The Antithesis by Terra Whiteman (2011)

Smashwords / Amazon / Author’s Site

3/5 stars

Description:
This is a story about God and the Devil, but not how you were taught to believe.

This is also a story about love and hate, and the suffering both can bring.

This is about rights and wrongs, and all of the spaces in between.

This is about revenge, courage, death, passion; with no villains, no heroes… only those left scorned.

This is a story about Heaven, Hell, and the Jury that holds them together.

This is The Antithesis.

Justice Alezair Czynri is the newest recruit of the Jury, a group of powerful beings who reside in Purgatory and enforce the Code between Heaven and Hell. However, Justice Czynri could not have come at a worse time. A storm lays just over the horizon…

One that brings with it a war.

Review:
The Antithesis is impossible to peg to a subgenre. The tropes are a mash between seinen action manga (Japanese comics for a 20+ demographic) and supernatural urban fantasy. I’m a sucker for gorey over-the-top Rule of Cool fight scenes, so when I read the scene where Alezair gets turned into a Judge and can turn his hands into scythes, demolish armies, and regenerate lost limbs by eating dirt and convulsing painfully, I knew I had to read this book.

The original take on the battle between Heaven and Hell is thrilling to read. It’s a world where angels and demons are more akin to other creatures (ala humanoid races in space opera) rather than idealized ethereal beings. The demons are the former slaves of the angels, and the war they wage on the souls of lesser beings (such as us. We’re just one portion of a multiverse and we’re not very important) is essentially a giant (rigged) chess game to sort out the politics of these two groups. Judges are another kind of creature whose role is to keep score. It’s a messy shades-of-gray universe where the angels seem like jerks and you can’t help but sympathize with the demons, and I have to give kudos to the author for the fresh perspective.

This is a badass book in many ways. I liked many of the demon characters, I’m awfully fond of the crazy fight scenes, and there’s some interesting worlds in the multiverse (including a weird west one) but I couldn’t completely get into it for two personal reasons. Firstly, vampire-like urban fantasy tropes don’t interest me, and secondly, I couldn’t suspend my disbelief for some of the world-building.

There aren’t any vampires in this book but the tropes are similar. Alezair gets turned into a Judge because he lusts after Leid and he becomes her guardian. Judges live for hundreds of years, have to kill a lot of people, and some even mourn the fact that they’ve turned into monsters. All the higher creatures have hierarchical societies, they drink wine and smoke constantly, and there’s a lot of intrigue and unrequited love angst. I know a lot of readers like these tropes, but I generally just can’t bring myself to care about these kinds of conflicts (especially the love angst) and unfortunately this book wasn’t the exception.

All the higher creatures act like 21st century North Americans, complete with desk jobs and alcohol abuse. It humanizes them, but there wasn’t an explanation as to why they all organized their societies in this specific way, so my brain often kept on questioning it instead of enjoying the story. Even a wry comment like “Once the multiverse developed the art of bureaucracy, it engulfed everything in its path and escape was impossible” would help with the suspension of disbelief, but it doesn’t exist.

The other dimension I couldn’t wrap my head around was gender. The narrative asserts the biological and historical differences between these creatures, but they did not vary in gender dynamics and they dealt with femaleness rather strangely. Leid is the Commander of all the Judges, and according to the narrative, she’s highly respected and feared, intelligent, and physically powerful. So I raised my eyebrow at the fact that she could be cornered to a wall by a male subordinate and be paralyzed with fear, and there’s an after-the-fact horrified reflection on the man’s part that he could have raped her. But why does a woman like Leid have to fear rape if she’s as powerful as the narrative asserts her to be? She’s a hands-turn-into-scythes killing machine. I wouldn’t expect that the Terminator could be harassed in the same way, so why would she by virtue of her being female?

I know other readers will find this book very enjoyable, but because of matters of personal taste, I can’t say this is one of my favourite books of year. World-building is one of the most challenging parts of speculative literature, and it’s much easier to do so when it’s based on common settings, and much more tricky when from an original secondary world. Like I said, the points I raise about the world-building are very subjective, so don’t let that stop you if you won’t find them distracting. If you like over-the-top fight scenes, intrigue and tragedy akin to vampire tropes, and a unique concepts on the battle between heaven and hell, then you might consider this worth a look.

You might like this if you like…
Dark and Troubled Pasts; over-the-top Rule of Cool manga-style fight scenes; vampire and urban fantasy tropes; unrequited love angst; multiverses with a space opera vibe

If you’re interested in this book, you’re in luck! The sequels, Book Two Alpha and Book Two Beta, are already out on Smashwords, Amazon, and other retailers.

Fate’s Mirror by M. H. Mead (2011)

Smashwords / Amazon / Author’s Site

4/5 stars

Description:
Morris Payne is a viker, an elite hacker who navigates the electronic universe as easily as the rest of us walk down the street. While he’s famous in the virtual world, he’s anonymous in this one. Agoraphobia, with its uncontrolled panic attacks, has left him housebound and friendless. But someone, somehow, has done the impossible—connected his virtual life to his real life. Now Morris has to brave physical reality to stop a killer who was never supposed to exist.

