horror Archives - Page 4 of 7

Yzabel / August 15, 2015

Review: The Fold

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

STEP INTO THE FOLD.
IT’S PERFECTLY SAFE.

The folks in Mike Erikson’s small New England town would say he’s just your average, everyday guy. And that’s exactly how Mike likes it. Sure, the life he’s chosen isn’t much of a challenge to someone with his unique gifts, but he’s content with his quiet and peaceful existence.

That is, until an old friend presents him with an irresistible mystery, one that Mike is uniquely qualified to solve: far out in the California desert, a team of DARPA scientists has invented a device they affectionately call the Albuquerque Door. Using a cryptic computer equation and magnetic fields to “fold” dimensions, it shrinks distances so that a traveler can travel hundreds of feet with a single step.

The invention promises to make mankind’s dreams of teleportation a reality. And, the scientists insist, traveling through the Door is completely safe.

Yet evidence is mounting that this miraculous machine isn’t quite what it seems—and that its creators are harboring a dangerous secret.

As his investigations draw him deeper into the puzzle, Mike begins to fear there’s only one answer that makes sense. And if he’s right, it may only be a matter of time before the project destroys…everything.

Review:

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

Excellent idea and premise, although I wasn’t really convinced by the ending.

I liked the main character’s ability (eidetic memory): although convenient, alright, it’s also interesting. Mike’s take on it, on life the way he wanted to lead it, may have seemed silly at first, yet kind of made sense at the same time: somewhat resenting being “special”, because it set him apart, made people react to him differently, perhaps even more because he “wasn’t trying”… but also pushing him to want to know more about that odd and potentially twisted government project his old friend Reggie sends him on. Both a blessing and a curse, so to speak.

As for the project itself, “teleportation” in general is one of those ideas that have always fascinated me (and not only because long commutes are getting old fairly quickly). Space-folding is definitely a subset of this, with all the questions, the “hows” and the “what ifs…” it raises; the main theme behind the Albuquerque Door project grabbed my attention from the beginning, and I eagerly kept reading to see what would unfold (no pun intended), what the catch was, how the characters would react… I suppose Mike should’ve guessed sooner, perhaps? I don’t know. Everybody was behaving in shifty ways and sending mixed signals, which in retrospect was totally normal, so probably anyone, even a genius, would be confused at some point. These strange relationships between, on the one hand, scientists and engineers who all had their quirks, and Mike with his own quirks too on the other hand, were intriguing. Much like Reggie himself, as a reader, I could feel that something was wrong, yet without being able to put my finger on what exactly.

The Big Reveal didn’t disappoint: extremely logical yet unexpected enough, as there could have been several other explanations behind the science of the Door and what happened every time it was opened. This part of the novel had a Fringe-quality for me (the TV series, I mean), and was intriguing as well as horrifying, considering what it involved and implied for the characters. That was clearly a world-shattering revelation.

My main issue with this story was its last third, when the horror was given a face, so to speak. The ontological implications of the Door, the secret behind it, were more horrifying for me than what happened afterwards. By comparison, the “regulation system” (for want of a non-spoilerish term) seemed banal and a bit cliché. The way the characters chose to solve the issue was unfortunately a cliché as well, and I wasn’t really sold on the romance part either. (The latter was both really important, as it allowed to unveil the mystery, and enough on the side to keep me from rolling my eyes—too often, in many novels, characters are busy frolicking instead of attending more pressing matters such as saving the world.)

Conclusion: An interesting novel, with a fascinating theme that raises a lot of questions, prompting a lasting malaise in turn. However, the ending felt disappointing when pitched against the rest. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / August 9, 2015

Review: The Contrary Tale of the Butterfly Girl

The Contrary Tale of the Butterfly Girl: From the Peculiar Adventures of John Lovehart, Esq., Volume 2 by Ishbelle Bee

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

A dark and twisted Victorian melodrama, like Alice in Wonderland goes to Hell, from the author of The Singular & Extraordinary Tale of Mirror & Goliath.

Two orphans, Pedrock and Boo Boo, are sent to live in the sinister village of Darkwound. There they meet and befriend the magical and dangerous Mr Loveheart and his neighbour, Professor Hummingbird, a recluse who collects rare butterflies. Little do they know that Professor Hummingbird has attracted the wrath of a demon named Mr Angelcakes.

