AN EDUCATION IN MALICE, by S.T. Gibson

I received this novel from Orbit Books through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review. My thanks to both of them for this opportunity.

After the mild disappointment suffered from S.T. Gibson’s other new novel, Evocation, I had high hopes that An Education in Malice would fare as well for me as the author’s debut novel, A Dowry of Blood, and that the return to the theme of vampirism would re-create the lyrical writing that thad captivated me completely in that first book. But sadly that was not the case: I will have to add my disappointed review to the ones some of my fellow bloggers posted in the past few days….

The story, in a nutshell: Laura Sheridan arrives at the prestigious Saint Perpetua college to further her poetry studies under the tutelage of renowned professor De Lafontaine and she finds herself almost immediately put in competition with student Carmilla, who is clearly the teacher’s favorite. De Lafontaine, however, hides a dark secret and soon enough Laura will find herself enmeshed in a competitive triangle mixing academic learning and dark passions with unexpected consequences.

There is nothing that saddens me more than failed expectations, particularly where a review book I expressly requested is concerned, and after the amazing discovery that was A Dowry of Blood those expectations were quite high, but this book – like the other 2024 offering of the author, Evocation – did not stand the comparison with S.T. Gibson’s debut, a fact that made me wonder if the pressure of producing not one but two novels in the same year did not weigh too heavily on the author’s narrative powers. The novel is hailed as “sumptuous and addictive” but I would hesitate to use those terms because the prose, although still very close to the style used in Dowry, is certainly moodily descriptive but often fails in the dialogues that at times feel contrived, and rarely manage to convey any emotional layering from the characters.

As for the characters themselves, the relationship between Laura and Carmilla feels hurried, moving from hostile rivalry to insta-lust in too short a time to be truly believable: the novel unfolds by switching between the two girls’ POV, but their “voices” are too similar to offer any real difference between them, to the point that I often had to backtrack to the chapter’s beginning to confirm which one of them was relaying the events.  The third point of the improbable “triangle”, that of professor De Lafontaine, constantly wavers between that of the oppressive adult who wields her power to abusive levels and that of the almost-mothering figure who still does not balk at taking advantage of her young charges.  The revelation about the professor’s true nature as a vampire, and the impact it has on Carmilla directly and indirectly on Laura, is one that required a huge suspension of disbelief from me, because Laura’s almost passive acceptance of a situation that should have seen her run screaming for the hills is quite absurd.

My list of grievances could still run for a little while, but I see no reason to keep berating a story that seems to have captivated many other readers: clearly I’m not the intended audience for this book and I probably set the bar too high by expecting another compelling story as Dowry of Blood.  Maybe someday in the future that will happen again….

My Rating:

EVOCATION (The Summoner’s Circle #1), by S.T. Gibson

I received this novel from Angry Robot Books through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review: my thanks to both of them for this opportunity.

When last year I read S.T. Gibson A Dowry of Blood I was swept away by its unusual story and equally unusual narrative style, so that when Evocation was announced I was more than eager to sample this author’s new work.

David is the latest in a long line of famed magic wielders; as such he’s part of the “aristocracy” in the Boston magical scene: rich, handsome and successful in both his occult and mundane activities, he has everything one might desire – that is, until one day he realizes he’s the one who will have to pay the price for a demonic deal underwritten by one of his ancestors. Frantic to escape the fate that’s in store for him according to the terms of the deal, he has no other choice but to seek the help of another conjurer, his ex boyfriend Rhys, provided of course that they are able to mend the rift that brought to their violent breakup, and that David can overcome the strong objections of Moira, Rhys’ wife and a powerful medium, who can barely tolerate him.

As the three of them meet over the course of several days, trying to get to the source of what ails David, who suffers both physically and mentally from the demon’s onslaught, David’s jaunty façade begins to crumble, revealing many of his insecurities and past wounds, and the feelings between him and Rhys start to surface again, while Moira discovers that she can appreciate David’s company and starts building a strong bond of friendship with him.  Their complex interactions also dovetail with some important changes in the Boston magical scene, while the pressure from the demon becomes almost unbearable and David’s life hangs in the balance….