Created in a secret government lab, escaped into the world-wide network, an artificial intelligence calls herself the Triple Goddess of Fate. She wants freedom, power, and the assurance of her own safety. But mostly she wants Morris Payne dead.

Her creators can’t even find the AI, much less defeat her. They think Morris can. No one, no matter how well equipped, has survived a confrontation with Fate, and all Morris has are his legendary hacking skills and a virtual pirate ship loaded with the latest in defensive software.

Morris Payne just might save the world. If only he can gather the courage to leave his house.

Review:
The Canary Review describes this book as “Cyber Opera” (cyberpunk + space opera) and I think it’s a fitting phrase. Cyberpunk generally has a focus on “high tech and low life”, but the virtual reality in Fate’s Mirror shares space opera’s delight in the fantastic. Cyber attacks take the form of naval combat in this VR world, resulting in some pretty amusing metaphors:

Icy fear trickled down Morris’ ribs. No ship had sunk under him yet, but taking on water meant the possibility—no, the probability—of viral contamination.

Readers looking for a serious discussion on tech, cybernetics, and AI won’t be satisfied with this book, but if you’re looking for a VR adventure with a unique anti-hero, you’d be hard-pressed to find anything else that compares.

It grabbed me quickly after the first chapter. The plot moves fast, and the problems and intrigue just keep piling on. The prose style is so seamless and consistent that you wouldn’t guess that it was a co-written work. M. H. Mead is a pen name for the team of Margaret Yang and Harry R. Campion, and I have to commend them both for their excellent writing.

Morris is a snarky anti-hero, but he is a memorable character because of his agoraphobia, an anxiety disorder that makes it difficult to do many things. It’s difficult for him to be in crowds, board a plane, eat food he didn’t prepare, and so on. This provides extra challenges for Morris, especially when the book begins with a rogue AI hacking his house’s utility systems–making said house explode in flames. All the racing and chasing forces Morris to grow out of his anxieties, resulting in a lot of character development. The agoraphobia makes things interesting, but it is never melodramatic and it doesn’t solely define him as a character. The other characters are also compelling even if there are only brief glimpses into their lives. I really liked Aidra; she’s Morris’ former boss, a private investigator, and a single mom. Their teamwork on the case advances their relationship past strictly-professional, and Morris’ affections for her makes him more human.

While the characters are great, the exceptions are the artificial intelligences. Their motives aren’t sufficiently explained. They could be fearsome antagonists while still having sympathetic motives, but they seem to be evil for no reason. This is especially noticeable as the AIs are digital reproductions of real people who don’t share their traits.

I have two other criticisms. The chapters jump across more POVs than necessary. Did the reader need to know about a security agent’s former career from his internal monologue? Not really. I also noticed that the female characters are magnets for tragedy to fuel Morris’ angst. It heightens the drama, but it distracted me from the story whenever I became conscious of the Disposable Woman trope being used again and again.

Fate’s Mirror is a fun cyberpunk read. If you like well-developed characters, a fast-paced plot, and fanciful VR worlds complete with pirate ships and naval battles, you’ll enjoy this book. I wished the antagonists had more depth and the Disposable Woman trope wasn’t used so often, but it’s still an entertaining romp and a unique addition to the genre.

Other reviews of this book: The Canary Review, Papyrus Independent Author Reviews

You might like this if you like…
Evil artificial intelligences; fantastical virtual worlds; naval battles as metaphors for cyberwarfare; anti-heroes with anxiety disorders

The authors have a standalone short story with the same protagonist. If you’re interested in a quick cyberpunk read, you can find my review of Good Fences here. 

The End of the World by Andrew Biss (2011)

Smashwords / Amazon / Author’s Site

2/5 stars

Description:
Are you prepared for what comes next?

Accustomed to a life of cosseted seclusion at home with his parents, Valentine is suddenly faced with making his own way in the world. His new life is quickly upended, however, when he’s mugged at gunpoint. Finding shelter at a mysterious inn run by the dour Mrs. Anna, he soon encounters a Bosnian woman with a hole where her stomach used to be, an American entrepreneur with a scheme to implant televisions into people’s foreheads, and a Catholic priest who attempts to lure him down inside a kitchen sink. Then things start getting strange…

In this story based loosely around the state of Bardo from The Tibetan Book of the Dead – an intermediate state where the dead arrive prior to rebirth – dying is the easy part. Getting out of Bardo and returning to the land of the living is a far more perilous proposition, and unless you know what you’re doing…you might never leave.

An odd, yet oddly touching tale of life, death, and the space in-between.

Review:
The End of the World is a contemporary fantasy novella with an offbeat sense of humour. Valentine is a sheltered teenager who is thrown out of the house by his parents, and subsequently finds himself in a bizarre inn named The End of the World. When I say bizarre, I really do mean bizarre. Priests emerge out of kitchen sinks, the next door guest is walking around with a giant gunshot hole in what used to be her stomach, and Valentine tries to make sense of it all.