One night, Mr Angelcakes visits Boo Boo and carves a butterfly onto her back. Boo Boo starts to metamorphose into a butterfly/human hybrid, and is kidnapped by Professor Hummingbird. When Mr Loveheart attempts to rescue her with the aid of Detective White and Constable Walnut, they too are turned into butterflies.

Caught between Professor Hummingbird and the demon Angelcakes, Loveheart finds himself entangled in a web much wider and darker than he could have imagined, and a plot that leads him right to the Prime Minister and even Queen Victoria herself…

Review:

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

Like the first novel in this series, I had trouble rating this one. Some aspects I really found delightful, while others left me cold.

I loved the “mad” characters’ narratives—Loveheart’s and Heap’s. The way they tell of the events from their point of view, their disjointed thoughts, the apparently random use of capital letters, how they go about killing or maiming while wishing for custard and pursuing so many different musings, all these quite nicely reflected the fact they were all but human. Heap made for a glorious villain, while Loveheart was his lovely psychopathic self. I couldn’t help cheering for him, even though he was basically just as much a monster as his nemesis. Only he didn’t kill on such a large scale. Or did he? With him, you can never tell.

I also liked seeing White and Walnut back in action. They made for a funny duo, from their fumbling steps with the cursed jewel that sent them to Wales, to how they always ended up in dire straits due to being somewhat silly. In other circumstances, I’d file them as Too Stupid To Live; however, the tone here being clearly humorous and tongue-in-cheek, it left room for that, and it was alright.

On the other hand, a lot of the other characters were either quickly dispatched or barely etched, and very little development happened in that regard (though Mrs Charm and her medieval horror novels were amusing—I’d definitely read those if they existed, I mean, come on, “The Cannibal Bishop of Edinburgh” is a winning title, isn’t it?). I would’ve wanted Boo Boo, more specifically, to be more fleshed, as she was an intriguing girl, considering how and where she was brought up.

The action felt disjointed in some parts, which was fitting when it came to Loveheart, but caused the story to be stuck at times on killing and severed heads flying in the room, but little else. The ending dragged a little, too, the very last chapter opening towards a third novel, yet the ones in between taking maybe just wee bit too long to close up the remaining characters’ storylines.

Overall, a somewhat over-the-top novel that manages to make light of dark situations, with a charming twist of language, even though its rhythm itself was uneven. 3.5 stars.

Yzabel / August 2, 2015

Review: Little Girls

Little Girls by Ronald Malfi

My rating: 2 of 5 stars

Blurb:

When Laurie was a little girl, she was forbidden to enter the room at the top of the stairs. It was one of many rules imposed by her cold, distant father. Now, in a final act of desperation, her father has exorcised his demons. But when Laurie returns to claim the estate with her husband and ten-year-old daughter, it’s as if the past refuses to die. She feels it lurking in the broken moldings, sees it staring from an empty picture frame, hears it laughing in the moldy greenhouse deep in the woods…

At first, Laurie thinks she’s imagining things. But when she meets her daughter’s new playmate, Abigail, she can’t help but notice her uncanny resemblance to another little girl who used to live next door. Who died next door. With each passing day, Laurie’s uneasiness grows stronger, her thoughts more disturbing. Like her father, is she slowly losing her mind? Or is something truly unspeakable happening to those sweet little girls?

Review:

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

An idea that seemed creepy and interesting, but that just fell flat for me.

The beginning was rather slow, with descriptions that quickly became too tedious to go through, and often the dialogues felt useless and too on the “daily conversation” side. It worked at first, to establish the normalcy of the situation (as normal as it could be considering the circumstances); however, after a while, breakfast banter and the likes didn’t bring anything to the story, and were tiring to go through. I skimmed some of those parts, hoping to get to the next creepy bit, since creepy is what I wanted.

Too many of the characters’ actions and thoughts were told, rather than shown. Although it’s never easy when dealing with psychological aspects, as obviously a lot is internalised and cannot necessarily be “shown”, here I never felt close to the characters, as if I was meant to stand remote, and watch them without “feeling” anything for them—especially when flashbacks were concerned. At times, they would come out of nowhere, at length, and then mentioned again later to other characters, almost in passing: maybe it would’ve worked better for me if I could have read them at those moments, when they were more relevant, and not at some random point in the first chapters. When Laurie’s secrets started surfacing (what Sadie did to her, for instance), I couldn’t bother caring anymore. I could muster neither much interest nor compassion for Laurie or Ted—who had a knack also for coming up with his own crap when it wasn’t needed. (Seriously? You really had to tell ease your guilt by telling your wife, when clearly she was going through her father’s death and potentially getting crazy?)

