FALCON BLUE

by Rebecca Lochlann

438 pages, Erinyes Press

Review by Melissa Conway

Falcon Blue is book six in author Rebecca Lochlann’s eight-book mythic historical fantasy series Child of the Erinyes. This is the epic story of Athene’s Wanderers reborn into the Early Middle Ages following their first incarnation in the Bronze Age.

Eamhair is the only daughter of Bericus, brutal chieftain of the fortress of Dunaedan, perched high on the wind-swept northwestern cliffs of Gaelic Scotland. Promised to the king when she was an infant, her reputation among men has been deliberately cultured by her father as that of a “goddess among women.” Despite this deception, her true status is that of a lowly servant, with no more value to her father than that of a bartering tool. To countermand her bleak existence and even bleaker future, Eamhair clings to the fanciful tales of magic her mother regaled her with as a child – that the Seolh-king would someday come to take her away to his kingdom in the sea. She attributes her mother’s influence to her occasional glimpses behind the veil of an incorporeal place, completely unaware that she was once Aridela, Queen of Crete.

When Cailean, a mysterious blue-eyed warrior from a foreign land arrives at the fortress atop his imposing stallion Bharosa and accompanied by his wolf Vita, Eamhair is immediately struck by an intangible sensation of familiarity. Cailean himself is inexplicably enchanted by the untouchable daughter of his new lord. Like her, he has no recollection of his prior life as Menoetius.

At the same time, unbeknownst to either of them, a monk named Taranis has also found his way to Dunaedan. He’s been skulking in the hidden passages of the fortress, stalking Eamhair. Of the three, he’s the only one whose memories of his life as Chrysaleon of Mycenae are intact, but this impossible knowledge drives him to the brink of insanity. He cannot resist his undying obsession with Aridela – born in this time as Eamhair.

As each of them struggle to reconcile these otherworldly notions, Harpalycus is drawn to Dunaedan and Eamhair as surely as Cailean and Taranis were. After centuries jumping from body to body in an orgy of malevolent indulgence, he is now masquerading as Fathna, powerful brother to the king, and is determined to seize the opportunity to even the score with the hapless trio.

In true Rebecca Lochlann feminist fashion, Falcon Blue immerses the reader in an entangled saga of magic, eternal life, and divine prophecy, while shining harsh light on male dominance throughout history. As always, her novels are highly recommended by this reviewer.

SQUAWK OF THE YEAR

Wherein we squawk about our favorite books from 2016.

Bill Kirton:

A lot of my 2016 reading was escapist – stories by the best sellers who’ve earned their reputations as reliable providers of thrills, suspense, twists and satisfaction and who don’t need reviews from me to confirm their excellence. On the other hand, there were others who had nothing like the exposure of these big boys and girls and yet who produced highly individual, accomplished novels which deserve a wider readership. Black Sheep Boy is one of them.

I bought it on the recommendation of a friend, otherwise I don’t think it would have registered on my radar. As the title suggests, it’s a series of episodes in a life, but a life far removed from that of a comfortable old guy living in Scotland. The first person narrator is a young boy who lives in the Louisiana bayou and, as well as sharing his personal pains and pleasures with us, he evokes this highly individual context and its customs. Throughout, the fact that he is, as the blurb warns us, ‘small, weak, effeminate’, frequently creates conditions, oppositions and alliances which set him at odds with that same culture with its fixed notions of how men and women should be.

So the exoticism of the content is already fascinating to a reader far removed from its everyday manifestations, but the main power of the book is the voice in which it’s related and the way he shares with us the discoveries his experiences bring to him. The rhythms and music of the prose, the delicacy of the images he conjures up, and the beautiful mix of ‘normal’ English and the gentle patois of the bayou are captivating. Interest never wavers, from the simplest stories he recounts to the questions of identity he asks of others and himself as he grows into and struggles to understand and withstand the dilemmas and threats posed by his sexuality and his gender. Themes of mysticism, justice, impotence and survival weave through it all, taking different guises in the various relationships he forms and experiences he enjoys and/or endures.

And, in the end, so closely do we empathise with his thoughts and feelings that the specificity of his sexual and gender-related issues broadens into reflections on identity and purpose which relate to the whole process of how we become who we are and continue to evolve through more of its iterations. It’s beautiful, thought-provoking, essentially human and an excellent read.

Pat Black:

I thoroughly enjoyed Frances Larson's Severed, a grisly but compelling history of decapitation. I also loved Peter Hill's memoirs of his time working on Scottish lighthouses, Stargazing.

But the blue rosette goes to a book I haven't reviewed - I, Partridge, by Alan Partridge. The audiobook is narrated in-character by Steve Coogan and was probably the funniest book I've ever come across. As if I needed to look any more of a lunatic on the morning commute. Eat my goal! 

Marc Nash:

I had a year of big thick post-modern works and lots of non-English fiction in translation.

Most of the Po-Mo was pretty disappointing with the honourable exception of Sergio de la Pava's "A NakedSingularity", but it was the non-English fiction that blew me away this year. Valeria Luiselli's "The Story Of My Teeth" was good fun, both of Yuri Herrera's 100 page novels were very evocative and lyrical in their brevity. Both of those authors are Mexican. But the winner was Korean author Kan Hang's "The Vegetarian" which despite a completely redundant third section, parts one and two were so stunning and beautiful and haunting that the limp part 3 simply didn't matter. Highly recommended. 

Worst read of the year Gillian Slovo's "Ten Days" purportedly about the London riots of 2011 in which just a single rioter makes an appearance and he's rescuing a child from a burning building. utterly misses the point. 

Melissa Conway:

After a lifetime spent reading whenever a spare moment presents, I’m lately in this weird bubble of book avoidance, with the excuse that I simply can’t spare the time. I didn’t read much in 2016, but even if I had, my year’s best pick would have stood out from the rest. Rebecca Lochlann’s The Sixth Labyrinth is the first book in the second Child of the Erinyes trilogy, a love triangle driven by divine destiny to be reincarnated through the ages. Great writing, highest recommendation.

J.S. Colley:

My have-read list for 2016 is woefully short. I will mention HillbillyElegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis by J. D. Vance.  The author’s family moved from addiction-ridden Appalachia to Ohio, where he was able to overcome his inherited geography and make it to Yale Law School. Although it didn’t fully live up to my expectations, it came close.

I’m currently reading Nineveh by Henrietta Rose-Innes, published by the newly-formed Aardvark Bureau, about South Africa’s only “ethical pest removal specialist.” So far, I’m enjoying it. Perhaps I’ll write a review when I’m finished.

I wish you all happy reading in the new year!

EMERGENCE

by David R. Palmer
291 pages, Bantam 1984

Review by Melissa Conway

When I first began composing this review I wished I could sit down and have a little chat with David R. Palmer. He wrote one of my all-time favorite novels, followed that up with a second effort that apparently fell short of the first one’s promise (although I didn’t think so), and then…faded into oblivion.

