some surprises,
but again, it’s not shown on the page.
Without a plot, the author is forced to use
the out of the blue twists to make the story more interesting. All it would’ve
taken is to give the main characters something proactive to do and show it to
the reader. Anything that would take the reader along the ride, anticipate and
fear with them. The events of the ending especially suffered from this. Kasira
is clever, but we get nothing but the aftermath. There wasn’t even a proper
romance yet to make things exciting.
All this is to say that this was a boring
book. There’s no reason to read it; just skip to the end. It took me ages to
finish, and that’s not including the couple of days after the second twist around
60% mark when I stopped reading completely. I almost didn’t pick it up again,
but forced myself to finish. The ending was more conclusive than I expected, and
it was good enough to leave the story here.
I received a free copy from NetGalley in
exchange for an honest review.
Apparently, Sir Cameron Needs to Die by Greer Stothers
Apparently, Sir Cameron Needs to Die is a cozy fantasy, of sorts. In a world
not our own, or maybe it is, mad sorcerer Merulo—not called mad yet—declares in
front of the entire court that he’s going to kill the god and put an end to
magic. Forty years later, he’s still at it, only now he’s also at war with the church,
which obviously doesn’t want their god to be killed.
The war isn’t
going well for the church, but the Elder comes up with a prophecy for which she
sacrificed the heart of last dragon, a great source of magic in a world where
magic isn’t unlimited. Sir Cameron, a knight of church, needs to be killed by a
specific method at a specific spot to bring the downfall of Merulo.
Cameron has
coasted being a knight by avoiding battles when possible. His greatest fear is
dying, which is very probable when fighting the sorcerer. So, when he learns about
the prophecy, he doesn’t choose a noble self-sacrifice like the church assumes,
but flees. The only place he can flee to is Merulo.
The
sorcerer isn’t happy that he’s there, but since Cameron not dying is in his
interests, he takes him in. Thing is, the prophecy is very specific and Cameron
needs to die as he is, a beautiful blond man. Transforming him into a vulture
isn’t a problem, then. Merulo prefers him being a vulture even, because Cameron
has a very specific bodily reaction to being threatened and intimidated.
Cameron doesn’t mind being a vulture as such, but having a human body would be
better, so he sets out to cajole Merulo, until he has his body back, by way of
being turned a woman.
At this
point, the story had been a fairly amusing romp of Cameron’s attempts to
survive by seducing Merulo. The young man is conceited and a bit obtuse, but
good-natured and willing to help Merulo, even though he doesn’t understand Merulo’s
need to kill the god when he’ll lose not only his magic but probably his life
too. However, the joke was growing stale and it wasn’t even mid-point yet. Not
even the attempts of Cameron’s former elf squire Glenda to hunt Cameron to kill
him personally amused.
I was ready
to put the book down, but then a couple of twists in short succession switched
the story to a new gear. The tone changed too from a sex comedy to more mellow
search for connection and family. Merulo gets help in his endeavour, and after
forty years, he’s finally ready to kill the god and change the world forever. Cameron
isn’t happy about it, because he’s learned to love the cantankerous old
sorcerer and doesn’t want him to die, but since that’s what Merulo wants, he’ll
be there to the end.
And then
there was another twist, which quite frankly didn’t work very well. There had
been many hints, but it completely switched the tone for the rest of the book
from a secondary world fantasy to something opposite. The book should’ve ended
before that; it would’ve been a good ending. With the twist, the book would’ve
needed much more story than we got to make it work. The epilogue is fairly open
ended though, so maybe there will be a sequel exploring what comes after. I’d
definitely want to know how the world will fare, and have answers to a few
questions that were ignored, like Glenda’s lack of emotions, and why Cameron’s
father hated him, because it wasn’t solely for being gay. And what happened to
the chancellor?