The ending was frustrating. It hinted at a specific event, but without spelling it, and echoed in this way the fact that no answer was given as to whether Laurie was actually crazy or not. I still don’t know now if she imagined everything, was just stressed out, was haunted by an actual ghost, was plain crazy… In this regard, a more definite ending would have been more satisfying for me. It seemed to me that there wasn’t that much of a plot, and that the “ghost” didn’t do much for most of the story except just be there. Not to mention the twist about Laurie’s father, coming when I didn’t care anymore. I admit I finished reading because I expected an answer… and I never really got one.

I liked the setting, though: the creepy house with its old furniture, the well and the dilapidated glass house that were clearly a catastrophe in the making, the photographs of little girls kept in an album, what Laurie discovered in the garage. Still, it wasn’t enough to sell me on this novel. 1.5 stars.

Yzabel / July 24, 2015

Review: Abomination

Abomination by Gary Whitta

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

He is England’s greatest knight, the man who saved the life of Alfred the Great and an entire kingdom from a Viking invasion. But when he is called back into service to combat a plague of monstrous beasts known as abominations, he meets a fate worse than death and is condemned to a life of anguish, solitude, and remorse.

She is a fierce young warrior, raised among an elite order of knights. Driven by a dark secret from her past, she defies her controlling father and sets out on a dangerous quest to do what none before her ever have—hunt down and kill an abomination, alone.

When a chance encounter sets these two against one another, an incredible twist of fate will lead them toward a salvation they never thought possible—and prove that the power of love, mercy, and forgiveness can shine a hopeful light even in history’s darkest age.

Review:

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

A somewhat entertaining read with good ideas and a somber atmosphere, oozing despair, but also bits of hope at times. Unfortunately, I found it a bit too dry when it came to the characters and their actions, “telling” more than “showing” how they were, acted and felt.

The premise was interesting: a dark, dark age, with King Alfred trying to protect his kingdom against the invader, so full of despair that he ends up resorting to one man and the latter’s inhuman means of winning. Obviously, that sorcery turns sour, and the king has to send Wulfric, his best knight and friend, on the hunt for former Archbishop Aethelred and his army of abominations. My opinions on that part were mixed: I thought the hunt went on too quickly, somehow. On the other hand, it wasn’t the main focus of the story, or rather, it was only its first focus, so it’s a good thing that it didn’t take half the book either to be sorted.

The abominations, the sorcery that gave birth to them, were truly horrific, and I had no trouble picturing them, imagining the horror they must’ve been for the characters. These creatures had a sad side, too, being twisted without any possibility to fight back nor to revert to their original selves.
Historical accuracy wasn’t always this book’s forte. At times I could suspend my disbelief; at others, not at all (would anyone get rid of a dagger in a time where metal was quite precious, all the more with enemies being so close?). This happened when it came to language as well, with some names being really strange for that place and time (Indra…). As a story with action, it was alright, but let’s not too closely at the historical side here.

While the characters had to face challenges and trials that had some nicely ambiguous sides (Edgard’s motives were not pure, but neither were they completely evil), I didn’t really feel any connection with them. The revelations they had to come to terms with and the introspection needed from them seemed at times off-pace, at odds with other aspects of the story. I could also guess from the beginning what the twist about Indra would be, which was a bit disappointing: it couldn’t be kept a mystery from me, so when it was officially revealed, it just fell flat. (Indra herself was interesting, though, for the way she wanted to decide for herself, live the life she had chosen, not caring about whether being a woman would bar her from figthing, and also her decision to give a chance to the Beast.)

Conclusion: good ideas and vivid descriptions of the abominations, but not enough in terms of character strength to hold my attention.

Yzabel / July 8, 2015

Review: Serafina and the Black Cloak

Serafina and the Black Cloak by Robert Beatty

My rating: [usr 4]

Blurb:

“Never go into the deep parts of the forest, for there are many dangers there, and they will ensnare your soul.”