“Mr. Palmer,” I’d say, “I waited and waited and you let me down. I was a teen when I first read Emergence; a highly impressionable, intelligent girl with a boundless imagination. You got into my head somehow with the character of Candy—so much so that I envisioned myself in her shoes. That’s some powerful stuff for you to be able to write like that. And then you stopped. Why?”

My assumption was that he’d simply moved on to other things. Just because I wouldn’t dream of quitting once I finally got my foot in the publishing door, doesn’t mean all writers feel that way. The author blurb at the back of my yellowed and battered copy of Emergence says that apart from lots of reading, Palmer has experienced quite a few adventures of his own: diving, motorcycling, sailing. I figured he’d done the award-winning novel thing, shrugged and moved on.

On a lark, I popped over to Amazon and -whoa! What a surprise I found. Under the reviews for Emergence appeared a special message written on April 4, 2008 by Palmer himself. He wanted to let his loyal fans know that after more than 25 years, the sequel to Emergence was published in three parts in Analog magazine. More, Palmer said, “A movie option has been sold for "Emergence"; a screenplay now exists. The efforts of anyone who wishes to join me in breath-holding and finger-crossing will be appreciated.”

It’s been two years since that message appeared and I haven’t heard the faintest whisper that an actual movie is in the works. I hope he didn’t hold his breath. The entertainment industry is fickle. I’ve heard of books being turned into screenplays and then never making it past the pre-production stage. That’s the way it is. We think we’ve won the lottery when an agent takes us on, but then we need to buy another ticket for the ‘editor’ draw. If we get past that hurdle, then it’s ‘will the publisher allocate enough marketing dollars to put my book in front of the right people?’ It goes on, and we get cramps in our fingers from crossing them so tightly and so often.

I doubt my little review here on Booksquawk will help much, but if you haven’t read Emergence, do. As Palmer exhorts in his message, “Tell two friends; ask them to tell two friends, etc. Repeat this to a depth of 20 conversations and you've alerted over a million friends.”

Emergence is a story about a post-apocalyptic society of one: highly intelligent Candy Smith-Foster thinks she’s the only person left alive on the earth after a bionuclear war. The novelty is that the book is written in first-person point of view in Palmer’s particular brand of shorthand; Candy is keeping a journal as she travels across what’s left of America searching for survivors, accompanied by her ‘retarded adoptive twin brother,’ a Hyacinthine Macaw named Terry. Surprisingly, it doesn’t take long at all for the reader to become accustomed to the lack of pronouns, etc. in Candy’s shorthand narrative. Palmer’s day-job is as a court reporter, which explains this experimental, and in my opinion successful, writing form. (There are some who may find it off-putting at first, but within a short while you won’t even miss the left-out words. Our minds fill in the blanks automatically, knid of lkie wehn wrods are jmubeld aournd but we can sitll raed tehm.)

I’ve known a lot of smart people. They’re all over the place; sometimes where you least expect to find them. It’s entirely plausible to me that a court reporter from Florida wrote a book about a genius and pulled it off. Clearly, Palmer is smarter than the average bear. So why, if he’s so smart, didn’t he ride the wave of initial success from Emergence and become another (smarter) Stephen King? I’m guessing life got in the way, because intelligence doesn’t guarantee success (using the traditional definition of success—the ultimate triad: rich, famous and respected—happiness, the more difficult-to-measure definition of a successful life, has more to do with personality than intelligence…but I digress).

Emergence was written in the time before computers were commonplace, before DNA was a household acronym and before cell phones grew out of teenagers’ heads. The technological references within are dated and the 1980’s came and went without a nuclear war. For anyone who might avoid the book for these reasons, I say: So what? Imagine that the events unfold in an alternate timeline. And enjoy. Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll see it on the big screen some day soon…

THE SIXTH LABYRINTH

Book Four, The Child of the Erinyes

by Rebecca Lochlann

562 pages, Erinyes Press

Review by Melissa Conway

I was given an advanced reading copy of this novel. I am also acquainted with the author through social media, however, that is not an admission that this review is biased. If I don’t like an author’s writing, I won’t finish reading it, and because I’m loath to do anything that might compromise my professional integrity, I wouldn’t dream of giving a positive review to a book that didn’t deserve it.

The Sixth Labyrinth is the second offering in the second trilogy of Rebecca Lochlann’s the Child of the Erinyes series.  At 562 pages, it is a BIG novel with three books included, The Reunion, The Discovery, and The Pilgrimage. Readers who enjoy immersing themselves in epic novels will appreciate this installment.

In the first trilogy, we met the bold princess torn between two compelling men, one dark, one light. This threesome, as well as several other characters in their orbit, is cursed by the goddess Athene to be reincarnated repeatedly over the course of thousands of years. Seven lifetimes they are fated to live, through prosperity and hardship, trust and betrayal, love and heartbreak, until they appease Athene for humanity’s loss of faith in her.

This incarnation takes place in the mist-shrouded Scottish highlands of the nineteenth century. Our princess is now a lass named Morrigan, working under the crushing thumb of her father in a humble inn. Morrigan tries to be a dutiful daughter, but her adventurous spirit tempts her with fanciful thoughts of exotic people and places. Her father’s heart is dark, tainted by the brutal Clearings that killed Morrigan’s mother in childbirth. Not only must she submit to his vicious idea of discipline, but she is tormented by horrendous nightmares and plagued by headaches and fainting spells, unaware that these are flashes of memory from her former lives.

Feminism is a concept that appears throughout Lochlann’s writing. In the princess’s first life, she lived in a thriving matrilineal society that worshiped Athene, but in subsequent lives she is subjected to the abuses men heaped upon women throughout history. We get tantalizing glimpses into the beginning of the end of this unfairness through the author’s description of the political climate of late nineteenth century Britain that led to the formation of the women’s suffrage movement.

The Sixth Labyrinth is fairly bursting with historical detail. Not only does Lochlann boast some impressive researching skills, but she’s got the uncommon ability to build a vivid sense of place and time without making the reader’s eyes glaze over from too much description. Her other strength is her gift for weaving enchantment into the story; the prose is steeped in mysticism, adroitly drawing the reader into the characters’ emotions and temperament.

The pervading atmosphere, even during moments of joy, is somber, and the tension builds slowly through action and reaction. The story has elements of horror, from that which underlies the struggle of daily life, as well as through the paranormal aspect of dark magic as our princess and her lovers are pursued through time by a malevolent sorcerer.  The suspense is amplified layer by layer until it all comes crashing down in a shocking, yet satisfying conclusion.

Highly recommended.

SERVE IN HELL

by Georgia Gunn
231 pages, Kindle Edition

Review by Melissa Conway

I received an ARC of this manuscript, and have an online acquaintance with the author.

Sometimes when I sit down to write a review, the book in question inspires me to want to simply say, “Just go read it. Trust me, you’ll love it.” That’s definitely the case with Georgia Gunn’s unique, intelligent mystery novel with a twist – it takes place in Hell.

