Another winner from C.J. Cooke! The author was already a must-read, and The Book of Witching has only solidified that for me.
Set on the Orkney Islands, the novel immediately wraps the reader up in its thick and eerie atmosphere. Back in 1594, a woman wrongfully accused of murder was burned for witchcraft on these very isles, but over four centuries later, a modern woman with seemingly no ties to that distant past soon discovers that this dark history is about to turn her world upside down. In 2024, Clem is pulled into a nightmare she never saw coming when she is informed that her nineteen-year-old daughter Erin is in the hospital after being found unconscious along the shore, covered in severe burns. The body of her boyfriend was also found nearby, having succumbed to his injuries, while a third member of their group remains missing. The three friends had gone to the Orkney Islands for a hiking trip, but it was clear something far more sinister had unfolded.
But the mystery only deepens when Erin wakes up from her coma, no longer answering to her own name, instead claiming to be someone called Nyx. Her behavior, along with her cold indifference to the fates of her dead boyfriend and missing best friend leads detectives to consider Erin as a person of interest, but Clem refuses to believe her daughter could have played any part of the tragedy. Together with Erin’s father, Clem travels to the site of the accident, determined to find out the truth. The answer may lie in the history of the Orkneys, where a sixteenth century healer named Alison Balfour became implicated in a murder plot. The persecution of Alison led to her torture and eventual execution during a contentious period of political turmoil, which provided the backdrop for the North Berwick witch trials. In alternating chapters which run parallel with Clem’s in the present, readers follow Alison’s story of injustice which gradually reveal the connection between the two women.
The Book of Witching was my fourth book by C.J. Cooke, and I enjoyed it almost as much as I did her previous novel, A Haunting in the Arctic—which remains my favorite. Perhaps it’s not surprising, since the two share many similarities, including a familiar pattern of blending horror and fantasy, mystery and history, in addition to connecting past-present timelines, and, of course, the paranormal factor. However, this one did feature a very different and distinct angle, exploring witchcraft, folklore, and deep-rooted historical tensions.
Once again, the momentum is driven by the question: How are all these things related? The genius (and admittedly the frustration) of this novel is that it reads like two books in one—simultaneously trying to tell Clem’s story while juggling Alison’s as well. This time, the author keeps the answers under wraps for much longer than expected, waiting until near the end to reveal the connections. This may not be for everyone and depends on how much patience the reader has for books with layers that unfold slowly, but Cooke is such a good storyteller that even with the lack of clarity to all these secrets, I couldn’t stop reading because of the suspense.
It is also worth mentioning that Erin is herself a mother to a toddler, which only further convinces Clem that her daughter is innocent since she has so much to live for. Erin’s injuries also bring her estranged father and Clem’s ex back into their lives, and in many ways he’s even more ferociously protective of his daughter. Similarly, Alison’s story is one about resilience as she endures unspeakable pain and torture to keep her children safe. There’s this powerful overall emphasis on family, with the bond between parent and child serving as a central theme for both timelines, and both women feel more relatable and sympathetic because of it.
But the book’s strengths may be weaknesses for some. The constant jumping around between timelines, the way the author keeps the links between them close to the vest—it could be rough on the pacing. Still, I’ve always been a fan of a slow-burn narrative, especially when the payoff is worth it.
And The Book of Witching is definitely worth it. With its Gothic ambience and haunting atmosphere, this novel should appeal to readers drawn to complex family dynamics and the mysterious threads that bind the past to the present. While it doesn’t quite cross the threshold into horror territory, it still gave me chills. Recommended for fans of psychological and historical suspense....more
Sometimes, the best stories are the ones that catch you off guard. A Sweet Sting of Salt by Rose Sutherland wasn’t initially on my radar, but as soon as I found out about its premise, I knew I had to read it. Inspired by the classic legend of the Selkie Wife, this novel is a historical fiction retelling that combines a captivating blend of Celtic folklore, sapphic romance, and just a tiny dab of the fantastical.
The story opens in a small, Nova Scotian town in the early 1800s. It is a community of mostly farmers and fishermen, and our protagonist Jean is the only midwife for miles around. One stormy night, while getting ready for bed in her lonely seaside cottage, she hears a cry from outside and is shocked to see a pregnant young woman—clearly in labor—stumbling along the shore. After hustling the drenched woman indoors, Jean realizes she is speaking in a foreign tongue, hampering their ability to communicate. Despite this, Jean manages to get the woman to trust her, helping deliver her baby safely.
Gradually, Jean begins to piece together the mystery of the strange woman’s appearance. She finds out her name is Muirin, and that she must be the new wife of Tobias, who lives on the land next to Jean’s. Indeed, when Jean heads out the next morning to seek out her neighbor, she finds Tobias frantically searching for Muirin. When the couple are reunited, Tobias seemed relieved and overjoyed at the birth of his son, but Jean notices that Muirin’s behavior becomes guarded and closed off in the presence of her supposedly loving husband. Driven by a fierce protectiveness, Jean sets out to uncover Muirin’s secret past in order to keep her new friend and her baby safe.
At its core, A Sweet Sting of Salt is a heartwarming tale of unexpected love and connection. Jean is the main pillar of this novel, a fantastic protagonist on whom everything significant and amazing about this story is built. Harboring a secret herself, Jean is an ostracized member of her community because of a forbidden relationship she shared with a childhood friend which ended in disaster and heartbreak. Becoming a respected midwife was the second chance she cannot afford to lose, yet she would readily put aside her own needs for those whom she has given her loyalty and devotion.
The plot itself is evenly paced, and while the relationship between Jean and Muirin takes center stage, it is nevertheless handled subtly in a way that never overshadows the other elements in the book. The slow-burn romance is beautifully written with genuine emotional depth, allowing the characters’ bond to develop organically, making it all the more believable.
Finally, the wild and windswept shores of Nova Scotia lend a perfect vibe and Gothic atmosphere to the setting of this novel. In the author’s afterword, Sutherland writes about the very real places that inspired her, and this deep connection to her home can be experienced in the vivid descriptions of the that bring Jean and Muirin’s tale to life.
All told, A Sweet Sting of Salt is a delightful surprise and an impressive debut by Rose Sutherland. For fans of fiction inspired by classic folklore or readers looking for a unique historical novel with a touch of magic, look no further....more
Ironically, few things excite me more than Shakespearean inspired fantasy, even if years of boring high school lit classes have killed pretty much any enthusiasm I have for the works of the great Bard. These days I’m unlikely to pick up Shakespeare for pleasure, but pitch me a reimagining of Macbeth as told from the perspective of one of literature’s most famous villainesses and throw in dragons, curses, and sorcery for good measure, and I’m like, where do I sign up?