Serafina has never had a reason to disobey her pa and venture beyond the grounds of the Biltmore estate.There’s plenty to explore in her grand home, although she must take care to never be seen. None of the rich folk upstairs know that Serafina exists; she and her pa, the estate’s maintenance man, have secretly lived in the basement for as long as Serafina can remember.

But when children at the estate start disappearing, only Serafina knows who the culprit is:a terrifying man in a black cloak who stalks Biltmore’s corridors at night. Following her own harrowing escape, Serafina risks everything by joining forces with Braeden Vanderbilt, the young nephew of the Biltmore’s owners. Braeden and Serafina must uncover the Man in the Black Cloak’s true identity before all of the children vanish one by one.

Serafina’s hunt leads her into the very forest that she has been taught to fear. There she discovers a forgotten legacy of magic, one that is bound to her own identity. In order to save the children of Biltmore, Serafina must seek the answers that will unlock the puzzle of her past.

Review:

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

I will confess to requesting this book mostly because of its cover, in a “oh this looks pretty” moment. I don’t regret it, for the story itself was fairly entertaining as well, and cute to boot.

Serafina lives with her father in the basement of a huge mansion, in the last years of the 19th century in the United States. There’s a slight steampunkish atmosphere to that mansion, as it’s crammed full to the brim of trinkets and machines to make those work, notably the dynamo Sera’s father is in charge of. There’s horror, in the shape of the Man with the Black Cloak, catching children at night and making them disappear within the folds of his costume. There’s magical realism, with the forest, its legends, its old cemetery with a statue of an angel, and a quaint atmosphere, full of gentlemen and ladies, of little girls in nice dresses and little boys with their faithful dog and horses companions. There’s mystery and a sense of adventure, for Serafina knows all the corridors and chimneys and tiny places in which to hide, and moves around unseen, able to spy on people and thus to discover pieces of the puzzle that no one else had.

While the setting might look a bit far-fetched, with its dozens or so or people always staying at Biltmore and its over-a-hundred rooms (although it was indeed a real house, historically speaking), I thought it worked very well for this kind of tale, providing a greater than life place from which it would be nevertheless difficult to escape—and so, of course, the characters had to face whatever awaited them. Surrounded with hills and a mysterious forest, the mansion wasn’t the kind of house you could leave just like that, as doing so implied potential dangerous encounters in the wilderness. The mysterious man on the prowl in the halls at night lent a feeling of foreboding to the story, effectively trapping the children in their rooms… and those who would be walking around at night were sure preys.

Sera’s and Braeden’s friendship was so very cute. Sera never had any friends, due to having to stay hidden. Braden felt at odds with other children, and was wary of striking new friendships after what happened to his family. Two kids, not teenagers yet, still innocent in many ways—the rat-catcher girl living at night, the boy who preferred dogs and horses to other people—getting to find each other, understand each other better, appreciate each other no matter their differences. It was quite refreshing.

Too bad that I had my suspicions about who Serafina and the Black Cloak really were, and had them too early: the hints were easy enough to decipher for me (including a certain encounter in the forest). It didn’t matter that much, though; the story remained nicely enchanting and eerie. Foreshadowing can, after all, also lead to knowing yet to still eagerly awaiting the actual events and reveals themselves.

(If anything else, I also wondered about some of the adults’ reactions, especially the Vanderbilts sending their nephew away; in the light of the other children’s disappearances, it was somewhat logical, but the timing was weird. Wouldn’t that have put him in more danger, having to go through the forest at night?)

Nevertheless, this novel will likely be enjoyable for a lot of younger readers… and not so young ones as well, all things considered.

Yzabel / June 30, 2015

Review: The Red Mohawk

The Red Mohawk by Anonymous

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Everything seems peaceful in the small town of B Movie Hell until a mysterious serial killer in a skull mask topped with a red mohawk shows up and starts butchering the locals. Government agents Jack Munson and Milena Fonseca are sent to track down and eliminate the masked psychopath. But as they soon discover, the residents of B Movie Hell don’t want their help. This is a town like no other, and the locals have many dark secrets….

Already a hit in France and Germany with film rights optioned by Tobey Maguire’s Material Pictures, The Red Mohawk is a fun, outrageous and bloody thriller full of cinematic references and homages to many cult movies.