In death, as she was in life, Molly Wallace is a twenty-something waitress-slash-wannabe-actress. She works in a diner, ‘lives’ frugally, and does her best to avoid the attention of the many and varied demons who rule over Hell. That’s easier said than done, however, because demons are everywhere; from the small ones with little influence (but plenty of nastiness), to the older, powerful, and infinitely more frightening ones.

Demons need dead souls like Molly to help them run the place, and they keep them in line through swift and brutal punishment. The hierarchy among demons is simple: strength equals power. The powerful demons don’t much concern themselves with the little ones, except to use them, or eat them, however it may please. Usually, they wouldn’t notice or care if a little demon went missing, but in this case, the suspect is Josh, a fresh arrival in Hell. When he’s taken away, Molly feels responsible because she’d given him some advice that was overheard and interpreted as his possible motive.

As much as her instincts tell her to stay out of it; she can’t because she knows he’s not guilty. But how does one puny, uninfluential dead human suss out the truth in a place like Hell?

Very cleverly, as it happens.

Serve in Hell is well-written, with ingenious worldbuilding, a tight plot, and sympathetic characters. Highly recommended.

 

IN THE MOON OF ASTERION

by Rebecca Lochlann
Kindle Edition, Erinyes Press

Review by Melissa Conway

Full disclosure: I know Rebecca Lochlann through social media, and was privileged to be a beta reader of this manuscript, which she provided to me free for the purpose. I am under no obligation to review the novel, nor am I under any pressure to say nice things. In fact, the only pressure I’m under is to write a review that does the book justice!

It’s difficult to write a review for the third book in a series without touching on plot points in the first two that would amount to spoilers for anyone who hasn’t read them. But if you have read them (and you really should), you’ll understand why I’ve excerpted the following from dictionary.com:

Tragedy [traj-i-dee], noun. A dramatic composition, often in verse, dealing with a serious or somber theme, typically that of a great person destined through a flaw of character or conflict with some overpowering force, as fate or society, to downfall or destruction.

In The Moon of Asterion may be the grand finale of The Child of the Erinyes trilogy, but as the author points out in the blurb for the first book, “What seems the end is only the beginning.”

The mythological Erinyes are more commonly known as Furies; goddesses of the earth, the incarnation of vengeance on those who have sworn false oaths. From the name of the series alone we expect to read of classically tragic, legendary matters - and Lochlann does not disappoint. However, as it turns out, the scope of the legend is grander than a single trilogy can portray. The first trilogy is set in the Bronze Age, but it’s the first in a series, or perhaps the better description would be to call it a saga that continues through time - eventually to the present day.

In the first three books, our main players are known as Aridela, princess of Crete; Chrysaleon, son of the High King of Mycenae; and Menoetius, his bastard brother. The complicated relationship between them is not that of a mere love triangle - no, the nature of the bond between the brothers makes their situation uniquely bleak, with a divine twist of epic proportions.

Themiste, the prophetess whose job it has been to interpret her own visions and those of others, is given hints throughout the narrative from the goddess Athene regarding the importance of this bond:

Aridela told me she looked first at Menoetius then Chrysaleon, and for one strange instant, she said they merged into each other, and wore each other’s faces. Then the voice said more.

“I have split one into two. Mortal men have burned my shrines and pulled down my statues. Their arrogance has upended the holy ways. I decree that men will resurrect me or the earth will die.”

So much in this book rides on each character making the right choices, and yet, always the wants and desires of humanity assert themselves, leaving them seemingly blind to the big picture. And here is where I begin to verge on giving too much away. I don’t want to spoil the ending with this review; just perhaps prepare the reader for the shocking, yet ultimately satisfying finish. All I can say is that as a reader, I was captivated, caught up in a boiling whirlpool pulling me toward the inevitable conclusion. Now that I’ve reached the end, I can’t wait for the next beginning.

THE GIRL OF FIRE AND THORNS

by Rae Carson

423 pages, Greenwillow Books

Review by Melissa Conway

I’ve lately become a staunch supporter of flawed heroines, especially since the more politically correct reader/reviewers among us seem to have decided that female protagonists in young adult literature should portray only the best of characteristics; those we would like to encourage our own children to develop. These readers don’t seem to want their daughters to equate with the literary loser - the passive protagonist that makes bad decisions. As if the best way to teach self-esteem is to shun those with self-doubt.

As a writer, I was taught that not only must my main character overcome whatever external force is driving the plot, that character should grow/change/learn something valuable by the end of the story. A character that remains unchanged internally is considered one-dimensional and unrelatable.

We all know that reading, as more than just entertainment, is a way to escape the narrow confines of our world, to learn about other people and places, be they real or fantastical. Reading introduces us to characters that may not respond to a situation in the same way we might (or in the way we think we might). It’s perfectly fine to become annoyed with a character - it might even be an emotion the author has deliberately coaxed out of you - but I don’t understand the urge to criticize a character because s/he is not strong, smart and uncomplaining. A role model from the moment s/he is introduced.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: there’s a difference between preference and intolerance. For a reader to prefer that a heroine be strong is one thing; for them to be intolerant of a heroine that is flawed (or starts out flawed) is another thing altogether.

Rae Carson, in her debut YA Fantasy, The Girl of Fire andThorns, has created a main character that starts out weak, naïve and, well, okay, she’s stoic, I’ll grant her that - but as a substitute for complaining, she stuffs her face with food.

Here are some of the comments from low-star Amazon reviewers: “When I first picked up this book I had hopes for a strong female lead and what I got was a very weak character who didn't grown (sic) up until the very end of the book.” “Had a terrible time relating with the main character and getting into the novel.” “Instead I found her to be weak, whiny, and unmotivated. I would rather have a strong female lead take this role.”

What frustrates me about the naysayers here is that they don’t appear willing to acknowledge that an individual’s personality, whether in fiction or real life, is shaped by more than just that person’s strength of will. We aren’t born perfect, and exterior forces do more than just sweep us along with the plot (or our lives) - they influence us - how we see ourselves in our world. Carson’s main character is deliberately kept naïve by her own family. Once freed from their ‘protection,’ however, she slowly throws off the bonds of self-doubt and self-destructiveness and grows strong. I loved that about her.

Other criticism leveled against this book had to do with the heavy underlying religious theme. Here, although the religion in question is not Christianity per se, it is a close equivalent on a fictional world. One reviewer said, “We all have tastes. Personally, I tend not to like fiction that has religious faith as a major theme. It's not my thing.” In this, I feel that the line between preference and tolerance blurs a bit, but not much. I’m not particularly religious, but I had no problem reading about the devout society in this book. Again, the main character was raised that way, she was taught to believe, and incidentally, she questions her own faith constantly, especially as magic figures more and more prominently. In fact, I suspect the subsequent books in the planned trilogy might even address the concept of religious doctrine as an invention to explain the unknown.

(Perhaps the negative reviews in this instance might have largely been avoided if the book jacket were more forthcoming about the religious theme. I encountered a similar ploy by the publishers of Ash, who didn’t make it clear on the jacket that the story was a lesbian retelling of Cinderella. Those purchasing the book in a bookstore would have no way of knowing that salient fact - I certainly didn’t - but in my case at least, it wasn’t a big deal.)

