PsyCop Briefs: Volume 1

Jordan Castillo Price
JCP Books, LLC
Reviewed by Nancy
5 out of 5 stars

Summary

Victor Bayne sees dead people for a living…and he sees them off the clock, too. After all, ghosts don’t confine their appearances to a psychic medium’s work hours.

From the macabre to the mundane, from titillating to tender, these PsyCop shorts feature stolen moments between the novels. Get a glimpse of Vic’s life with Jacob between cases, from both men’s viewpoints. Gain new insight on their psychic talents by accompanying them on odd jobs, shopping runs and family visits, or simply enjoy some downtime in the cannery.

The twenty short works range in length from flash fiction to novelettes, woven together to create a novel-length narrative of Vic and Jacob’s relationship from a fresh perspective. The stories are gleaned from various sources: anthologies, newsletters, and web, with four all-new pieces to tie the collection together and delve deeper into your favorite PsyCops' domestic life.

My Review

If you love Vic and Jacob in the PsyCop series, this is the perfect collection of stories to get your hands on!

While some of the stories stand well alone, others are better appreciated if you are acquainted with the characters from the series. I have not read all the books in the series yet, so it was a surprise to encounter characters I didn’t know, get a glimpse of the future, and see psychic abilities further developed. A few of the stories were familiar, but it was more fun to read them a second time as part of a collection.

Coffee O’Clock – Early on in their relationship, Jacob has spent nearly a week at Vic’s apartment, and while Jacob seems perfectly comfortable there, Vic is experiencing some anxiety. It’s fun to see Vic get all flustered when Jacob replaces his powdered creamer with half-and-half. I like being in Vic’s head, privy to all his neurotic insecurities and conversations with dead people. A little sad, but funny too.

Thaw - This sweet, humorous, short story shows a brief glimpse into the lives of Vic and Jacob, when they are not busy fighting crime. Who knew ice-skating could be so fun and sexy?

Mind Reader – Even though Crash is Jacob’s ex, he is still very much a presence in their lives. His friendship with Vic starts awkwardly, but I love their banter while they’re on a museum trip discussing mummies and ghosts. Crash is slutty and unpredictable, and fortunately for Vic, his empathic abilities are not nearly as honed as Vic’s abilities to communicate with the dead, allowing Vic to stuff his feelings under his belt.

Stroke of Midnight – This is one of few stories where the reader gets Jacob’s perspective on events. It’s Vic and Jacob’s first New Year together, and they are planning to attend a party hosted by Jacob’s ex, Keith, but work calls and Jacob goes alone. It was nice getting into Jacob's head and knowing how strong his feelings for Vic are. I never knew Vic had a cleft chin.

No Sale – The flirtatious salesman and his fancy knives don’t have a chance with Jacob, not while Vic is seeing ghosts. I love Vic’s self-confidence in this one.

Most Likely To… – A nice little glimpse into 80’s hairstyles and Vic’s past.

Jock Straps on Sale – Vic needs some Florida water and Crash needs a ride. I love how Crash unsettles Vic and never fails to make me laugh.

Piece of Cake – Another short featuring Crash, this time while Vic is trying to bake Jacob a cake.

In the Dark – Vic is far more comfortable stuffing himself with meat pastries than making small talk with Jacob’s friends. An encounter with a ghost and a chat with Jacob’s ex, Keith, leads to mutual understanding.

Let the Chips Fall – Before I met my husband, my home was a mishmash of eclectic pieces I picked up at flea markets, yard sales, and from friends. I feel Vic’s pain. Why agonize over paint colors when white goes with everything?

Memento – Old t-shirts, yard work, and sweet lovin’. Told from Jacob’s point of view, his tenderness and desire shines through their relationship. Vic is so lucky!

Impact – I haven’t read the stories beyond Camp Hell, so seeing Vic help Jacob explore his own abilities was a nice surprise.

Everyone’s Afraid of Clowns – A creepy, unsettling story that is just perfect for Halloween. Vic and Jacob are out buying painted pumpkins for another party that Vic is not thrilled about attending. Jacob becomes curious when Vic recalls his first experience seeing a ghost clown in an old movie theatre. Instead of going to the party, they are off to hunt ghosts. Clowns are not the only scary things!

Waiting Game – Loved this short told from Vic’s partner Lisa’s point of view. She uses her precognitive talent to read between the lines, causing Vic and Jacob to blush.

On the Road – Vic and Jacob are planning to head out to visit Jacob’s parents. Jacob is very focused on his trip preparations and attention to details, while Vic is worrying about getting there too early. Hilarious little story that shows even Mr. Perfect can make mistakes.

Wood – Vic and Jacob are helping Jacob’s Uncle Leon put together some bookshelves. I love the stories that focus on lighter moments between the two men. This was fun, humorous, and sexy.

Off the Cuff – As much as I love clothes that fit well, I don’t envy Vic’s experience with the tailor. Still, it was a thoughtful gesture on Jacob’s part and Vic really needs some new clothes.

Locked and Loaded – This started out a little tense, with both guys on high alert. Jacob didn’t have his sidearm, but proved that a strong voice and confident stance goes a long way.

Inside Out – This is a fun little prequel to the PsyCop series and one of a few stories told from Jacob’s perspective. He and his partner, Carolyn, are going to his first PsyCop meeting. While he’s excited about it, Carolyn is more interested in fixing Jacob up with a new man. As Carolyn is a telepath, Jacob has to be very careful what he says to her. As much as I enjoyed this story, I think it would be better appreciated by gaining some familiarity with the characters and their world. Vic’s misadventure with a jelly donut is hilarious!

Witness – This story packs a punch! What starts as a dull training exercise that Vic has absolutely no interest in, turns into a satisfying mystery and further solidifies the bond between Vic and Jacob.

Ink and Shadows

Rhys Ford
DSP Publications
Reviewed by Nancy
3 out of 5 stars

Summary

Kismet Andreas lives in fear of the shadows.

For the young tattoo artist, the shadows hold more than darkness. He is certain of his insanity because the dark holds creatures and crawling things only he can see—monsters who hunt out the weak to eat their minds and souls, leaving behind only empty husks and despair.

And if there’s one thing Kismet fears more than being hunted—it’s the madness left in its wake.

The shadowy Veil is Mal’s home. As Pestilence, he is the youngest—and most inexperienced—of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, immortal manifestations resurrected to serve—and cull—mankind. Invisible to all but the dead and insane, the Four exist between the Veil and the mortal world, bound to their nearly eternal fate. Feared by other immortals, the Horsemen live in near solitude but Mal longs to know more than Death, War and Famine.

Mal longs to be… more human. To interact with someone other than lunatics or the deceased.

When Kismet rescues Mal from a shadowy attack, Pestilence is suddenly thrust into a vicious war—where mankind is the prize, and the only one who has faith in Mal is the human the other Horsemen believe is destined to die.

My Review

Having already read two Rhys Ford stories, I knew I was going to enjoy her first novel in a new urban fantasy series. I expected complex and believable characters, frenetic pacing, and a unique storyline. While the story mostly met my expectations, there were a lot of flaws that were difficult for me to overlook.

First, the pacing could have been more consistent. There was so much exposition in parts of the story that slowed my reading down enough that I had to set it aside and pick up something else. At times, the story moved along at such a blistering pace that I had to reread sections to make sure I didn’t miss anything important.

While I enjoyed the world building, imagery, grittiness, and horror elements, the wordiness and awkward sentences got to be wearisome, confusing, and painful at times. The shifting points of view made me dizzy and I often found it difficult to figure out which character was performing the action.