Review:

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

An entertaining novel, one that follows closely in the footsteps of a (bad) slasher movie, indeed—so I would advise to read it as a parody, and not take it too seriously, even though it deals with a serial killer and, well, plenty of dead people. It’s full of references to 70s and 80s movies and music, of tropes constantly played upon (the FBI agent with a bottle problem, the small town setting with its lot of people all knowing *something*, the serial killer escaped from an asylum…), and there’s no doubt that this could be easily turned into a movie as well, since its format is basically the same.

There’s lots of humour, lots of gore as well, and action of the cheesy type, that made me snicker on a regular basis. The characters are mostly stereotypes, obviously, but at least everybody gets their share of it: even though at first, I thought “my, the women are all underdogs here”, the guys don’t fare better, and end up the same way. The asylum part was definitely funny in a sort of gross way, as doubt was sown as to who was actually running it, and a certain FBI agent decided to show an inmate who was the boss. It’s… special, but it still made me laugh.

There *is* a plot, too, in spite of the apparent whatever-goes road the story takes at first. It’s not just random killing here and there. The Red Mohawk does have a plan and an objective, and let’s say there’s method to his madness.

An issue for me—which may have been an issue with my copy, but is perhaps still in the published book—was the half-done editing. I noticed too many mistakes and typos (affect instead of effect, grammar mistakes, repetitive expressions) that kept pulling me out of the story. While I enjoyed the latter, the writing style itself wasn’t that great. Also, the story seemed to peter out a little by the end, as if it was being rushed to its conclusion.

Nevertheless, in spite of the issues in style and editing, this novel provided me with a hefty dose of fun. 3.5 stars out of 5.

Yzabel / June 28, 2015

Review: Thirteen Days of Midnight

Thirteen Days of Midnight by Leo Hunt

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

When Luke Manchett’s estranged father dies suddenly, he leaves his son a dark inheritance. Luke has been left in charge of his father’s ghost collection: eight restless spirits. They want revenge for their long enslavement, and in the absence of the father, they’re more than happy to take his son. It isn’t fair, but you try and reason with the vengeful dead.

Halloween, the night when the ghosts reach the height of their power, is fast approaching. With the help of school witchlet Elza Moss, and his cowardly dog Ham, Luke has just thirteen days to uncover the closely guarded secrets of black magic, and send the unquiet spirits to their eternal rest. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

Review:

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

3.5 stars. Entertaining and somewhat funny at times, while still conveying a sense of danger—alright, maybe not terribly frightening per se for me, as I don’t frighten easily when reading books, but I think it has the right potential nonetheless. Half the Host at least was creepy in more ways than one, from the Shepherd with his glasses to the Prisoner with his shears… and even the Innocent, for the questions he raised (who would leash a *baby* as their pet ghost, really?!). The Host wasn’t a bunch of good guys, apart from a couple, and even those remained on the fence and never said the whole truth, only intervening at a “right” moment that could’ve been just a tad bit sooner for good measure.

As I’m a sucker for necromancy in general, of course I couldn’t help but look for the questions it raised. And there were several. The baby I mentioned, for starters. Why Luke’s father turned to such a type of magic, and why he bound such a large Host, when nothing at first indicated he even needed one (this is explained later in the book). Whether Luke would accept this part of his inheritance and be lured towards a desire for power, or try to remain who he was and have a normal life. Choices to make, and forgiveness. This wasn’t just about getting rid of a bunch of ghosts, but also choosing to protect or to condemn other people.

I liked the dynamics between Luke and Elza—there’s a smidge of a budding romance in there, one that doesn’t detract from the plot, and develops slowly: good! Luke realised he couldn’t clutch forever to his little life as one of the “popular” crowd, in the face of something much biger and dangerous. Elza was resourceful, and overall a nice person, trying to help people who had been treating her like an outcast just because she didn’t want to fit their mould. Holiday, too, was a bit of an ambiguous person: picking her friends among the popular ones and discarding the others, but not to the extent of becoming a mean girl. She was barely more than a crush, yet at least she was a believable one. As for the lawyer, well… Even though you don’t get to see him much, he was perfectly cast in his role.