Now that I’ve gotten all that off my chest, on to the story! Oh, wait, first I must mention that the narrative is told in first-person present - another thing readers seem to feel strongly one way or the other about, but which doesn’t bother me a whit as long as it’s done well - as it is here.

The Girl of the title is Elisa, the younger of two princesses. She is overweight and describes herself as not pretty, but the reader gets the impression Elisa’s unattractiveness is merely how she sees herself. Her older sister, who will be queen one day, is clever and decisive, athletic and beautiful - all the traits a younger sister would naturally envy and reluctantly admire. Elisa has a few things going for her, one of which is a formidable intelligence - oh, and there’s the little matter of the Godstone that was divinely placed in her navel when she was baptized.

The Godstone is awarded to one person every hundred years or so, and is much prized for its intrinsic power. Exactly what that power entails is kept from Elisa, who is quite suddenly married off to a neighboring king at the tender age of sixteen. She’s thrust into this foreign environment just as a vast horde of barbarians, led by fearsome and evil animagi, is poised to invade her new husband’s country.

Our poor, uncertain Elisa cannot fathom why she was chosen to be the bearer of the Godstone. She vaguely knows she has a destiny to fulfill, and luckily, her new situation gives her the opportunity to seek out just what it is that she should be prepared for. She’s soon thrust into a dangerous adventure that tests her true mettle, and reveals she isn’t so useless after all...

I very much enjoyed this novel and am looking forward to the sequel.

THE THINARA KING

Child of the Erinyes
by Rebecca Lochlann
286 pages, Erinye Press

Review by Melissa Conway

I am acquainted with the author via social networking, which should in no way be construed as an admission that the following review is biased. If I don’t like a book, I won’t finish reading it no matter who wrote it. And, just so you know, there was never a chance that I might not finish this one, and not because of any sense of obligation. This is the second book in the Child of the Erinyes series, the first of which, The Year God’s Daughter, I reviewed here - and you can see by my enthusiasm I was eagerly awaiting the sequel.

We take up where the first novel left off (and it would be a major spoiler for the first book if I told you exactly where that was), but the brief idyll in princess Aridela’s young life is to be short-lived. With the violent suddenness only a mega-burp in the earth’s crust can dish up, her lush and peaceful home island of Crete is assaulted by a deadly pyroclastic blast from the volcanic island of Callisti, seventy miles away. Aridela and the newly crowned bull-king Chrysaleon barely survive, and to make matters worse, she believes she is the one who caused the devastation by angering the goddess Athene.

Author Lochlann does a fine job describing the destruction: inescapable waves of blistering heat and choking ash; the endless series of earthquakes and resulting tsunamis. The survivors are soon subjected to even more horror at the hands of a vengeful and opportunistic conqueror from the mainland, whose soldiers overrun the embattled island and pillage what little is left of the once proud and mighty civilization.

These are dark days for Aridela - sometimes graphically so; what she endures is not euphemistically portrayed - but deep inside she clings to the hope that she can withstand the abuse and prevail in order to appease Athene and restore freedom to her remaining people. Chrysaleon, too, endures much. On the verge of death, he has visions of an out-of-body journey to the heavenly land of the gods that enlightens him to his new status as The Thinara King - the one man with the power to change the destiny of everyone in the mortal world. But will he choose the right path?

I don’t want to give too much away. Let me just say in closing that this series is my new addiction. Lochlann is a meticulous writer, and I predict that the outpouring of accolades she is already receiving from her readers will eventually give her a well-deserved boost onto the best-seller lists.

THE HALO REVELATIONS

by J.S. Colley
Kindle Edition

Review by Melissa Conway

I am acquainted with J.S. Colley through social networking, and was privileged to be a beta reader of this manuscript. She is also the most recent writer to have been invited to be a Booksquawk contributor. Neither of these facts should be taken as an admission that the following review is biased; I strive to be objective when I write reviews for the books of people I know.

The Halo Revelations is an intellectual thriller that blends fact and fiction on a grander scale than the works of Dan Brown. Here we confront the science fiction (or, depending on which conspiracy theorist you ask, the science fact) of our planet’s denizens having not only been visited on numerous occasions in the past by aliens from outer space, but guided by them throughout civilization. To persuade the reader to accept this notion, Colley offers up popular alternative extraterrestrial interpretation of the meaning behind items of ancient artwork such as the Drōpa stones and structures like the pyramids and Nazca lines.

The story is told through multiple points of view. We are most often in the head of young Nick, son of an archaeologist whose body has finally been recovered ten years after his disappearance in the Himalayan Mountains. Nick’s reactivated sorrow is tempered by his mortification when someone posts a video of his father that makes him seem like a raving UFO lunatic. His father had been dabbling in the dubious art of archeo-astronomy, plus, he was working with Henry Applegate, the infamous alien-conspiracy-theory author. Nick’s mother Liz doesn’t want anything to do with Henry, and doesn’t know that Nick has secretly been friends with the reclusive old man during the ten years his father has been missing.

Without giving out too many spoilers, Bad Things Happen and the NSA (National Security Agency) becomes involved. Our second main protagonist (or antagonist from Nick’s perspective) is Agent Ronnie Vagnetti, whose job specialty is to “gather intelligence on unusual archeological discoveries and phenomenon - discoveries that might have a profound effect on society.” Vagnetti and Nick are in search of the same thing: the strange object seen in the video with Nick’s dad before he disappeared.

Rumors and speculation about the object abound and it’s soon clear that the bulk of these conjectures are deliberate misdirection by one or more unknown, powerful entities with a keen - and dangerous - interest in the object and the information it may or may not hold.

The characters in this, Colley’s first novel, are well-drawn and sympathetic. One of the central themes - that of history itself having been manipulated by the powers-that-be in any given timeframe - is convincing. If you’re a fan of Dan Brown, I recommend you give The Halo Revelations a try.

SUCKERPUNCH

by Pat Black

Smashwords Edition

Review by Melissa Conway

It’s kind of hard for me to write about Pat Black without gushing. He’s been one of the mainstays at Booksquawk – we just posted his 102^nd review – and his fans can always count on a witty, honest and thorough opinion of whatever book has lately been under his microscope. I’ve read and enjoyed several of his short stories at McStorytellers, and when I heard he’d published an anthology, Suckerpunch, I immediately purchased it with the intention of reviewing it here. I don't often read short stories, but my reading time has been severely limited of late, thus fragmenting my reading time for any given novel and disrupting overall comprehension. Pat's literary 'sound bites' were just what the doctor ordered!

There are thirty-seven stories within, a mixture of fiction genres from Literary to Horror to Sci-fi. Below, I give an abbreviated description of each one in true Pat Black review style.

Bite ~ A poignant glimpse at the bond between a terminally ill father and his grown son as they watch what might seem to be one of the least likely movies to get sentimental over: Jaws. This story ended at the perfect moment; just at the first sting of tears.

