Can't believe it took me so long to read this one: it is a DELIGHT! Hambly's signature exquisite, sensual prose and smart women being excellent are onCan't believe it took me so long to read this one: it is a DELIGHT! Hambly's signature exquisite, sensual prose and smart women being excellent are on full display, but with bonus RIDICULOUSLY FUN AND ADORABLE demon-hunting Pekengese dogs!!! Instant favourite! ...more
*I received this book for free from the author in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my revi*I received this book for free from the author in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
A Marriage of Undead Convenience is exactly what it wants to be, short and sweet but with a nice bite to it. I’d almost call it cosy, for all that that Shadowcroft Manor itself is no such thing (it needs a proper scrub-up!); it’s a lovely wish-fulfilment romance, where the stakes are plenty high but nothing really terrible is going to happen, so you can just settle in somewhere comfortable to enjoy the story.
You know exactly what you’re getting from the (fabulous) opening line;
It was Margaret Dunhaven’s opinion that a marriage which constrained her to drink stale tea could not be described as “convenient” in any meaningful sense of the word.
Burgis does a great job at gently making it clear that Margaret doesn’t need a man, or marriage, while letting Margaret realise for herself that it is perfectly acceptable to want one, especially one who supports and appreciates and admires you. And there’s no getting around the fact that this kind of marriage is extremely convenient for a woman in this sort of setting (stale tea aside) – as Margaret herself says, there’s a great deal a married couple can do together that an unmarried woman can’t do at all, and why not avail yourself of that, when the man is a great one?
I love stories about scholars, and characters in general who have intense passions, and Margaret’s deep study of the Rose of Normandy delighted me. Her scholarliness infuses every aspect of her character and never goes forgotten, from her careful handling of age-old texts, to reflexively maintaining the order in which they’re stored, to how wonderfully appalled she is at seeing original sources mistreated – and that’s without going into her rivalry with another, complete asshat of a researcher who I badly wanted to punch in the face. What a despicable, yet depressingly believable, little man!
It’s the attention to detail that elevates A Marriage of Undead Convenience, like the (much better than the real-life version, imo) in-universe explanation for the name of the War of the Roses, or what exactly an ancient gem would look like, having not had the benefit of modern jewel-cutting techniques. It adds just a little bit of sparkle – the details, I mean, not the gem-cutting! – so that a sweet novella also has…a little ginger? I don’t know how to put it, but I suspect most readers know what I mean anyway.
By the Blood of Rowans was eerie and lovely and fairly dark, and wow I wanted to push most of the characters off a cliff (not the MCs, who are sweetheBy the Blood of Rowans was eerie and lovely and fairly dark, and wow I wanted to push most of the characters off a cliff (not the MCs, who are sweethearts, but…pretty much everybody else). For a murder-mystery it wasn’t very investigative, which I appreciated because murder mysteries are not actually my thing; instead it’s quite…introspective might be the word? It felt slow and quiet, even though it’s packed full of so many different flavours of hate. I did think a few things came together a bit too neatly, but the twist-reveal of the motive for the murders was excellent, and I really did like the relationship between Ash and Rowan.
Ash’s sperm-donor still needs to be pushed off a cliff, though.
It’s more than enough to make me extremely excited for Rooyen’s upcoming Finnish magic school book, My Name Is Magic, which I literally cannot wait for. !!!
Merged review:
By the Blood of Rowans was eerie and lovely and fairly dark, and wow I wanted to push most of the characters off a cliff (not the MCs, who are sweethearts, but…pretty much everybody else). For a murder-mystery it wasn’t very investigative, which I appreciated because murder mysteries are not actually my thing; instead it’s quite…introspective might be the word? It felt slow and quiet, even though it’s packed full of so many different flavours of hate. I did think a few things came together a bit too neatly, but the twist-reveal of the motive for the murders was excellent, and I really did like the relationship between Ash and Rowan.
Ash’s sperm-donor still needs to be pushed off a cliff, though.
It’s more than enough to make me extremely excited for Rooyen’s upcoming Finnish magic school book, My Name Is Magic, which I literally cannot wait for. !!!...more
I knew this book was doomed the second it was revealed that Judas didn't really betray Yeshua - he didn't know the Romans would kill him! That wasn't I knew this book was doomed the second it was revealed that Judas didn't really betray Yeshua - he didn't know the Romans would kill him! That wasn't supposed to happen!
And like - no. That's such a cowardly change to make. That immediately means you're not committed to wrestling with the 'reality' of these characters, you don't want to deal with the complicated messiness of them. What kind of Judas isn't the betrayer? What's the point of examining the figure/character at all if you're going to make him a - a milksop, a patsy?
And my GODS, why does he consider himself so evil when it was a naïve mistake, not intentional? Pathetic. Whiny. NOPE.