Oh, and Ham. Ham the deerhound. A very short part of the novel is actually from his point of view, and that was quite funny. It would’ve been annoying if it had been longer; kept to a few paragraphs, it wasn’t, and definitely made me smile.

Other characters were less defined, unfortunately: Mark, Kirk, even Luke’s mother, who remains ill/asleep for most of the novel. That last one was a bit of a letdown, as in turn, it was difficult to properly get to know her and to share Luke’s worries for her for any other reason than “she’s his mom”.

Sometimes Luke’s reactions made me cringe, as he seemed to switch from one to the other real quick. It didn’t happen that often, and it could be explained by panic and worry; only it made me wonder why he’d get such reactions. (For instance, when it’s been made clear that you’re haunted by ghosts and that those have put a certain person in a coma, dragging that person to a hospital won’t be very useful, especially not considering all the people who die in a hospital.) A couple of times, too, I picked some absolutely obvious clues that totally eluded the characters (re: the familiar); on the other hand, all things considered, maybe that’s a case of being too genre-savvy on my part, so I can’t very well hold it against characters who were either totally new to the supernatural, or barely fledglings (Elza admitted herself she was self-taught).

There was a slight lull in the middle while the characters were powerless and trying to figure out what to do—not that Luke’s father had been very helpful to begin with. They came up with an interesting idea in the end, so I forgave them.

The writing was OK, nothing exceptional, nothing blatantly annoying either. It should flow nicely enough for the intended audience. (Also, my Kindle copy was a bit oddly formatted; however, this is an ARC, so likely to change.)

Conclusion: 3.5 stars rounded to 4, because in spite of the points I mentioned, I pretty much enjoyed it. The story is also self-contained, yet open-ended enough to leave room for a sequel (someone’s bound to come back and collect their dues here, not to mention what may or may not happen between Luke and Elza, and how their fellow pupils would react to it).

Yzabel / May 18, 2015

Review: Modern Rituals

Modern Rituals by J.S. Leonard

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

“A failed ritual annihilates modern life.”

Manhattan, NY: The E-Train slams into James Bixby, a strapping young artist on the rise, after a life-saving rescue attempt goes awry. Belfast, Ireland: A bullet severs Olivia Young’s spinal cord while she defends a doctor colleague–the second bullet pierces her heart.

Then they awaken–unharmed.

“Selected” and thrust into a deadly ritual, James’ and Olivia’s lives–along with the lives of five others–will decide humanity’s fate: surrender to the old Gods’ rule or live on in blissful ignorance. Follow their frantic struggle as Magnus–a secret organization of enormous reach and scientific prowess–directs the ritual to its gruesome end.

Dubbed as a Cabin in the Woods “remix,” Modern Rituals celebrates the movie’s ritual motif and compels readers with a rich universe propped upon science fiction and mythology. If you loved the fierce pace of Battle Royale and the fight to survive in Hunger Games, then Modern Rituals: The Wayward Three will quicken your heartbeat and leave your eyes red and bleary! Pick it up and strap in–once this story leaps off the page there’s no turning back.

Review:

I got a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.

This book is so difficult to rate: because I enjoyed the story, I really did (I have a fondness for tropes when they’re openly exploited as such). However, it’s also so terribly close to The Cabin in the Woods in its concept and execution, and without any acknowledgment of the movie (or, even further, of the other book that the movie supposedly plagiarised) that everything is a muddled cluster here. I’m not talking “it’s about a boy who goes to a school of wizardry, so it’s like Harry Potter” inspiration. I’m talking something even more blatant than this.

I liked the use of technology, computers and science to fulfill the needs of elder gods, assuage them and put them back to sleep. I liked how the people behind the rituals had to resort to archetypes/tropes: the Knight, the Succubus, the Virgin, the Fool, and so on. It cast the characters into specific moulds, forced them to play roles they wouldn’t have played otherwise. Besides, the blend of magic and technology is something that’s always fascinated me—perhaps because both seem to be the antithesis of each other, yet, in the words of A. C. Clarke, isn’t any sufficiently advanced technology indistinguishable from magic?

On the other hand, the tropes didn’t go far enough to my liking, in that in the end, mostly the characters did stay in those roles, and didn’t subvert them, when it would have been the perfect opportunity to do so.

