The Y Logs

Yzabel / May 6, 2016

Review: Last Call at the Nightshade Lounge

Last Call at the Nightshade Lounge: A Novel by Paul Krueger

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

A sharp and funny urban fantasy for “new adults” about a secret society of bartenders who fight monsters with alcohol fueled magic.

College grad Bailey Chen has a few demons: no job, no parental support, and a rocky relationship with Zane, the only friend who’s around when she moves back home. But when Zane introduces Bailey to his cadre of monster-fighting bartenders, her demons get a lot more literal. Like, soul-sucking hell-beast literal. Soon, it’s up to Bailey and the ragtag band of magical mixologists to take on whatever—or whoever—is behind the mysterious rash of gruesome deaths in Chicago, and complete the lost recipes of an ancient tome of cocktail lore.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley and Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.]

An original enough idea (powers granted through cocktails), although in the end the story didn’t stray much into uncharted territory as far as “typical urban fantasy” goes.

Bailey, freshly graduated from Upenn, is struggling to find the career of her dreams. In the meantime, she’s had to take a job as a barback at the Nightshade Lounge, where her old high school crush, Zane, is now working as well. Typical? Not so much, because after whipping herself a pretty wicked screwdriver, she suddenly finds herself embroiled into a world of demons stalking unsuspecting preys at night, and of hunters granted super powers through… cocktails.

So the basic idea is pretty fun, and I must say, much to my dismay, it made me feel wanting to try my hand at mixing cocktails, too. (Much to my dismay because, uh, it’s pretty expensive. But that’s a story for another day. ^^) And I say, “why not”? It has the rules of magic stamped over it, after all: you need to mix in precise, exact quantities, using very specific alcohol brewed in very specific ways, and since the users can’t “imbibe” more than one sort of cocktails at a time, it doesn’t advertise the idea of getting completely pissed either.

I also really liked the recipes after each chapter (well, almost each), mirroring pages from the “Devil’s Water Dictionary” (kind of the novel’s mixologist’s book of magic recipes). I have no idea if they’re accurate, but having a recipe + some background story after it, tied to the world-building, was neat.

On the other hand, speaking of world-building, I would’ve liked to see a few things more detailed. For instance, the tremens are attracted to people who’ve had one drink too many. OK. However, this was a bit too vague. Where are they coming from (parallel world, Hell…)? Is someone sending them? What was the Blackout exactly? Since this doesn’t seem like a series so far, I’m not sure there’ll be a way of finding out. And I do like my detailed world-building…

The other thing I don’t liked much were the characters, as Bailey and a couple of others seemed rather… immature. Regularly enough, I thought they were teenagers, rather than people in their twenties (Bailey is 21-22). This didn’t fit too well in my opinion with the sort of stylish tinge brought by cocktails (it’s not cheap lager, come on, especially when another character – Zane – is described as wearing what I may call “bartender suits”).

Conclusion: not exactly convincing, nevertheless I did enjoy the story and atmosphere when it dealt with magic/powers and recipes. If this novel was a bit more polished, it could definitely shine.

Yzabel / April 28, 2016

Review: Pawn’s Gambit

Pawn’s Gambit: And Other Stratagems by Timothy Zahn

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

This collection showcases the career-launching short fiction of Timothy Zahn, acclaimed author of Blackcollar, the Quadrail series, and the #1 New York Times bestseller Star Wars: Heir to the Empire

The pieces included in Pawn’s Gambit range from the adventure science fiction Timothy Zahn is famous for to post-apocalyptic tales and humorous fantasy. In “The Price of Survival,” an alien ship arrives in our solar system without hostile intentions—but with a desperate need that could destroy humanity. “The Giftie Gie Us” is set in a post-apocalyptic United States, in which two lonely survivors find love among the ruins. And in the title story, a human and his alien opponent face off over a game that will decide which one of them will return home—and which will not. This collection also includes the Hugo Award–winning novella Cascade Point and eight stories previously unpublished in book form.

Review:

(I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.)

3.5 stars. Overall a decent collection of short stories, mostly science fiction, with some fantasy mixed in. I didn’t find any excellent, but none was really bad either, which makes for a good book to borrow, for want of actually buying it.