The opening chapters from Yeshua's PoV were sublime, but the moment we left that, the prose became very dull and stilted. What a boring Satan; what a boring Hell. Absolutely zero incentive to finish. And this is without going into the jerky writing rhythm, the leaps in logic that made no sense (I still don't understand how Yeshua made the jump from what Judas said to understanding Judas was the one who would betray him, and I read that passage four times in case I missed something), and the sentences that end oddly and feel incomplete.
*I received this book for free from the author in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my revi*I received this book for free from the author in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
HIGHLIGHTS ~roads of running water…in the sky! ~very mysterious sentencing guidelines ~remember to wash your fingers
I don’t think it would be completely inaccurate to call Talio’s Codex something of a procedural drama set in a (low-magic) fantasy setting; we’re following the titular Talio as he rejoins the legal sphere after a decade away (and a serious disgrace). There is a case, then some more cases, and the forming of a small law firm; Talio and his business partner are also invited to join a committee that makes recommendations for potential new laws. But it seemed to me that the vast majority of the page-time went to Talio’s developing or renewed relationships, which is why I’d call it more drama than procedural. I found that disappointing, but it’s not an objectively good or bad thing, just a matter of personal taste. Other readers will probably be grateful not to be completely drowned in legal minutiae!
Alas, that’s kind of what I was here for – I wanted meticulous, detailed worldbuilding, and I very much wanted to see what another world’s legal system might look like. But the worldbuilding (with a few exceptions) is simplistic almost to the point of insult, and the only difference between the Western justice system and Talio’s is that Talio’s is too new – and too pre-Industrial – to have all the laws we do. (See the sub-plot wherein this society is only just starting to see the need for copyright and patents.)
Let’s start with the world: a queen – who seems to be the latest in a line of queens – rules over four cities. Each city is known for a different attribute; people from this city are more compassionate, from this city colder and more closed-off, etc. They are linked by the skyways, magical rivers in the sky along which special ships can sail (more or less). In fact, this society has a lot of water around, because they worship a water goddess who requires ritual handwashing when entering and leaving most buildings or private residences. There used to be mages, but what exactly the mages were or did is unclear; at some point, they all went mad or bad or something and were locked out of society by a magical barrier. This period of history was overseen by someone called, I kid you not, the Sleepy Queen.
This epithet is never explained.
Enter the Incarnites; a fringe religion that instead worships a fire god. Their very existence makes most people uneasy at best, not least because Incarnites cover their entire bodies with orange robes, meaning you can never see an Incarnite, or tell them apart. Incarnites aren’t quite persecuted, but they’re definitely oppressed and discriminated against in every way, every chance non-Incarnites get.
This discrimination is one of the biggest themes/focuses of the book, but I still don’t know what Incarnites actually believe, except that they can’t be romantically or sexually involved with non-Incarnites. I have no idea what the central tenets of their faith are, and I really don’t know how they practice, either, aside from wearing the robes. Vespers is involved, but what that term means in this setting is not explained; does that mean sessions of group prayer? No clue.
So worldbuilding wise, this didn’t please me.
How about characters? Talio…did not appeal to me in the beginning, and I liked him less and less as the book went on. I got so tired of him obsessing over the looks of every vaguely pretty man he saw, and I found it unbelievable how he only started asking questions about the system he lived in NOW, not ten years ago when he was ruined because he…lost a book. Specifically, his copy of the laws and punishments of the legal system he worked in. (This is also never really explained: even Talio questions WHY losing the book was such a big deal, eventually, and we never get an answer. Why does it matter? Okay, there’s a Big Secret in the books, kiiiiind of. But nobody knows that, so why does everyone shun him for risking its exposure? Insert shrug here.) He’s not a terrible person, and he even undergoes some growth, but absolutely nothing about him held my interest. That, combined with my not liking him as a person – he can’t wrap his head around nonbinary people, and he tricks Pazli into sleeping with him – didn’t make for a great reading experience.
‘The man of his dreams’, aka Pazli, was interesting but annoying. He was so prickly, and while yes, sometimes Talio really was being insulting without realising it…most of the time Pazli was snapping at genuine good-faith efforts to connect. We get it, you hate everyone who’s not an Incarnite! Enough already! Like Talio, he learns and evolves some over the course of the book, and honestly, it probably would have been a more interesting book if it had been written from HIS perspective – what with the tug-of-war he was going through between his religion and his desire for Talio, and his trying to make a space for himself within the legal system – the first Incarnite to ever do so.
The Big Conspiracy was a letdown, particularly in how it was handled handled – (view spoiler)[I would have been happier if the ‘experiment’ didn’t have a clear ‘winner’ and don’t really love what Cohen was implying re harsher punishments to broken laws being the answer (hide spoiler)] – it was all so obvious, and then THE MOST DRAMATIC climax ever, and I just could not.
Writing like this certainly didn’t help;
As he pulled out, it was as if he were taking Talio’s guts with him.