“Standing against one another in the kitchen, they touched casually, although Death was cautious, knowing Ari would take even the slightest hint of intimacy and run away with it. Ari had laid siege more than once around the dark-haired immortal, each time falling back and licking his wounds while promising never to approach again, then swearing under his breath when he renewed pursuit. Now they were at a rare peace, Ari circling and looking for an opening while Death was seemingly unaware.”

Rhys Ford knows how to write scary scenes and conjure horrific imagery. I really loved the descriptions of Kismet’s nightmarish, dreamlike paintings of the sinister characters that dwell behind The Veil and the believable portrayal of his struggle with the heroin that keeps those visions at bay. Unfortunately, The Veil is thinning and the shadows of the immortal world are clashing with humanity.

I loved the relationship and banter between The Four Horsemen – Death (Shi), War (Ari), Famine (Min), and Pestilence (Mal) and the human, Kismet. This is not a romance, though the budding friendship between Mal and Kismet and the love and respect between the two oldest Horsemen, Shi and Ari, lead me to think there will be some emphasis on the romance in future installments.

I appreciate the diversity of the characters and the inclusion of well-rounded women.

Despite the flaws in this story, I am invested enough in the characters and look forward to continuing the series.

Singer of Souls

Adam Stemple
Tor Fantasy
Reviewed by Nancy
4 out of 5 stars

Summary

Leaving his life of petty crime and drug abuse behind, young Douglas flees from Minneapolis to Edinburgh, Scotland, to his stern but fairminded Grandma McLaren, who will take him in if he can support himself. Fortunately, few cities are friendlier than Edinburgh to a guitarist with a talent for spontaneous rhyme, and soon Douglas is making a decent living as the busker who can write a song about you on the spot.

But Edinburgh has its dangers for the unwary. The annual arts festival, biggest in Europe, draws all manner of footloose sorts, and when a mysterious but alluring young girl offers him drugs, Douglas's resolve fails him.

What follows isn't what he expects. Suddenly, Douglas can see, in all their beauty and terrifying cruelty, the fey folk who invisibly share Edinburgh's ancient streets. Worse, they can see him, and they're determined to draw him into their own internecine wars--wars that are fought to the death.

My Review

Singer of Souls is a very dark fantasy about a young musician and recovering heroin addict who leaves Minneapolis to start a new life with his grandmother in Edinburgh, Scotland.

Douglas draws in the crowds by using his guitar and voice to compose personalized songs about passers-by. While living with his grandmother and making a decent living, he manages to stay clean until he meets an unusual woman who presents him with a white powder that steers him off the path to recovery.

Instead of achieving the desired high, Douglas' life takes an unpredictable turn when the powder gives him the ability to see Edinburgh's invisible fey inhabitants.

I gobbled up this short, fast-paced, magical and very dark fantasy in two sittings. I loved the characters, the setting and the ability of the music to enchant and transform its listeners. The faeries and other magical creatures are not beautiful or enchanting. This is a dark and gritty urban fantasy with a horrifying ending that makes me want to drop everything and grab the sequel.

Midnight Riot

Ben Aaronovitch
Random House Ballantine
Reviewed by Nancy
3 out of 5 stars

Summary

Probationary Constable Peter Grant dreams of being a detective in London's Metropolitan Police. Too bad his superior plans to assign him to the Case Progression Unit, where the biggest threat he'll face is a paper cut. But Peter's prospects change in the aftermath of a puzzling murder, when he gains exclusive information from an eyewitness who happens to be a ghost. Peter's ability to speak with the lingering dead brings him to the attention of Detective Chief Inspector Thomas Nightingale, who investigates crimes involving magic and other manifestations of the uncanny. Now, as a wave of brutal and bizarre murders engulfs the city, Peter is plunged into a world where gods and goddesses mingle with mortals and long-dead evil is making a comeback on a rising tide of magic.

My Review

I’m a fan of Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files series, even though I got tired and stopped reading after #9. After a while the stories became too repetitive and I didn’t see any significant growth in Harry’s character. His smart-ass comments that were amusing in the earlier books started getting annoying towards the end.

In the hopes I would find a fun read similar to the Dresden books, I picked up Midnight Riot. It wasn’t a bad book, but it wasn’t a great one either. Peter Grant was an interesting character. He is a constable in London’s Metropolitan Police who wants to be a detective, but his superior thinks he is better suited for pushing paper. Finding a headless corpse in The Actors’ Church in Covent Garden and talking with a ghost who witnessed the crime draws him to Thomas Nightingale, the force’s investigator of supernatural crimes. Under Nightingale’s patient tutelage, Peter learns how magic works and how to hone his investigative skills. He is kept very busy as the body count increases and his negotiation skills are called upon to help resolve the differences between the magical rulers of the Thames River. This is when the story seemed to lose focus for me. There were two stories in one, and neither was compelling enough to keep my interest. I found my attention wandering numerous times and took breaks to read other stories.

I loved that Peter is mixed race, his father a failed jazz musician and his mother a cleaning woman from Sierra Leone. While I enjoyed how the ethnic and racial diversity of London was portrayed, I couldn’t really get a feel for the city. I need more than street names, mention of famous landmarks, and references to TV shows or movies I haven’t seen or heard of. Too many acronyms became confusing and I found myself going back in the story to find out what they stand for.

Overall, the story was fast-paced, but not especially gripping. I liked Peter’s voice, his witty sense of humor and his scientific approach to magic. But like Harry Dresden, his sexual maturity never exceeds the level of a teenage boy, even though he is attracted to his colleague, Leslie, and Beverly Brook, daughter of Mother Thames. I’m not sure if I’ll continue with the series.

On fire

PACIFIC FIRE
Greg Van Eekhout
Tor Books 2015

Reviewed by carol
Recommended for fans of capers, Locke, UF

 ★    ★    ★    ★  

Water mages. Bounty hunters. Kraken magic. Pirates. Fans of fast paced, fantastical-element thrillers should love Pacific Fire. Clever world-building, a wry dose of humor, and occasional winks at genre conventions all made for an entertaining read.


While connected to events in California Bones, Pacific Fire takes place ten years after the evens in Bones. Sam, magical child of the former ruler of the L.A. Basin, and Daniel, an osteomancer, have been on the run ever since, never in one place for more than a few weeks. It’s a lonely existence, and Sam is desperate for a friend. Or girlfriend. The chief of the L.A. Department of Water and Power tracks them both down to their Salton Sea hideout with a warning. Daniel’s former guardian Otis has a new plan to dominate the magical factions fighting over Los Angeles, and wants Sam to act as the power source. Daniel determines to bring the fight to Otis, but events sideline him, leaving Sam in charge. Sam heads to a safehouse run by some Emmas, clones of one of the more brilliant L.A. osteomancers. From there it is a race to disable Otis’ plans.