Some notes about the stories:

“The Price of Survival”: An interesting enough conundrum about how far two species are ready to go to survive. But while their representatives mourn about similar facts, the reasons that brought them to that point are different enough that it makes you reconsider the price to pay.

“The Giftie Gie Us”: I liked the idea behind the blind character. Still, it wasn’t my favourite story, probably because of the post-apocalyptic setting with its defined boundaries (Man hunts, Woman stays home… meh).

“The Final Report of the Lifeline Experiment”: Kind of a loaded topic here, however the experiment’s results may not be the ones you’d expect…

“Cascade Point”: One of my favourites. It deals with space travel/space bending/alternate realities gone wrong, as well as with the matter of one person’s happiness vs. the greater good. When the one person to be sacrificed will go back to a less than happy state, yet ignoring that choice will strip someone of their dignity, what should a captain choose?

“Music Hath Charms”: A bit of dark comedy here, that also raises the question of life’s worth in a different way. An alien artefact might actually kill thousands… or not?

“The President’s Doll”: Good idea (reverse voodoo, used to heal instead of harming), less thrilling execution. I’m not sure why. It just came out as flat for me.

“Clean Slate”: One of the fantasy stories, about a wizard who never got a chance to actually use his power to do good, and is ready to pay the price to do so at least once in his life, no matter what that price will be. Interestingly, the story made me think of Orson Scott Card’s writings about plot and world-building, and the author’s note confirmed why I had this feeling.

“Hitmen – See Murderers”: Another good idea that fell flat. What it posits gave me matter to think about, but the short story format didn’t leave room for more when it came to the flow of events, and I think a bit “more” would’ve been needed here to make this piece shine.

“Protocol”: In a colony where people live in fear of the mysterious Stryders, only very specific protocols allow them to survive encounters with those beings. However, what if the protocol were to fail, or if a yet undiscovered protocol was needed?

“Old-Boy Network”: Ethics and telepathy in a solar system where the wealthiest exploit whoever they want, in horrible ways. A bit heavy-handed in its criticism of ugly capitalism, though still another story that will make you think.

“Proof”: I could sense the ending coming. Still, it was a good game of cat and mouse, with reflections about whether we can trust what we see or not.

“The Ring”: A classical approach on the theme of boons and curses, of what price a man is ready to pay to get what he desires… but is it *truly* his heart’s desire?

“Trollbridge”: Urban fantasy story, about a lone troll desperately trying to protect “his” bridge, but up until now he hasn’t really bothered to wonder about other fae-like creatures. A somewhat light-hearted tale of survival in a modern world that will not leave any room to creatures of old… unless those very same creatures find another way.

“Chem Lab 301”: Not the most original plot ever, but a cute twist at the end.

“Pawn’s Gambit”: A study, through an alien-led experiment about gaming, of what would make another race dangerous or not in those aliens’ eyes… And Humans’ resourcefulness may be both an asset and a downfall here. Quite interesting, in part because the aliens’ point of view is somewhat valid, and in part because there’s still hope for humans to put their resources to witty uses.

In general, most of these stories tended to spin one or another aspect of what it means to be human, whether “a means to an end” is an appropriate way of living one’s life, about decisions and consequences, and how sometimes you may not have a choice–or may have to bend your thought processes to find another way. On the downside, some had less than stellar characters, who acted more like plot devices than real people, and weren’t very interesting.

Yzabel / April 26, 2016

Review: Illuminae

Illuminae by Amie Kaufman

My rating: [rating=5]

Blurb:

This morning, Kady thought breaking up with Ezra was the hardest thing she’d have to do.

This afternoon, her planet was invaded.

The year is 2575, and two rival megacorporations are at war over a planet that’s little more than an ice-covered speck at the edge of the universe. Too bad nobody thought to warn the people living on it. With enemy fire raining down on them, Kady and Ezra—who are barely even talking to each other—are forced to fight their way onto an evacuating fleet, with an enemy warship in hot pursuit.

But their problems are just getting started. A deadly plague has broken out and is mutating, with terrifying results; the fleet’s AI, which should be protecting them, may actually be their enemy; and nobody in charge will say what’s really going on. As Kady hacks into a tangled web of data to find the truth, it’s clear only one person can help her bring it all to light: the ex-boyfriend she swore she’d never speak to again.