Enter Ava Reid’s Lady Macbeth, and now that I’ve read it, I certainly have opinions, both complimentary and critical. To provide some context though, I think it’s important to acknowledge the elements that stand out, even those aspects which are likely to frustrate readers. The book is a dark and rather loose retelling of Shakespeare’s classic play with a quasi-historical fiction bent, centering around seventeen-year-old Roscille who has been thrust into a world dominated by men and violence upon her marriage to the fearsome Scottish warrior Macbeth. But Roscille, alone and frightened as she is, has some secrets of her own. Said to possess witch powers, she makes furtive attempts at manipulation and charming others with her beauty in order to survive, but her youth and inexperience often lead her floundering in the dangerous power dynamics of her new life.
Brutal as he is, however, her husband appears to trust her, even if it does stem from his regard of her as his own property. He reveals to her his hidden dealings with the world of the occult and his beliefs in magic and prophecy, perhaps giving insight into his uncanny bravado and charisma. Despite her efforts to maintain control over her life, Roscille finds herself surrounded by adversaries in Macbeth’s court, growing increasingly isolated. But just when she hits rock bottom and feels the most desperate, an unexpected alliance and romance may emerge from the least likely of places.
Look around and you might see a lot of reluctance to call Lady Macbeth a retelling, and for good reason. Aside from the plot’s lack of faithfulness to the source material, you’re also looking at significant changes made to the key characters. But this, to me, was a positive. One of the book’s best features is the author’s ability to bring Roscille to life, even if she is a far cry from the strong, ambitious, and morally sketchy woman whom she was based on. Reid’s Lady Macbeth is her own creation, and she has written a protagonist whose trauma and subsequent resilience to those challenges have shaped her personality and motivations, which feel authentic and earned. The story also introduces new elements like magic and mythical creatures that have little to do with the original play, but as this is a fantasy novel, I’m quite happy for these changes placing it solidly into this category.
Still, there were other deviations that were less welcome. For one, we have the huge shift in focus from the main theme of the original Macbeth, which I felt was key to the play and should have been kept somewhat intact or at least present. Instead, opportunities to explore the darker side of human nature—unchecked ambition, the corrupting force of power, soul-rending guilt, etc.—were largely ignored in Lady Macbeth, and that was a little disappointing. Then there was the way the novel handled the relationship between Roscille and Macbeth. In this story, the latter holds all the power, and Reid doesn’t shy away from the harsher realities of their marriage. In her portrayal, though, Roscille is robbed of much of her agency, and the dynamics that exist between the couple in Shakespeare’s Macbeth are either diluted or flipped.
In terms of its technical aspects, the writing was rich and evocative, which enhanced the gothic vibes of the atmosphere. But unstable pacing made the first half a slow read, and in many ways, the fantasy elements were instrumental in helping things pick back up, even if they took the original plot off its rails. Such is nature of retellings or reimaginings—you have to take both the strengths and flaws that come with the author’s creative choices.
In the case of Lady Macbeth, those choices offered a fresh perspective. However, as much as I enjoyed some of Reid’s new interpretations, not all of them resonated with me the same way. In the end, I think readers will largely fall into one of two camps—those who appreciate the bolder changes, or those who would have preferred to see more of the familiar and important themes in Shakespeare’s play preserved....more
Few books have left me as disturbed and creeped out as A Haunting in the Arctic by C.J. Cooke. This novel delves into the depths of psychological terror and trauma, weaving a narrative that is both addictive and profoundly unsettling.
The story is told in two timelines, first opening in Dundee, Scotland in 1901 with Nicky, a young woman whose father owns the whaling ship Ormen. Times have been hard for her–following a devastating loss, her husband has gone off to war, leaving her alone. After receiving some unnerving news about her father’s business, Nicky heads to the park and is suddenly attacked and abducted. When she wakes, she finds herself inexplicably aboard the Ormen, beginning its months-long voyage to Icelandic waters. As the ship carries her further away from home, Nicky realizes with horror what the crew intends for her.
Meanwhile, the second timeline unfolds in the present day. The wreck of a whaling ship, determined to be the Ormen, has washed ashore in the arctic. A young explorer named Dominique is determined to make her way to the site to document the wreck and find out what happened to it in its last days before it is scheduled to be destroyed. Initially traveling alone, her plans hit a snag when she encounters a trio of adventurers heading to Iceland to do exactly the same thing. Ultimately deciding to team up, the group makes it to the shipwreck only to find themselves stalked by an eerie presence on the ice while trapped in a storm.
Before I proceed with my review, it must first be noted that A Haunting in the Arctic is not for the faint of heart. It is one of the darkest books I’ve read in a while, unapologetic in its portrayal of human suffering. There are sensitive and distressing themes aplenty, most of them dealing with sexual assault and violence. Although these are woven into the very bones of the novel, integral to its premise and progression, the detailed depiction of such scenes may prove distressing to some. Therefore, reader discretion is strongly advised.
That said, this is my third book by C.J. Cooke, and it might be my favorite yet. The author’s strength has always been her remarkable talent for crafting immersive atmospheres, which she displayed even in her earlier novels, The Nesting and The Lighthouse Witches. In A Haunting in the Arctic, Cooke’s prose again brings the setting to life, evoking a palpable sense of isolation and dread.
For all its bleakness though, the novel also contains moments of deep and powerful emotion, exploring themes of loss and resilience. Nicky and Dominique emerge as intricately written characters, both living through their own private hells, yet the subtle connections between them, spanning across time, won’t be fully revealed until much later at the end. The mystery kept the tensions high and added an additional layer of intrigue, keeping me hooked as answers were gradually revealed.
Again, A Haunting in the Arctic was not an easy book to read, nor would it be suitable for all readers. However, I do believe horror fans brave enough to venture into its icy depths will find a haunting narrative that offers gut-wrenching and chilling resonance....more
I probably should preface this review with a caveat: Immortal Pleasures by V. Castro is not going to be for everyone. It caters to a specific kind of reader, perhaps one who is a little more into the spicier side of things than I am. Apparently, the “seductive dark fantasy” blurb in the publisher description just means sex, sex, and more sex with barely a plotline to be glimpsed. But I’ll try to be fair.
First, the story. Centuries ago, when Spanish conquistador Hernan Cortez began his colonization of the Americas, he was helped by a Nahua woman who served as his translator. Known as La Malinche, she became branded as a traitor for her part in the eventual conquest and genocide of her own people. This book, however, offers an intriguing twist on history, reimagining her as an immortal vampire who now seeks vengeance on her old enemy. Reborn as Malinalli, she has taken on a personal mission to travel the world and reclaim stolen artifacts to their rightful countries and cultures.