I must confess that I had quite different expectations for this story: first and foremost, the synopsis hinted at a harrowing battle against powerful demonic forces, and at a deeper look into the influence of magic on our modern society, which this book presents as something quite natural. Unfortunately these elements are kept to the sidelines and the major focus of the novel is on the personal exchanges between David, Rhys and Moira and their slow journey toward a polyamorous relationship: granted, this latter element proved to be interesting, thanks to the exploration of the various dynamics of such a complex liaison and to the painful history of two of the concerned parties, but from my point of view it ended up taking the lion’s share of the narrative space, shunting the encroaching demonic danger to a corner, so that its weight on the characters and its resolution felt more like an afterthought than an integral part of the story. 

And then there is the tone of the narrative itself, which is quite different from the opulent, almost lyrical writing I enjoyed in A Dowry of Blood: the story’s setting of course required a more modern form of expression, but I could not avoid constantly comparing its… mundane feel with the rich, beautiful writing that so captivated me in S.T. Gibson’s previous novel, so that I have to sadly admit that the overall feeling I was left with at the end of the book was that of wistful disappointment.

My hope, since this is the first in a series, is that the next books might recapture that special quality and offer a closer look into the layers of magic present in this vision of our modern world…

My Rating:

YOU LET ME IN, by Camilla Bruce

My third foray into Camilla Bruce’s works proved to be quite different from the previous  experiences, which were novels based on historical figures of serial killers on which the author had construed a partly imagined story.  You Let Me In is quite different instead, being based on totally fictional characters, and in particular that of Cassie Tipp, a successful novelist with an obscure past: the book starts a year after her mysterious disappearance, as her niece Penelope and nephew Janus visit their aunt’s home with the instruction to read her last manuscript, at the end of which they will find the key to retrieve Cassie’s considerable inheritance.

The manuscript is addressed directly to Penelope and Janus and tells Cassie’s life-story, or at least the woman’s version of it, since it becomes apparent after a while that she might be an unreliable narrator: always something of an outsider in her own family, Cassandra grew up isolated from her judgmental mother and picture perfect younger sister, from an indifferent father and absentee brother; her only constant companion was Pepper Man, a creature only she could see and who created a predatory relationship with her, drinking Cassie’s blood like a vampire. 

Later on, as the relationship between Cassie and Pepper Man moves toward sexual intimacy, he introduces her to his faerie domain, peopled by weird and terrifying creatures in whose company Cassie feels more at ease than with true human beings.  Even her courtship and marriage with a local boy is tampered with by the intrusion of these otherworldly beings, to the point that his gruesome death lays heavy shadows on Cassie who is suspected of his murder.  And that’s not the only dubious occurrence, because a few years later Cassie’s father and brother die in what looks like a murder-suicide, but also presents some bizarre details that once again shine some unwelcome light on her person.

All of the above, of course, comes from Cassie’s perspective, because readers are also made aware of a psychiatrist’s evaluation which labels her outlandish stories as a way to cope with domestic abuse, processing this trauma through the lens of the fantasies that to Cassie have become a world within the real one – a version that Cassie constantly repudiates as a flight of fancy on the doctor’s part. And here stands the true mystery of this story, because both versions could be true, and both versions speak of a life-long ordeal in which the victim, Cassie, has found a way to structure her suffering into a creation where, in the end, she accepts everything as “normal” and even finds a modicum of happiness, twisted as it might be: the sections where she speaks of her relationship with Pepper Man as a loving one, where she says that he does indeed love her, are among the more chillingly disturbing of the whole book.

That Cassie is a victim, and has been for most of her life, is without doubt, because no matter what version of the story you believe – that of the blood-sucking Pepper Man and his  cadre of supernatural beings, or that of the dysfunctional family in which she was always an outsider and the victim of abuse, physical and verbal – it could be argued that she shows definite symptoms of Stockholm’s Syndrome and of a coping mechanism that makes her accept the horrors of such a life as something “normal”, and in some instance even acceptable.  The distinction between what’s real and what’s imagined is made even more difficult, if not impossible, by a total lack of an outside point of view: every detail, every occurrence is always mediated through Cassie’s perspective, even Dr. Martin’s evaluation, so that the readers find themselves in the impossibility to verify the facts as presented.

No matter what side of the story one might believe in, Cassie’s journey remains a fascinatingly compelling one: Camilla Bruce has a way of drawing her readers in and keep them grimly fascinated as they try to perceive the truth of the situation which must lie between the line, but remains elusive throughout the whole length of the book.  Even the end manages to keep the mystery alive because the final surprise that Cassie springs on her heirs is one that leaves the door open to interpretation, shrouding it in one of those faerie arrangements that showcase the cruelly duplicitous nature of those creatures – provided that they exist, of course…

It was a final twist I did not expect and that left me both shocked and admiring of the subtle tapestry that the author has woven with this story, one that I find difficult to forget.