Characters were interesting. At least, I felt they were interesting, but I may have been misled by my involvement with the prior book. Told from a third person limited point of view, the book blurb definitely misleads when it quotes Sam’s thoughts in first person. I was actually glad for the change in voice, but be forewarned.  The Emmas were particularly stand-out characters, perhaps because Van Eekhout had to take pains to distinguish them. I might have exclaimed, “go, girl” when Em said:
“I didn’t partner up with you because I have a crush on you. I didn’t partner up with you because I was swayed by your charismatic leadership qualities. I’m not interested in being your sidekick while you see redemption, or closure, or trot ahead on a quest to fulfill your destiny. Not everything is about you, Sam.“

It’s a ‘huzzah’ moment of self-awareness, guaranteed to hit most female readers in the feels. I’m a person that’s reasonably willing to follow the yellow brick road of a well-made story, so it was only at the finish that I realized she was the sidekick, even if she had her own motivations for going.  Likewise, on reflection, I realized Sam’s voice didn’t make any sense. One of the quotes I highlighted–because I loved it–actually shouldn’t have been thought, because Sam didn’t attend school in any normal sense of the word. I realized VanEekout was taking some shortcuts with Sam’s voice, and that it sounded far more contemporary–and inappropriate–for the child of a thief, and someone who has been on the run for ten years:
“There was something about Em that made him think of high school hallways and solving mysteries. Also, he liked her nose.”


Daniel hasn’t evolved too far from California Bones, except for an increase in paranoia. He still allows guilt to eat at him, but his friendships keep him from getting too far off track. The dialogue between him and his best friend Moth is always entertaining:

“Daniel took another long sip. ‘You know that thing about true friends, how they’re the ones who can tell you anything?’
‘Yeah,’ said Moth, a little puffed up.
‘I hate that thing.'”

The emotional center of the book wobbled midway through and then lost control entirely at the finish. Like The Rook, the story needs to walk the knife’s edge of risk and humor; it needs to take itself seriously enough that the reader worries about the outcome, but not so seriously that we can enjoy a self-aware wink on the way. When the stakes get truly high, with a series of devastating outcomes, the story loses its balance. Not terribly, and potentially saveable in the the third book. I will also add a general note of disapproval for the only technically resolved ending. 

Fans of The Rook (review) and Lies of Locke Lamora will likely enjoy this series by VanEekhout. I’m still looking forward to the third book, but I think I’ll wait on adding this to the library. Many thanks to NetGalley and Macmillan-Tor/Forge for the review copy.

We aren't in London Anymore

FOXGLOVE SUMMER
Ben Aaronovitch
Gollancz 2014

reviewed by carol

★    ★    ★    ★    1/2

I haven’t yet been able to review a Peter Grant book immediately after finishing. I suppose I’m basking in book afterglow. Once again, Aaronovitch writes an engrossing, unpredictable urban fantasy, perhaps his best yet.
A good story, a generous sprinkling of dark police humor, decent police procedural all combine for a read that fully occupied my Sunday afternoon. 

Chuckles as I started:

Sarcasm about family:
“I sighed–policing would be so much easier if people didn’t have concerned relatives. The murder rate would be much lower, for one thing.”

About procedure:
“‘I’m fairly certain you’re violating our human rights here,’ she said.
‘No,’ I said with the absolute certainty of a man who’d taken a moment to look up the relevant legislation before leaving home.”

About official-speak:
“I made a mental note to wheedle the list of old codgers out of Nightengale and get it properly sorted into a database. Hugh’s ‘grapevine’ might be a useful source of information. If I’d been about four ranks higher up the heirarchy I’d have regarded it as an opportunity to realise additional intelligence assets through enhanced stakeholder engagement. But I’m just a constable so I didn’t.”

Okay, maybe that’s not that funny. I thought so, but then I’m the sort to read the corporate bulletins, marveling at the abuse of language.

What I really love about Aaronovich–srsly, now–is that he brings a much looked for but seldom found level of social commentary to his urban fantasy. Grant has dark skin, and is painfully obvious out in the posh suburbs. At one point, there’s a nice little aside when he notes the casual joking racism from an officer he’s just met. He considers his normal snide comment, half laughing, half calling it out but then decides to let it go with the assumption that the officer wouldn’t even recognize the rebuke. I’m always impressed the way Aaronovich weaves multiculturalism into his tales, in the most ideal of ways: acknowledging a different cultural experience, but not fetishizing it or diminutizing the truth of the experience. Grant understands the because he is a dark-skinned copper he will end up being ‘poster boy’ for the investigation. There’s a world of cynicism, weariness and acceptance in the role he plays for the suburban police. 

Grant has his own prejudices about the country, partly because he feels so out of his element, only going into the country when required on school trips.
“The air was still fresh but the sun was already sucking up the moisture from the fields and you didn’t need to be chewing on a straw to know it was going to be another hot day.”

There’s also writing that is nicely balanced between description and action, occasionally even making a foray into lyricism:
“The pack [of reporters] has swept back into the village less than ten minutes after they’d left, and come boiling up the cul-de-sac like the return of a tide, licking at my heels as I ran up the path and only stopping at the hedge line because it was held by a special constable called Sally Donnahyde who was a primary school teacher in her other job and so wasn’t going to take any lip from a bunch of journalists. The kitchen was at the back of the house, but I could still here them as a restless murmur, like surf on a pebble beach.”

Oh yes, I liked the mystery, one of the most coherent storylines yet. The supernatural take is interesting, even if it comes to a somewhat familiar ending, but I appreciate the modern twist. It did trouble me somewhat that this might be a plot point that comes back to bite Peter in the butt, which led to unpleasant echoes of Dresden. But again, that’s what fairy tales and mythology is about, putting the storyteller’s spin on a cultural archetype.

Characterization is decent, with the majority of time spent on Peter. I don’t mind; he’s an interesting, thoughtful lead. I came to like his country partner. This time, Beverly Brook’s role seemed appropriate and a little more fleshed out, if still slightly incoherent (must she always speak in riddles? must we have weird watery dalliances?) 

In a rare moment for me, I would have liked a little more punctuation; at times it takes a minute to figure out the inflection (see above quote). But that’s a stylistic quibble.

The ending, perhaps, was almost the least satisfying part of the story. Oh, don’t worry; everything wraps up nicely with no nasty cliffhangers, except that giant multi-book arc that’s going on. No, it is that the ending seemed a little too cinematic, and meant to appeal to the current UF reader, instead of being more character consistent. But that’s me, and I’d be happy to discuss below with spoiler tags.
Still, Peter Grant remains one of the most consistently satisfying UF series out there, and I remain committed to reading whatever Aaronovitch releases.

Four and a half country stars

from my blog at  https://clsiewert.wordpress.com/2014/12/17/foxglove-summer-by-ben-aaronovich/

The Essential Bordertown

Edited by Terri Windling and Delia Sherman
Tor Books
Reviewed by Nancy
4 out of 5 stars

Summary

Bordertown. Once a normal American city, now a perilous nexus between the World and returned Elfland. From the banks of the addictive Mad River to the all-night clublands where young elves and humans fight and play, all the way up to glittering dragon's Tooth Hill, where high society seals itself away from the street--this is no city to trifle with.

Bordertown. A place of hidden magic, flamboyant artists, runaway teenagers, and pagan motorcycle gangs. The city you always knew was there.

Bordertown was created by Terri Windling, multiple World fantasy Award-winning editor, artist, and writer. Now thirteen of modern fantasy's finest writers return to Bordertown once again, to tell a new cycle of tales of the city. Here are Charles de Lint, Ellen Kushner, Patricia A. McKillip, Felicity Savage, Delia Sherman, Midori Snyder, Caroline Stevermer--and here is bestselling author Steven Brust with "When the Bow Breaks," chosen as a finalist for the Nebula Ward after the hardcover publication of this volume.

Bordertown. It's an attitude and a state of mind. It's elfin light and human sweat. It will never let you go.

My Review

This is a fun and satisfying collection of stories about runaways. Some are running to something or away from something. Some are human, some halfie, and others are elves, or True Bloods, as they call themselves.