Emotionally though, Malinalli feels empty. Her long years of wandering the globe by herself has made her long for love and connection, a yearning which leads her to Dublin, Ireland where she meets a human named Colin, a horror writer who immediately makes her his muse. The two begin a whirlwind romance, jet-setting off together on Malinalli’s hunt for a pair of Aztec skulls which have deep ties to her own traumatic past. But unexpectedly, fate throws another suitor her way, a fellow vampire who is much older and whose own quest may align with our protagonist’s.
To begin with the positives, I simply adore this cover. Very Queen of the Damned. The premise is also fascinating; I was not very familiar with the historical figure La Malinche, but after reading this book I went down a rabbit hole of looking up more information about her and I always like gaining new knowledge.
Unfortunately, the list of negatives is a bit longer. As alluded to earlier, the vibe is certainly striving to be Anne Rice-y but the writing is subpar with info dumps galore and disjointed prose with awkward, clunky descriptions occasionally resulting in unintentional hilarity especially during the sexually explicit sequences. Malinalli herself is completely unconvincing as a centuries-old vampire who supposedly travels around the world, with the emotional intelligence of someone with far less experience and maturity.
Finally, we arrive at the stuff where your mileage may vary. Obviously, a sexually explicit warning is a given. If you’re thirsting for a racy vampire romance and don’t mind sacrificing plot complexity and character depth for some hot and steamy content, this book could work for you. But those looking for a well-developed story will be left disappointed and feeling hollowed out.
Ultimately, this is a novel with a captivating concept, but subtlety and nuance are not its strongest points, and even the historical element was a bit weak. Still, managing expectations will be the key to your enjoyment. Bottom line, Immortal Pleasures occupies a specific niche of dark fantasy romance which won’t be everyone’s cup of tea but will delight its target audience....more
I love Constance Sayers, as she is wonderfully consistent. When it comes to haunting and evocative historicals, no one else can deliver stories quite like hers. The Star and the Strange Moon is no exception. Much like her previous books A Witch in Time and The Ladies of the Secret Circus, it is a captivating tale of sorrow and ambition, mystery and allure.
It also features a dual timeline structure. In the opening pages, readers meet Christopher Kent whose childhood with a troubled mother meant an unstable and nomadic existence living out of cheap motel rooms. Eventually, she had a breakdown which led to their separation, and Christopher came under the care of his aunt. While he never lived with his mother again, he would never forget what triggered her mental collapse—a photo of Gemma Turner, a 1960s starlet who famously vanished without a trace while on the set of a radical vampire-themed movie being filmed in France.
It is a memory that will shape our protagonist’s destiny. Fast forward to 2015, an adult Christopher has become obsessed with the actress and her potential link to his mother. His quest for the truth leads him to try and hunt down a copy of L’Etrange Lune, the notorious film Gemma had been working on when she disappeared. Though it was completed, it was never released, thought to be lost to time. However, Christopher’s investigation leads him to discover a clandestine group that receives a private screening of the movie every ten years. It is also rumored that each time it is shown, the footage is altered, sometimes even featuring new scenes with Gemma Turner, long presumed dead.
Then, in a 1968 timeline, we follow Gemma herself as she makes a final bid for stardom, traveling to France to audition for a part she so desperately needs. When she is offered the lead role of L’Etrange Lune, she can’t believe her luck. But the production is plagued with problems from the start, including behind-the-scenes animosities and a director who doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing. Then one day, while shooting a scene in an alleyway, Gemma unexpectedly finds herself transported to a different time—one mirroring the world of L’Etrange Lune, where its monsters also come to life.
Sayers skillfully weaves a tale filled with secrets spanning decades and generations, incorporating timeless themes in both the past and present narratives. While not strictly horror, the novel does utilize some of the genre’s elements to enhance the mysterious atmosphere which has become a hallmark of the author’s work. Case in point, the concept of an actress being transported into the very world depicted in her film can be a ridiculous one on the surface. Written in another tone or style, the story could have gone in a very different direction, yet Sayers manages to nail the mood down perfectly.
That said, if forced to choose, I probably prefer her previous two books to this one. Despite its brilliance, The Star and the Strange Moon runs up against several hurdles, notably towards the end. The phenomenal potential in the novel’s first half begins to fizzle as we move into the sections that provide the explanations and big reveals. In other words, as the mystique faded, so too did the momentum. The remainder wasn’t quite enough to keep up the strong pacing through to the final chapters, and the late addition of a romantic element also felt unconvincing and shoehorned in.
Still, a glitchy conclusion notwithstanding, The Star and the Strange Moon remains a compelling read, showcasing Constance Sayers’ talents for character development and storytelling. It’s perfect for readers seeking a delightful blend of historical fiction with just a touch of the unexplained....more
I recall being very excited when I first learned about Red Rabbit. There are not enough horror westerns these days, and I was really craving a good one. Problem is though, the genre can also come in many flavors, and I think I just had the wrong expectations with this one.
Set in post-Civil War Kansas, the story begins when the small town of Riddle puts out a $1,000 bounty on a local witch named Sadie Grace—dead or alive. This gets the attention of every hired gun in the west, including Texas cowboys and war veterans Ned Hemingway and Moses Burke, a black surgeon who served with the Union. As the two of them head north on the trail of their bounty, they come across self-professed witch master Old Tom traveling with a silent girl named Rabbit, whom he mysteriously keeps referring to as a boy.
Their group grows once more after a stop at the homestead of newly widowed Rose, who decides to come along on the journey. Seven being a good, almost magical, number, we also join up with Benito Cortez, a Mexican outlaw on the run, as well as Joe Mullins, whose presence not only rounds out the crew but also adds a whole different kind of adventure to their quest.
One thing to know about Red Rabbit is that it has a strong paranormal bent and definitely falls more on the weird western side of things. While that alone isn’t a dealbreaker, the eccentric nature and style of the book does demand a few sacrifices from other areas of the story, namely plot cohesion and character development. There’s somewhat of a continuous narrative here, but just barely. The focus jumps around a lot, giving the book an almost episodic string-of-side-quests feel. Along with the paranormal aspects that get injected here and there, I found myself growing increasingly frustrated with the story’s stuttering pace.
There are also quite a few characters to keep track of. Unfortunately, on account of the scattered focus, I failed to connect with any of them on any meaningful level. There was no time to really get to know any of them, and if there was any backstory given it felt obligatory and prescribed. All the emotional moments came across distant and dulled. The book description for Red Rabbit says, “A folk horror epic about a ragtag posse,” which immediately sets the weight of expectation for the novel against all the “epic ragtag posse” stories that have ever been written. There have been many of those which juggle multiple perspectives with more memorable characters, and this one did not quite manage it.