The story
had potential, but it was much too long for the plot. The world felt constantly off,
but that was deliberate, considering its origins—which also turned out to be a
small let-down. Cameron was a fun
character and easy to root for despite being conceited—and he had an upsetting
awakening regarding that. Merulo stayed true to his character throughout even
after learning to love too. Glenda’s POV chapters promised more than they gave
and, in the end, she was pushed aside for another character. I’m especially
disappointed in the latter, a half-dragon witch. The way she was presented gave to understand she
would have a compassionate impact on the characters.
The story had
its fun moments, but never more than a chuckle. Cameron pestering Merulo for
sex was constant, but when the other finally gave in, the scenes ended and were
never mentioned again. Not even when Cameron was a woman to compare matters.
There were hints about Cameron’s preferred gender, but nothing was made of that
either, even though he got to experience being woman, only to want to be a man
again. The pace was fast and light-hearted almost throughout. Chapter headings
were fun and worth reading, but they too often promised insights that were
never shown on the page.
All in all,
this is a difficult book to rate. I’m dithering between three and four stars,
but since it was well-written, the author managed to bring the rather
impossible story to a satisfying end, the characters were good, and the twists interesting,
I will give it four stars.
I received
a free copy from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.
After the Disabled God of War Became my Concubine vol. 1 by Liu Gou Hua
Continuing
with my streak of most recent danmei publications in English. Liu Gou Hua is also
a new author to me and they turned out to be a very good writer. The narrative
flows without repetition and the plot seems to be actually leading somewhere.
After the Disabled God of War Became My Concubine is a transmigration danmei novel with a
historical setting. History professor, Jiang Suizhou, has just finished
rebuking a thesis by his student that seems to be based on imagination, only to
find himself transported to a world that is exactly like the thesis described.
He’s Prince of Jing, whom history doesn’t know much about, as he was a frail,
chronically ill person who died young. His older brother, Jiang Shunheng, is an
emperor in exile, and the last emperor of Jing dynasty. And Prince of Jing is
just about to take a captured and tortured enemy general, Huo Wujiu, as his
concubine, forced by the emperor to humiliate Prince of Jing and Huo Wujiu
both.
Having studied
the era for years, Jiang Suizhou is well-versed in who is who and how things
work, but now his most important guideline is the thesis, which is based on the marriage that history knows nothing about. And according to it, Prince of
Jing will die in three years at the hands of General Huo as a retaliation for
the suffering in his household.
Jiang
Suizhou’s objective is clear: avoid dying. He needs to treat Huo Wujiu, now
Madame Huo, so well the general won’t want to kill him. That’s easier said than
done. Prince of Jing has a reputation of a cruel man and compassion is out of
character. The emperor is a foolish brute controlled by his uncle and enjoys
nothing more than tormenting Prince of Jing and Huo Wujiu both. Jiang Suizhou
knows that the empire will fall in three years when Huo Wujiu returns to north,
but he can’t just hide and wait it out. But he’s almost powerless in the court
and every little thing he tries leads to other people suffering.
On the home
front, he needs to help Huo Wujiu heal from the torture without rousing
suspicions. Outwardly, Madame Huo doesn’t seem to warm up to the prince, but
the reader knows he’s taken an unexpected view of the frail prince and thinks
he’s in need of protecting. And that has made him regard the prince’s two male
concubines with hostility. He’s jealous even, when the prince spends many
nights with them. Little does he know that the concubines are Prince of Jing’s
advisors. The volume ends with a tiny cliffhanger of them giving advice that
will likely infuriate Huo Wujiu and wipe away the goodwill Jiang Suizhou has
managed to build.
This was a
very good start for the story. It was a bit slow at first, and the pace didn’t
really pick up much, but there was nothing unnecessary, the court intrigue was
good, and everything happened in a logical order. Jiang Suizhou was a good
character in a tight spot balancing between the emperor’s wrath and Huo Wujiu.