Bordertown is a city between the Human World and The True and Only Realm that is inhabited by the Fae folk. Elvin magic does not work in the World and technology does not work in the Realm. Both work in Bordertown inconsistently and with interesting effects.

Between each story is a little guide to language, people, hospitality, elvin etiquette, food, nightlife, and the peculiarities of humans.

The stories were sad, humorous, engaging and made me want to run away from home.

I especially loved the touching “Argentine” by Ellen Steiber, set in Bordertown’s El Barrio and told from the perspective of a young Elvin thief. This beautifully written story explores love, death, grief, and redemption. I loved its vibrant colors, its soul, and its distinctly Latin feel.

Foxglove Summer. Read even if its winter.

Foxglove Summer
Ben Aaronovitch
2014 Gollancz

Reviewed by Carol

Recommended for fans of supernatural mysteries

 ★    ★    ★    ★    1/2

 

I haven’t yet been able to review a Peter Grant book immediately after finishing. I suppose I’m basking in book afterglow. Once again, Aaronovitch writes an engrossing, unpredictable urban fantasy, perhaps his best yet. A good story, a generous sprinkling of dark police humor, decent police procedural all combine for a read that fully occupied my Sunday afternoon. 
 
Chuckles as I started:

Sarcasm about family:
“I sighed–policing would be so much easier if people didn’t have concerned relatives. The murder rate would be much lower, for one thing.”

About procedure:
“‘I’m fairly certain you’re violating our human rights here,’ she said.
‘No,’ I said with the absolute certainty of a man who’d taken a moment to look up the relevant legislation before leaving home.”

About official-speak:
“I made a mental note to wheedle the list of old codgers out of Nightengale and get it properly sorted into a database. Hugh’s ‘grapevine’ might be a useful source of information. If I’d been about four ranks higher up the heirarchy I’d have regarded it as an opportunity to realise additional intelligence assets through enhanced stakeholder engagement. But I’m just a constable so I didn’t.”

Okay, maybe that’s not that funny. I thought so, but then I’m the sort to read the corporate bulletins, marveling at the abuse of language and meaning.

What I really love about Aaronovich–srsly, now–is that he brings a much looked for but seldom found level of social commentary to his urban fantasy. Grant has dark skin, and is painfully obvious out in the posh suburbs. At one point, there’s a nice little aside when he notes the casual joking racism from an officer he’s just met. He considers his normal snide comment, half laughing, half calling it out but then decides to let it go with the assumption that the officer wouldn’t even recognize the rebuke. I’m always impressed the way Aaronovich weaves multiculturalism into his tales, in the most ideal of ways: acknowledging a different cultural experience, but not fetishizing it or diminutizing the truth of the experience. Grant understands the because he is a dark-skinned copper he will end up being ‘poster boy’ for the investigation. There’s a world of cynicism, weariness and acceptance in the role he plays for the suburban police. 

Grant has his own prejudices about the country, partly because he feels so out of his element, only going into the country when required on school trips.
“The air was still fresh but the sun was already sucking up the moisture from the fields and you didn’t need to be chewing on a straw to know it was going to be another hot day.”

There’s also writing that is nicely balanced between description and action, occasionally even making a foray into lyricism:
“The pack [of reporters] has swept back into the village less than ten minutes after they’d left, and come boiling up the cul-de-sac like the return of a tide, licking at my heels as I ran up the path and only stopping at the hedge line because it was held by a special constable called Sally Donnahyde who was a primary school teacher in her other job and so wasn’t going to take any lip from a bunch of journalists. The kitchen was at the back of the house, but I could still here them as a restless murmur, like surf on a pebble beach.”

Oh yes, I liked the mystery, one of the most coherent storylines yet. The supernatural take is interesting, even if it comes to a somewhat familiar ending, but I appreciate the modern twist. It did trouble me somewhat that this might be a plot point that comes back to bite Peter in the butt, which led to unpleasant echoes of Dresden. But again, that’s what fairy tales and mythology is about, putting the storyteller’s spin on a cultural archetype. 

Characterization is decent, with the majority of time spent on Peter. I don’t mind; he’s an interesting, thoughtful lead. I came to like his country partner. This time, Beverly Brook’s role seemed appropriate and a little more fleshed out, if still slightly incoherent (must she always speak in riddles? must we have weird watery dalliances?) 

In a rare moment for me, I would have liked a little more punctuation; at times it takes a minute to figure out the inflection (see above quote). But that’s a stylistic quibble.

The ending, perhaps, was almost the least satisfying part of the story. Oh, don’t worry; everything wraps up nicely with no nasty cliffhangers, except that giant multi-book arc that’s going on. No, it is that the ending seemed a little too cinematic, and meant to appeal to the current UF reader, instead of being more character consistent. But that’s me, and I’d be happy to discuss below with spoiler tags.
Still, Peter Grant remains one of the most consistently satisfying UF series out there, and I remain committed to reading whatever Aaronovitch releases.

Four and a half country stars

 

Finder

Emma Bull
Tor Books
Reviewed by Nancy
5 out of 5 stars

Summary

An explosive urban fantasy thriller from the Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy Award-nominated author of Bone Dance and War for the Oaks. Bull returns to fantasy for her hardcover debut--a tale of magic and murder in the streets and back alleys of a human city on the edge of Fairie.

My Review

Bordertown is a city between the Human and Fae worlds. While elven magic does not work in the human world and technology does not work in the Elflands, both work in Bordertown inconsistently and with interesting effects. Humans, elves, and halflings, troubled folks who are running away from their pasts, or have trouble fitting in anywhere else, inhabit the city of Bordertown.

Orient is a human with the special ability to find missing things and people. His best friend is Tick-Tick, a highborn elf estranged from her family, and ace mechanic. Detective Sunny Rico enlists Orient’s help to find a killer, which leads them to a dangerous drug purported to change humans into elves. Meanwhile, a mysterious illness is endangering the elven population.

I read this book for the first time in 1995. Though I have forgotten a lot of details over the years, I remember how it broke my heart. Little did I know that just six months later, I would suffer the same fate as Orient.

Reading this book a second time brought back a lot of painful and wonderful memories of my close friend and made me all weepy. This story is riveting, fast-paced, magical, and heartbreaking.

Not only is this a satisfying mystery and Borderlands a rich and vibrant city, it is a thoughtful and moving exploration of friendship, family, loss, grief, coming to terms with one’s past, and going forward. It broke me and stitched me back together.

Warmly recommended to anyone who enjoys deeply character-driven, devastating, and hopeful urban fantasy.

Midnight Riot by Ben Aaronovitch

 

 MIDNIGHT RIOT

Ben Aaronovitch

Recommended for Urban Fantasy/Supernatural detective fans

Reviewed by Carol

★ ★ ★ ★  1/2

 

 

I enjoyed this book so much that I didn’t want to immediately review it because I wanted to remain immersed in Peter Grant’s London. It’s the urban fantasy take on the detective novel, a police procedural that gives a close-up view of a modern London with undercurrents of magic and magical beings. I love the tone of this book–wry and humorous, but doesn’t let the humor take over the scene.  It’s one thing to be ready with a quick line, another entirely to go through one’s entire life wisecracking, especially in times of great danger. Aaronovitch walks that delicate line like a pro.