My Rating:

LONE WOMEN, by Victor LaValle

We meet Adelaide Henry as she’s getting ready to leave her parents’ farm, but we quickly understand that there is something ominous in her departure, because she’s pouring gasoline all over the house, and she looks on the lifeless forms of her parents before setting it all ablaze.  As a story start, it’s indeed one of the most intriguing I ever encountered, particularly when the detail of a heavy trunk is presented: it’s immediately clear that there is something important attached to that trunk, even more so when we see Adelaide constantly checking its lock, afraid that someone might be curious about its contents.

Leaving her native California for the endlessly open spaces of Montana, Adelaide reaches the claim she’s been granted by the government: if, in the next three years, she will manage to make it fruitful, it will be hers forever. But the life of a homesteader is a harsh one, and Adelaide has to deal with the added difficulties of being a lone woman and of being black in a place where she stands out very conspicuously – and then there’s the mystery of the trunk, from which at times come strange noises.   As she makes a few tentative friendships, Adelaide also suffers the consequences of the trunk’s secret, a burden that her family has borne for a long time and one that has now come into the open with unpredictable, bloody consequences that might destroy what little foothold she started to get into the community…

I have to admit being of two minds about this book: the premise and the first part of the story proved to be very intriguing and I kept on reading propelled by the dual narrative threads of Adelaide’s battle with the hardships of her new life and of the horror kept at bay by the trunk’s lock. But after a while the novel’s fabric seemed to unravel somewhat, what with the addition of new characters and storylines that were not sufficiently explored and by the author’s choice of revealing the nature of the trunk’s contents far too soon.  There is a great deal of foreboding attached to the trunk’s secret, particularly when we see Adelaide quite frantic in her constant checks about the lock’s integrity, and early on there seems to be a frightening connection between an apparent manumission of that lock and the disappearance of a group of people, particularly because Adelaide feels profoundly guilty about something she seems to have no control over. 

My confusion increased when the themes of the homesteading, with all the added difficulties that a woman alone would encounter in such a situation, and of Adelaide’s integration into the community, were downplayed in favor of a few apparently disconnected scenes about town-hall events and dance meetings that felt more like distractions that integral parts of the story. Moreover, the thread about a family of robber/murderers, that should have served to raise the stakes, only added to my overall disorientation.  And finally, learning about the horror held in check by the trunk proved a little anticlimactic, in part because the reveal happened too soon and in part because the disclosure about the being’s nature, which should have been the most intriguing mystery of the whole story, was offered with very little explanation.

I was captivated by Adelaide’s character development, her very human feelings of rebellion about the burden placed on her shoulders by family obligations – a burden often stressed by the recollection of her mother’s catchphrase about women being “mules” – and I could understand her dual feelings of relief and guilt when that burden seems to have been lifted, but on the other hand I wanted to see more of her efforts at homesteading and survival in a land whose isolation and harsh climate could prove quite deadly to its inhabitants. Unfortunately there was precious little of this, and I felt somewhat cheated by the absence of what should have been one of the main themes of this novel.

Other characters are sadly underdeveloped and a few of them behave in ways I could not understand; there are a few plot holes in this story: the town’s leading lady who turns from active philanthropist to lynching mob’s leader at the drop of a hat; the woman consumed by the need to find her father’s grave, who seems to have forgotten the quest by the book’s end; the mother who dresses her daughter as a boy and treats her accordingly, with no explanation about the underlying reason, and so forth.   

It saddens me when a good premise seems to be squandered in such a way, since Lone Women felt to me like a missed opportunity. I don’t regret having read it, but in the end it was not the book for me.

My Rating:

SWORDHEART, by T. Kingfisher

Having by now read a few books by T. Kingfisher, I have come to the conclusion that this author would never disappoint me, no matter which of her novels I pick up.  Swordheart is set in the same background as my previous read, Paladin’s Grace, so that I found some familiar details and even a familiar “face” from that book, and what’s more, a passage in this book led me to learn about a duology – The Clocktaur War – that shares some of those same elements, so that will probably be one of my next picks from T. Kingfisher.