The lack of character depth was probably my biggest gripe, especially for a story that relied so heavily on the cast. But other than that, Red Rabbit was actually a decent read, unique in its execution and surprisingly entertaining. While I may have wished for more developed character motivations and backstories, the supernatural elements and a busy plot kept me reading....more
City of Dreams by Don Winslow is the second book of the Danny Ryan trilogy set to the backdrop of the Irish/Italian Mob Wars of the 1980s. Because this is a direct sequel to City on Fire, references and possible spoilers are possible in this review if you are not caught up with book one. The story doesn’t miss a beat, picking things up right where we left off with recently widowed drug dealer Danny Ryan on the run from his old life in Rhode Island, heading west towards California with his young son Ian. Many people are after him, from the Moretti crime family who wants him dead for stealing millions of dollars’ worth of their heroin to the FBI who believe Danny had something to do with the death of one of their own and want to see him hang. Left with no choice, Danny must swallow his pride and seek refuge in Las Vegas with his estranged mother Madeleine, whom he still resents for having abandoned him as a boy. But extremely rich and well connected, Madeleine has the resources to protect her son and grandson, and she’s also ready to make amends.
However, Danny was not made for a soft life of lounging by the poolside. When a couple of his friends start to make trouble in Hollywood, Danny goes to set them straight, only to end up investing in a movie based on his past life and meeting the lead actress, with whom he forms an immediate connection. Danny never expected to fall in love again, but fate has other plans. Suddenly vaulted into the limelight, he starts attracting the kind of attention he left New England to escape in the first place.
As a sequel, I thought City of Dreams was serviceable but a far cry from the original. After all, City on Fire had been an aptly named novel, a fiery opening salvo that introduced readers to the brutal, cutthroat ways of the Italian and Irish gangs when a simple rivalry for the attentions of a beautiful woman ends up leading to an all-out bloody war—a premise worthy of its inspiration, the story of Helen of Troy.
City of Dreams didn’t have quite that much going for it. The plot also didn’t feel like it had a clear direction, parking Danny in his mother’s mansion while his friends run around Los Angeles acting like a couple of bozos trying to extort favors and cash from Hollywood bigshots like they were still back on their home turf. The entire premise was silly and farcical, like a parody of a bad mob comedy. I started to find myself missing the unrestrained violence, bloodshed, and the rising body count of the first book.
Even the twists felt too predictable and forced. Danny’s not a stupid guy as he’s proven in the first book, but in this one he seems to have lost his senses. He’s supposed to be laying low, but instead does everything he can to land himself in the tabloids, backing a high-profile movie and dating a famous actress. It’s not like there are a lot of dangerous people trying to kill him or anything! Without spoiling anything, the ending was also rushed complete with a manufactured tragedy, which made it hard to become truly immersed.
On the more positive side though, this was an entertaining sequel, an opportunity to have some fun, even if it does suffer a little from middle book syndrome. The “mobsters head to Hollywood” angle was unexpectedly refreshing, and overall City of Dreams serves its main purpose as a bridge book setting up for the grand finale. I’m looking forward to it. ...more
Tananarive Due’s The Reformatory is a chilling, thought-provoking novel that was at times an uncomfortable read, not just because it was a ghostly tale of horror but also because of the way it portrays the brutal realities of 1950’s Jim Crow.
In this story, we follow the harrowing journey of Robbie Stephens, Jr., a twelve-year-old black boy from Florida who receives a six-month sentence at the Gracetown School for Boys, a reformatory. His crime? Defending his older sister, Gloria, from the unwanted advances of Lyle McCormick, son of the town’s most influential landowner. Never mind that the younger, smaller Robbie was hardly in a position to seriously harm Lyle, his act of kicking a white boy was an offense that could not be overlooked by either Red McCormick or the town’s judge.
But Gloria, older and wiser, knows there is more to the situation. Her and Robbie’s father, Robert Stephens Sr., had run away to Chicago after being falsely accused of raping a white woman when it became clear there was no chance at a fair trial. By locking up his son, the authorities are sending a message to Robert Sr. while trying to destroy his family. Realizing this, Gloria tirelessly mobilizes every contact and resource she has to fight for her little brother’s freedom before the horrors of the reformatory can swallow him up.
Meanwhile, Robbie begins his nightmarish ordeal at the Gracetown School and discovers, quite traumatically, that he also possesses a unique gift—the ability to see ghosts. Guided by the new friendships he makes with the other ill-fated boys at the institution, he learns about the harsh rules and the draconian ways of Warden Haddock, as well as the tragic, violent history of the school. Many deaths have occurred here over the years, including twenty-five boys who perished three decades ago in a great fire. Now Robbie is seeing their spirits, or haints, who seem determined to communicate with him, to tell him how to bring them peace.
In the author’s note at the end of the novel, Tananarive Due talks about how The Reformatory was based on Florida’s Dozier School for Boys, a reform school that has been the inspiration for many a horror story because of the very real accounts of terrible abuse, violence, and death that occurred there. These have left an indelible mark, not only on the pages of history, but on the pages of this work of fiction as well. While Due admits to taking plenty of artistic liberties, the disturbing authenticity that lingers from knowing such an awful place actually existed certainly makes this novel feel even more unsettling.
The narrative is told through alternating between Robbie and Gloria’s points of view, depicting their parallel struggles. Admittedly, I was a little less enthusiastic about Gloria’s chapters at first, because her role was so heavily involved in the legal aspects of trying to rescue her brother from the reformatory, diverting the story away from the horror elements. But gradually, as Gloria’s efforts take her into increasingly riskier territory, she encounters pushback and adversaries who pose a significant threat of their own.
But on the whole, The Reformatory is primarily focused on Robbie’s experiences within Gracetown, and his chapters are both riveting and terrifying. Life is grim, whether you are black or white, but because of Robbie’s special ability, he has drawn the attention of Warden Haddock, one of the nastiest villains you’ll ever meet. Robbie is put in a very difficult position, fighting to survive against the cruelty of Haddock’s men as well as the frightening demands of the restless haints.
Throughout the book, Due also weaves a chilling depiction of the racism during the Jim Crow era. These themes, infused with the supernatural elements of a haunted reform school, make it much more than just a brilliant horror novel, as it is also a poignant look into the enduring traumas of the past. If you’re looking for a mix of horror and history that will linger with you, I highly recommend The Reformatory....more
A Viking tale of a different sort, The Weaver and the Witch Queen by Genevieve Gornichec is a lovely, lyrical adventure about the bonds of sisterhood and female friendships. Last year, I had the chance to read the author’s debut, The Witch’s Heart, in which she reimagined the story of the jötunn Angrboda by giving readers a personal, intimate look at the life of the mythological giantess who was also a driven woman and a fiercely protective mother. True to form, this time Gornichec has written a magical take on another Old Norse figure, the quasi-historical character known from the Icelandic Sagas as Gunnhildr Gormsdóttir, Mother of Kings.