Told through a fascinating dossier of hacked documents—including emails, schematics, military files, IMs, medical reports, interviews, and more—Illuminae is the first book in a heart-stopping, high-octane trilogy about lives interrupted, the price of truth, and the courage of everyday heroes.

Review:

4.5 stars. I had to wait for 4 months to finally be able to borrow it from the library (10 people ahead of me, bah), and I admit I was worried about the whole epistolary/chats/format thing, because it’s too easy to just slap “witty” formatting on pages and call that a good book. Fortunately, the story and characters really hooked me–yes, even though the “chat-speak” on some pages would normally quickly have annoyed me in other circumstances.

There was romance, but not of the stupid kind that casts a shadow on the whole plot. While Ezra and Kady do think about each other, after their world was turned upside down and forced them to reconsider the importance of a breakup for what I shall call “puny teenager reasons”, they didn’t spend their time mooning, groping each other, and sending the rest of their crews to hell just because feeeeeeelings. Contrary to what happens too often in many YA novels (you know, “the world is ending but we’re still too busy pondering who we want to go out with”). It wasn’t the best romance ever, but at least it was far from being the worst I read.

The format: fun to read, although I tended to prefer some aspects over others (the “chatspeak” conversations, for instance, weren’t my favourites). I think this was because of the whole “report” side of it, which made for a strange dichotomy in the narrative: both very factual (“here are recordings from camera X”) and unreliable (how were those recordings recovered and put back together?).

The characters: so I’ll be honest, Ezra and Kady were “good” to read about but not really more. Ezra enlisted to help, not knowing much to what he was signing up for, yet aware someone should help, and gradually revealing a few things about his family that were hard to suspect at first. I didn’t care for Kady much at first, because of her sullen, do-not-want-to-do-that attitude; however, she redeemed herself later, and anyway was more of an action girl with a bit of romance on the side than the usual (and annoying) lovestruck heroine who lets The Boy do all the work.

Yet as far as I’m concerned, the one character I really, really loved reading about was AIDAN. It’s crazy and damaged and desperately trying to latch upon what’s left of its programming, pushing its core directives in directions that may or may not be completely at odds with what the crews of the three spaceships would like (or need). And in doing so, in being so, it was all so human, spiralling towards both destruction and a new awareness.

And, frankly, I just loved that AI. It added at least a full star to my rating. No kidding. And just for AIDAN, I’d read it again. (Also for the unreliable parts I mentioned above, and the way they tie together, and you’d better pay attention to a few tiny details here and there.)

Yzabel / April 21, 2016

Review: Life After Dane

Life After Dane by Edward Lorn

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

A mother’s love is undying… and so is Dane.

After the state of Arkansas executes serial killer Dane Peters, the Rest Stop Dentist, his mother discovers that life is darker and more dangerous than she ever expected.

The driving force behind his ghostly return lies buried in his family’s dark past. As Ella desperately seeks a way to lay her son’s troubled soul to rest, she comes face to face with her own failings.

If Ella cannot learn why her son has returned and what he seeks, then the reach of his power will destroy the innocent, and not even his mother will be able to stop him.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Well, that was quite a twisted ride here. A sort of “making of a serial killer”, seen through the eyes of the killer’s mother, Ella, as she reminisces about the past after her son’s death, while stranger and stranger events start happening around her.

Dane Peters, a serial killer known as the Rest Stop Dentist (after his places of killing and his “collection” of teeth from his victims), is gone, sentenced to death and executed. It’s time for his mother, who followed the trial for months, to go back home, where she finds shelter in religion, the only thing she has left—and even that is less than certain, for Dane’s reputation as well as an article by journalist Sven Gödel have tainted her, made her into “the killer’s mother”, and he own church may not want her anymore. So Ella tries to go on as she can, but her enemies are many, tagging her house at night and leaving accusatory articles in her mailbox, while her friends, like Talia, are few.