Peter is a probationary constable who is about to be shifted into a paperwork division.  He and his co-probationary officer and friend are guarding the perimeter of a murder scene when he sees a ghost.  Peter is a very likeable hero, wry, intelligent, loyal, aware of class and race issues around him, and while he has family issues that include a heroin-dependent father, he doesn’t spend every moment agonizing and reliving the past.  We are told he did well in the sciences in school, just not well enough to get him to the next levels. It’s magic’s gain, as he sets his analytical skills to understanding the magical world, using his free time for experiments. I love those little experiments, because it breaks up the action and makes Peter’s experience seem all the more real–who wouldn’t be asking a lot of questions if they discover there are magical beings and magic in the world? Many people would be asking the ‘hows’ and ‘whys;’ Peter attempts to answer some of the questions himself through the scientific method, to the surprise of his technologically-challenged boss.

There are few wizards left, and I liked that Aaronovitch didn’t make magic easy. It takes Peter hours of study and practice to advance, and we get a sense of the effort and thought Peter puts into it. It isn’t until a third into the book when he finally raises his own werelight, and we are ready to cheer with him when he does:  “Fuck me, I thought. I can do magic.” It’s a refreshing change from the all-powerful heroes of other books.  Similarly, he’s aware that even though he has two years on the force, he still makes mistakes, such as when he and Leslie “obtrusively” piled out of the car during surveillance.

Aaronovitch has a gift for bringing life to his characters, even the most bit parts. Molly doesn’t talk at all, and we still get a very good sense of her, her dedication and her potential.  Seawoll, an initially scary superior, and Leslie’s immediate boss, gets imbued with humanity when Peter watches him question witnesses. We’re also given a good look at the subtleties of the police department, when Seawoll “interrogates” Peter after a shooting.  “Then we continued lying through our teeth while telling nothing but the truth.”  It’s a perfect tone that conveys so much about the officers’ loyalty, the bureaucracy of the department, and the unspoken understanding to follow the letter of the law without coming close to the spirit.

I loved it, and the re-read was even better than the first time through. There are a lot of British-isms, but most of them can be puzzled out from the surrounding sentence(s). A great read, and I’ll be looking for a hardcover to add to my own library.

Great lines:

“I left in a hurry before he could change his mind, but I want to make it clear that at no point did I break into a skip.”

“Number two was a magical library where all the direct treatises on spells, forma and alchemy were kept, all of them written in Latin and so all Greek to me.”

Four and half investigative stars.


Cross posted from my blog, along with many other reviews:  http://clsiewert.wordpress.com/2012/12/21/midnight-riot-by-ben-aaronovich/

Inspector Hobbes and the Blood

INSPECTOR HOBBES AND THE BLOOD
Wilkie Martin
2013 Witcherly Book Company

reviewed by Carol

Recommended for fans of pulp, puns, supernatural detectives

★    ★    ★    1/2 

Don’t you have those days when your brain just needs a break? I’ve been swamped this summer by the seriously un-fun Understanding Pathophysiology. After reading four or five chapters a week, there’s times when my brain craves a bit of shut-off, but my body isn’t ready to sleep.  That’s what television is for, right? And sports? But honestly, I’d rather read about silly people and needless danger than watch it, and that’s where Martin’s Unhuman series with Inspector Hobbes fits in. Well, Inspector Hobbes isn’t senseless so much as Andy Caplet is, the diffident reporter assigned to follow Hobbes. Think Sherlock Holmes with slightly more bestial tendencies and Lou Costello as Watson. Think modern English town with supernatural beings just trying to live their lives without harassment, whether its chomping on old bones or standing in a field thinking trollish thoughts. Think–dare I say it–puns. 

Andy Caplet is a struggling reporter unexpectedly assigned to follow Inspector Hobbes, one of the fearsome successes of the local police force. The assignment is surprising as Andy’s most notable story to date was his unsuccessful attempt to do a piece on a show-winning hamster, resulting in nasty bite and an unflattering bit of press. Hobbes is focused an unlikely series of events relating to Mr. Roman, whose house was burgled, a violin stolen, and Mr. Roman subsequently found dead, apparently a suicide. When Andy follows Hobbes to the cemetery where Mr. Roman was found, he discovers a newly-opened grave and is almost victim to a ghoulish cover-up. It is the beginning of Andy’s introduction to the unhumans around him, and he decides to stick with Hobbes in hopes of an award-winning story. Perhaps even a book! 

The basic premise of Inspector Hobbes is done well. The unfortunate Andy contrasts nicely to the enigmatic, powerful and intelligent Hobbes. Plotting moves quickly from event to event, establishing interesting characters along the way. Particularly entertaining was Mrs. Goodfellow, Hobbes’ live-in cook, housekeeper and friend, with her dental obsession and her tendency to tread quietly. I appreciated the the way Martin hints to the reader and Andy that something about certain characters may not be quite human, a much more enjoyable type of character development than the long-winded info-dump. Hobbes, of course, is the biggest mystery of all–what is he, exactly? And does it matter? 

“In truth, and in his own way, he’d looked after me. He was an enigma. He was a monster. He was a policeman. He was someone I out to be writing about.“

Andy, being more of the anti-hero type, frequently leaps to the wrong conclusion, misleading himself and the reader. Although bumbling, he isn’t quite incompetent, and is sincere, so I found him more tolerable than in the second book, Inspector Hobbes and the Curse.


One of the few problems I had with the writing was what appears to me as a tendency to run-on sentences and excessive commas. It could just be my personal fondness for semi-colons and colons showing, but I did find it initially distracting. I think as the action picks up, the commas diminish–or else my mental filter blotted them out. An early example:

“As I landed and turned around, the magazine fluttering to the carpet like a dying pigeon, the blood pounding through my skull, my shin bruised from a sharp encounter with the table, the old lady, standing by the sofa, gave me a gummy smile. Though I coulgh have sworn she did not have a single tooth left in her head, I thought a positive response was appropriate.“

As a side note, although I love paper books, this might be one to read on e-reader. Martin has a tendency to sprinkle a number of English idioms–and by English, I mean country-cultural specific words. And, speaking of abuse of the English language, there’s a story about Hobbes’ stuffed grizzly bear: 

“The bus knocked him into a music shop, where his muzzle became entangled in an antique stringed instrument that suffocated him. And so my sad tale ends, with a bear-faced lyre.“


It was fun and entertaining–and didn’t mention molecular biology once. A perfect beach read, if you should be so lucky as to have time at the beach.



Thanks to Julia at The Witcherly Book Company for providing me a copy to review.

cross posted at  http://clsiewert.wordpress.com/2014/08/06/inspector-hobbes-and-the-blood-by-wilkie-martin/

California Bones by Greg Van Eekhout

California Bones
Greg Van Eekhout
2014 Tor Books


reviewed by carol

★    ★    ★    ★    ★   


You ever have that experience where you finish a book, and are left feeling all discombobulated; not sure exactly what time it is because the sun set while you were reading, and actually kind of hungry because you might have missed dinner? California Bones did that to me. 

It wasn’t an instant draw; it had blipped across my radar long enough to make it onto my TBR list, but it wasn’t until bookaneer’s review that I was motivated it to move it up. I picked it up from the library and was sucked into its pages until a solid two hours later. Unbelievably good, it was a breath of fresh air–the forceful Southern California Santa Anas, perhaps–blowing away an urban fantasy landscape cluttered with vampires and werewolves. Van Eekhout combined an almost-now Los Angeles with fast-paced heist, built it on the foundation of serious family drama, added an upbringing in a thieves’ gang, and wrapped the whole thing in some of the more interesting magic I’ve read in this year. 