I enjoyed parts of this book. There’s some hilariously awkward dialogue between Valentine and his parents, and the narrative is sprinkled with colourful off-hand comments that require a double take.  The humour tends toward the weird, dark, or perverted, which is all fine by me because it was done consistently. There’s a number of well-written descriptions, and I liked the story’s core message.

The book doesn’t reach its potential due to too much telling and not enough showing. The end notes state that this is a novella adapted from a play, which explains the heavy emphasis on dialogue and the noticeable lack of atmosphere, setting, or character interactions beyond sitting around and talking.

The story’s overall trajectory is predictable. The main conflict of the story is about Valentine trying to figure out what the inn is and how to move on, but the book description already spoils that this inn is based off purgatory, and it’s not much of a stretch to figure out what happened to him. Valentine also doesn’t get into much adventuring or much else before the story ends, so it feels like the entire second act is missing.

The characters are theatrical but unconvincing–more like types rather than real people. Valentine gets into an argument with a Catholic priest about religion, and I thought that the dialogue was so utterly silly that I couldn’t read it without cringing. I didn’t find the argument funny or intellectually stimulating, and that was the case with most of the dialogue in this book.

The problem with the other guests is that they are only characterized by where they came from and how they died. Beheaded Afghan man. Bosnian woman with no stomach. There wasn’t enough humanity or authentic slices of life to make them convincing. It’s like they were pulled out of the evening news report of who-died-in-the-world-today. Characters don’t have to be realistic or sympathetic to serve their role in a story, but they were caricatures without being funny or really doing anything. They were talking props for Valentine, and that was it.

I like the story’s central message regarding life and death, but it hits you over the head with it over and over again in dialogue which makes it lose its impact. In the end, I’m looking for a story to engage me in one of two ways: make me feel, or make me think. The best stories do both. Unfortunately, The End of the World does neither.

I think Biss has storytelling skill, but this adaptation needs to read more like a book. It’s not dealing with the limitations of a play, so there should be more action, scenes, and characters to beef up the second act. The message should be delivered through the progression of events rather than as infodumps through dialogue. A book is not limited by budget, sets, or actors–the only limit is imagination. Perhaps I would have enjoyed the play, but as a novella, I’d give it a miss.

You might like this if you like…
Dialogue dialogue dialogue; quirky and ribald humour; agnostics and atheists; setting… what’s that?

The End of the World is currently a free download at Smashwords and Amazon. 

Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum by Stephen Prosapio (2011)

Smashwords / Amazon / Author’s Site

4/5 stars

Description:
Zach Kalusky, host of Sci-D TV’s Xavier Paranormal Investigators, is ecstatic when he’s given the opportunity to explore the most haunted site in Chicago for a Halloween Special: Rosewood Asylum, a place long made off-limits by the local government, plagued by decades of mysterious fires and unexplained events. It’s Zach’s dream investigation- but there’s a catch: the network forces Xavier Paranormal Investigators to partner with the more dramatic-but less ethical-Demon Hunters.

Now, Zach must fight for both his show’s integrity and his team’s loyalty while trying to protect his own secret: that he, himself, is possessed.

Review:
Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum is a paranormal suspense/contemporary fantasy novel with a fun and original premise. It’s about a reality show that investigates paranormal activity, and the investigators are students from the Catholic Saint Xavier University in Chicago. Zach is a pretty ordinary guy working on his PhD in Psychology… other than the fact that he’s worried about network ratings, he’s possessed by the spirit of his dead uncle, and the abandoned asylum he’s investigating has something in it that’s keen on setting him and his team ablaze.

The prologue was okay, but it was chapter one that won me over. I was instantly charmed by Zach, and the story moves quickly into the world of supernatural investigations, TV production politics, and the creepy grounds of Rosewood Asylum.

I truly enjoyed the TV production aspect to this book–it’s interesting how it structures the investigation and the interactions between the characters. There are several scenes where the characters  would have the real interaction (greeting each other or relaying information), then they’d have to do it all over again and adjust their dialogue for the camera.  It was enlightening and it cracked me up. The rivalry between the two paranormal groups is amusing (“the Demon Hunters looked like a pack of Hells Angels who’d ridden their motorcycles through the entire length of a circus train”) and a lot of scheming takes place. Other than having an evil spirit/arsonist on the premises, they also have casting/promotion politics and planted evidence to deal with.

An abandoned insane asylum isn’t the most original location for a paranormal investigation, but Prosapio brings such a convincing history to the setting that I wouldn’t be surprised if it was a real place. The causes of the asylum’s haunted fate are tied to real events in Chicago, adding a richness to the world-building.

While the characters, setting, and subplots are great, the central paranormal plot is a bit predictable. There were key points that I saw coming from a mile away. A character was introduced early in the book, and I wrote a comment on my Kindle: “It’s gonna be revealed eventually that this person is dead all along Sixth Sense-style”. Yep–it happened. And I suppose exorcism-style books could only really end in one way, especially if the author is working on a sequel. Maybe I’m just not as attuned with this genre, but I wish that the author would subvert paranormal tropes a bit more.