Enters Dane, his presence brought back through a DVD he left in Sven’s care, a video containing a last message for the person he loved most. His mother? Well… This is when Hell on Earth breaks for Ella and Sven, haunted more and more by Dane. A real ghost? A common hallucination? A hallucination that can hurt and kill, for sure. Threatened and manipulated, the mother and the journalist have no choice but to go on a sick quest of Dane’s making. But did Dane turn evil just because it was in his nature, or did someone made him into a killer?

For me, the supernatural and horror aspects were intriguing, but what interested me even more was the abuse running rampant in Dane’s family. While I would definitely disagree with anyone affirming that being abused as a child turns people evil, the fact is, abuse in any form is very, very likely to leave children (and their future adult selves) scarred, in one way or another. This novel is perhaps more a study of abuse than a ghost/horror story: a study in how a father perpetuates on his son what was done to him, on how a scared mother may choose to turn a blind eye on said abuse, thus becoming complicit in the daily torture, on how love can get horribly warped, on crappy justifications to horrible actions…

As a result, the main characters felt unpleasant yet also sympathetic, a dichotomy that isn’t so easy to achieve. Unpleasant because of their flaws, their tendency to justify them, their voluntary blindness to ugly truths, their hypocrisy, too (Ellaconsidering herself a good Christian, while letting the abuse go on). Sympathetic, because, all in all, Ella and Dane were victims first and foremost (to use the same example, Ella found refuge in her beliefs precisely because facing the truth alone was too hard and she was too scared).

And, to be honest, the teeth motif particularly struck me: losing teeth is one of my deep fears, and in general, anyway, imagining people having their teeth ripped out of their mouths is… just frightening. It hurts terribly, it touches you directly in your face, so close to the seat of your thoughts, it disfigures you, and it’s such a horrible way to bleed to death, too…

Nice touch at the very end, too, but I’m certainly not going to spoil anything.

Yzabel / April 19, 2016

Review: Monstrous Little Voices

Monstrous Little Voices: New Tales From Shakespeare’s Fantasy World by Jonathan Barnes

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Mischief, Magic, Love and War.

It is the Year of Our Lord 1601. The Tuscan War rages across the world, and every lord from Navarre to Illyria is embroiled in the fray. Cannon roar, pikemen clash, and witches stalk the night; even the fairy courts stand on the verge of chaos.

Five stories come together at the end of the war: that of bold Miranda and sly Puck; of wise Pomona and her prisoner Vertumnus; of gentle Lucia and the shade of Prospero; of noble Don Pedro and powerful Helena; and of Anne, a glovemaker’s wife. On these lovers and heroes the world itself may depend.

These are the stories Shakespeare never told. Five of the most exciting names in genre fiction today – Jonathan Barnes, Adrian Tchaikovsky, Emma Newman, Foz Meadows and Kate Heartfield – delve into the world the poet created to weave together a story of courage, transformation and magic.

Including an afterword by Dr. John Lavagnino, The London Shakespeare Centre, King’s College London.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A tale told through five different shorter stories, and by the hand of five different authors. “Monstrous Little Voices” picks some of Shakespeare’s plays (“The Tempest”, “Macbeth”, “Twelfth Night”…) and extrapolates on their themes and characters. Gender identity, the roles a gender may impose on a person, one’s decision to shake off those shackles and keep living without a care for the shape they’re in, the bravery of women acting “like men” (to the dismay of said men, poor creatures!)… More than once are those explored, while all the stories gather around a plot of impending war and intrigue, under the watchful eyes of fairies with their own agendas, and deities with shady plans as well.

There are a lot of cameos and cross-references here, and not knowing the works from which they sprang would lead to missing on quite a few good parts, so be prepared to brush up your Shakespeare before diving into this collection, and to know who we’re talking about when mentioning Miranda, Puck, Paroles or Helen—not to mention those characters who allude at yet other sources… much like Shakespeare himself found inspiration in various sources as well. And so, many, many times, the five tales entertwining here do so with their faire amount of echoes.