Swordheart’s protagonist is Halla, a mid-thirties respectable widow who in the past few years took care of a grumpy relative: at his death she discovers that Uncle Silas indicated her as his heir, to her enormous surprise and to the anger of other relatives, particularly unpleasant Aunt Malva and her son Cousin Alver, a mother-dominated individual who wants to marry Halla to set his clammy hands on her inheritance.  At the woman’s refusal to acquiesce, the two lock her in her room and after a few days poor Halla starts to contemplate suicide as a means of escape: taking a sword – part of the extensive collection of artifacts left by Uncle Silas – from its wall mount, she intends to fall on it, but as soon as she unsheathes it, a man appears in a flash of blue light. It’s Sarkis, a warrior who has been magically trapped into the sword as a punishment, forever forced to obey and protect the wielder of the sword – in this case bewildered Halla. 

Sarkis helps Halla to escape her greedy relatives’ clutches and the two embark on an eventful journey toward the city of Archon’s Glory and the Temple of the Rat, whose skilled lawyers might help her to settle the inheritance issue. The return journey, together with priest-lawyer Zale and the gnole cart driver Brindle will be just as eventful and the controversy with Halla’s relatives will prove to be not so easily resolved, but with such tenacious allies, and a good measure of ingenuity, our widow grows in confidence and courage and also finds that her plans for the future might turn out to be even better than she imagined…

Not for the first time I find that T. Kingfisher is one of those rare authors who manage to insert a very enjoyable romantic angle in their stories, which is quite surprising, since I tend to avoid romance in my reading – but Kingfisher always does it with a good dose of humor and a sprinkle of quirky misunderstandings that turn the romantic thread into something totally entertaining.  Of course here it helps that Halla is far from an inexperienced, fluffy-brained girl, and that Sarkis is a wry veteran of many battles, and very serious about his duties as the genie-in-the-sword.  The juxtaposition between these two characters is one of the best elements in the story, what with Halla posing endless streams of questions about, well, anything and gruff Sarkis teetering between annoyance at Halla’s endless curiosity and a growing sense of protectiveness toward his wielder. And his attraction for her generous bosom as well….

The story however sports some dramatic moments, particularly where Sarkis’ past is concerned: his pain for past mistakes of judgment, that cost the lives of many of his comrades and that ultimately led him to this present condition, is something that adds an intriguing layer to his personality and the main reason – besides being tied to an enchanted sword, that is – he’s reluctant to express his feelings toward Halla. He is somewhat damaged, and as the story unfolds we discover that Halla is too, in her own way: the beauty of their relationship comes from the fact that they end up complementing and enhancing each other, which is made possible by their maturity and the sum of their lives’ experiences.  

This review would not be complete without a mention of the lawyer-priest Zale (which I already encountered in Paladin’s Grace) and of their intriguing diversions into the details of legislation, not to mention their deadpan attitude that often serves the group of travelers when they encounter some unsavory characters.  The Temple of the Rat and its servants piqued my curiosity in the first Paladin novel, and I was quite happy to learn more about them here: there is an intriguing narrative angle in the descriptions of this religious sect’s adherence to law in what looks like an otherwise lawless background, and I hope to learn even more about that in the other books set in this same universe.

And last but not least, Brindle the gnole cart driver: in this universe, gnoles are badger-like creatures gifted with speech who peacefully co-exist with humans, taking on several menial tasks: Brindle is far more than a comic relief in the story, because his impassive replies and his somewhat bewildered comments about human nature add a very welcome humorous point of view about our own behavior.

Once more, T. Kingfisher managed to enchant me with her oh-so-unlikely heroes and their equally unlikely adventures, a veritable breath of fresh air in a genre that too often tends toward grimness and ominous threats.  I can’t wait to sample what other delightful stories are set in this imaginary background.