The story takes what little is known about Gunnhild, as she is called here, painting a picture of her childhood and eventual rise to become a witch and the wife to Prince Eirik, future ruler of Norway. As a young girl, she had two very close friends, sisters Oddny and Signy. Although their family was far less wealthy than her noble one, Gunnhild had always envied the siblings. Their farming life may be a hard one, but the girls were loved by their parents and vice versa. Gunnhild, on the other hand, despised her cold-hearted mother and her father was never around. Spending time with Oddny and Signy was the only joy she had to look forward to, and the three girls ultimately made a blood pact to always be there for one another, no matter what.
Later, finally at her wits’ end with her mother’s cruelty, Gunnhild ends up running away to forge her own destiny and to learn the ways of witchcraft. But then, the unthinkable happens. Back at home on their farm, a Viking raid separates Oddny from Signy, who ends up being kidnapped by their attackers. Devastated by the loss of her family and determined to save her sister, Oddny seeks help from Gunnhild, who has become a talented witch in her own right. Together, the two women are reunited to do everything in their power to bring back the missing member of their blood-sworn trio.
Given the minimal information available about the real Gunnhild, The Weaver and the Witch Queen was an impressive work of historical fantasy in which Gornichec takes limited recorded details and weaves them into a narrative of her own creation. A full-bodied novel which features well-developed characters and a vibrant historical setting, the story explores themes of retribution and sacrifice as well as love and betrayal. While it certainly contains some darker elements, like the brutality of raids or the constant threat of death by violence, on the whole this is very different book from your average Viking tale, dealing more with personal journeys of growth, self-discovery, and connection to others.
Hence, like most works of this kind, the plot is never as simple as it seems. As our characters pursue their quest, they run into Eirik and his traveling party, and readers aware of the significance of their meeting know how in this moment Gunnhild and the future king’s fates will be forever entwined. While the women may be the focus of this novel, the men in their lives play an important role too. The Weaver and the Witch King features romance and plenty of political intrigue, a lot of manipulations and powerplays set in motion while emotions flow deeply and all over the place.
My only criticism would have to be the pacing, which is slow to start but also uneven in places. As a result, I had a hard time getting into the story initially because the intro ran long and the setup was a bit dry. However, as more developments unfolded and the character relationships fell into place, I began to enjoy myself a lot more watching their interpersonal dynamics take center stage. Gunnhild and Eirik’s paring made for some entertaining interactions, sparks of passion and of fury flying as these two strong personalities clashed. But while Oddny’s journey was somewhat less tumultuous, it was also quite fascinating as she finds herself drawn to someone whom she has every reason to hate.
If you enjoy historical fantasy featuring compelling storylines and empowered women, The Weaver and the Witch Queen is definitely one to watch. Fans of Norse mythology and magic will especially be enthralled, and I will be keeping an eye our for Genevieve Gornichec’s future projects....more
Born from a fascination with the Mongol invasions and conquests that took place during the 13th and 14th centuries, The Judas Blossom vividly reimaginations the birth of history’s largest contiguous empire. Author Stephen Aryan writes in his foreword that while most of the major events in this fantasy novel are historically accurate, he has made some tweaks and liberties to their timing on top of some additional changes to the characters, and that ultimately what he wanted to do was craft a dramatic story. Well, in that goal, I can confidently say he succeeded.
The book follows mainly four characters: Hulagu Khan, grandson of the great Genghis, is now the rule of the Ilkhanate; his youngest son, Temujin, has one last chance to prove his worth before he is shipped out to fight on the front lines; known as the Blue Princess, Kokochin is the last of her tribe and has arrived in a foreign land to join Hulagu’s harem as one of his many wives; and Kaivon is a desperate young Persian rebel who will stop at nothing to get his revenge on the Mongols for the massacre of his people.
As his father faces the challenge of holding together a vast empire, Temujin is trying his best to avoid following in his footsteps as he finds he has no taste for war. But when his latest stint as a tax collector ends in disaster, he is forced onto the warrior’s path to unlock his inner potential. Meanwhile, Kaivon is left to exact vengeance on his own after his group of rebels are routed and his brother abandons him, heading into the heart of enemy territory to attempt a bolder strategy. When an opportunity to apprentice under the fearsome Hulagu Khan himself arises, Kaivon must tread carefully in order not to reveal his plans to bring the empire down from within. Around this time, Kokochin also discovers that, despite being a khan’s wife, she holds practically no status or power. Seeking new meaning to her life, she finds a purpose in training in the fighting arts and espionage.
I’ve always had a love for historical fantasy, and The Judas Blossom provides a breath of fresh air from the more usual offerings of the genre by whisking us off to the time of the Mongol Empire. Readers get to experience a sense of its sweeping magnitude in this epic tale told through the eyes of compelling characters that cover many aspects of life during this period, and my favorite was probably Kokochin, as so little is known about her in history. In this novel, however, Stephen Aryan has made her a fully realized character, complete with her own hopes and ambitions and a charming personality. Admittedly, none of the other characters interested me nearly as much, but perhaps they will have their chance to shine later in the sequels.
Of course, whenever you have tales about conquerors, you also get the tales of the conquered, along with the violence of bloody war which often accompanies these types of stories. Having read the author’s debut Battlemage, I already knew of his ability to write impressive battle sequences, and indeed the ones in The Judas Blossom were no less action-packed. Amidst the challenges of trying to expand and maintain an empire, the Khan and his family have made lots of enemies from within and without, meaning there’s plenty of political intrigue to keep me hooked with multiple threads involving assassins and secret plots to take down the empire. That said, with so many moving parts to keep track of, some of these plotlines can get confusing as times, resulting in several side characters and the story arcs that they’re involved in feeling slightly underdeveloped. Again, I am hoping that later books in the series will remedy that by exploring everything more in depth.