The first, second and third were clearly my favourites, both for their plots and for their themes. “Coral Bones” is the story of Miranda’s journey, after she left her island and realised that life among men, abiding by laws written for Man by men, was nothing to write home about. I particularly liked her take on gender, on wanting to be “human” and “oneself” above anything else, of not agreeing with those for whom gender should define one’s behaviour and ways of thinking. And this story definitely shows her as more resourceful and cunning than one would think. “The Course of True Love” was ripe with magic, metamorphoses, questioning about one’s true nature—and seeing older people at the heart of romance was extremely refreshing, showing that love can be born anywhere, anytime. As for “The Unkindest Cut”, I liked its self-fulfilling prophetic contents, and how it played on twisting words and visions; its end is bittersweet, full of dark promises… but here, too, showing another female character who’s determined to take her life between her hands (in an interesting twist, considering how blank she was at first, when all she wanted was to marry The Man).

On the other hand, I admit I didn’t care much for stories #4 and #5. “Even in the Cannon’s Mouth” felt too disjointed, a feeling made stronger as the story sometimes shifted to present tense. Finally, “On the Twelfth Night” tied the other stories in a way that somewhat made sense… but I have such a hard time with second person POV that trudging through those last pages wasn’t too pleasant (it’s even more jarring when the “you” is actually named, and isn’t “you the reader”—this just doesn’t make sense).

Conclusion: the first three stories were the root of most of my enjoyment here; I wished it had been the same with the others. 3,5 stars.

Yzabel / April 17, 2016

Review: Paper Girls vol. 1

Paper Girls Vol. 1 by Brian K. Vaughan

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

In the early hours after Halloween of 1988, four 2-yearold newspaper delivery girls uncover the most important story of all time. Suburban drama and otherworldly mysteries collide in this smashhit series about nostalgia, first jobs, and the last days of childhood. Collects PAPER GIRLS #1-5.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Intriguing premise, but lacking in execution, as events piled upon each other at a rhythm that obfuscated them a little too much.

It all starts with four 12-year old girls delivering newspapers in the early hours of the morning, in 1988 Cleveland, and quickly moves from mundane occurrings (bullying from shady teenagers) to weird ones. While running after a group of three shrouded figures who’ve slighted them, the girls discover some strange machine in a basement; a bright flash of white light later, everybody’s gone from town, and armoured-clad soldiers on dinosaurs stalk the streets to off every “straggler” they find. And this is only the beginning of Weird…

I liked the basic idea: people disappearing, those four kids armed only with their bikes and walkie-talkies (no internet or cell phones in 1988!), taken in the cross-fire between the armoured people and the shrouded ones, trying to make sense of it all while surviving… Not to mention a certain nostalgia permeating the whole story—enought to be felt, but not too much, not the point of too much name dropping or constantly referring to 80s items (the graphic format allows to put them here without having to underline their presence like a novel may have to).

On the other hand, so many events end up piled upon each other—so many weird things, without any actual revelation— that, just like the girls stumbling from situation to situation without a clue about what to do next, the reader too can feel confused. It’s not about getting all the information immediately, because that’d be no fun; still, there’s a very fine line between “mystery” and “a ton of mystery”, and the latter here is made up of one too many of those strange occurrings. Is it horror? Sci-fi? Is it about aliens or time travel? I had the feeling that the authors wanted to add as many elements as possible to deepen the mystery, without seeing where the line was; as a result, it’s a bit overkill for a first volume.

It would also have been nice to know more about the characters, since this would make it easier to relate to what’s happening to them (Mac’s family, Erin’s nightmares…). I didn’t feel like I had enough of a grasp on these girls to properly care about how they’d cope with events here.

The art and colours are good; my copy had compressed graphics, which dampened a bit my enthusiasm, but as I got a PDF for review, obviously this isn’t in the printed version. Ad it has some fairly decent dialogue linesm too.

Just for the artwork, this is worth keeping an eye on. Nevertheless, the story itself doesn’t sem to be going anywhere, being more a collage of “this weird thing happens, then this other weird thing, then yet another weird thing.”

Yzabel / April 13, 2016

Review: The Star-Touched Queen

The Star-Touched Queen by Roshani Chokshi

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Cursed with a horoscope that promises a marriage of Death and Destruction, sixteen-year-old Maya has only earned the scorn and fear of her father’s kingdom. Content to follow more scholarly pursuits, her world is upheaved when her father, the Raja, arranges a wedding of political convenience to quell outside rebellions. But when her wedding takes a fatal turn, Maya becomes the queen of Akaran and wife of Amar. Yet neither roles are what she expected. As Akaran’s queen, she finds her voice and power. As Amar’s wife, she finds friendship and warmth.