I liked the twists, how the characters who were supposed to die got given a second chance, how the one who wasn’t supposed to join them actually did more than one would have thought, how the one who was supposed to die didn’t. However, there were a few but glaring holes in that, including how exactly the seven were transported into the school grounds, and the survival of… let’s say characters that shouldn’t have been able to fake their injuries or death. I mean, Olivia’s a nurse: nothing should escape her in that regard. If she pronounces someone dead, then that person is definitely dead, or at least so close to it that no recovery should be possible in such a short time.

I also wondered about the parts the characters were supposed to play, not only within the ritual itself, but in a meta way. I thought Olivia would be on par with James, as the female main protagonist, yet she was quickly overshadowed. A shame.

And… I still can’t overlook the similarities I pointed to at the beginning of my review. There are too many of them. I don’t know if I’ve missed something; I looked in the first and last pages of the novel to see if this was addressed at some point, and it just wasn’t (although one of the character clearly mentions the rituals having different settings throughout the world, “even a cabin in the woods”). I honestly don’t know what came first. Basically, I’m not even sure I should touch that with a ten-foot pole. You just… don’t do that. Is all.

Yzabel / April 25, 2015

Review: dEaDINBURGH

dEaDINBURGH: Vantage by Mark Wilson

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Edinburgh, 1645:
The bubonic plague rages. In a desperate attempt to quarantine the infected, the city leaders seal the residents of Mary King’s Close in their underground homes.

2015:
Mary King’s Close is reopened, unleashing a mutated plague upon the city residents.
The UK government seals the entire city. Declaring it a dead zone they seal the survivors inside alongside the infected. dEaDINBURGH is declared a no man’s land, its residents left for dead and to the dead.

2050:
Joseph MacLeod, born onto the cobbles of the Royal Mile and stolen from the clutches of the infected is determined to escape the quarantined city. Under the guidance of former –marine Padre Jock, he leaves the confines of the city centre and hones his archery and free-running skills.
Alys Shephard, born into an all-women farming community believes a cure lies in the south of the quarantined zone. The finest combatant in the dead city, Alys burns with anger. The anger of an abandoned child.

Something much worse than the infected waits for them in the south, in the form of a religious cult led by a madman named Somna who collects gruesome trophies and worships the dead body of a former celebrity. Added to this, the enigmatic Bracha, a supreme sadistic survivalist with his own agenda stalks the teenagers.

Review:

Perhaps more a 3.5 than an actual 4. Nevertheless, I enjoyed this novel, and will very likely pick volume 2 at some point.

While the theme of zombies is nothing new and has been overdone, especially in the past couple of years, dEdINBURGH‘s approach on it is character-driven enough for me to care about Joey and Alys, and wonder about all the people left in the city. There were some quirky ones in there, Bracha not being the only one. (I kind of liked Bracha, with his golfer attire and posh accent. Completely mad, and utterly dangerous, in the way I liked reading about. I wonder what happened to make him this way?)

The city itself was another strong point for me. I admit I’m probably being partial here, for the mere reason that for once, I could relate to the setting (I live in Edinburgh). After so many books set in US cities, being able to picture every place clearly, to compare with what Edinburgh is right now, was delightful in its own, twisted way. Areas I go through every day to go to work, abandoned buses, the Princes Street Gardens converted into a community and devoted to keeping actual gardens, the way basement flats were included (there are so many here)… It definitely influenced my enjoyment of this book, and I’m not going to hide it; conversely, though, it means that other readers may not like it as much if relating to the setting was an important point for them. (I think the descriptions were good enough in general to help picturing the setting even if you’ve never been there.)

I was somewhat sceptical about a few things: a couple of fight scenes, how the protagonists were able to escape infection (shouldn’t it be too late as soon as you’ve been bitten?), some of the remnants of the former city–the plague spread 30 years prior to the beginning of the story, so should there still be ways of getting electricity or finding camping gear? On the other hand, the revelation at the end may also be an explanation: maybe those were actually left there with a purpose in mind (also, it’s small enough a city, and a lot of people died in the beginning, so it can’t be approached it with the usual “US setting with plenty of people left to loot stores” idea

I’m still balancing between 3 and 4 stars here, but for now, considering the genuine enjoyment it provided me with, and my undying love for Edinburgh that basically makes me squee every time the city’s involved, let’s round it up to 4.