Maggie Murphy’s Home for Bad Boys ~ Little boys are universally curious, which is often mistaken for naughtiness. Here, an active six-year-old stays with his elderly gran while his parents are on holiday, and gets into the kind of mischief only the threat of being sent to Maggie Murphy’s Home for Bad Boys can dampen – or can it?

Liberating Lennie ~ The prospect of cooking dinner can be a brutal affair from a child’s perspective, but the feisty kids in this story are on Lennie the Lobster’s side.

Fault Scars ~ A rough trip up a mountain, with a surprise purpose.

The Pearl Divers ~ Lovers on a pleasure cruise; warm, bright blue water and a close encounter with a Greek tragedy.

The Dragon in the Water ~ A boy with a penchant for vivid fantasies discovers that sometimes our imaginings can be tame in comparison to what life has in store.

Windowboxes ~ What better setting for a creepy ghost story than the husk of a building on the verge of being demolished on a cold, dark night?

Muffy ~ Overgrown grass sometimes shelters the strangest things out in the garden...

Wake ~ Pedaling out on the ocean with Dad; awkward conversation, mild irritation and a selfless act of desperate bravery.

Shall we do it Boy-Girl Boy-Girl? ~ A slice of bachelor life complete with drunken evening out with co-workers and the resignation of unrequited feelings.

Fachtna’s Wall ~ School's out - forever - and generations of former classmates have an opportunity to reminisce and say goodbye to the place that seems so much smaller now that they're grown. Legendary teachers leave impressions on young minds; sometimes deep, like a disfiguring scar...

The Waystation ~ Evidence of an ancient civilization on a distant world and one brilliant scientist believes he has discovered the answer to the unanswerable. A sharp psychological sci-fi thriller that was just my speed.

Lady Midnight ~ Skepticism won't protect you from her visions of the future.

The Sharp End ~ That awkward moment when the job interview puts you at the sharp end of a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Make Like a Fishie ~ There's a big difference between the one on ice at the fish market and the one reeled in for an eye-to-eye encounter.

Leon, His Demon and the Witch ~ If someone in the know tells you that you have a demon, don't try to banish it yourself.

LuvU2 ~ Paranoia, the big destroya; what better way to get back at someone than to make them suspicious of everyone?

The Bull ~ Role reversal when the bull gets loose in 'the china shop.' A big, beefy man finds he can scream with the best of the little girls, while the girl finds the courage to save the day.

Wild Boys ~ I couldn't help but think of A Clockwork Orange as Rab and Jonty went about their malicious business. Shocking conclusion.

Tiny Feet ~ In the future, when every little thing, including giving birth, is done for us, it might seem as if we're living in a utopian society. But all it takes is one person embracing one simple form of anarchy to reveal it was a dystopia all along.

Fredi and the Yellow Bird ~ Innocence isn't always beautiful, but it's worth protecting.

The Wild One ~ Showing off to impress the girl sometimes involves a good deal of luck, especially for one particularly brash buck.

The Ferryman ~ A man whose fortunes have just reversed meets a man whose fortunes are a distant memory. How much is he willing to risk to save the worthless?

To The Hilt ~ No credit? No problem - for a red-blooded guy like you!

Let’s Go Crazy ~ Stuck in a rut of a job? Playing office politics like it's a board game and you're the rook? If your salvation seems too good to be true, trust that first instinct.

Not Fade Away ~ When you're feeling thin-skinned and at your most vulnerable, sometimes a hug is all you need.

The Fountain ~ Sadly neglected and broken-down; it needs love to bring back its potential.

Private Parts ~ Laughter comes to us at the most inappropriate times - but it sure comes in handy to get us through the horror.

FAO ~ Once you've gotten all the way to the end of this personal exchange, please take care to read the disclaimer.

Thrum ~ Soft and warm and fuzzy and deadly as hell.

Tongue ~ Unadulterated silliness.

Cage ~ Enjoy the respite while you can.

Short Cut ~ Just because your trip is cut short doesn't mean it's the end of your journey.

The Red Bench ~ The punishment is in the waiting.

In the Shadow of the Gods ~ Sometimes the most logical argument masks pure fanaticism.

Man Down ~ How far do you have to fall before you achieve Enlightenment?

You Are Here ~ Where else would you be?

Nearly every story within this excellent anthology, like the sucker-punch it's named after, will surprise you with an ending you won't be able to see coming.

BOX OF MUSTACHES

by Stan Evans
161 pages, iUniverse

Review by Melissa Conway

I saw the movie Captain America a few months ago and noticed the name of the actor who played the main character was Chris Evans. His name brought to mind a boy I had in my high school Speech class, Jim Evans. I didn’t know Jim well, but he had a biting wit and a propensity for drawing graphic cartoons that reminded me of my older brother. Jim (and everyone else in class) was witness to one of my Most Embarrassing life moments – the time I got up in front of class to give a speech I was totally unprepared for. I had decided to wing it because the assignment was to give a humorous speech and I was SO funny, wasn’t I? Jim could have pulled it off, I’m certain, but me…well, I blanked out and ended up stuttering and spluttering and staring out at the class in horror before ducking behind the podium. There may have been a few public tears of shame shed. The stank from that experience forever soured me to public speaking. But I digress.

On this particular evening (after I saw Captain America and thought of Jim), I was mostly looking for an excuse to avoid my latest manuscript, but whatever my motivation, I ended up Googling around to see if Jim had an Internet presence. I knew he had a twin brother, so I typed in something like, “jim evans twin stan” and Bingo! I stumbled upon the book I’m reviewing tonight.

I probably would have glanced at the book’s description, said, “That’s cool,” and moved on to some other manuscript-evading tactic, if it weren’t for a couple of odd coincidences that eventually compelled me to buy the book.

The first coincidence was that Jim’s twin, author Stan Evans, self-published in the early 2000’s with iUniverse; same as me. The second and more compelling coincidence was that the story is about Stan and Jim’s childhood, which sounded (at first) eerily similar to my own. The cover says, “The darkly funny, true story of how twin brothers survived their mother’s madness.” Since I have often considered writing a book about my own ‘offbeat’ childhood, I was curious if the initial appearance of similarity between us played out.

In some ways, Box of Mustaches had me in a déjà vu grip as I read, especially the spot-on evocations of being a kid in the seventies. In other ways, the story had me thanking my lucky stars that my mother’s brand of eccentricity was mild in comparison to what Stan and Jim endured. I never would have guessed Jim’s life was so tragically dysfunctional; he seemed so confident – a defense mechanism, I suppose. To a troubled teen struggling to fit in with his peers when his life is anything but normal, the appearance of normalcy would have to be the next best thing.

The author’s writing style is very readable. In itself, the story is not amusing in the slightest, but seen through Stan’s eyes, the tragedy is quite funny. My sense of humor is similar to the author’s, that “laugh at everything” attitude that helped me survive the worst of the incomprehensible things my mother did and said over the years.