Overall, I have to say that, as the first volume to The Nightingale and the Falcon saga, The Judas Blossom was a fantastic read and my attention is certainly piqued. As with most series openers, there were some expected hurdles related to balancing character and story development, since there were so many elements to introduce. But now, the stage is most certainly set for greater, grander things as history begins to intertwine with the fantastical. Historical fantasy fans will be delighted by The Judas Blossom and the sweeping scope of its narrative that will transport them to a breathtaking world of danger, intrigue, and magic. Seamlessly weaving together intricate world-building, vibrant characters and resonant themes of courage, love, and sacrifice, this novel will leave you mesmerized. I look forward to the sequel!...more
The Devil’s Playground is the third novel I’ve read by Craig Russell, and my favorite of his work so far! In this historical horror-thriller, two parallel narratives unfold in tandem with one set in 1967 and the other in 1927. In the former timeline, we follow journalist and film buff Paul Conway on his quest to track down the last known existing copy of The Devil’s Playground, purported to be the most terrifying silent film ever made. His hunt leads him to Sudden Lake, a ghost town in the middle of the Mohave Desert where a luxury hotel used to stand. After the water in the lake dried up, so did tourism and the cashflow, leading its destitute owner to kill himself and his family in a horrific murder-suicide. Now all that’s left at the site is a shell of a thriving town that could have once rivaled Hollywood, and it is here where Paul hopes to learn the whereabouts of the legendary lost film.
The second timeline whisks us further back into the past, to the golden age of classic Hollywood cinema. Mary Rourke is what is known in the industry as a fixer, someone who works for a film studio cleaning up the messes of their biggest stars. Whenever a possible scandal arises, it’s up to Mary to show up first and do damage control, taking care of anything that needs sweeping under the rug. This latest situation she’s dealing with, however, is a right fiasco. Norma Carlton, one of the most famous actresses of her time and leading lady of the still in-production movie The Devil’s Playground, has been found dead of an apparent suicide in her mansion. Filming has already been plagued with issues, leading to whispers that the entire project might be cursed. After finding signs on Norma’s body that suggest she may have been murdered, Mary has to wonder if there may be some truth to these rumors, especially when even more misfortunes start to pile up on set.
As you can see, the mystery of the lost film is merely the tip of the iceberg. This book offers so much more and had a bit of everything I love, including a good old-fashioned murder mystery, a fascinating historical setting, just a light dab of the parnormal, and gothic vibes that are practically oozing off the page. In addition to the two main narratives following Paul and Mary, there is a third thread flashing back to around the turn of the 20th century Louisiana, where Voodoo and necromancy come into play as a woman and her daughter living in the bayou get caught up in a frenzied witch hunt.
Unike Hyde, the author’s previous novel which I thought was a real snoozefest, The Devil’s Playground strikes a good balance between atmosphere and action. I found myself swept up in the puzzle that was Norma Carlton’s death, and Mary Rourke was the perfect amateur detective to lead the investigation. Despite the book’s horror tag, the murder mystery was where I found the most enjoyment. There’s also something so apropos about the setting, where nothing is as it seems. Hollywood, where make-believe comes to life and anyone can become anything they wish to be, was even more duplicitous during the silent film era before the talkies changed the landscape of the movie industry. Pretty much everyone is keeping a secret or wearing a fabricated identity; the mystery practically writes itself as Mary dives headfirst into this roiling whirlpool of unreality and falsehoods.
The plot does feel very busy, but eventually all the pieces come together relatively neatly considering all the moving parts of this story which span decades and multiple locales. While some of the revelations were telegraphed early, they didn’t manage to spoil the bigger surprises, and I can always appreciate a good standalone horror.
I also had a pleasure of reviewing the audiobook which featured narrator Kirsten Potter, whose other performances I’ve enjoyed in the past include The Sun Down Motel and The Book of Cold Cases by Simone St. James. She’s definitely no stranger to reading paranormal horror and thrillers, keeping the characters engaging and the tensions high. If you are a fan of these genres, I highly recommend treating yourself to The Devil’s Playground....more
I have read a few Preston & Child novels in the past, but never any in the Aloysius Pendergast series. Needless to say, I’ve always been drawn to its mysteries which often feature elements of horror and the paranormal from what I’ve been told. So even though The Cabinet of Dr. Leng is the twenty-first book in this impressively long-running sequence, I was excited at the opportunity to read it when offered a review copy.
That said, I soon realized that what I’ve done is jump unknowingly into the middle of a mini-arc and that much of the events of the story was already in motion, having been set up in the previous book Bloodless. Fortunately though, the authors do such a good job catching you up that the entire experience felt practically seamless for a newcomer like me. The book introduces Aloysius Pendergast and his love interest Constance, who has made a bold move in trying to change her past. Amazingly, her quest has brought her to late 1800s New York City where she plans on tracking down Dr. Enoch Leng, the monster who had taken everything she loved and destroyed her life. But even after disguising herself and covering her tracks, her enemy is a formidable foe who won’t be long fooled.
Meanwhile, back in the present day, Pendergast is determined to give Constance all the advantage he can. Enlisting the help of his friend NYPD Lieutenant Commander Vincent D’Agosta, they try to find a way back to her. And in the FBI, Pendergast’s colleague Special Agent Armstrong Coldmoon is assigned to a bizarre case involving a murder and an attempted theft at a museum.
There are many threads unfolding here, and for the most part they remain separate, as expected for a larger story arc in progress. This simultaneously made things easier to follow but also was a source of confusion wondering how all the pieces are supposed to fit together. As I said, the authors are considerate in keeping the separate plotlines as straightforward and simply as they can, but there is another factor in play here: Time travel.
The Cabinet of Dr. Leng is a mixture of mystery, thriller, and science fiction. I knew this this wasn’t going to be your typical series, but I confess I was still taken by surprise when time traveling came into the picture. Now, time traveling stories and I have a tricky relationship. I’m usually all for them, but they almost always come with a caveat to ignore any plot holes or absurd explanations that might arise. I feel the book handles the logistics behind time travel and the concept of multiple universes well enough, but without spoiling anything, I also thought that in the process of laying everything out there were sections I felt were too drawn out or completely unnecessary. Sometimes it’s better to let your readers’ imaginations do the work, but that’s just my opinion based on personal preference and I do tend to nitpick a lot when it comes to time travel stories.
Also beware that once you start this book, you’ve pretty much committed yourself to reading the next one as well, as this is pretty obviously the first half of a two-parter. That would also explain how Coldmoon’s thread sort of just hangs there, and I assume his character will take on a much greater role in the follow-up. But there’s plenty more I also want to know, given how the book ends. Preston & Child have created a simply diabolical and creeptastic villain in Dr. Leng, and just thinking about what he did to Constance and her family makes my skin crawl. Some of our characters were left in quite a bind, and I will be waiting with curiosity to see what plot developments will emerge, what solutions will present themselves....more
Silver Nitrate is a book that’s all over the place, but in the best way possible! Leave it to Silvia Moreno-Garcia to come up with a highly original premise with a lot going on, yet she still manages to pull it all together flawlessly.