Yzabel / April 24, 2015

Review: Liesmith

Liesmith: Book 1 of The Wyrd by Alis Franklin

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Working in low-level IT support for a company that’s the toast of the tech world, Sigmund Sussman finds himself content, if not particularly inspired. As compensation for telling people to restart their computer a few times a day, Sigmund earns enough disposable income to gorge on comics and has plenty of free time to devote to his gaming group.

Then in walks the new guy with the unpronounceable last name who immediately becomes IT’s most popular team member. Lain Laufeyjarson is charming and good-looking, with a story for any occasion; shy, awkward Sigmund is none of those things, which is why he finds it odd when Lain flirts with him. But Lain seems cool, even if he’s a little different—though Sigmund never suspects just how different he could be. After all, who would expect a Norse god to be doing server reboots?

As Sigmund gets to know his mysterious new boyfriend, fate—in the form of an ancient force known as the Wyrd—begins to reveal the threads that weave their lives together. Sigmund doesn’t have the first clue where this adventure will take him, but as Lain says, only fools mess with the Wyrd. Why? Because the Wyrd messes back.

Review:

(I received a free copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review. However, at the time, it was an ARC, so some things may have changed.)

This is an extremely frustrating book to rate, because I cannot decide whether I actually liked it, or only liked parts of it, with the rest being OK, and nothing more. I’ve mulled over this for some time (since the previous evening, in fact, which is when I finished reading the book), and I haven’t come closer to a conclusion.

What I liked:

– The use of lesser known figures from Norse mythology (or, should I say, of figures that are less often mentioned and would deserve more spotlight). Everybody’s heard of Loki and Odin, and probably Baldr as well, but what about the others? This is both a strong and a weak point of this novel: if you know enough, it’s going to be alright, yet if you don’t, you’ll probably have to look up quite a few things (including places).

– The relationship: it was much closer to “two people falling in love” than to “two gay guys falling in love”. Sigmund displays both “male” and “female” traits—he comes across as “human” first and foremost. Lain isn’t even human to start with. And it doesn’t matter, and the fact that it doesn’t matter is what makes this great. I’m not a gender-driven person. I consider people as, well, “people”, not as “men” and “women”. Although the story comes close to brushing on sexuality issues at some point, with Sigmund’s father mentioning how he tried to react to his son “being gay”, it doesn’t go too far down this road. At the end of the journey, it’s about two individuals having feelings for each other, period. (The part about the reincarnated soul didn’t feel like it warped the character towards being female.)

– The Bleed concept. Not exactly original, but hey, I’m a sucker for plot devices that make the protagonist(s) fall into some nightmarish version of their world. Yes, I played Silent Hill. There’s a reason I like that type of horror-driven story.

What I disliked:

– The subverted tropes that weren’t so subverted in the end, such as the geeky characters. They felt like they were supposed to look like the stereotypical nerds, but wait, not exactly, because they meta it by cracking jokes at themselves, but by doing this they’re becoming the stereotype again, and… At some point, it was a bit too much. It may have worked for me if dealt with in a different way; unfortunately, it didn’t.

– The novel felt too long in parts, too meandering through useless happenings: gaming, the camping trip, etc. They made it read more like fanfiction, and I think they could’ve been shortened without their role in the story being lost along the way. Those parts were probably the reason why it took me so long to read Liesmith—normally, I should’ve been done in 3-4 days.

– Among such scenes were several of the romance ones. Granted, I find getting those right always tricky and difficult. Here, some were good, but others veered towards the mushy side, and contributed to that “fanfiction” aspect I mentioned above.

– Sometimes, the writing style was rather weird, with a connection made between two clauses using an italicised “([insert word])” device. However, sometimes it highlighted something that wasn’t so relevant, and it made me wonder what was the point.

– Sigmund’s friends. Their role didn’t seem so important, and made me wonder why they were here. Either they could’ve been downplayed, or should’ve been fleshed out some more. In my opinion, they kind of hung in between. (This is worth for many characters in general in this story. Sigmund was the only one that felt “real”.)

And after writing this review, I still can’t decide if I liked it, if I’d recommend it… Let’s say that on a scale from 1 to 10, I’d give it a wee 5, an “it’s OK” as far as opinion goes, and a “maybe” as to whether I’d recommend it or not.