The chapters jump around in time and one is written like a script, but it’s not jarring. We read about the twin’s grandmother Centa, who was raped by a Russian soldier in a concentration camp in Poland and gave birth to their mother, Heidi. 16-year-old Heidi’s obsessive ambition to become an actress leads her to leave Germany for America. There, she marries, has the twins, and begins a slow spiral into insanity.

The author does a fine job characterizing the players in his life, and does an equally fine job communicating the raw emotion the events that shaped him inspired. By the end of the story, when he summed up his feelings for his mother, I was teary-eyed because on many levels I could relate to his powerful, conflicting love-hate.

It was interesting reading about Coeur d’Alene, Idaho from Stan’s perspective, as well. Like me, he and his brother moved to town in the middle of their high school careers. Also like me, they came from California and found that there was a pervasive anti-outsider bent at Coeur d’Alene High (no one cared that my ancestors were pioneers in the area). Unlike me, they arrived after their mother shot their step-father, turning him into a paraplegic and getting herself committed in the process.

Would I recommend this book to someone with no connection (however vague) to the author? Definitely. It’s a fine indie example. I was somewhat astonished at how brutally honest the author was about people who are (or were at the time of publication) still alive, but he puts forth a hopeful message for those who find themselves on the receiving end of someone else’s crazy: you can survive and you can succeed in life despite the hardship you’ve undergone.

Stan Evans went on to become an award-winning producer. I have no idea why he was unable to secure a ‘real’ publisher with his undoubted connections in the biz, but I’m glad I stumbled upon this hidden treasure.

THE YEAR GOD’S DAUGHTER

Child of the Erinyes
by Rebecca Lochlann
348 pages, Erinye Press

Review by Melissa Conway

I am acquainted with the author via social networking, which should in no way be construed as an admission that the following review is biased. If I don’t like a book, I won’t finish reading it no matter who wrote it.

The Year God’s Daughter is the first in author Rebecca Lochlann’s Child of the Erinyes series. Even without reading the bio on her website, it’s obvious from the first few pages that this is an author who did her research. She spent fifteen years acquainting herself with ancient Greece, and it shows. Authenticity is steeped into each chapter.

If you are not a fan of historical fiction, don’t let that stop you from reading this excellent book. The finely-honed characterization is such that even with a host of unfamiliar names, you will never lose track of who’s who. The narrative never gets boring – the author has produced a fine balance between description and action.

The story opens with the child Aridela, beloved princess on the island of Crete, recklessly attempting to fulfill her dream of becoming a bull dancer – she believes the goddess Athene has made it her destiny to accomplish the daring and difficult feat. Menoetius is a young foreigner, bastard son of the High King of Mycenae, tasked with finding any weakness in Crete’s defenses. They meet under dire circumstances, and thus begins “Glory, passion, treachery and conspiracy on the grandest scale.”

Divine destiny is a deep-seated theme throughout. Constant regional earthquakes are interpreted by the ruling priestesses as omens, and most everything is imbued with celestial meaning. The reader is immersed in a vivid culture of devoted spirituality. Athene must be appeased with violent sacrifice and every year that sacrifice is the queen’s latest consort – a man who bested all other competitors for the honor of living large for a year and then allowing his blood to consecrate Crete’s soil. Crete is a matrilineal society, but male-dominated kingdoms surround them, and contempt for Athene is spreading on the mainland. If the encroaching changes reach as far as Aridela’s peaceful, prosperous island, a long-prophesied catastrophe will befall them all. From the start, we know this story is headed for a spectacular, world-changing ending. I can’t wait for the rest of the series to see how it all plays out…

Rebecca Lochlann has produced a book of uncommon quality. Highly recommended.

SHADOW SELVES

The Jack Carston Mysteries
by Bill Kirton
Kindle Edition, Pfoxmoor Publishing, PfoxChase

Review by Melissa Conway

I am acquainted with the author and received this ebook free, which should in no way be construed as an admission that the following review is biased. If I don’t like a book, I won’t finish reading it no matter who wrote it.

Shadow Selves is the fourth installment in award-winning author Bill Kirton’s Scotland-based Jack Carston Mysteries. I haven’t read the first three, but had no difficulty whatsoever immersing myself in this cracking good story.

Someone wanted to make very sure that Professor Hayne of the University of Grampian never recovered from his surgery. Not only did his supposedly infallible sutures rupture and cause him to hemorrhage internally, but a lethal dose of pain killer had also been administered by his killer or killers. It’s this very ‘overkill’ that brings his death to the attention of Detective Chief Inspector Jack Carston.

Carston soon discovers that Hayne, head of the department of European Culture at the university, wasn’t well liked. In fact, among his peers “…no blood was let, but hatreds and antagonisms simmered.”  Hayne had enemies to spare and not just at his workplace. As his health declined, he’d been a frequent patient at Bartholomew Memorial Hospital – a cantankerous, unpopular patient. Add to that a wife who can’t even pretend she’s sad he’s gone, and Carston and his team have no shortage of suspects.

Chief among them are the professors angling for Hayne’s job now that he’s gone. There’s the wretchedly malodorous Prof. Leith, with his connection to the surgeon who performed Hayne’s surgery; there’s Prof. Carlyle, whose very department was in jeopardy due to the machinations of an ambitious Hayne; and there’s Prof. Christie, a lecherous wannabe-dandy accused of sexual harassment.

The constipated and sometimes quite amusing posturing of the professors as they scheme to advance themselves and their interests, often at the expense of their colleagues, is mirrored in Carston’s own department, as he struggles to assimilate a new detective with ulterior motives.

Sandra Scott is the attractive student dealing not only with Christie’s unwanted advances, but with a persistent stalker. She’s aided by Carston’s newly-promoted Sargent Julie McNeil, whose misguided attempt to frighten the stalker off has unintended consequences…

The author, a former university lecturer, imbues his narrative with an almost palpable intelligence, and I have no doubt he tapped into his real-life background to accurately depict not only the academic and hospital settings for Shadow Selves, but the psychosocial motivations between its colorful characters. We also get a creepy look into the mind of the stalker as his offenses escalate.

Like all the best mysteries, the author created a multitude of plausible suspects that kept me guessing throughout, but then pulled off an uncontrived resolution to the ‘whodunnit’ that managed to surprise me. Another good, solid read from Bill Kirton.

CITY OF GLASS

by Cassandra Clare
541 pages, McElderry Books

Review by Melissa Conway

The third and final installment of The Mortal Instruments series, City of Glass didn’t disappoint.

It’s hard to write about the third book in a series when I’ve already reviewed the first two books, because it’s really just a continuation of the same story. The plot threads left dangling in the second book are neatly woven together into a satisfying ending. There were no real surprises, although I did guess wrong at the true identity of a newly-introduced character. It was fairly obvious that the love existing between the two main characters, Clary and Jace, would be resolved, and the big, fat Obstacle that has prevented them from uniting would be, in fact, a misunderstanding. Although there’s nothing particularly mind-blowing about the plot, author Clare’s characterizations and world-building are exactly what I look for in a series. Once you’ve read the first book, like an addictive drug, you’ll be back for more.