Also, some lines came off a bit weird at first. In a scene where Zach and a psychic consultant exchange movie lines as they greet each other, the narration explains that these lines are significant because the consultant resembles the lead of the film and “it also mocked the stereotype that black people, at least those not practicing Voodoo in New Orleans, weren’t psychic and never dabbled in the occult.” I was confused by that comment until later on, I realized that consultant was African-American himself, and this is a book where the protagonist is a white Catholic boy possessed by the spirit of his dead uncle. I guess it wasn’t immediately clear to me that this was part of the fantasy world-building.

The central plot could’ve had more surprises, but it’s still fun novel overall and the other story elements make it a refreshing read. Ghosts of Rosewood Asylum is a well-written book and it’s recommended if you’re into the paranormal genre. Give the sample a try–I’d be surprised if chapter one didn’t suck you in instantly.

You might like this if you like…
Paranormal tropes like evil ghosts and exorcisms; TV production politics; Chicago; a colourful cast of characters

Prosapio has a science fiction thriller called Dream War, and it has received a number of positive comments; Isabella of The Scattering has given it a glowing review.

Dead Men Don’t Cry by Nancy Fulda (2011)

Smashwords /Amazon / Author’s Site

3/5 stars

Description:
A collection of eleven sci-fi short stories by Nancy Fulda. From computers that invent God to minds that travel through time, electronic ghosts to enigmatic extraterrestrials, these stories stem from a love of fiction and a fascination with the boundless possibilities of our universe.

Review:
This is a solid, well-written, and intelligent science fiction anthology. I’m giving the stories themselves four stars out of five. My main gripe is with the minor editing errors, but I’ll get to that later in this review.

The stories move fast and pack a lot of punch. This collection contains both action-packed and high-concept stories. It has thrilling race and chase sequences while it explores classic sci-fi themes such as artificial intelligence, cloning, and first contact.

It’s difficult to pick my favourites, but “The Breath of Heaven” has to be one of them. It’s about artificial intelligences gone “rogue” on the human space colonists. It turns several tropes upside down, and it’s told from the POV of a very sympathetic AI character. The ambiguity in the artificial intelligences’ directives leads them in the search for the ideal human operator, and consequently puts them in conflict with the imperfect colonists they’re supposed to be answering to.

I’m also fond of “Dead Men Don’t Cry” and “Backlash”. The former is a whodunnit murder investigation in the context of Earth vs. Colonies politics, and the latter is an action-packed time travel story with some interesting characters. “Monument” is a poignant reflection on first contact; while it’s a bit of a downer, I think it’s the most likely scenario. “A New Kind of Sunrise” is a set on a planet where human colonists have lost technology, and have become nomadic tribes who must cope with the extreme climate that comes with a brutally hot sun. The author has an upcoming novel set in this world, and I’d love to read it when it comes out.

Fulda’s writing is so tight that I think that you should only read this when you’re alert. The world-building and character histories she covers in one paragraph would require an entire page from other authors. This is evident in the first few pages of “Pastry Run.” So if you sample the book and the details fly over your head: get some sleep, then read it again. Trust me.

I received my review copy from Smashwords, and there could be improvements to the editing. I noted about 13 errors. It included some typos, line breaks within sentences, and dialogue that clumped together in a paragraph which made it difficult to figure out who the speaker was. Maybe I’m just picky, but I found these distracting enough to dock off one star. It’s possible Amazon copy does not share these, or that these errors have already been resolved, but I can only provide my rating from the review copy I received. Once the errors are fixed, consider this a four star review.

This is a solid sci-fi book and it’s definitely recommended. I’d just wait until a more polished version comes out before purchasing it at Smashwords.

Other reviews of this book: Sift Book Reviews, Fantasy Cookie

You might like this if you like…
High-concept intelligent sci-fi; race and chase sequences; subversion of AI tropes

Several of the short stories featured in this collection are also available as standalones on Smashwords and Amazon. But this entire collection is currently on sale for $0.99 on Amazon, so why don’t you just get them all?

October 4 update: I received an email from the author stating that corrected versions are now up on Smashwords and Amazon.

Symphony of Blood, A Hank Mondale Supernatural Case by Adam Pepper (2011)

Smashwords / Amazon / Author’s Site

3/5 stars

Description:
Hank Mondale, a rough-around-the-edges P.I. with a small drinking problem and a large gambling problem, needs a break. With his landlord threatening eviction and his bookie threatening worse, things look bleak. Until real estate mogul Thomas Blake calls with an incredible story: a monster is trying to kill his daughter. Hank figures she’s probably some whacked-out spoiled brat, but desperate, Hank takes the case to track down the supposed monster. It seems that people around Mackenzie Blake are disappearing. It’s obviously no coincidence. Was Hank hired to unwittingly aid a wealthy murderess? Or is there really someone…or some thing, trying to kill Mackenzie Blake?