“‘Our bodies are cauldrons,’ he said, ‘and we become the magic we consume.’ He often said things like that, things that circled around the perimeter of Daniel’s understanding, sometimes veering just within reach before darting away into ever-widening orbits. Daniel could remember the names of osteomantic creatures and their properties–mastodon for strength, griffin for speed and flight, basilisk for venom–but he grew lost when Sebastian spoke of the root concepts of magic.“

The story begins with a quick flashback to Daniel Blackhand’s childhood, learning magic from his father Sebastian; then forward to a powerful moment his family is ripped apart by the Hierarch; and then a third jump into current time with Daniel working the open-air market. He lands from one frying pan into another fire, only to be offered the ultimate thieves’ job, complete with the opportunity to recover a very personal item.  At the same time, Gabriel, a bureaucrat and minor relative of the Hierarch, has the sense of unfamiliar magic in the vacinity and is troubled that some of the city powers are starting to talk of sedition. When he meets the handler and dog who were chasing Daniel in the market, it sets him on Daniel’s trail, and brings an unexpected chance to confront his own past.
The writing is enjoyable; fast paced, descriptive enough to cause a vivid image or two but never lingering too long, naval gazing at the scenery (I’m talking to you, Way of Kings). An almost perfect tone for the story, it waxes a bit lyrical when describing the magic of osteomancy in all its grim, powerful, glory. I found the degree to which Van Eekhout could make the The Hierarch and his six underlings menacing remarkable, despite their rare appearance.


I liked characterization of Daniel, an ambivalent hero who is mostly trying to keep his head down after the destruction of his childhood. Gabriel is an interesting foil, essentially using the same strategy within the Hierarch’s organization. Side characters are fleshed out enough, and the fact that they are able to still surprised Daniel seems entirely possible. I rather enjoyed Emma and Max, who each played rather interesting sidekick roles to Daniel and Gabriel.


Plotting is quick and ultimately, contained a few unexpected twists. The heist is great fun at the beginning, the standard untouchable target. If it also employs a standard set-up of recruiting the team and planning for the gauntlet, at least it comes complete with humor:

“Emma Walker had observed this routine for three consecutive weekdays before fishing his coffee cup from the trash and identifying the contents of his flask: tequila.
Who the hell put tequila in their coffee? It was disgusting and obscene, and it made everyone on the crew feel better about what they were going to do to Sergeant Ballpeen.“

During the heist, crew member Emma takes a moment to wax poetic:

“‘All my being,’ Emma whispered, ‘like him whom the Numidian seps did thaw into a dew with poison, is dissolved, sinking through its foundations.’
‘That’s from a poem,’ she said with some despair to the crew’s stupefied expressions.
‘Yeah, Shelley,’ Moth said. ‘It’s just we usually don’t do poetry during jobs.’“

The humor nicely contrasts the dark feel of the osteomantic magic, and the compromising situations the team members find themselves in. At the moment, the first three chapters are available for free on Van Eekhout’s website. I highly suggest you give them a try.  All in all, it really worked for me, and I’m looking forward to immersing myself a second time–and eventually adding it to the paper collection.

cross-posted at my site:  http://clsiewert.wordpress.com/2014/07/03/california-bones-by-greg-van-eekhout/

The Minority Council by Kate Griffin

The Minority Council by Kate Griffin
Orbit, 2012


Reviewed by Carol
★   ★   ★   ★  1/2


 It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.

Well, sort of. Take two dislikeable tropes, refrigerator females and the drug scourge, and put them in the hands of a fine storyteller, set it a city with a millennia of history, and fill it with fascinating characters, particularly a reincarnated schizophrenic sorcerer, and you get something pretty amazing with a little side helping of ambivalence.  

The Minority Council is the fourth (and last?) book in the Matthew Swift series; however, he does guest appearances in the Magicals Anonymous series. Charmingly, the next book, Stray Souls, is hinted at in a couple of places. At any rate, Matthew Swift is a former sorcerer, reincarnated along with the electric blue angels who escaped from the phone lines. He becomes the reluctant hero, the Midnight Mayor of the city, charged with protecting London from magical destruction. Matthew, however, has a problem caring about the larger issues, and does much better on the concrete, individual level. He only ends up managing the Big Concerns when individuals he comes to care about are affected. The Minority Council doesn’t break this trend; in the first few pages, he meets Meena, a magic user of stunning power, and when she calls him for help, he finds himself involved in London’s underground magical drug trade. At the same time, a local council worker, Nabeela, is trying to storm into the Mayor’s office, intending to bring her cause to his attention. Little does she know that the scuffily dressed man sneaking in the service entrance is, in fact, the Mayor. She convinces Matthew he needs to see one of the teen hooligans who has been somehow changed and the investigation gains momentum.


I continue to love Griffin’s voice. She uses a first person narrative starring Matthew/the electric angels (he switches from ‘I’ to ‘we’ regularly), which does fascinating things with characterization. But it is the overall voice, a mixture of pensive and resolute, wonderment and observant that I enjoy, a voice that perfectly fits with Matthew’s split character.  I found myself wondering if Matthew the sorcerer is indeed ‘there’ at all, or if his personality is merely the electric angels impersonating humanity. It could be because I’ve been reading Richard K Morgan’s downloaded personalities, but I can’t help but see the electric angels as the same sort of phenomenon.

Then there’s the writing itself. Griffin uses words well, specific, slightly unusual choices that highlight and play with meaning. At times, shades of Douglas Adams. At times, flat out great. “At first I hadn’t realised that the voice had been addressed to me, but when I felt an expectation next to me, I looked round, and there she stood.“

The overt plot of the book largely surrounds the relationship between Matthew and his Alders. Having been on the receiving end of the Alders’ willingness to use lethal force, Matthew isn’t inclined to cut them any slack. Matthew sums up the problems between himself and his Alders early on: “In theory they serve the Midnight Mayor, soldiers in his army… They were magical, they were dangerous, a lot of them were dabblers in high finance, and if all of this wasn’t enough, they liked to wear black and talk in short sentences to let you know just how mean they were. They were the banes of my life and it was of only some small satisfaction to think that we were, in our own quaint way, the bane of theirs.“

A note of levity was introduced with Kelly, Matthew’s new Alder P.A. I’m afraid I’m becoming quite fond of her, always dangerous in a Swift book. But she of the eternal optimism made me laugh out loud when she points out: “‘You say that, Mr. Mayor!’ she exclaimed. ‘But you say it in your special brave voice and, you know, I’m really not sure if I can trust your special brave voice these days because, if you don’t mind me saying so, Mr. Mayor, there’s a very thin line between being brave and six months of physiotherapy and liquid foods.‘”

My problems with the series are hard to describe. As much as I wish it wasn’t true, bookaneer’s observation of Griffin’s use of the refrigerator female is sadly apparent. I admit to disappointment, particularly in a female author who ought to be aware that she’s killing off most (all?) of the strong women characters, good or bad. My other challenge centers around Matthew’s naivete. This is book four in Matthew’s reincarnation, and I started to feel like it is entirely too easy to use him as a cat’s paw in a larger scheme. He may feel like he is an actor, but remains largely an agent. Realizing that was one of the moments that made me question whether a sorcerer of Swift’s knowledge and experience was actually in the body at all, or if it was only the electric angels believing they are Swift–what other excuse explains the simplistic way they react with only shreds of intuition and little information?