The same minor issues I had with the first two books are still in force here. Once again, I flipped past pages where the wahngst got too thick or the battle scenes too long. I get impatient when scene after scene is laid out describing the countryside as a character is slowly making his/her way to a confrontation. Stop dawdling! Just get there already! And it *almost* ruins it for me when the denouement drags on and on. But as I mentioned in my previous reviews on Clare’s books, I’m not the target audience, and younger readers may enjoy what I consider to be too much padding in the narrative. It in no way deterred me from needing to read the next book.

The world Clare has created, where fairies, vampires, werewolves and nephilim mingle unseen among humans, is inspired. So much so that I hear a movie is in the works. I can’t wait.

CITY OF ASHES

by Cassandra Clare
453 pages, Margaret K. McElderry Books

Review by Melissa Conway

I enjoyed the first book in The Mortal Instruments series, so I was looking forward to The City of Ashes. It continues the adventures of Clary the angst-ridden teen as she struggles with the newfound knowledge that she isn't the normal human girl she thought she was. Clary's mother is still in a coma from the first book (the reader assumes that all the gaps in Clary's knowledge about her past can be instantly filled in if only Mom would wake the heck up), and the bad guy is still attempting to take over the world with his demon army.

There's a ton of action moving the story along and author Clare's tendency in the first book to bog the narration down with description is less evident here. Except…the reader is in for a frustrating ride on the old "will they or won't they?" merry-go-round. Without giving too much away, Clary and a certain someone are having one heck of a time connecting romantically. This is par for the course for a YA book, and I've been guilty myself of using some of the author's techniques to keep my characters apart (interruptions, anyone?). But there's a fine line between using a technique and abusing it. Halfway through the book, I had to question whether I wanted to devote more of my time reading the whole thing because I found myself scoffing at the relentless back-and-forth between Clary and her certain someone. Misunderstanding was rampant, and I wanted to reach into the pages, box their ears and shout, "Listen to each other!" Plus, even though the author has placed a seemingly insurmountable obstacle between them, she's dropped just enough hints that things aren't so hopeless after all. The characters have been too busy fighting bad guys and mooning over each other to pick up on any of these subtle clues, of course.

I'm absolutely certain that my irritation at their seemingly unnecessary torment is not shared by the average reader of this series. Since I'm not the teenaged target audience, I imagine I'm removed by maturity and faded memories of how anguishing young love can truly be. With this in mind, I kept reading and I'm glad I did.

The plot races along to the expected cliff-hanger conclusion with few surprises along the way, but I'm left invested enough to want to read Clare's finale, City of Glass. Stay tuned…

QUEEN OF THE DEAD

by Stacey Kade
266 pages, Hyperion

Review by Melissa Conway

I should never have read this after Cassandra Clare's City of Bones. Not because the two books are at all comparable, but because after plowing through Clare's hefty tome, The Queen of the Dead was over in a blink of an eye. It's a quick read—so quick I barely had time to reacquaint myself with long-suffering Will and his feisty spirit-guide Alona before I was left hanging until the next book.

Things are a little more complicated in this, the second in the series. Kade has tossed a group of ghost-catching scientists into the mix – and these guys believe ghosts are mere shadows of the once-living; echoes of their personalities – and therefore not 'real.' That may be true for some of the twisted specters that inhabit this book, but anyone who's met (and argued with) Alona is sure to disagree.

Anyone except frizzy-haired Mina, the apprentice ghost-talker, that is. Mina can hear, but not see ghosts, which makes it hard for her to actually catch them – something she needs to do to attain full-fledged ghost-talker status among her father's peers. Mina's not above doing whatever it takes to please her disapproving dad, and Will Killian is just the guy she needs to help her.

The relationship between Alona and Will is put to the test in this book, but I don't want to spoil it by giving anything away. Suffice it to say that something I anticipated happening in the first book has in fact happened by the end of the second – and this something has the potential to really spice up the much-anticipated third book!

Another good story by Stacey Kade.

CITY OF BONES

by Cassandra Clare
485 pages, Simon Pulse

Review by Melissa Conway

The first time I heard of The Mortal Instruments books was after I'd finished writing my first YA novel and was Googling around for examples of book trailers. I didn't find the official City of Bones trailer, but I did stumble upon this fan trailer by Missphoenix05, and I was mesmerized, not only by the images and music borrowed (undoubtedly without permission) to produce the trailer, but by the fact that the book inspired a fan to go to such lengths to show her support.

After that I started noticing the books at the bookstore; they're hard to miss, since the covers have prominently placed torsos of attractive, barely-clothed teens with a gushing quote from Stephenie Meyer of Twilight fame plastered dead center. After I joined Goodreads I noticed there were a lot of reader discussions on Cassandra Clare's series, piquing my curiosity even further.

The other day I was at our local Hasting's looking for Stacey Kade's Queen of the Dead, but they didn't have a copy and I ended up browsing the teen section. I settled on City of Bones just to satisfy that niggling curiosity.

The story drew me in quickly. Clary Fray is the angst-ridden almost sixteen-year-old main character, and she's pretty typical for YA: a clever, beautiful girl who sees herself as a clumsy ugly duckling. She's not getting along with her secretive, over-protective mother, and sneaks off to an all-ages nightclub with Simon—the obligatory best guy-friend secretly in love with her. Clary witnesses a murder, but no one else can see or hear the perpetrators, magical beings trained to dispatch demonic creatures that encroach on the human world.

It's a cool premise, and Clare (the author, not the main character) handles it well. We aren't limited to demons as the bad guys, here we get all sorts: vampires, werewolves, fairies—in fact, it's made clear by the author that every story throughout the world about mythical creatures has some basis in truth, so the reader can expect almost anything to crop up. These creatures are generally bad guys the average mundie (human) would be smart to avoid, but they aren't as bad as demons themselves. The Nephilim, offspring of humans and angels, are the Shadow-hunters, the folks Clary (the main character, not the author) gets mixed up with after her mother is kidnapped by demons. It has been the job of the Shadow-hunters for centuries to protect humans from the odd demon that strays into our world, but there are warring political factions within the Shadow-hunter society; some believe all demons and Forsaken (the vampires, werewolves, etc.) should be destroyed, but the majority support the Accord, a peace treaty between Shadow-hunters and Forsaken.

The above just touches upon this complicated world, but it's not too hard to understand. The author spools out information on how things work through a group of Shadow-hunting teens who school Clary on the rules as the story progresses. These teens are all other-worldly gorgeous and deadly, a powerful draw for the author's target audience, normal teens (and adults who enjoy YA, like me) looking to escape their mundane existences. Clary and Simon are the intruders in the Shadow-hunting teens existing group dynamic, and as expected, romantic confusion ensues.

The book has everything, even a MacGuffin—a literary term describing an object or objective that the characters in the story are seeking (think the ring in the Lord of the Rings)—that strangely enough is very similar to the MacGuffin I have in one of my own books, although the stories themselves are wildly different.