This story takes place in Mexico City in the 90’s—a time of sea change for Mexican cinema. Protagonist Montserrat Curiel is a talented sound editor working hard to get noticed in the film industry still dominated by men, and in her personal life she has all but given up on a fairy tale ending with her best friend Tristán, with whom she’s in love with since childhood. Both of them are horror film buffs, having grown up together watching the classics on TV. Handsome and charming, Tristán ended up turning to acting, becoming a soap opera star and achieving moderate celebrity until a tragic car accident and his subsequent struggles with addiction cut short his rise to success.
One day, Montserrat gets an excited call from Tristán who has just learned that retired cult horror filmmaker Abel Urueta is his new neighbor, and that he has invited them for dinner at his place. During their visit, the legendary director confides in them an extraordinary tale behind his most famous but unfinished movie, “Behind the Yellow Wall”, whose Nazi occultist screenwriter allegedly believed in drawing his magical powers from silver nitrate stock. It all sounded too incredible to be true, but then, so too had been the claims that the project was cursed yet bad luck seemed to have befallen everyone who worked on it. Abel himself saw his career ended, but he is convinced that he can rid himself of the curse if only he can finish the movie. That’s where Montserrat and Tristán come in. Abel wants them to help him shoot a missing scene which they readily agree to, not knowing that soon, they too will be inviting a dark presence into their lives.
“The curse of the lost film” seems to be a recurring theme in my horror reads lately. Earlier this summer I read The Devil’s Playground which had similar elements—and which was also a very good read. But while both books included a mystery plot and the paranormal, Silver Nitrate sets itself apart with an original setting, a wealth of Mexican film and horror movie history, plus a deeply moving and richly portrayed relationship between the two main characters.
Montserrat and Tristán may have a lot in common, but they also could not be any more different. As children, they bonded over an interest in film and both ended up working in the industry in some way. But while small, unassuming but fiercely independent Montserrat ended up in the technical side of things, Tristán’s capitalized on his good flashy looks to become a TV star. Still, while he may have the swagger and a dashing cinematic presence, his is the fragile personality compared to Montserrat’s bold fighting spirit. By his own admission, he is a coward whose life is a mess, always counting on his friend to save him and make things right. To his credit though, he is also a sweetheart and, like a devoted puppy, is completely loyal to his “Momo.” Relative to him, Montserrat is the one who has her life together and reads like she was born to be a heroine, always coming to Tristán’s rescue and being his emotional support even if he acts like he doesn’t appreciate it sometimes. Even with its ups and downs, the frustration and stresses, theirs is clearly a friendship based on a solid foundation.
Then there was the book’s unique setting. Of course, the backdrop of 90s Mexico City was certainly different, and not only did Moreno-Garcia do a fantastic job describing the visuals, but she’s managed to pin down the uniquely 90s vibe and atmosphere. The story also takes Montserrat and Tristán through many locations in the city, so much so that the milieu becomes as much a fundamental part of the story as the characters and plot.
In terms of the story, Silver Nitrate starts off at a slow-burning pace, gradually introducing the different elements, layer by layer, until the main premise is established. As such, if I had to give one caveat, it’s that a fair bit of patience may be required for the first half of the book. There’s just so much going on—a haunting, Nazi occultism, both the real and fictional magical properties of silver nitrate film, just to name a few things—it won’t be immediately clear how any of it is connected until much later.
However, I can promise that once all the puzzle pieces come together to form the full picture, it is absolutely worth it. Not only that, things wrapped up with a chef’s kiss of an ending. One thing’s for certain—I sure won’t let any more Silvia Moreno-Garcia books pass me by again. Highly recommended....more
It is 1846 in Mexico, shortly before the invasion by the United States Army. On the Rancho Los Ojuelos lived Nena Serrano, the eldest daughter of a ranchero, and Néstor Duarte, the son of a vaquero training to follow in his father’s footsteps. The two had been best friends since childhood, a relationship that deepened into something more as they grew up together, practically inseparable, which Nena’s parents saw as inappropriate. The year the children turned thirteen, preparations were set in motion to arrange a politically advantageous marriage for her. But before any of these plans could come to pass, Nena was attacked by a monster—a thing of the night that kills by draining its unsuspecting victims of all their blood. Believing Nena to be dead, a terrified and devastated Néstor flees from the rancho, vowing never to return.
Now, nine years later, as the Americans begin mobilizing their forces for an attack, a Mexican militia is being formed to fight off the Yanquís and the monstrous creatures they are rumored to employ. Néstor has decided to join up, but in doing so, it means he must return to Ranchos Los Ojuelos. There, he finds to his utter shock that Nena is not only alive and well, but she’s furious at him for having abandoned her. With war on the horizon, however, there’s no time to catch up. The two of them are swept up in the conflict, with Nena accompanying her father as he travels along with Néstor and the rest of the militia. When circumstances find them separated from the group, our former lovers must put aside their anger and bitter feelings long enough to work together and survive.
I believe Vampires of El Norte was likely intended to be part love story, part war story, and part vampire story, but let’s be real here: it’s mostly a love story. While author Isabel Cañas clearly spent a great deal of effort on researching the environment and historical events of the era, the Mexican War was meant only to fill the role of backdrop for this tale of rekindled romance. Likewise, the horror elements are supremely light, and despite the novel’s title, the vampires, like the war, were relegated mostly to the background.
Might this bait-and-switch have affected my enjoyment of the book a little? Probably. But let it not be said I can’t appreciate a story about star-crossed lovers kept apart by social status and wealth, and that’s not even accounting for the giant heap of misunderstandings between them. That said, this was a romance that just didn’t resonate with me. It’s laden with all kinds of clichés, including two of my biggest pet peeves in romance fiction: 1) that of miscommunication to create drama, and 2) characters using emotional manipulation to get their way.
I also feel the writing could have used a few extra rounds of editing. The author has this tendency to overuse fancy metaphors, leading to some very strange turns of phrase. I also came across several examples where on a single page there would be multiple uses of the same elaborate dialogue tag such as “rasped” or “breathed” and that was often distracting enough to pull me out of the story.
All in all, I can’t say I was brimming with enthusiasm while reading Vampires of El Norte. While I do find its premise original—that of a vampire story set in the time of the Mexican War—these original aspects didn’t actually feature all that much in the book. Instead, the entire narrative was overshadowed by a romance plot which included all the hackneyed qualities of romance plots I personally don’t find appealing or attractive. Of course, that’s just my preference. Readers who enjoy historical paranormal romance with a light splash of horror may find this more to their liking....more
Sharon Emmerich’s Shield Maiden is a historical fantasy novel which reimagines Beowulf from the perspective of a young woman, presenting an intriguing premise. However, that it is the author’s debut is also evident in the story’s unrealized potential and its noticeably rough edges.