However, Griffin does an excellent job balancing the drama of the story with humorous touches, one reason the series stands out among urban fantasy. There’s sophistication in the moral issues, and it isn’t always entirely clear that Matthew is right, however understandable his thirst for vengeance might be. The magic and magical creatures continue to impress, updated to a modern recognizable version–the magic of crime scene tape, bus passes, fairy dust, the vestments of the homeless. Overall, highly recommended, but this is one series I strongly suggest be read in order.


crossposted at  http://clsiewert.wordpress.com/

The Midnight Mayor --kept me up until midnight

The Midnight Mayor

Kate Griffin

2010

 

 

Reviewed by Carol

★   ★   ★   ★  1/2

A solid urban fantasy read. 

The second installment of the Matthew Swift series, The Midnight Mayor continues to follow recently reincarnated Matthew Swift and the co-inhabitants of his body, the electric angels. Once again, Matthew regains consciousness near a public phone, lying in the ground in the dark and the rain; cold, burned, and bloody. As he tries to orient himself, hooded faceless spectres start to stalk him. He manages to escape after some clever displays of sorcery and goes to find the Whites, the graffiti magicians, for healing. Vera, as enigmatic as always, gets him fixed up with Dr. Seah. Dr. Seah has questions about his injuries: “Now, while every case is, like, unique, I gotta tell you, electrocution by telephone leading to the appearance of a cross carved in the palm of the victim’s hand is unusual even for central London. You seriously have no idea how it got there?“

In the midst of recovery, The Alderman intrude. Much like conventional politicians, the Alderman (and women) are largely concerned with managing the magical influences of the city for London’s greater good. Unfortunately, they have their suspicions about Matthew’s role in the recent murder of the Midnight Mayor, the head of the Alders, and it’s mutual antipathy from the start: “The Alderman who’d spoken was young, male, and destined to rule the world. He had dark blond hair, slightly curled, a face just bordering on deeply tanned, bright blue eyes, a hint of freckle and a set of teeth you could have carved a piano with. If I hated the Aldermen on basic principle, I hated him on direct observation.“


Mayhem ensues, and before long, Matthew is roped into solving the mystery of the systematic destruction of London’s magical protectors. The religious fundamentalist Oda is once again assigned to Matthew, and this time there are resources from the Aldermen. There’s also a missing teenage boy who Matthew is determined to find. 

**********************
The plot moves relatively quickly, but as a sorcerer who is connected to the magic of the city, events are often broken up or transitioned through long descriptive passages about the city. At times it worked, and at other times, less so. Although some scenes created the feel of London to a non-Londoner, some were so focused on observing the surroundings that they didn’t quite have a sense of weighty history, nor the bemused sensory experience of the angels. There’s a definite moral ambiguity to many aspects of the storyline, and I find that it was one of the aspects I enjoyed about the book–there wasn’t necessarily facile answers, and that achievement of the goals comes with costs. I enjoyed the complexity of the plotting–a lot of questions are raised in the search for answers, much like real life. Are the angels benign? Is the Alders’ goal of protecting the City of London at the expense of the people worthwhile? Is there such a thing as a selfless motive?


Magical elements continue to be fascinating, from London’s warding magic traditions, to magic linked to the city at time of day, to more modern incarnations of evil, such as the ‘saturate,’ a giant fatty blob no doubt based on a recent story. I continue to enjoy the fascinating magic of the Whites–”it was realised that the image of a great eye painted at the end of Platform 14… was a scrying tool of infinitely more value than your traditional bowl of silver water, and that nothing bound as effectively as a double red parking line burnt chemically into the earth“–and the magic surrounding a pair of shoes was inventive and yet logical. The updated three hags was also a fun twist on a fairly common myth.


Narrative style has changed slightly from the first book. I remain fond of Swift’s voice. For those who might have been bothered by the poetic deconstruction in the first, the second book is far more coherent, with Swift and the angels gradually assuming more of a uniform identity, and structure largely in paragraph form, complete sentences and all. 

Characterization remains a strong point, and I felt there were enough support for the side characters that they obtained individuality. I was impressed by how much Griffin was able to imply about the former Midnight Mayor from the contents of his pockets. Dr. Seah remains one of my favorites with her slightly impaired bedside manner (“Dr. Seah knew the sound of a refusal when she heard one, and knew that the only way to get round these things, was to ignore them before they could become admissible in court”), along with the ghostly nurse of the (almost) abandoned NHS hospital.
There’s definitely a fair amount of humor in the book, which helps lighten the fairly significant consequences. Griffin does a nice job of not allowing humor to overshadow the action or to sacrifice character for the quip. The humor is often subtle or slightly skew:


“‘A large number of people, I suspect. But they wouldn’t know what to make of it.’
‘Anyone… of alternative inclining?
‘I’m guessing you’re not referring to sex, biology or morals?‘”

“I looked him up and down. He seemed like a principled man, the last thing I needed to see.”

I enjoyed it a great deal, and have many more scribbled page numbers with quotes to prove it. I’ll have to settle for adding it to my library and re-reading at leisure.



cross posted at  http://clsiewert.wordpress.com/2014/02/14/the-midnight-mayor-by-kate-griffin/

A Madness of Angels.

A Madness of Angels
Kate Griffin
Orbit, 2009

Reviewed by Carol

★   ★   ★   ★

Sometimes an author captures my imagination, and as long as they fail to become blazingly incompetent, I’m along for the ride. So it was with A Madness of Angels.

Matthew Swift wakes up from death, lost, confused, unaware its been two years since he died, as for him it feels like moments ago. The terrible and fascinating hook to his story is that as a sorcerer, he was dialing the phone as he died–and the phone lines are the home of the electric blue angels, the bits and pieces of humanity spun out over the wires and taking on life of their own. When Matthew is brought back to life, he is no longer alone in his familiar body–he shares it with the electric blue angels, along with their talents.

“We be light, we be life, we be fire!
We sing electric flame, we rumble underground wind, we dance heaven!
Come be we and be free!”
 

Griffin’s concept is given life (pardon the pun) by a fascinating use of language, a type of lyricism rarely seen in urban fantasy and which reminded me as much of scat and bebop as a written narrative.  And, as I pointed out in a Booklikes post, more than a little bit of Fame’s “I Sing the Body Electric.” Although I enjoy a wide range of music, my reading experience and my musical listening experience are almost always two separate things; Griffin provided me a rare experience and enjoyment with her lyrical writing. With the musicality of the narrative, all I needed was a semi-coherent plot and I was sold. Thankfully, the rest of the details were more than competent.

A hallmark of many types of urban fantasy and mysteries are the emphasis on location. The setting is virtually a character, providing mood, spiking thought, inciting action. London is a chief player in this series, and with loving and full detail, it is clear Griffin is no mere tourist (I once read an apocalypse book set in a New York that the author very clearly had only visited–if seen in person at all). Some places are so iconic that they take on a role beyond their actuality. Hollywood is one of those places–dirty, dingy, filled with the outcasts of humanity and cockroach-infested diners, the imaginary Hollywood bares little resemblance to the reality. Not this London. This one is very real,with tired commuters, overflowing rubbish bins, and confusing and obscure tube system. I liked it, and because the angels are new to the corporeal experience, their joy in the details, in all their glamorous and dirty variety, was contagious.

If the rest of the characters weren’t quite as developed as Swift/Angels and London, they were still reasonably done. There is a nice ambivalence surrounding Matthew’s former teacher Bakker, for his role in teaching him the craft and his ultimate path. Oda, an anti-magic fanatic, has little finesse to her arc, but is done well enough that it added an element of tension. Sinclair and Charlie were very interesting and not at all predictable. 