I read City of Bones in three days, a feat for a slow reader like me, since the book is nearly 500 pages long. And there is the crux of my only real criticism: description, particularly of fight scenes, bogs the narrative down. The ending dragged on to the point where I was skipping whole pages. This won't be a problem for everyone—I'm just allergic to over-explanation and prefer to imagine some of the details myself. But this minor drawback didn't stop me from grabbing up the second book in the series the last time I hit the bookstore. I just HAVE to find out if…well, I won't spoil it for you.

THE SPARROW CONUNDRUM

by Bill Kirton
137 pages (Kindle Edition), PfoxChase

Review by Melissa Conway

Full disclosure: the author of The Sparrow Conundrum, Bill Kirton, is an esteemed Booksquawk contributor. He provided me with a free ebook copy for this review.

In his college days, Chris Machin rather accidently got involved with the mob. Astonished to find himself entangled with a woman way out of his league, he blindly obeyed her every wish and soon found himself muling drugs for the Bellazzo brothers. Now Machin’s garden has exploded and the hapless school teacher is paying for his past indiscretions—and the currency is loyalty to the Bellazzo’s main competition: The Cage.

A criminal organization with its fingers in the oil business, The Cage is run like any other company, with incomprehensible layers of bureaucratic nonsense and only a few cognizant employees doing any actual work. Due to the inherent secrecy involved, everyone in The Cage has an avian code-name. Eagle, a displaced Texan with a “hands-off management” style, is in charge…sort of. His two second-in-commands, Hawk and Kestrel, spend most of their time vying for Eagle’s favor—even if it means they must accommodate his unsavory proclivities.

Machin is the Sparrow of the title, and his role in the story is similar to that of a leaf carried along in a trickle of water that becomes a fast-flowing stream that branches into a raging river. In the course of trying to figure out who blew up his garden, Machin is confronted by a psychopathic detective, runs into his shady ex-girlfriend and her pro-wrestler goons and is unknowingly targeted by his own mailman. All the while, except for the ridiculous things that keep happening to him, he’s unaware of the machinations of those struggling for power within The Cage.

The writing is crisp and clever, and author Bill Kirton flawlessly handles multiple perspectives. We bounce, sometimes rapidly, from viewpoint to viewpoint like an intense game of ping pong; but we are never in doubt as to whose (sometimes disturbing, but often amusing) thoughts we’re privy to.

Kirton has a gift for characterization, although I must say the people that run around in this book have such exaggerated personalities they are arguably more caricature than character. And run around they do, like headless chickens (avian pun intended), with desperate, narcissistic urgency, their personal needs and desires at the forefront of the decisions they make. This makes for a rollicking ride, as mishaps and mayhem pile up as thick as the bodies.

The Sparrow Conundrum is a very smart, very funny read.

THE INFORMATIONIST

by Taylor Stevens
307 pages, Crown Publishers

Review by Melissa Conway

Heroine Vanessa “Michael” Munroe is a stone-cold badass. She’s got all the goods: a disguise-friendly gender-neutral face and figure that allows her to blend in like a chameleon, a history of fight-or-die training that honed her ninja-like skills, and a savant-like linguistic ability. Forged in the lawless jungles of central Africa, these formidable traits have earned her the respect of her peers—those who’ve heard of her, that is. She’s the secret weapon of corporations world-wide. If they need someone to get in, get the intel and get out, she’s their man.

Michael hasn’t been back to Africa since she dealt the sadistic monster who trained her his final blow, but she’s been hired to find out what happened to a young woman who disappeared somewhere in the depths of the continent. Going back resurrects a whole host of demons from the past, but she’s got a job to do. Richard Burbank, the billionaire father of the lost girl, seems desperate to find out what happened to her. Michael the mercenary is used to working alone, but Burbank saddles her with his friend Miles Bradford, former military Special Forces now providing private security.

The two move about the country with the aid of Michael’s cohort Logan back in her adopted home-town of Dallas. Logan is the procurer of forged documents and weapons and other sundry supplies, and is a steadfast friend to our tormented heroine. Her only other friend is the business-like Kate Breeden, who also serves as go-between and arranger of missions.

Right away this mission goes south. Not only does Michael find heavy resistance to her probing from authorities in Africa, but she and Bradford are being followed. When Michael is grabbed, dumped into the ocean and left for dead, it becomes painfully obvious someone doesn’t want Emily Burbank to be found. Now Michael is forced to request aid from her former boss Francisco Beyard, a ruthless and brilliant gun-runner.

The Informationist is author Taylor Stevens’ debut novel, a satisfying page-turner that gives the reader authentic glimpses into life on a third-world continent, from political unrest and governmental corruption to the big business oil fields. The story ends satisfactorily, but leaves room for a sequel, which I’m looking forward to.

PASSION PLAY

by Beth Bernobich
167 pages, Tor

Review by Melissa Conway

This is Bernobich’s debut novel, and I found it shelved in the Science Fiction section (where it belonged), but I was rather stymied by the title. ‘Passion Play’ sounds like something you’d find on the cover of a bodice ripper, or even an erotic novel, neither of which fits here. The ‘passion’ within is minimal, and there’s very little ‘play.’

Therez is a young woman on the verge of adulthood, living with her family in a town where magic is out of fashion. Her ailing grandmother has told her many of the old stories, and has instilled in her a belief of magic, but Therez has only felt its presence within herself by accident.

Therez’ father is a cold, controlling man, so much so that she decides to run away rather than submit to an arranged marriage. She pays to join a caravan to a far-away city and ends up having to choose between becoming the caravan whore, or having the caravan boss send her back to her father. This is the weakest part of the narrative, where I couldn’t help but question the main character’s motivation. Therez is a virgin and naïve, but her decision to give herself to a disgusting man to avoid her erstwhile bridegroom is simply unbelievable. She quickly realizes her mistake, as her body is made available to all the men in the caravan, who use her often and brutally. The writing effectively gets across the horrors of her abuse, firmly establishing for the reader her resulting psychological state. There is nothing faintly resembling the passion of the title in these scenes.

However, once she escapes and finds refuge as a scullery-maid in a house of pleasure, the narrative straightens out and really begins to pull the reader in. Therez has changed her name to Ilse, and despite her best efforts to blend in, is unable to hide that she was gently raised and educated. She’s soon promoted to the assistant of the house bookkeeper, and has impressed the owner, a handsome eunuch. Yes, that’s right, he was once a member of the king’s court and forced to undergo some drastic surgery to ensure his loyalty, but the new king booted all the old advisors out and is now being influenced by a powerful mage. Lord Kosenmark (our eunuch) dabbles in political intrigue, and Ilse is soon up to her neck in conspiracy.

Kosenmark teaches Ilse to fight, and she also begins lessons in magic. Her boss has a male lover, but by the end of the book, they’ve broken up and Ilse has replaced him. This is more believable than it sounds, due to Bernobich’s strong characterization. This is obviously the first in a series, one that I just might continue reading once the next book comes out.