My Rating:

THORNHEDGE, by T. Kingfisher

Could a story that’s steeped in darkness end up being delightfully sweet? Yes, provided that it’s written by T. Kingfisher, who possesses a remarkable aptitude at taking well-known fairy tales and standing them on their head…

Toadling is a changeling, a human baby swapped by the fairies for one of their own and later thoughtlessly discarded and forgotten. Despite being given to the Greenteeth, the flesh-eating swamp dwellers, she is not devoured but rather accepted and loved and taught some magic, including the ability to turn into a frog – hence her name. When we meet her, she’s been standing watch over a bramble-covered tower for a long time, living in fear that someone might approach and try to wake the princess lying at the top of the tower, because that would unleash something terrible. So that when knight Halim enters her domain, brought by the whispers of a story about a sleeping princess, Toadling tries her best to stop him, and so… Well, that’s enough, you had better discover the rest by yourselves 😉

Once again I loved how this author can take one of the most famous fairy tales, that of Sleeping Beauty, and turn it inside out while creating a heroine who might not be either beautiful or talented, but who possesses a well of determination and courage that make her stand out and that ultimately win Halim’s trust and help in trying to lift the curse.  In a way, completely subverting the classic plot of this fairy tale, the arrival of the knight does affect an awakening but it’s not that of the princess – rather it’s Toadling’s, who had been spiritually “hibernating” for so long while keeping watch on the tower and on its slumbering guest.   These two characters play their part delightfully well: Toadling by her self-effacing and timid demeanor that overlays an admirable dedication to her duty, truly above and beyond what could be expected; and Halim, who candidly admits to not being much of a knight or a warrior, but who knows how to listen and often shows the endearing trait of apologizing for his verbal outbursts.

The overturning of the classic storyline goes on with the depiction of other characters, so that we see the fairies as the tale’s “bad guys”, first because they exchange babies on a whim, without a real reason for the act, and then because they try to correct a potentially deadly mistake by sending someone who is ill-suited to the task, with disastrous consequences. Forget the fairy godmothers of old, because here you will not find any of them – on the contrary, you will encounter more love and nurturing attitude among the “monsters”, the Greenteeth with whom Toadling grows up and to whom she longs to return, who look far more human than the supposedly beautiful fae.

Another very enjoyable story from an author who I’m sure will never prove disappointing…

My Rating:

OKSY, COME HOME (A Blood Scouts novella), by Phil Williams

I received this novella from the author, in exchange for an honest review: my thanks for this opportunity.

A little while ago I had the pleasure of reading and reviewing author Phil Williams’ latest work, the first book in the series The Blood Scouts, whose title was However Many Must Die: the story focuses on an all-women squad in the Stanclif army, engaged in guerrilla warfare against their Drail opponents in the conflict that’s troubling the imaginary world named Rocc.  This shorter work explores one of the side characters in that story, that of sharp-shooter Oksy, one who exhibits detailed knowledge on many subjects besides her skill with a rifle.

Oksy Come Home is a prequel for the longer narrative and shows us Oksy’s wartime journey before her enrollment in the Blood Scouts: it’s a bothersome look into the Stanclif misogynist mentality which is unable to accept a woman as an equal in warfare, something I already encountered in the main novel and that here is presented in all its ugliness because of Okay’s virtual isolation in an all-male platoon where her presence is – at best – badly tolerated.

She is a better shooter than most of her comrades, and yet as the story opens we see her playing second fiddle (an unarmed second fiddle at that) to a young soldier who does not care for her warnings about the dangers they might encounter. What’s worse is that when her direst predictions turn into dramatic reality, she is the one who’s blamed for the mission’s failure by a short-sighted, overbearing commander who proceeds to send her to the frontline – probably in the hope that she will die there.

As if that were not enough, several of the chapters start with excerpts from letters from home in which her mother asks Oksy to abandon the “folly” of “playing soldier” and return home where, however, things don’t seem to be much better, according to an intriguing passage I’m not going to share because it would be a spoiler.  So it’s with immense relief that toward the end of the story Oksy is attached to the Blood Scouts and makes the acquaintance of a certain Wild Wish: it’s the beginning of a new phase in her life, and one that will take her toward the main narrative. And better days, as much as that’s possible in wartime…

It was very interesting to meet Oksy before she was the person I encountered in However Many Must Die, and this shorter work added many facets to her personality. I wonder if Mr. Williams has in store other in-depth examinations of the characters in this world: I would more than welcome them while I wait for the next book…. 🙂

My Rating:

HOWEVER MANY MUST DIE (The Blood Scouts #1), by Phil Williams

I received this book from the author, in exchange for an honest review: my thanks for this opportunity.

All the books I’ve so far read and enjoyed from author Phil Williams have been set in Urban Fantasy backgrounds, so when I happened to encounter the description for However Many Must Die and understood that it was something completely different, I was curious to see where the change of theme would take his narrative skills, so I was quite delighted when Mr. Williams granted me an ARC of his new endeavor.