But Akaran has its own secrets – thousands of locked doors, gardens of glass, and a tree that bears memories instead of fruit. Beneath Akaran’s magic, Maya begins to suspect her life is in danger. When she ignores Amar’s plea for patience, her discoveries put more than new love at risk – it threatens the balance of all realms, human and Otherworldly.

Now, Maya must confront a secret that spans reincarnated lives and fight her way through the dangerous underbelly of the Otherworld if she wants to protect the people she loves.

Review:

[I received an ARC of this novel through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A story reminiscent of several “seeking one’s beloved in another world” tales and myths, with an Indian twist and the including of reincarnation. This led to an interesting shift in balance, as both main characters sought each other, first Amar seeking, then Maya searching for Amar.

Amar is, obviously, the Mysterious Stranger of the tale: tall, dark and handsome, with love in his eyes and words but secrets that he cannot reveal before a certain event is past. In a way, his choosing Maya was akin to insta-love, which I usually don’t like; here, it fit within the reincarnation theme permeating the novel, so at least there was *that* explanation. Not the best or the most original, but eh, it worked, and it was logical in that specific setting. Also, it helps that he was a pretty decent person overall: with a dash of “unnerving mysterious love interest”, yet never falling into the dominant-jerk template so many male love interests in YA seem to be created with. Although the mystery about who he truly was may have made him look at times a bit too “controlling” (in keeping information to himself) in spite of his claims of wanting Maya to rule as his equal. There are explanations to this secrecy later, tied into the supernatural/mythological background.

Maya was a good character to follow, in that she’s born under a bad horoscope, has been shunned in many ways from birth in spite of being a princess, yet isn’t complaining all the time. She may be petty with her tutors so that she can spy on her father (and learn the ropes of true leadership), resent the harem wives, but she didn’t strike me as someone with a terribly negative, depressed view of life. She tried to remain stoic when faced with a dire choice with dire consequences, but kept looking for chances to grab a “third choice” (escape) when she could.

I admit I didn’t like her too much when she made *the* choice mid-novel, though. I felt it wasn’t exactly justified, prompted only by a few lies and one bit of conversation. It would’ve made more sense if Maya had been confronted to similar occurrences more than just a couple of times.

The prose was mostly flowing, with really vivid descriptions at times, conveying beautiful images of enchanted, preternatural lands where legendary beings dwellt as if this was the most normal thing in the world. And I think this was a strong point: the book didn’t explain much about those beings, didn’t justify their existence… but it was totally OK, because it managed to show them as part of the natural order, as unquestionable. It made sense, completely, and no explanation was actually needed.

On the other hand, in a “it’s not you, book, it’s me” fashion, I sometimes found it difficult to remain invested in the story. Perhaps it was the rhythm, or the descriptions? (I can appreciate beautiful descriptions, yet still want more action/dialogues; it’s a bit paradoxical, I know.) I don’t think it’s any fault of the novel itself, just a bad reading timing on my part.

I would also have liked seeing more of Nritti’s reasons for acting the way she did. I understand what prompted her to choose that path, however there was a bit of a discrepancy between her first appearance and the others, as well as some shadows on how exactly she followed “that path”.

A solid 3.5 stars (3 on Goodreads, 4 on other platforms, depending on the rating system)—and someone who likes descriptions more than I do may in fact rate it higher.

Yzabel / April 10, 2016

Review: A Long, Cold Winter

A Long, Cold Winter by Lindsay Smith

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Welcome to Prague, 1970: ground zero in a Cold War of spies and sorcerers.

The streets are a deadly chessboard on which the CIA and KGB make their moves, little dreaming that a deeper game is being played between the Consortium of Ice and the Acolytes of Flame, ancient organizations that seek to harness elemental magic. When Andula, a young Czech student, is stalked by an inhuman hunter, KGB agent and Ice operative Tanya Morozova must risk all to protect her, while CIA agent Gabe Pritchard learns that some horrors, once seen, can never be forgotten.