The latter didn’t have a large role in the first volume, but he managed to make
a difference in Jiang Suizhou’s life already. Despite Huo Wujiu’s budding
jealousy, the romance didn’t really go anywhere yet, but it has a good
foundation here. Prince of Jing’s head eunuch, Meng Qianshan, was a good
comical addition with his constant misunderstandings and good-natured meddling.
I think there
might be revelations in the future about a deeper connection between the past
and the future. Jiang Suizhou looks exactly like Prince of Jing, he shares family
name with the emperor, and Prince of Jing’s real name wasn’t revealed. Jiang
Suizhou doesn’t know it, as it’s one of the things archives never mention. I’m
looking forward to reading more to see where all this leads to.
The Villain's White Halo by Hao Da Juan Wei Sheng Zhi
This is a
new Chinese BL author to me, and there doesn’t seem to be other books by them
translated to English yet. The Villain’s White Halo is a transmigration novel
and takes place in a historical fantasy cultivation world with its own
geography and timelines of hundreds of thousands of years, so not a secondary
earth.
The Villain
emerges as a soul into a Rebirth Company of the in-between space, a business that
caters to the needs of souls that want to transmigrate or reborn. The Villain
has been transmigrating for so long that he doesn’t remember his original name
or world, but in all of them he’s been a two-bit background henchman of the
main villain, dying after a couple of lines, only to transmigrate again. This
time, he wants to be the final boss.
The
employee at the company is eager to help and sells The Villain an ultimate
final boss packet and a fiend halo that activates at certain triggers, like
glaring or saying “I was never good to begin with,” and other villainy lines.
The Villain gets to choose the world, but then he’s sucked into it so fast that
he forgets the halo. The employee throws one after him, only to realise he sent
the wrong one. Unfortunately, the world seals before he can correct the
mistake.
The Villain
emerges as Yin Biyue, a 19-year-old cultivator. Turns out, he’s in a jail for
trying to kill Luo Mingchuan, a fellow cultivator a few years older, and the
protagonist for whom The Villain chose this world in the first place. Things
look bad for Yin Biyue, but the fiend halo, which is in fact the opposite,
though still activated by the villainy triggers, comes to a help, and makes Luo
Mingchuan take the blame for the incident. Both go free.
The
beginning is a bit confusing, and rather slow. The pace doesn’t pick up much
from there, but the story becomes more straightforward and fairly interesting.
Yin Biyue settles into his new life as a cultivator. Thanks to all his previous
lives, he knows what that entails, and he has a soul much stronger than the OG,
so cultivation isn’t a problem for him. His sword is. It won’t recognise his qi
energy, a huge handicap for a cultivator and a potential for a disaster,
because other cultivators might find out he’s not the original Yin Biyue.
The story
leads Yin Biyue, a fellow disciple Duan Chongxuan, who has secrets of his own,
and Luo Mingchuan to a cultivation tournament. The plot of the first volume is
about the journey there and the tournament, which doesn’t end before the first
volume does. There are small conflicts every now and then, but nothing that the
protagonist couldn’t overcome.
Yin Biyue is a good and interesting character, but he isn’t much of a villain. The OG was filled with hate, which may have led to him
trying to kill Luo Mingchuan, but it doesn’t affect Yin Biyue. But because he’s
decided to be a villain, that’s what he sees himself as, but the malfunctioning
halo complicates things. At first, he decides that the storyline is the villain
befriending the hero, only to backstab him, but as the story progresses, he
becomes more and more aware that he might not want to be a villain anymore. And
on the side, his friendship with Luo Mingchuan starts to turn into something
more.
Despite the
rather straightforward storyline, it’s not boring. The author has a great way
to describe cultivation process from within, and make fight scenes lively and like
the reader is part of it. The tone is fairly cozy and the plot low-key, and not
very emotional. Scenes at the Rebirth Company make it a little different from
other stories, and I kept waiting for them to intervene with the real halo.
Maybe that’ll happen later. This wasn’t the most exciting danmei, but I’m
interested in reading more.