The setting depicted here is a richly complex one: at the roots of the narrative there is a world, the Rocc, engaged in the strife between its two main powers, the conquest-hungry Drail and its major antagonist Stanclif, each of them supported by their own alliances of minor states.   The background and the technical elements mentioned bring immediately to mind a level of civilization similar to that of Europe during World War I (with some steampunk accents) but with a huge difference, because this world is also home to a great variety of creatures – from the merely bizarre to the monstrous – which add a generous dose of fantasy to the mix, where one can also find magic wielders to complement the existing technology.

In this context of seemingly endless, drawn-out warfare we meet the Blood Scouts, an all-female squadron mostly employed in missions that entail commando-like incursions where sniping skills are particularly required. Wild Wish is a member of the Blood Scouts and we meet her in the heat of one such skirmish, a bloody one where the Scouts’ success is marred by some grievous losses. There is little time, however, to mourn the death of friends, because the Scouts are tasked with a dangerous but vital mission: intelligence reports hint at a terrible weapon being perfected by the Drail, one that might not only change the tide of war in their favor, but also threatens a massive loss of life.  Wild Wish and her friends then embark on a journey into enemy territory that will take them across a war-ravaged world and test their mettle to the utmost.

I was completely captivated by Wild Wish and the Blood Scouts in their quest across the Rocc and its different terrains, cultures and creatures, even though I did struggle a little at the start because this is a very complex, very layered world which requires unwavering attention – in this regard I was greatly helped by the glossary at the start of the book, returning to it time and again to help me make sense of the huge amount of information underlying the story.   In this respect However Many Must Die is a challenging read but once you become comfortable with the background you will be able to enjoy the characters and their adventures: the shining light in this novel comes from the camaraderie binding the Blood Scouts and the way they express it through affectionate banter or apparently rough exchanges that come from the well of shared experiences of this group of women.

In this world women are not viewed as effective combatants, there is a deep veneer of misogyny running through the Blood Scouts’ dealings with the other military and it’s interesting to see how this serves to cement their bonds even more deeply. Even the enemy – alerted by its own intelligence about a possibile incursion – struggles to accept that a handful of women could be responsible for the news of sneak attacks and successful stunts that are being reported.  On the Drail side of the war there is another woman, Maringdale, who is an officer of the Purification (a sort of secret police) and equally suffering from discrimination: she is the enemy, granted, and while it’s easy to hope that her hunt for the Blood Scouts will be unsuccessful, it’s equally easy to sympathize with her, given the supercilious treatment she must endure in her attempts to bring the Stanclif infiltration to the attention of her superiors and ultimately to foil it.

The characters are undoubtedly intriguing, and there are many more besides Wild Wish: from mage Emi, whose dirt-minding powers can affect the environment but require a price of momentary madness, expressed in manic laughter; to sniper Rue whose moods can turn from brooding to murderous at the drop of a hat; to Oksy whose inexhaustible well of knowledge tends to set Wish on edge, they all contribute to a wonderful tapestry of personalities we come to care deeply for.  These are mostly young women who choose to enlist either to show their worth or to escape from a dreary existence, but their shared experiences forge them into a cohesive whole where they are able to accept sacrifice not only for a higher goal but above all for the good of the small “tribe” they created with each other.  

The journey itself, that often takes the shape of a classic fantasy quest, thanks to the strange places and even stranger creatures that Wish & Co. encounter on the road, is one whose stakes and hardships keep increasing, as does the pace of the novel: where at the start However Many Must Die reads like something of a war chronicle, it gradually morphs into a high-octane race against time and impossible odds, punctuated by run-ins with the weirdest beings one could imagine, ranging from forest-dwelling barkmen (the name says everything) to goblins and vicious Grekkels (think something between lizard and wolf) and so on.  Be prepared for blood-chilling skirmishes and grievous losses, even among favorite characters….

But the best comes indeed last because the final showdown – set on a huge train rushing madly toward its momentous destination – will keep you on the edge of your seat and in serious need of oxygen, and it was my favorite part of the story, one that compelled me to stay awake well past my bedtime to see what would happen.

If this is – as it would seem – only the first installment in a new series featuring the Blood Scouts, I’m totally onboard for the continuation of the journey.