The book begins with an introduction to Fryda of Clan Waegmunding, daughter of the Lord of Eceweall and also niece of King Beowulf, the legendary monster slayer turned ruler of Geatland. Ever since she was a little girl, Fryda has dreamed of becoming a shield maiden, an elite woman warrior, but a tragic accident soon put an end to those aspirations. With a shattered hand that became permanently misshapen even after it healed, the clandestine combat training sessions with the blacksmith is the closest she will ever get to a battlefield.
Still, Fryda has put her courage and compassion to work in other areas, becoming a natural leader, even if she is generally ignored by her father and twin brother Wiglaf. In a dramatic turn of events, her uncle Beowulf arrives at their hall for a feast celebrating his fifty-year reign on the throne. Amidst a large number of guests, the event becomes a chaotic affair, leading to perfect conditions for an attack. Fryda becomes victim of an attempted abduction, which is thankfully thwarted by her secret lover Theow, a Celtic slave. The incident also reveals a conspiracy to overthrow Fryda’s father, but of course, no one is willing to take her seriously, forcing our protagonist to take the investigation into her own hands.
First, the good: I love to check out unique retellings, and a fresh take on the Beowulf legend was certainly enticing. And ultimately, I think that’s where the strength of Shield Maiden lies. Beowulf himself may play a role, but for the most part, he is a background character. This is and always will be Fryda’s story, her journey to break free from societal norms and to fulfill her dreams on her own now that the conventional way is barred to her, which is the heart of the novel and an admirable message on its own. It’s also clear that the author has done a lot of research for this book, diving deep into the historical and cultural details to make the world come to life.
But now, for the not so great. While the book’s premise may be its strongest asset, there were a few major stumbling blocks that prevented it from fulfilling its full potential. My number one issue was the simplistic character development. Yes, Fryda’s motivations were commendable, but her behaviors and decisions were often predictable and unimaginative. Additionally, many of the interpersonal relationships seemed forced and one-dimensional. Fryda could do no wrong, for example, and her heart remains oh so pure and free of bitterness despite her one true dream being ripped away from her as a child. She and she alone in the entire clan was kind to the slaves and servants, and everyone loved her, including of course Uncle Beowulf with whom she has a special friendship. I mean, one can’t help but wonder if the book might have been written with elements of wish-fulfillment in mind.
In the end, Shield Maiden proved to be an enjoyable and entertaining read, and I think it will also appeal to those looking for a different approach to the retellings of classic legends. Still, I did finish it with a yearning for more depth and complexity in both story and characters, which I’m sure the author will get a chance to refine in her future projects. I’ll be watching what she does next with interest....more
I’m always fascinated with authors who migrate from genre to genre or, in Chloe Gong’s case, jump from writing YA to adult fiction. When I heard that she would be releasing her adult fantasy debut, and that it would be inspired by Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra, I was immediately intrigued.
Note that “inspired” is the operative word here. In truth this is in no way a retelling, even a loose one, but what it does is explore the classic play’s theme of enduring obsessive love in a very unique way. After all, I suppose anything would be “enduring” if your characters were immortal, or effectively so. In a world where some individuals can jump bodies at will, transferring their qi from one vessel to another, the best jumpers who are also good at preserving their life force can theoretically live forever. But life is also miserable in the kingdom of Talin, where this story takes place. In the capital twin-cities of San-Er, poverty is widespread amongst the general populace while the members of the monarchy live lavish, decadent lives. People are so poor and their morale so low, the only thing they have to look forward to every year are the gladiatorial-style games where competitors with the ability to jump bodies fight each other to the death. The winner would be awarded riches beyond their wildest dreams and be invited to join the upper echelons of society.
When you have nothing to lose, the games are worth the risk. For Anton Makusa, an exiled aristocrat who has already lost almost everything, the prize money would be enough to save the only thing left he has to live for—his comatose lover who needs expensive medical care to survive. He’s also confident that he’s the best of the 88 contestants in this year’s games, having honed himself into a deadly weapon with years of body jumping experience. However, what he didn’t count on was Calla Tuoleimi, herself a princess in hiding. Years ago, she killed her own parents in a bloody massacre and has been planning on ending the oppressive monarchy ever since. To do that though, she would have to assassinate the king, and the only way to get close to him would be to win the games. With the help of Prince August, who wants to overthrow his father, Calla enters the fray under a disguise. Eventually, she faces off with Anton and recognizes in him a worthy ally. However, only one can win the games, and in spite of herself, Calla finds herself falling for Anton, making her mission to be the final victor much more difficult.
Let me just start by saying Immortal Longings wasn’t a bad book, in that I found it entertaining enough, and that I can honestly say I was never bored. That said, it had a lot of issues, starting with the fact that, violence and graphic sex scenes aside, this didn’t feel much like an adult novel. Everything from the writing style to the level of depth in the plot and characters suggest a work of YA with just older protagonists. There’s simply too much that doesn’t hold up to even the lightest scrutiny, and as I’m reviewing this as a piece of adult fiction, I’m going to be a lot less forgiving.
First of all, while I am definitely one to appreciate complexity in magic systems and world-building, I’m just not completely sold on either the concept of body jumping or the book’s setting which is supposedly inspired by the historical area of Hong Kong known as the Kowloon Walled City. To the author’s credit, her descriptions of the surroundings are quite ample to the point of effusive, and yet I was still never able to picture the world of Talin clearly in my mind. On the socioeconomical and political levels, details were also painted with a broad brush and very sparse, and the time period was likewise confusing.
Then we have the characters. In a nutshell, they read like stereotypical YA archetypes, and when you add in the Hunger Games-esque premise, that feeling is even more pronounced. Each of them can be summed up in a couple sentences, their motivations shallow and predictable. Again, this might be par for the course when it comes to YA, but in this instance I wanted more. Frankly, it’s also bewildering why Gong based her characters on Antony, Cleopatra, and Octavian/Augustus in the first place. All this does is place unrealistic expectations on our protagonists, frustrating readers when they fail to meet them, and Anton, Calla, and August certainly fell short on the mark in my eyes. It feels as though Gong only managed to scratch the surface when it comes to their character development, prioritizing the throwaway thrills of action sequences over meaningful depth.
In sum, Immortal Longings started off as a promising adult debut from Chloe Gong, but perhaps it might have been too ambitious. While it had its share of interesting ideas and some genuine highs, on the whole its story, character, and world-building elements feel too superficial and undeveloped for the novel to earn more than a middling rating....more
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