…If, after anal sex, it feels like your guts are being ripped out, that’s – not a good thing??? That sounds agonising, but in context it’s not meant to be, so – what???
Talio felt the end of the judicial season approaching like the spring thaw; they were running out of time.
The end of the judicial season is something Talio is dreading, but the spring thaw is generally considered something to look forward to, so what am I supposed to take away from this?
And please do not even get me STARTED on how all the magistrates and so on ‘rap their fingers’ on their tables and desks – not their knuckles, not gavels, their FINGERS. Which I can only assume means they’re…tapping their fingertips on the table??? With feeling??? But even so, using your fingers instead of your knuckles is going to make almost no sound, certainly not enough to quiet an excited courtroom. This was not a one-off; that phrase, rap/rapped/rapping their fingers, was used CONSTANTLY. It made no sense, I don’t know what Cohen was thinking, and I can’t believe none of the beta-readers brought it up. ???
All in all, this was a chore to read. Potentially interesting for anyone who likes stories about oppressed minorities in fantasy settings, I guess? But a fantastical legal thriller this is not, and I wasn’t impressed with what it is....more
*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the c*I received this book for free from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.*
House of Frank bills itself as a cosy queer fantasy featuring found family, which – yes please! And if you made a list of all this book promises, it sounds like a truly wonderful list: a ‘knit-cardiganed mythical beast named Frank’, a piece of a fallen star, bickering cherubs, a magical arboretum – wonderful! Delightful! Surely this is going to become my new favourite thing!
Reader, it did not become my new favourite thing.
I am always immediately disappointed when I open a book I was anticipating and find that it’s written in first-person. Sometimes first-person is excellent, and the exact right way to tell a particular story, but as a rule of thumb, I don’t love it. So yeah, small disappointed ‘oh’ when I read the opening page. But some of my faves are first-person! First-person can be great!
Except that it very quickly became obvious that this was not one of those times where first-person is Excellent And Also Correct. In fact, maybe it wasn’t first-person at all – maybe it was second-person? Because Saika, our main character and narrator, talks to ‘you’, aka her dead sister Fiona – so is this first- or second-person? It was muddled and unclear and, again, second-person is freaking epic when it works – just look at Harrow the Ninth – but this didn’t work. This couldn’t decide or settle on what it wanted to be, even.
And even if it had been able to pick one and be solidly first- or second-person, the actual writing is horrendous. The prose is awkward, clunky, and Synclaire evidently one of those writers who disdains the word ‘said’, since a garbage can’s worth of eye-rolling dialogue tags are squeezed into the stupidest of places. I couldn’t believe how bad the actual dialogue was – you know when something in you cringes because real people just don’t talk like that? That. All of that. Robotic, unnatural, the speech patterns just perfectly bizarre.
Info-dumps galore, and the various ‘whimsical’ characters who are to make up Saika’s found family are upended over the reader until you’re buried in them; the introductions come too fast, and what’s meant to be cute and/or funny falls flat on its face instead. Whimsy is a hard thing to pull off, and House of Frank doesn’t manage it; superficially, most of the cast seem like they’ve been pulled from a nursery school’s picture books, but there’s nothing appealing or endearing about any of them – not that any of them are granted much in the way of personality. One or two personality traits and a distinctive ‘look’, as if they were designed for a bad cartoon where their being visually distinctive matters much more than them being people. And as other early reviews have noted, the ‘found family’ element is a hard Fail: these characters aren’t loving and supportive of each other, they’re casually toxic and awful. None of them have ever tried to find the ‘mute ghost’ a way to communicate? Not even by giving them a notebook and pencil or something? (Other reviewers have suggested gloves and sign language, which I think would have been excellent – alas that we didn’t get that.) No one notices or cares that Frank’s memory is clearly Not Okay? (That Frank is having memory problems is obvious in the first chapter.) I don’t know what it is, but these characters aren’t even decent friends to each other, never mind found family.
Also, hi, why did you stick cherubs in here? Don’t put angels or demons in your story unless you’re going to tell me if or how their existence implies the existence of the Christian Heaven and god and whatnot. Just randomly sticking them in because you think they’re cute is seriously annoying. If you wanted cute grumpy creatures, fauns are RIGHT THERE.
This is without even BEGINNING to dig into why Saika feels like turning her sister’s ashes into a tree is somehow Wrong, despite it being Fiona’s clear wish and request. That it takes Saika two years to start the process isn’t strange – I’m sure many people take far longer to ‘do something’ with a loved one’s ashes – but how is the arboretum process weird or wrong or whatever? What is it about the tree thing that strikes her as semi-creepy?
Also, Death. Who is most definitely not Terry Pratchett’s Death. Ffs.