Magic has an unusual flair as well. It is supposed to be ‘urban’ magic, evolving to its place and time, and one of the first malevolent creatures encountered is a trash-beast. Then there’s the magic of the city–the rituals of public transport gating, the mystery of the ATMs. I loved the graffiti-magic angle; and a perfect twist on the out-front yet underground language of the city, decipherable to those in the know. The magical healer connected to the NHS cracked me up. The city creatures are perhaps not precisely magical, but echo real life cities with an abundance of pigeons, rats and foxes. The Beggar King and Bag Lady were nice magical elements, echoing the parable of those least among us.  Griffin cleverly avoids the over-powered magical protagonist as well. As Matthew is so new to his body and abilities from the electric angels, there’s believable limits on what he is reasonably able to accomplish, despite the abilities of both sorcerer and electric angels. 

Plot is perhaps the least unusual aspect of the story, but with so much going on with narrative and magic, it’s rather nice to have something sort of straightforward. Swift and the angels seem to agree on revenge, and part of toppling a mighty sorcerer means toppling the pillars that support him. I’m not entirely sure this worked logically in any sense of the word, since everyone was on the defensive after the first went down, and because the sorcerer seemed more than capable of taking care of himself without said supports. The mystery surrounding Matthew’s death was rather unsurprising, as well as the ultimate denouement.


That said, I’ll undoubtedly read it again–a story that hinges on narrative, character and world-building is enjoyably revisitable. The enthusiasm Swift and the angels have for life is contagious, and make it a moderately uplifting read. This is one that needs to be added to my personal collection.  Highly recommended, but only for those that can tolerate a certain poetic laxity of narrative.

cross posted at  http://clsiewert.wordpress.com/2014/02/06/a-madness-of-angels-by-kate-griffin/

Bride of the Rat God by Barbara Hambly

BRIDE OF THE RAT GODBarbara Hambly

Kindle, 2011, Open Road

Reviewed by Carol

★   ★   ★   ★  1/2

After the first two pages, I admit, I was worried. Over-dramatic, stereotypical imagery: a helpless, pursued heroine, a moonlit night, bloody hands, steep cliffs. I persevered with faith in my fellow reviewers, and discovered the campy beginning was only a scene from Chrysanda Flamande’s latest movie, “Kiss of Darkness.” Her sister-in-law, Norah, and she are at the movie’s premiere when an elderly Chinese man tries to get their attention “about a matter of life and death.” Pushed off as yet another admirer, it is the first in a series of strange events that have Norah worried.

The first edition of this book has a 50′s pulp cover, terribly misleading to both the story and writing style. Past president of the SciFi Fantasy Writers of America, multiple Locus award nominee and Nebula winner, Hambly is a highly skilled and successful writer. Her bibliography ranges from epic other-world fantasy to Star Wars and Star Trek novels to historical mysteries to historical fiction, but nothing in her writing comes close to the fast and loose sensation-focused writing of pulp magazines.  Bride combines her best: a lavish historical setting with a disconcerting mystery of supernatural origins. I loved the beautiful, eerie atmosphere, Hollywood in the 1920s, the characterization, the plot–it is almost easier to say what I didn’t like. This is a book I’ll be re-reading.

The summary: Widowed in the war, Norah has come to L.A. from England at the request of her sister-in-law, Christine, lead actress for Colossus Studios. Christine is mistress of Frank Brown, the studio owner who is under heavy pressure to buy out another studio–or be bought out himself. Besides being Christine’s companion, one of Norah’s jobs is taking care Christine’s three Pekingese dogs. In true Hollywood fashion, they go everywhere with her, even to the movie set. A multi-thread plot line explores the movie-star lifestyle of Christine/Chrysanda, filming the latest movie, a mysterious elderly Chinese man that seems to be following them and Norah’s feelings of loss and growing attraction to Alec the cameraman. 

Hambly skillfully builds a sense of tension and supernatural influence from the beginning.

“They turned their heads at the sound of her voice, three flat-nosed faces weirdly human, like enchanted children deformed by fairy malice.“

“The room looked strange in the dim light, as rooms did late at night when one had been wakened from uneasy sleep.“

Characters were a high point for me. Although I was slightly overwhelmed with names in the beginning, it soon sorted out. For the most part, all the characters felt multi-dimensional. The Big Bad Evil developed, mysterious at first and then gradually more present. Special note should be made of the wonderful, realistic description of the three dogs who play an important role in the plot–Black Jasmine (with one eye), Chang Ming and Buttercreme (the princess). It was no surprise to read the afterward and learn that Hambly has four Pekingese dogs. She’s able to capture the sense of three different dog personalities without excessive anthropomorphizing their behavior.

“Then, with an air of having settled something to their own satisfaction, the three of them scurried to her feet and licked apologetically at her ankles, her hands, and their own noses, three flat, anxious faces gazing up at her, begging to be forgiven, hoping she understood.”

“Across the court the greater Ned dropped a bean sprout; the little dog bolted in instant pursuit. For the next five minutes he lay, holding the vegetable upright between his paw and licking it perplexedly, before giving up.“

Hambly struck the perfect balance in characterization. Although Christine runs the risk of being a stereotypical star, dramatic and self-centered, her clear affection for Norah and rough upbringing save her from being completely unlikable and ridiculous. In many ways, she becomes the supporting character to Norah’s story. Likewise, though Norah could have been a facile stereotype of the dowdy, downtrodden lady’s maid, she actually has a good deal of influence and determination in her own life as well as Christine’s. She and Christine are often more like partners in crime, particularly when thwarting unwanted admirers.

“Like all her gestures, the movement combined glowing theatricality with genuine warmth. Everything Christine did was fifty percent sham, but the other fifty percent, Norah reflected, was pure gold.“

“Norah answered the apology her sister-in-law intended rather than the worlds themselves.“

One of the challenges in writing a period piece is acknowledging the racism and sexism in a way that is consistent without completely alienating the modern reader. Without being too spoilery, the artifact that begins the trouble in this story belongs to a demon/god of the Manchu tribe, who was then worshipped in secret after the Manchu took control of the Chinese empire. To me, Hambly acknowledged much of the racism in the 20s in the way the Western characters interacted with various Chinese people, but without engaging in the worst offenses. One clever way this is dealt with is through Christine’s ‘love’ of all things Chinese–although she is confused by Chinese history and why Chinatown “doesn’t have those decorative round gates.” It emphasizes the appropriation of the ‘exotic’ without any real understanding or appreciation.

The plot ends up being rather straightforward, with most of the tension developing as characters gradually recognize and then manage their danger. Hambly keeps events moving, from the beginning movie premiere, to an after party in a cafe/bootlegger’s, to Christine and Norah’s hillside home. It doesn’t take long before a murder occurs and an actor goes missing. Production is whisked off to the desert, partly to escape the press and the rumors, and partly due to script.

I have a quibble or two, which I suspect can be blamed on the Kindle edition. There’s a few rough transitions where I didn’t realize we changed scenes or speakers. I suspect that might have been better understood by visual separation in a paper version, and the Kindle ruined the formatting. Although I don’t usually notice it, there was a misspelling or two in the Kindle as well. On the other side, I enjoyed Hambly’s afterward and note on her dogs. I honestly don’t think I have any other quibbles.

Overall, an immensely satisfying read that went down in a couple of days. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why it came to my attention, but when I recognized the title on a Kindle special, I snapped it up. Thankfully, I can now re-read to my heart’s content without angering the Librarian Gods.