Review:

[I received a copy of this novel through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Not exactly a novel, as it’s the first episode of a serials, containing chapters 1 to 3. Which makes it a bit frustrating, as in, obviously, at some point one wants to know how it goes next. Fortunately, a lot of episodes are already out at serialbox.com

It introduces the major, or at least some of the major players (there may always be new ones in later chapters, after all) of a Cold War fought behind the Iron Curtain, but also behind other front lines, ones that not necessarily follow the former… Which makes, and is hopefully going to make, interesting conundrums as far as the characters are concerned: two people may be on the USSR side as far as their mundane lives go, but one is fighting for the Ice while the other is fighting for the Fire when it comes to magic. This cannot go well, can it?

On the side of Ice, and incidentally of the KGB, Tanya and Nadia are seeking a Prague student whose affinity for magic makes her a target for the Fire. Meanwhile, Gabe, a CIA agent, is trying to do his job while struggling with a little magical problem of his own, that may or may not demand he joins Ice in the end (it’d be that or dying, I suppose). The Fire players are honing their weapons, and independent players are also introduced—not everyone wants to join one side, but can they really remain independent, or will they be terminated at some point?

This first installment was sometimes a bit rough on the edges (some parts veered on mixing points of view—though the Kindle formatting didn’t help in that regard, and it was a bit less problematic in the PDF I got). However, as far as introducing characters and setting, this was definitely intriguing, and I’m of a mind to get all the episodes once they’re out. Hopefully in a couple of weeks?

Yzabel / April 8, 2016

Review: An Unattractive Vampire

An Unattractive Vampire by Jim McDoniel

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Jim McDoniel’s debut novel, An Unattractive Vampire, is a darkly comic urban fantasy of ancient horrors in suburban cities. After three centuries trapped underground, thousand-year-old Yulric Bile—also known as the Curséd One, the Devil’s Apprentice, He Who Worships the Slumbering Horrors—awakens only to find that no one believes he is a vampire. Apparently he’s just too ugly—modern vampires, he soon discovers, are pretty, weak, and, most disturbing of all, good. Determined to reestablish his bloodstained reign, Yulric sets out to correct this disgusting turn of events or, at the very least, murder the person responsible. With the help of pert vampire-wannabe Amanda; Simon, the eight-year-old reincarnation of his greatest foe; and a cadre of ancient and ugly horrors, Yulric prepares to battle the glamorous undead. But who will win the right to determine, once and for all, what it truly means to be a vampire?

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A fun read, even though in the end I didn’t find it the laugh-fest I had expected.

This is for all of us who like their vampire stories, but don’t necessarily want to read about a sanitised, mainstream, “fangless” version of vampires, with glitter and beauty, but little punch otherwise. Yulric Bile is an old school vampire: ugly, fearing crosses and running water, with nothing in the way of glamour, yet also adept at dark magic and much more resilient than the “modern vampyrs” with their glitz and life of night-clubs. Of course, both the former and the latter at cliché. Of course, the story pokes fun at Twilight-like vampires… although, all things considered, I think it pokes even *more* fun at wannabe-Camarilla vampires. (Any “Vampire: the Masquerade” player will see where I’m going with this. All the more if they’ve played the first edition. Ah, those good old days when we thought emo!vampire was all the rage…)

There are ridiculous and sympathetic characters on both sides. Amanda, the sexy blonde who’d like nothing better than to be turned a vampire, but maybe not for such obvious reasons. The cast from the “Phantom” TV series, clearly a mirror of contemporary paranormal and urban fantasy stories, complete with forums and fangirls, convoluted romance and Face-Hell (and Heel-Face) turns. Simon, Amanda’s little brother, too serious for a kid—also to enamored with weapons. Yulric, dangerous and ruthless yet also mesmerised by modern inventions like TV (and let’s not talk about his first meeting a car).

Mostly this book was a light read perfect for moments when you do need something fun, something that shall make you smile. It has its own brand of a sense of humour, including Yulric’s, who’s not so unsympathetic.

On the other hand, some things were a bit too… all over the place? Not in the right places? Vermillion’s involvment, for instance: I see where this is going, but it was strange to see so much of him, considering how he was involved. Or Simon: both cute and creepy in his own way, yet no real use was made of the whole “the eight-year-old reincarnation of his greatest foe“ hint from the blurb (it wasn’t mentioned until late, it didn’t bear much weight on his relationship with Yulric…). Or Catherine: good for her, but how did she go from 4-year coma-patient to sauntering about in a matter of a few days?

The writing was also jumpy in quite a few places, mixing points of views in a way that wasn’t really omniscient POV, and so felt weird to read. The footnotes were funny in general; some could’ve been omitted, though, as those didn’t bring anything to the fun factor.

So, funny in general, although in the end it didn’t amuse me as much as I hoped it would have when I read the blurb. Still, this is the kind of book I’d recommend borrowing, at least.

Yzabel / April 6, 2016

Review: Broken Dolls

Broken Dolls by Tyrolin Puxty

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Ella doesn’t remember what it’s like to be human – after all, she’s lived as a doll for thirty years. She forgets what it’s like to taste, to breathe…to love.

She helps the professor create other dolls, but they don’t seem to hang around for long. His most recent creation is Lisa, a sly goth. Ella doesn’t like Lisa. How could she, when Lisa keeps trying to destroy her?

Ella likes the professor’s granddaughter though, even if she is dying. Gabby is like Ella’s personal bodyguard. It’s too bad the professor wants to turn Gabby into a doll too, depriving her of an education…depriving her of life.

With time running out and mad dolls on the rampage, Ella questions her very existence as she unearths the secrets buried in her past; secrets that will decide whether Gabby will befall the same fate…

Review:

[I received a copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.]

Mixed feelings regarding this novel: while I found the premise intriguing and a bit creepy (dolls who used to be human beings, possibly with a psychotic streak, I mean, come on, think “Chucky”), the explanation behind it all didn’t convince me.

From the beginning, Ella’s life is clearly on the twisted side, with a sort of Pygmalion-and-Galathea streak: she’s living in the attic of a mysterious Professor, who turned her into a doll and seems to love her, but also to keep her locked inside. She cannot go out, she cannot talk to other dolls or people, and all she has—even though she seems content with it at first—is dancing, her bedroom in a chest, and a recorder that she uses to narrate adventures. So when the Professor brings in another doll, Lisa, of course our little heroine is happy… except Lisa quickly starts asking too many questions and behaving strangely, because *she* remembers what it is to be human, and being a doll doesn’t sit with her. At all. No wonder she’s going a bit cray cray here, I think anyone would.

And as Lisa’s “madness” grows, Ella starts questioning more and more things, too, especially when Gabby, the Professor’s granddaughter, comes to spend a few days in the house: Gabby is dying from an incurable illness… and wouldn’t she make a pretty doll, too?

Well, as I said, I liked the story in the beginning; however, when the science part actually was revealed, it just didn’t work. The Professor’s goals were idealistic and positive, yet kind of naïve and unbelievable—I don’t think the achievements he was striving for could be attained just like that. (Although it would be nice if they could.) This was too wishy-washy to my liking. Suspension of disbelief kind of fell and crashed to the floor.

There were a few plot holes, too, that I was hoping would be covered, and… weren’t. What about the epidemics, for instance? A 95% mortality rate, and specifically targetted at O blood type people: that’s quite a lot of potential victims (about 35-40% of the US population is in this group?). It was on the news on TV in the novel, sure, but like an after thought, and it was difficult to believe that people weren’t more in a panic about it.

Also, the whole “she’s a goth so it explains why she’s psychotic (and why she used to cut herself)” was a) uncalled for, b) a stupid cliché. It may have been intended as a joke, but it didn’t feel like it. (Yes, I am totally biased in that regard. There’s so much more to the goth subculture than those images that, in fact, are exactly the ones that hurt, and make people bully those who embrace said subculture. Do not start me on that.)

Conclusion: good ideas in this story, and even though I found it more “OK” than “I really like it”, I may check out other works by this author later. Too bad the second half didn’t follow so much with the whole “creepy dolls” vibe from the first half, as I would’ve liked that more…