My Rating:

THE JUDAS BLOSSOM (The Nightingale and the Falcon #1), by Stephen Aryan

I received this novel from Angry Robot Books, through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review: my thanks to both of them for this opportunity.

Historical Fantasy always offers me the double joy of reading an interesting story and of learning something about aspects of the past I knew little or nothing about: in the case of The Judas Blossom, that past is represented by the westward expansion of the Mongol empire in the 13^th Century. 

Hulagu Kahn, grandson of the famous Genghis, is carrying forward his ancestor’s dream of an all-encompassing empire, and as we meet him he’s in the process of completing the conquest of Persia: unfazed by the attacks of the guild of the Assassins, bent on stopping his advance, he pursues his grand plan with ruthless efficiency, conquering city after city, each success culminating with the unleashing of his soldiers on the hapless inhabitants in a frenzy of murder and pillage.  His one disappointment comes from the youngest of his sons, Temujin, whose warlike instinct are practically non-existent: trying to earn his father’s attention and respect, Temujin embarks on a quest that will lead him to wield an unexpected power that will ultimately test his mettle as a man.

Kaivon is a Persian general, angry at the defeat of his people but at the same time conscious that rebelling against the invading Mongol army would be a hopeless task. With an unexpected flash of intuition, Kaivon understands that such a mighty foe could be destroyed only from within, so he chooses to attach himself to Hulagu’s army and bide his time until he will find the proverbial chink in the armor of his enemy.

And finally, Kokochin is a young Mongol princess whose tribe has been utterly obliterated for refusing to obey the ruling Kahn: sold into slavery, she’s now the latest among Hulagu’s wives and at first she seems resigned to her fate, until she finds herself drawn into something bigger than herself and quite worthwhile, a means of getting revenge against Hulagu for all of her losses.

I completely (and happily) lost myself in The Judas Blossom, one of those well-balanced novels where plot and characterization blend seamlessly into a page-turning story of intrigue, politics and personal journeys that feel vivid and cinematic – and quite compelling, despite the brutal, unforgiving background depicted here, one where conquest and destruction are the rule of the day and stop at nothing to achieve the dream of an empire encompassing all the known world.  There are several sections where the readers are made privy of the consequences of conquest: streets littered with debris and rotting corpses, beautiful homes or works of art wantonly destroyed by the ravaging conquerors, the worst of humanity exposed there for all to see. 

The Mongols might be the main protagonists of the story here, but they are certainly not the heroes, nor is their leader Hulagu: if at first one might sympathize with him, targeted by assassins on one side and supported by faithful subordinates or by his loving “war wife” (the one who always follows him on campaigns) on the other, once we see him through other people’s eyes that image changes drastically.  He is a man given to murderous fits of rage and possessed by the unyielding determination of fulfilling his grandfather’s dream, and to that end he’s ready to sacrifice everything and everyone.  It’s in his dealings with his son Temujin that his worst qualities come to the fore, at the same time highlighting Temujin’s struggle to find his own way in a world where he does not fit. The young man’s journey is a heartbreaking one, because he does everything in his power to try and gain the recognition – if not the affection – of his father, and once he seems to find something that might prove his value (a threat that introduces the only element of magic in the story) he finally understands that he’s only a tool, and that his quest is a fruitless one. The moment when he decides to “never again to seek his father’s approval” is a poignantly touching one, and it also made me eager to see where this newfound realization will take this character next.

General Kaivon is a man divided: on one side he wants revenge for his people’s defeat and submission to the Mongol horde, on the other he’s fascinated by Hulagu’s determination, and his unstoppable drive.  Kaivon plays a very dangerous game, and one that forces him to terrible compromises when he must play the part of the aggressor against people like his own, but at the same time he enjoys the cat-and-mouse strategy in which he’s able to sabotage the Kahn’s plans while acting the part of the faithful retainer.   The role of the double agent is indeed a precarious one, particularly where Hulagu’s famous temper is concerned, and several of the passages where Kaivon plays out his schemes kept me on edge from start to finish: it will be interesting to see how – and how far – his plan will take him…

Princess Kokochin gained my sympathy from page one: alone and destitute, with few prospects aside being one of the many playthings for the Kahn, she discovers an unexpected way of finding her own path and exacting revenge for her lost family.  I liked to see how daring she could be, and also how stubborn in pursuing her goals or defying the constrictions of her role and status, and I admired her composure in the dealings with Guyuk, the Kahn’s first wife and ruthless manager of his affairs.  All of the main female characters in The Judas Blossom are strong, determined women who manage to promote their own agency in a male-dominated world, their best representation being the mysterious Twelve, a group of highly-placed conspirators who work in secret to thwart the Mongol aggression.