A symphony plays that only It can hear. But there will be a special performance, just for her.

Review:
Hank is a private investigator who has to solve the case of a man-eating monster. I’d peg this at both contemporary fantasy and horror. The fantastical and horror elements come from–well… the man-eating monster. The protagonist is a fairly typical P.I., but Pepper does excellent characterization, so it’s hard not to be charmed by Hank.

I really enjoyed the first half of this book. I was hooked right from page one, it’s fast-paced, and the dialogue and the descriptions of the characters are delightful. They’re quirky people: Sandy the kleptomaniac secretary, Joe at the Pool Hall (when he shrugs, his chins line up like a seven layer cake), Mackenzie the moody rich girl who knows more than she’s letting on–and there’s plenty of other personalities. I swear I was chuckling or grinning at something on every third page.

The monster itself is original too. Pepper masterfully writes the creature in such a way that the reader has an idea of what it could be like, but not with too much detail that all the mystery is gone. What’s unknown is always more terrifying than what is completely known. The creature is also a surprisingly well-developed character on its own right, and is actually more sympathetic compared to the humans that it gets to know (fairly intimately).

I was surprised that a sizable portion of the book is written from the monster’s point of view, and it’s one of the highlights. I’m a sucker for body horror, and I was giddy with delight at the descriptions of the monster devouring people from the inside out. It’s simultaneously fun and disgusting. What makes it unique is that it isn’t focused on “pain” or “terror” which is typically told from the victim’s perspective, but rather from the creature’s POV of “delicious.” It’s joyously merciless.

While I liked the monster’s POV, I don’t think those scenes work for the narrative structure. The first half is told from Hank’s perspective as he figures out the details of the case. Then after a major cliffhanger, it changes into the monster’s POV showing how the deaths actually took place. But the problem is that it loses the momentum of the first half of the book. The reader already knows that these people are dead, and it doesn’t reveal a lot of new information. It goes on for too long to the point that after I flipped each page, I kept hoping that it would jump back to the present. But it takes up at least a third of the book, and it eventually felt like a drag. Perhaps the monster’s POV would have been better integrated into the story if it was dealing with present developments and alternated chapters with Hank’s POV.

The other issue I had was a plot hole. Considering what Thomas Blake knows about the monster, it doesn’t make sense why he hired Hank. Mr. Blake is an intelligent man, but hiring Hank just doesn’t seem to be in his interest. Mr. Blake has a lot of resources to draw on, so why Hank? This question bothered me as I read on, and that it was all I could think about during the last third of the book. Unfortunately, the ending doesn’t shed any light on Mr. Blake’s motivations, which makes the resolution quite unsatisfying.

There are many wonderful things about Symphony of Blood. The premise is fun, and the prose and characterizations are top-notch. You should take a look at this if you like private investigators, body horror, and dark humour. I enjoyed it, but the plot hole and the long monster POV section made for a distracting experience in the final part of the book. Even though this isn’t the most engaging novel I’ve read this year, Pepper is a promising writer, and I’m interested to see what other stories he has to offer.

Other reviews of this book: Science Fiction Addiction

You might like this if you like…
Eldritch abominations, shady urban characters, rough-around-the-edges private investigators, body horror, descriptive scenes of a monster devouring people from the inside out

It’s neat to note that J. A. Konrath liked this book: “Symphony of Blood hits like a sledgehammer.  Fast and furious.  I loved this book.”

Pepper also has several other books, but they’re only available as paperbacks. There’s a book about a muscle-bound fetus called Super Fetus. The cover says everything. You may want to check that out if you like bizarro fiction and black humour.

Death of a Kingdom by M. Edward McNally (2011)

Smashwords / Amazon / Author’s Site

4/5 stars

Description:
The Second Book of the Norothian Cycle, and the sequel to The Sable City.

After a narrow escape from the Sable City, Tilda and company have arrived in Souterm, where the Duchess Claudja is able to contact the Emperor and announce that her home realm of Chengdea has accepted the Code. While such an acceptance may stave-off invasion by Ayzantine forces, King Hughes of Daul will not take the betrayal well, and a new war threatens to erupt between the Empire and the River Kingdom.

Meanwhile, Nesha-tari learns that she must perform additional tasks for her Blue Dragon Master before she will be allowed to return home. Together with others in the Dragon’s service, the sorceress must enter the murderous world of Ayzant politics, where Crown, Church, and Cult vie for power.

Epic fantasy, Muskets & Magic. Historical fiction in a fictional world.

Review:
I really enjoyed The Sable City, and I’m pleased to say that Death of a Kingdom is even better. The Norothian Cycle series continues to be a fun throwback to the adventuring-party type of fantasy, filled with lively characters and playful trope subversion. While it retains some of the D&D flavour, there’s no dungeon crawling in this book. It turns its focus on the raging battles across the continent and takes a more serious tone. The gang’s all here—Tilda the kleptomaniac rogue, Phin the snarky mage, Shikashe the stoic samurai, et al.—with the exception of John Deskata who’s off in the Miilarkan Islands trying to keep it from imploding. There are new characters introduced too who are just as delightful as the rest of them.

It’s a joy to read McNally’s prose and it is definitely smoother compared to his debut. It continues to be heavy on the exposition, but while some of it used to detract from the action, now it enhances it. It’s especially notable with the fight scenes: it has memorable choreography while written with a snappy rhythm. There’s even a Completely Unnecessary Sword Duel; while it does nothing for the plot, it’s awesome and the author likely had as much fun writing it as I had reading it.

I still had some trouble with the world-building. There are a lot of names mentioned: persons and places, current and historical—and it’s a bit difficult to keep track of all the factions concerning the worlds of men, gods, and dragons. I’m no stranger to substantial world-building, I had a very clear vision of the factions in Frank Herbert’s Dune and George R. R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire series, but I can’t say the same here. While maybe 30-40% of the details were lost on me, I still understood the general thrust of the conflict.

The world itself continues to be captivating and dynamic, and has a sense of depth which perhaps could be attributed to the author’s history background. I really enjoyed getting to know more of the cultures, especially the entrepreneurial Miilarkans. The political developments around Chengdea is intriguing (the region pledges allegiance to a distant empire united by a shared constitution, of course that means war with its not-so-distant former king), and the bird’s-eye view of battle tactics are excellently portrayed and filled with the surprises of the real thing. It’s sprawling world, but it’s well-realized and it makes this series extra special.

I noticed a few typos (e.g. “then” instead of “than”), but they occur only a handful of times in this lengthy tome. What I noticed more often was the overuse of hyphens. Using hyphens in compound words can be a stylistic choice, but in my opinion, more than a few were unnecessary. Some words should have been solid compounds, and I don’t think hyphens need to be used if it won’t lead to ambiguity (e.g. “far-too expensive”, no hyphen needed there). But as you see, these are minor nitpicks.

Overall, I highly recommend Death of a Kingdom, especially if you’re looking for a fun fantasy adventure with a rich historical world setting, and a bit of a D&D flavour. I wish that the author was more ruthless in stamping out the occasional typo and reining in some of the excessive history backstory exposition, but everything else works so well that I consider this series a gem.

You might like this if you like…
The Sable City; dungeons and dragons; rich fictional-world history; an entertaining epic fantasy adventure

The third book of the series, The Wind From Miilark, was just recently published on Amazon and on Smashwords. Don’t you love speedy releases?

McNally also has a few short stories up on Smashwords. They’re not spec-fic, but they’re free!

Genesis Earth by Joe Vasicek (2011)

 Smashwords / Amazon / Author’s Site

3/5 stars

Description:
Michael Anderson is a teenage planetologist haunted by the fear that he will never live up to the legacy of his astrophysicist parents. Terra Beck is the outcast child of a bitter divorce, who only wants to run away and immerse herself in her one true passion: astronomy. Raised on a distant space station by the scientists who constructed mankind’s first artificial wormhole, neither has set foot on Earth.

When the scientists detect a mysterious signal from an Earthlike planet on the other side of the wormhole, Michael and Terra find themselves alone on an exploration mission to discover the signal’s source. They no sooner arrive at the system, however, than a mysterious alien ghost ship appears out of nowhere and begins to hunt them down. Alone, twenty light years from the nearest human being, they must learn to open up and trust each other—but how can they do that when one or both of them may be insane?

As Michael struggles to keep the mission from falling apart, he is forced to reexamine his deepest, most unquestioned beliefs about the universe—and about what it means to be human.

Review:
Genesis Earth is a space opera coming of age story. Michael and Terra are two young adults raised on Heinlein space station, and they’re charged with an important mission that could usher in a new era of space exploration. While they face the unknown, an innocent romance blooms between the two.

This book has a wonderful start. The conflict and paranoia between the two characters while they’re isolated in space is brilliantly done. I liked how they aren’t hyper-competent protagonists, but very flawed young people who happen to be on the most important mission for mankind. They take different approaches towards their obligations to the mission: while Terra considers herself free from expectations, Michael nearly collapses from the weight of his responsibilities. Their characterization and interactions are a strength of this book.

Vasicek’s prose and exposition are excellent. The pacing is slow, but it works in the story’s favour because it sets the mood and it makes the build-up fairly intense. The scene where the protagonists thaw from cryogenic sleep is particularly memorable. It’s heart-pounding and it really shows how fragile humans are out in the cold void of space.

While the first half is great, the book changes focus to something I couldn’t care much about. The big questions developed early on were meaty stuff: where should humanity go and what is the future of mankind? But instead of fully exploring those questions, the protagonist decides to shelve them and focus on carving out a life for himself.

The personal conflict of Michael deciding between what’s best for the mission and for his own life is actually good, and it’s not a conflict I often see in sci-fi. The problem is that Michael himself is uninteresting compared to the big questions that the story decides to ignore. I was willing to put up with Michael to see what he’d discover, but when he decides to focus on himself and his budding relationship with Terra, it’s hard to stifle the yawns. They’re the space equivalents of two young adults that have never left their small town: they’re boring. Do I care if they’d settle down and find a happily ever after? Not really. And it’s hard to take their romance seriously when there’s half a dozen unused Chekov’s guns littering the landscape.

I was also incredulous at Michael’s priorities. He finds a terrifying answer to the “future of mankind” question, and instead of pursuing it and possibly changing humanity’s fate, he decides to stick to the mission. I understand that he’s a strict-rule-abiding kind of guy, but I’m sure the folks back on Heinlein station would rather have him investigate that lead. I was surprised that Terra didn’t consider that a priority either. To be blunt, I thought that their subsequent accomplishments amounted to rearranging the furniture while the house burned down. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it bothered me that they didn’t recognize the weight of their decision.

Genesis Earth explores big sci-fi questions, but they eventually fade into the background as the puppy love between the two protagonists takes centre stage. Vasicek is a competent prose writer, he establishes the space setting really well, and he has good ideas. I’d like to see him tackle a concept-driven science fiction story. If you’re looking for a sci-fi adventure or one that thoroughly explores big questions, this isn’t it. But if you just want a coming of age story with a bit of romance set in space, this might be up your alley.

Other reviews of this book: Science Fiction Addiction

You might like this if you like…
The terrifying loneliness of the universe; innocent romance between two young adults in space

If you’re interested in more free ebooks, it’s neat to know that Vasicek has several on Smashwords. There’s a novel and a handful of short stories mostly in the genre of science fiction, so those may be worth a look.

The Silence of Medair by Andrea K. Höst (2010)

Smashwords / Amazon / Author’s Site

4/5 stars

Description:
Time stole victory.

Medair an Rynstar returned too late to drive back the Ibisian invasion. Centuries too late.

When friend and enemy have become the same thing, what use are the weapons Medair planned to use to protect her Empire? There is no magic, no artefact, no enchanted trinket which can undo the past.

But no matter how Medair wishes to hide from the consequences of her failure, there are those who will not allow her the luxury of denying the present. Her war is already lost, but she carries weapons which could change the course of new battles.

With the skirmishes of war beginning, and hunters in near pursuit, it is her conscience Medair cannot escape. Whose side should she be on? What is she really running from?

Review:
A lot of fantasy involves a hero on a fetch quest to save the kingdom from invading hordes. But what if the hero failed? This is exactly the beginning of this book.

The central premise is amazing and makes this book stand out from its contemporaries. Epic fantasy as a subgenre seems to like its epic wars and the threat of invasion, but it doesn’t concern itself much with a logical consequence of war—colonialism. Medair fetches the Horn of Farak, but she dooms her kingdom when she falls asleep in an enchanted labyrinth. She wakes up five hundred years later to find that her homeland is no longer hers. The Ibisian invaders now rule the lands, and Medair’s disappearance and the collapse of her kingdom has become the stuff of legend. Her kingdom’s people mostly have been wiped out, or they’re of mixed blood and identify themselves as Ibisians.

Medair is on the wrong side of history, and has to come to terms with her homeland as a colonized space. What more is that she still has the powerful artefact that is capable of nothing less than genocide. While she hides her true identity, different factions pull her into escalating wars. She has to decide whether to side with her invaders, and what justice really means in this new context. So yes, plenty of engaging ideas there.

The narrative is introspective and filled with flashbacks, but it works so well because Medair is such a complex heroine. She is deeply loyal to her dead kingdom, feels disgust towards the Ibisians, but is also a very compassionate human being. The rest of the cast is interesting even if mysterious, and the rich dialogue is filled with carefully chosen words and courtly intrigue. Every moment changes her relationship with the Ibisians, creating an intense build up to her final decision which could alter the fate of her homeland.

Höst’s intricate prose and world-building is a joy to sink into. I wanted to race through the pages because I couldn’t wait to see how the story unfolds, but I forced myself savour each word. I stopped to re-read scenes several times because they were so emotionally powerful and I wanted to hold on to the moment. But it’s quite possible that I sympathized with Medair so much that I also felt her sense of dread.

I love how this story brings a historical understanding of culture and politics to an epic fantasy setting. It’s very refreshing compared to some of the epic fantasy I’ve read over the years where different factions are racially essentialized into a couple of simplistic traits, are forever foes, and are unchanging for millennia. But I thought this novel approaches race as more of a social construct–a fluid category. Medair notes the subtle differences in pigmentation and body type, which may be may be significant for neighbouring peoples turned colonizer and colonized, but perhaps not that significant to someone outside of those countries. Different ethnicities are described with certain attributes, but the attributes are ultimately cultural. As Medair notices, culture mixes and changes over time, and that changes how she relates to the Ibisians.

It’s also interesting how Medair becomes a political symbol. An extremist group calls themselves Medarists, and their goal is to overthrow Ibisian power and put any person with Ibisian blood into slavery. They’re also waiting for Medair’s fabled return and consequent call to arms. I liked the disconnect between the politics-using-the-person-as-a-symbol, and the actual politics of the person herself. The only other story I recall seeing this point of view is from Ursula K. Le Guin’s short story “The Day Before the Revolution”, but Medair isn’t an aging revolutionary–she wants nothing to do with the movement named after her. I liked the inclusion of this group, and I thought they added more depth to the politics of this world.

It took a few chapters for it to really grab me, and I wanted more from the plot because I felt like it was just the beginning of something bigger. Some of the formal titles of the nobility are hard to remember because they’re similar and all start with the letter K, but these are very minor complaints. This book may be too introspective and brooding for some, but the earnest emotional core, original ideas, and beautiful prose definitely makes it re-read material for me.

The Silence of Medair is an intelligent, absorbing, and poignant fantasy novel. Readers should take note of this work, especially if you’re interested in an epic fantasy or a memorable heroine. It’s an excellent read and it’s highly recommended.

You might like this if you like…
Conflicted and complex protagonists, less action and more introspection, a rich epic fantasy that you can sink into

It’s crazy how this book was stuck in a publishing house bucreacracy for 10 years until the author decided to self-publish it. It was then nominated for the 2010 Aurealis Awards, an award for speculative fiction books from Australian authors. It’s books like these which make me feel blessed for living in the era of e-publishing. The sequel, Voice of the Lost, has just been released this past week. Speedy releases! I love e-publishing.

This is a recommendation that jumps genres, but I have a feeling that readers who enjoyed The Last Man on Earth Club by Paul R. Hardy would also enjoy this book and vice versa. They’re quite different but they share similar strengths: an absorbing introspective tone, fresh ideas that rethink the tropes in their genres, and intelligent concepts that leave the reader pondering long after.

Polly! by Stephen Goldin (2008)

Smashwords / Amazon / Author’s Site

4/5 stars

Description:
Herodotus Shapiro has had an unbelievably bad week. His wife left him. The IRS is after him for thousands of dollars. His home/bookstore burned down. On his way to take refuge at his brother’s place he got a speeding ticket. And now his car has broken down in the middle of the desert in front of a large mansion. What more can go wrong?

But now his world takes a turn for the weird. The mansion has a snowman on the front lawn–in the desert in July. The house, which is bigger on the inside than on the outside, is owned by Polly, the most preternaturally beautiful young woman he’s ever met. Polly is an acrobat, a gourmet chef, a psychologist, an international financial consultant, a physicist and a woman of who-knows how many other incredible talents. She has an unbelievable library, an art collection of all the world’s great masterpieces and a print of a previously unknown Marx Brothers film. Her toilet paper is actually silk.

And she seems to have some mysterious plans for him….

Review:

“That’s the way the universe works. Not random at all. The universe is passive-aggressively hostile.”

– Polly (she who may or may not be God)

Polly! is a quirky contemporary fantasy with a hopeful message. It follows Herodotus, a middle-aged man down on his luck, as he undergoes a process of rediscovery upon meeting the enigmatic Polly. The story is comparable to the Frank Capra film It’s a Wonderful Life, but it speaks to non-religious skeptics and has a weirdness that makes it more interesting. It’s never clear what Polly is, but she fights entropy, gives some serious tough love, and has plenty of thoughts on dealing with a passive-aggressively hostile universe.

The reader follows Herod’s journey from sorrow to renewed hope and wonder. Goldin’s prose is really enjoyable, it moves quickly with just enough description to make a scene memorable. The pacing is smooth, there’s never a dull moment, and it’s always engaging and unpredictable. There’s some offbeat humour which helps lighten the mood, and all of it feels natural to the story and Herod’s point of view.

While there’s only two major characters, they’re done excellently: Herod is a sympathetic everyman and Polly is vibrant force to be reckoned with. Another aspect I liked was the timelessness of the setting and the themes–it could be set any time in the next thirty years and it would still feel contemporary.

The worst part of the book has nothing to do with its contents—it’s the cover. The cover is confusing to potential readers, and Polly doesn’t even look like that. But hey, don’t judge a book by its cover. Polly has a French maid that is funny but a bit too over the top, and there’s a line or two or dialogue that rubbed me the wrong way, but those are insignificant nitpicks.

I advice checking out the longer sample at Smashwords to see if you like Herod and Polly and its agnostic themes. The book is filled with interactions between these two characters getting all Socratic-method style discussing life, the universe, and everything else. Polly pulls out all the stops on her criticism of organized religion, so if that’s not up your alley, well yeah, you’d think it’s blasphemous. It’s a quirky book that’s not going to appeal to everyone, but I enjoyed the ride and it made me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

You might like this if you like…
Agnostics and atheists; a giant house with the craziest interior design; tips on dealing with a passive-aggressive universe; lots of dialogue

If military SF is more up your alley, I have also reviewed Goldin’s The Eternity Brigade. If reviewing books in exchange for reading them for free is up your alley (like it is mine), the author has a “Review One, Get One” program. He’s got an extensive backlist so there’s plenty of books to choose from.