(I don’t mean to imply that Pratchett’s Death is the only good example of Death, or the only way to write a personification of death. I mean that Synclaire’s Death is terrible, inexplicably sadistic – in a book that’s supposed to be about healing from grief! – while, much like the cherubs, raising enormous questions simply by EXISTING re the worldbuilding. Questions that inevitably go unanswered.)
But the worst part of this book is the writing. House of Frank is not at all what it claims to be – it’s not cosy, it’s not sweet, it’s just a lot of meh and normalised toxicity – but the actual arranging-words-into-sentences part is objectively the weakest of the book’s many weaknesses. On a technical level, House of Frank reads like a first draft, or maybe a nanonovel (which I guess is functionally the same thing), and I kind of can’t believe it’s being published as-is. It’s just bad.
House of Frank (along with three other books) is meant to be the start of Bindery Books’ catalogue; this is one of the books they’ve decided to burst out of the gate with. If this is how they choose to launch and establish themselves, I don’t hold much confidence that I’m going to like what I see from them in the future....more
Well THAT was a freaking masterpiece. So worth waiting for!
Rtc!
I received this book for free from the author via BookSirens in exchange for an honest Well THAT was a freaking masterpiece. So worth waiting for!
Rtc!
I received this book for free from the author via BookSirens in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
HIGHLIGHTS ~finally, flying cars! ~fire powers are more socially acceptable than empathy ~sending flowers is a rich asshole move ~watches that keep secrets as well as time ~never underestimate a paranoid journalist
There are some books that need to be self-published, because traditional publishing just wouldn’t know what to do with them; Nora Sakavic’s All For the Game series, pretty much everything by Andrea K Höst, The Creature Court trilogy by Tansy Rayner Roberts – I could go on. (And on, and on.) Books that are boundary-pushing, that can’t be neatly pigeon-holed, that are so wildly original or subversive or strange – or all three! – that they terrify publicity and marketing teams.
Earthflown is the newest addition to that illustrious company.
That being said, it’s not exactly what it claims to be on the tin. A Potable Study of Love and Collusion implies a lot more focus on economic inequality and a (the?) water crisis than we actually got. Although Earthflown is ostensibly about the behind-doors-backstabbing of the Arden family working to keep their exclusive control of Britain’s potable water, that part of the story is very much in the backseat. I found it very hard to keep track of the politics involved and wasn’t always clear on who was voting for what – I think there were several parliamentary votes about the water issue? but maybe also some other stuff? – or really, what the stakes were for the Ardens: they currently produce and control CM15, which makes water potable, but there’s a push to move the country to a new water-cleansing technology, and sometimes they seemed to be trying to block that, while at others hinting that they wanted the contract for building and installing the new tech? All of which is tied up with the polite feud they have with another branch of the family tree? But most of that was all in the background, which made it difficult to be emotionally invested in (or keep track of).
But that doesn’t matter in the slightest, because where Earthflown shines is in its beautifully flawed, grey-shaded characters and their interactions with each other, the way their lives intersected and overlapped. The story circles around Javier – an Arden – and Ethan, who, in a world where superpowers exist, is a priceless healer; around them are Rina, Javier’s firebending twin who is toxic at best and abusive at worst; Vegas, Ethan’s best friend and roommate; Oliver, Vegas’ on-again, off-again boyfriend and intrepid gumshoe journalist; and far off to the sidelines, poor Nick, a detective constantly dragging Oliver out of trouble by the scruff of his neck and currently under the impression he and Ethan are in a relationship. This misapprehension is entirely Ethan’s fault, and one of several ways in which we’re made very clear on the fact that Ethan is not exactly a perfect person. He can, in fact, be a bit of a dick. Though he cares very much about Vegas – their dynamic is almost sibling-like – he’s not great at remembering to care about other people as people.
So it’s kind of ironic, and definitely hilarious, that he falls very hard for an empath, aka Javier, who has spent his life keeping his superpower a secret. His immediate family know, and one or two family friends, but in a world with a lot of paranoia over and prejudice towards empaths, you can’t really blame him for keeping it on the down-low.
The surprise is that he’s also a sweetheart, which feels a bit like a miracle given a) his family as a whole and b) the awful, and awfully normalised, way his twin treats him. Seriously, it’s enough to make your skin crawl.
Corinna had been looking forward to this murder for weeks – she wasn’t there for the last one.
ENOUGH SAID.
Wren’s storytelling is a perfect balance of emotion and action, the prose smooth and incredibly moreish; before you can blink, you’re sucked in, and it’s an absolutely delicious ride. I couldn’t put Earthflown down for the two days it took me to devour it whole; I’m stunned and delighted by how well Wren keeps things moving while simultaneously doling out a whole heap of Feels and giggles. This isn’t a light-hearted book, but prepare yourself for giggle-snorts nonetheless, because there’s a bright thread of comedic moments woven through the cli fi-thriller-noir thing Wren has going on.
Loading...