There are many layers in this novel, from the personal journeys of the various characters to the depiction of war and conquest to the political agendas and power posturing that create a vivid, vibrant world built on historical foundations and reinforced with engrossing fictional narrative: for such a large-scope story it turned out to be a compelling, well-paced read that ended with a huge twist which left me eager to know what will happen next. Highly recommended.

My Rating:

The months of August and July will be focused on the blog tour for this amazing story. Here are all the dates where you will be able to learn more about The Judas Blossom:

CLAWS AND CONTRIVANCIES (Regency Dragons #2), by Stephanie Burgis

I received this novel from the author, in exchange for an honest review: my thanks for the opportunity to read the ARC.

Two years ago I was introduced, with Scales and Sensibility, to Stephanie Burgis’ new alternative version of the Regency Era, one where dragons are a fact of life and the ultimate fashion accessory for ladies of the ton. I was charmed by the adventures of spirited Elinor Tregarth and Sir Jessamyn, the dragon she came to adopt, so when Ms. Burgis contacted me with the ARC for the second book in this series I was delighted to go back to her imagined world.

Claws and Contrivances follows the adventures of another Miss Tregarth, Rose: the three sisters, orphaned after the death of both parents in a carriage accident, were sent to three different groups of relatives and while Elinor had the misfortune to be taken in by the insufferable Heathergills, Rose had better luck with the Parrys, a somewhat impoverished but loving family made of delightfully eccentric individuals: cousin Serena would love to live in a gothic setting, and looks for ghosts and ghouls behind every corner, while Georgiana aka Georgie is quite the tomboy, preferring riding breeches to flowing dresses; Beth, on the other hand, is the more reserved of the three, while Aunt Parry is a dedicated, distracted, ink-smudged novelist and Uncle Parry a noted dragon scholar.

While the family is waiting for Uncle Parry’s guest, a fellow dragon scholar, Rose stumbles on a dragon in one of the less-frequented rooms of Gogood Abbey: the poor creature is terrified and shows clear signs of previous abuse, but Rose’s gentle ways soon gain her the dragon’s trust – which seems to lead to the appearance of a second, equally traumatized creature…   Determined to find the dragons’ owner, Rose tries to contact the Parrys’ new neighbor, Sir Gareth, but the arrival of the expected guest – the scholarly Mr. Aubrey we already met in the previous book – brings about a change of plans and the start of a delightful comedy of errors that soon takes on some romantic overtones mixed with a slowly unfurling mystery.

I don’t want to share more of the plot because to spoil it would be a great disservice: it’s enough to say that here you will find all the elements that have made Ms. Burgis’ stories such a joy to read, with plucky heroines, dastardly villains and gallant gentlemen – and of course the dragons, which feature quite abundantly in this story  😉    I was delighted to see the return of distractedly bookish Mr. Aubrey here: he might be oblivious to the usual social graces while his nose is buried in a book (and how could a bookworm like myself blame him?) but when he’s called to higher purposes he shows a remarkable strength of character, which becomes quite necessary considering that the shady Sir Gareth is the kind of villain we all love to hate.

Rose is an outstanding heroine, her selflessness and courage work well within the conventions of the era, but she also shows a capacity to transcend those conventions when she feels the need to protect those she loves – either her adopted family or the dragons she has taken responsibility for. And speaking of Rose, I have to commend once again Ms. Burgis’ skills in creating romantic scenes that not only develop in an organic way inside the story’s framework, but also feel extremely appealing even to an old, grumpily un-romantic reader like yours truly – to the point that I find myself rooting for the protagonists to reach the necessary happily-ever-after…

If you’re looking for an enjoyable, quick read where the comedy of manners successfully meets a magic background (and dragons, let’s not forget the dragons…) you need not look further than this series and its charming, engaging characters. And since there are three Tregarth sisters, I do look forward to the dragon-linked adventures of the third one, Harriet: I have no idea where Ms. Burgis will take the story next, but I know that it will be just as engaging and lively as the previous ones.

My Rating: