Indie Book Spotlight: The Thief and the Throne (Rookwood)

{Note: I received an advanced copy in exchange for an honest review.)

Lira Potion-maker is back…minus her talent with potions. In fact, the ex-circus girl can’t even read a decent fortune these days.

The second book of Helena Rookwood’s imaginative Carnival of Fae series finds Lira fleeing with the perennially handsome and irritating Kit, whose true motivations are unknown. The reception they’ll receive at their timely winter destination? Also unknown. The reason Lira can use fae artifacts she’s never seen before? You guessed it: unknown. The only thing Lira does know is that the eyes of the Fae gods are upon her, and that ain’t good.

Lira is easily one of the best female main characters in fantasy. She’s strong without being a fighter, a fantasy character who does not lose herself to fantasy; if her heart beats a little faster at the sight—or touch—of a handsome young man, she is back to being an ever practical and self-serving survivor a moment later. She lies, cheats, and ignores advice in favor of what she (very impatiently) would rather happen. She also has no interest in the lives of the wealthy and powerful—just the sort of people she finds herself surrounded with these days.

Fae artifacts cause serious trouble in The Thief and the Throne, especially for Lira, who can use them without training–and like everyone else, she has no idea why.

All of this is a bold choice by author Rookwood (really, when was that last time you read a heroine who lies that frequently and isn’t a spy or something?). But Lira is never unlikable, even if her actions make the reader cringe from time to time. That’s because no matter what happens (and a whole lot does, in this book), Lira is always true to herself. Her well-developed character allows her to make mistakes and still be a MC worth following. In fact, it often makes her story more exciting.

The Thief and the Throne has a smaller scope than the dazzlingly magical The Prince and the Poisoner. Lira’s choices, once a focal point of the series, have dwindled, leaving the story with a higher ratio of action to intrigue. The Thief and the Throne derives a lot of its tension from character development, too. You can never really be sure who will end up helping Lira, or who will do worse than the opposite.

One development is the labeled slow-burn romance. It comes in the form of a very pleasant Mr. Darcy-esque twist, one we’ll have to wait for the sequel to see more of. I won’t say who the potential love interest is, but in the world of Carnival of Fae, nothing is for sure.

There are some genuinely cool moments in The Thief and the Throne, interesting twists and a persistently wonderful (if more sinister) magical world. This is an enjoyable and exciting read, and the perfect follow-up to The Prince and the Poisoner. You’ll never think of the smell of caramel (burnt or otherwise) the same way again.

Review: A Song Below Water (Morrow)

A Song Below Water Review

I adored this book and the beautiful relationship between its two narrators, Tavia and Effie.

The story lines in A Song Below Water feel timely, but would have fit decades ago, too (with one exception: this YA fantasy is anchored to the present by Tavia’s devotion to a fictional YouTube star). Its themes are comprehensive: activism, fear rooted in bigotry (through mythos), racism, sexism, the drive a parent feels to keep a child safe from that discrimination and, rising above them all, friendship and found family.

Tavia’s voice is power—literally, when she uses her siren voice. But being a siren is dangerous, tied into the fact that only black women and girls have been sirens in recent times. Tavia’s throat burns when she suppresses her voice, but—according to her father—being outed as a siren is the worst thing that could happen. She’s worn down by a life spent wading through society’s fears, her father’s and her own.

A Song Below Water‘s other protagonist, Effie, is the antidote for all that, even if she can’t take it away. They aren’t really sisters, but now that they live together they might as well be. Oh, and she’s a mermaid. Not in real life, but she plays one at the Renaissance faire she loves. Effie’s love for it goes back to her mother, who was a performer, too, and since her mother’s death, it’s how she holds on.

She might not be a real mermaid, but it’s clear Effie is something. As the girls negotiate a sometimes cruel and frequently, dangerously misunderstanding world (same goes for their high school), their bond of sisterhood guides them through and propels the story line. That and the mysterious gargoyle that roosts on Tavia’s roof.

This is a great story, well told, and more. A Song Below Water is chuck full of lessons in empathy for non-black readers. Morrow does some of her best work in Tavia’s narration. “I’m not up for educating anyone on how many things exist that they don’t know about or support, even if we are basically friends,” says Tavia, too worn to explain when she’s questioned about why she watches hair videos on YouTube. And, later, “the only ones who seem to stand for Black girls are Black girls.”

The popular girls have magic to boost their charm, but Tavia and Effie have it all on their own. They read like real girls.

As A Song Below Water progresses, Tav moves ever closer to activism, and gets a big jolt forward when another young woman reveals herself as a siren. It gives Tavia more than one reason to join in, and more than one reason to be afraid. Yet, at the protest, she says, “I feel honest here. I feel like a battery being recharged. Like an orphan coming home.”

A Song Below Water is wonderfully crafted, too. The mystery of Effie’s identity—and that of her father—kept me turning pages late into the night (even when I guessed part of the answer). I had to know what happened to these fully realized characters. The story might be wrapped up a little quickly and neatly, but it’s not without heartache. For some of the characters, it will never be neat enough.

And one other thing: these are real girls on the page. (I can’t speak to whether their slang is accurate, but it did make me feel old, so there’s that.) It was refreshing. Tavia and Effie’s stories are crammed full of the ache of facing the world (and boys, and parents) as young adults. Their emotions and fears feel real and unforced, and their characters are never diminished just because they do something girly. They’re competent, confident, and capable of independently navigating the world, even if all the supernatural happenings are overwhelming them. They cry without looking like crybabies, without ever seeming weak.

Yes, they also care about their hair and poor Effie’s skin, but they aren’t made to look vapid or silly while doing it. They’re two teenagers taking charge, trying to figure out how to grow up and how to write the manuals for their lives, the way we all have to. Effie gets self-conscious. Tav braves the minefield of popular elokos who have it all. She also worries about whether she will be allowed to grow up because of who she is.

The romance angles are never soapy or sappy, only authentically awkward and sweet (or heartbreaking. In both cases, it doesn’t consume either girl’s life). Its characters could easily walk off the page, but it’s the bittersweet nature of A Song Below Water that makes its plot feel true. In that way, this is not just timely but a timeless story, with a universal message you don’t need to be young to remember:

True friendship is rare, and growing up, no matter who you are (or because of who you are), is no small feat.

Indie Book Spotlight: Sting Magic (Wilson)

It’s time for another Indie Book Spotlight!

Note: I received a free advanced reader copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

Sting Magic, the first book in the new Empire of War and Wings series by prolific author Sarah K.L. Wilson, is a typo-dotted triumph. There are three reasons for that: world-building, a unique magic system, and the fact that it is never boring.

Main character Aella lives in a wild colony, the Far Stones, where residents have freedom and hardships alike. They’re poor and backwards by Imperial standards, but most of their time is spent farming in a land that likes to turn upside down and murder them—the Forbidding, a strange, viney magic that corrupts trees and bears and whatever else it can find. Aella’s family is her everything.

And then the heir to the Empire shows up.

That’s when Aella finds out that she has the same winged, creative twist on familiars-style magic as the Empire’s most celebrated warriors. It’s a dream and a nightmare for her. Except, instead of having birds like literally everyone, Aella hatches golden, magical bees. Heresy!

Aella is forced to leave her family to become property of the ruthless Le Majest, Juste Montpetit. In the course of a few hours she loses everything, with only the warm glow of her cute and happy bee familiars to comfort her. Aella has a litany of horrors to face as she travels through a perilous land alongside violent Imperials, and more than few mysteries to solve as she tries to save her family and weighs joining the rebels.

Familiar magic: Readers will love to hate Sting Magic‘s ruthless villain and adore Aella’s bees.

Sting Magic is a shorter novel that moves at a brisk pace. The cozy but disgruntled domestic scenes at the beginning are the closest it ever gets to slow, plus the “let me barge in and spend a long time asserting my authority even though I clearly have other houses to get to” encounter with the cruel prince that immediately follows it. The latter scene could have been more concise and still left the reader wanting to punch Juste Montpetit if given the chance. He’s pure villain, but it works.

An early exchange with Ospey also feels a touch long, and there’s a bit of bouncing around the timeline here and there that can be confusing. But the high stakes for the main character, combined with the mysteries of her magical and dangerous homeland, keep things moving.

That being said, Sting Magic wasn’t fully my cup of tea. One of its biggest weaknesses is its main character, not a weak female MC at all but a broadly sketched one. Aella is more reactive than anything, and replies angrily to her captors when I would’ve expected a brooding, calculating silence, given her goals. She’s a contradiction that way, flying off the handle despite repeatedly being told she could endanger her family, the absolute last thing she wants. She doesn’t read like a person with a hot temper, either.

I was relieved when Aella finally did something proactive toward her goal, and it filled in some of her missing personality. Still, I left the book with only a weak sense of who she is. (I hope Aella will be fleshed out more in the rest of the series.)

One of the reasons Aella’s weak personality stands out so much is because the other characters are so well-rendered: the irredeemably villainous prince, Juste Montpetit; the snooty society gal who just might be a friend, Zayana; the mentor with the huge personality, Ivo; and Osprey, the toothpick-gnawing would-be ally she can’t fully trust. They are never described extensively (Osprey gets a little extra detail so you’ll know he’s handsome), but the things these characters say and do gave me a clear picture of them and their personalities.

The magic system and world-building of Sting Magic are, of course, superb. I wished the writing was a bit more polished (those typos and repetitive phrases!), but the interesting world Wilson created kept me turning pages.

This is a quick read I recommend picking up, in which you can despise the villain, root for the heroine to accomplish her goals (“Be relentless.”), and lose yourself if an intriguing and dangerous world of fabulous magic.

Indie Book Spotlight: Snowblind (Velfman)

At long last! A fantasy about a character with chronic illness, whose affliction isn’t treated like something to be overcome and isn’t there to inspire anyone.

Lanna is a Southerner, born in a cold, harsh land full of rules. She also suffers from seizures. In a place where survival is anything but a guarantee, she’ll never be considered a full adult. It’s one of many reasons we first meet Lanna and her equally tough-as-nails family on the road to the more plentiful Empire.

Look at an Amazon preview (I’m not affiliated), and you’ll instantly know that Snowblind is exquisitely written. The details and descriptions are never rushed but don’t hinder the story flow, either. Those careful descriptions create an immersive world I felt I could walk around in.

In fact, Velfman does twice the world-building by creating two very different settings. The outer village Lanna first resides in, falls in love in (also perfectly rendered; she makes him work for it), and the Imperial capital (the hall that houses the concubines is its own world, with its own flower language) are like characters themselves. And all the characters in Snowblind are well-developed.

Lanna is a sort of goldilocks female MC. She has a heart, and it is available to her suitor, if he can earn it. But she also can give an ox a run for its money with her work ethic and strength. She is practical, savvy, and never silly, even in the thrall of a romantic storyline with Pride and Prejudice qualities (though, thanks to Lanna’s culture, it’s not as restrictive or chaste).

Unfortunately, Snowblind did need more copy-editing. There are more typos than in W.R. Gingell’s Spindle (also loved and reviewed here), but it does surpass those issues and continue to be an amazing, well-written story. There is also a chapter or two that made me squeamish, in which a slave sings the praises of the Empire’s supposedly benevolent form of slavery to Lanna, who is horrified. I would have preferred it be called something else, since it isn’t slavery at all. She is told slaves can leave whenever they like.

All that is a part of a this is the Empire and what you learned in the South is totally backwards theme, but it was too close to real-life revisionist history for me. It’s thankfully brief. Lanna also curses a gay character who drugs her by calling him a pervert and corrupter of men, though before and (eventually) after this they are friends. These are very small episodes in the book, but as I am recommending Snowblind I wanted to share this for full disclosure.

Another remarkable thing about this book is how well the tension and intrigue was layered (the complex characters play no small part in this). Lanna is ripped from everything and everyone she knows and loves, and has no choice in the matter. We always know what’s in her heart. The people who surround her are sometimes kind, sometimes not, and there are always hints at a deeper agenda.

A lovely, Pride and Prejudice-esque romance, Machiavellian characters, great world-building, court intrigue and a fine representation of the chronically ill: a lot of good things are packed into this debut fantasy.

An antagonist in the capital is the only character with overt goals, and she tries to thwart, disgrace and generally ruin Lanna without qualm. But the others aren’t so easily pinned. In Snowblind, the real “villains” are more ambiguous, and a heck of a lot better at concealing it. These are no mustache-twirling bad guys tying maidens to a railroad track. They might manipulate the maiden, though, or toss her aside if she gets in the way of their true aim. They’re a lot more Machiavelli than, say, Voldemort.

Amidst all this is the repeated interruption of Lanna’s seizures, the thing that has always kept her from the life she wants. The powerlessness of chronic illness is captured so well and so sensitively that I could’ve cried. “All her life there had been a wall,” the book says of Lanna. “Her sickness had been a barrier to so much. Angry at her own mind for being defective she clutched her head, and something in her snapped…Then the tears came: hot, regretful and bitter.”

As people who (possibly) mean well make her illness worse, as it changes and complicates her life and keeps her from her simplest, most essential needs (love, family, productivity and the ability to choose where she will go), this book spoke to me. This is the kind of representation I’ve been waiting for. I hoped it would be what it looked like in Snowblind’s description, and I wasn’t disappointed.

Flaws and all, this is a wonderfully written book, and I very much look forward to snatching up the rest of Lanna’s story.

Want to know when the next review will be out?

Indie Book Spotlight: Daughter of Shades (Mercedes)

It’s time for another…

No book can be Sabriel. But fans of Garth Nix’s Abhorsen series may want to pick this one up.

Main character Ayleth is a fighter. She’s possessed by a shade, a wolf-like spirit named Laranta—and that happened on purpose. As a member of the Order of St. Evander, she shares her body with a magically, musically suppressed shade so she can battle other shades from the Haunts. But giving her shade a name, and even identifying Laranta as female, is forbidden by the Order. In fact, young Ayleth’s bordering on heresy.

Ayleth, like her shade, is still a bit feral. She works on instinct, even after years of training under her mistress in a woodsy outpost. But she’s incomplete in other ways, too: Ayleth has no memory of her life before she was joined by Laranta. She knocks on the door of those memories from time to time, but no dice.

What she really wants is a post of her own. She wants to get out of her tiny, safe-ish world. It’s a classic story with an intriguing twist, thanks to its fantastic world building.

Better than just romance: Ayleth finds rivalry and curse-breaking smooches along her speculative journey.

Daughter of Shades really gets moving around chapters six and seven. Ayleth’s story benefits from new, long-term characters, who bring out qualities other than those in her defiant-teen dynamic with her mistress. Her newly independent status also comes with a touch of romance—thankfully, not too much, thought it threatens to be at first. Poor Ayleth never sees men outside her work, and she’s more than a bit overly impressed. That portrayal is awkward, because she’s no starry-eyed damsel. I don’t think most readers would want her to be.

Fortunately, her story veers in a far better direction: a rivalry blossoms where a soapy romance might, and gives the story further layers.

There’s a fun nod to the Sleeping Beauty folktale in a type of curse, a unique magic system of different types of shades, magics and poisons, and pleasantly chilling settings. From a cursed forest to the unwatchable glimpses of the haunts, it has enough of a touch of horror to make a really good campfire tale, but still left me still able to sleep at night. (Yes, I’m that big of a scaredy cat.)

My one issue, which probably kept me from getting into the book sooner, is the way Daughter of Shades begins with the possessed body of a dog. It’s not for the squeamish or the animal lovers, but after the first few chapters that plotline is over. I did find it hard to read before that, and while the world interested me, I think the opener (which included a little bait and switch from Ayleth) held it back. The hardened venatrix she first appears as is an interesting gal, and it takes a while for the real Ayleth to catch up.

Ultimately, Daughter of Shades leaves readers with a lot to wonder about (not in a bad way), and the growing action in the last quarter or so of the book keeps the pages turning. Both things, combined with the unusual world-building, made it an easy call for me to keep reading The Venatrix Chronicles.

(And to be honest, I’ll be waiting to see how that romance comes along, too…but don’t spread that around.)

Sure, you can find better writing out there, but that’s no guarantee it can build interest and suspense like this book. Ayleth’s spirited adventures are worth tagging along for—and sometimes, a person just needs a good (slightly!) scary story, with or without the campfire.

Indie Book Spotlight: Spindle (Gingell)

Today we slap a well-deserved gold star on…

Spindle Review Graphic

Spindle, by W.R. Gingell (Two Monarchies Sequence Book One, 2015, New Adult Fantasy/Fairy Tales/Romantic Fantasy).


Do you like fairy tale re-tellings, in which the original story is folded, spindled (ha!) and mashed into the unrecognizable and unique origami shapes of a drowsy heroine pretending to be the legendary sleeping princess people think she is, a little boy pretending rather convincingly to be a dog, an absent-minded wizard not even pretending to be listening (whose catchphrase might as well be “Huh. That’s interesting”), a malignant magical cube on a battlefield, a village in the shape of a spiral that’s bent by a jinx and an obvious but slippery villain?

Phew. That was one quirky mouthful. Today’s indie book spotlight lands on W.R. Gingell’s delightful Spindle, a fun and absorbing retelling of Sleeping Beauty that resembles the original almost not at all, in the very best way.

The magic system of Spindle is thread-based and interesting (and also literally hairy), with three different types of magic, each rarer than the last. The reader is dropped into it with no explanation. That leaves us catching up with what cursed heroine Poly (the non-princess sleeper) is discovering she can do as she discovers it, and as mystified as she is about what her rescuer, Luck, does with his magic. And he isn’t one to explain. It gives the world an authentic feeling, and keeps the pages turning, too.

Warm, silly, creative and clever: Not every book can surpass its typos like Spindle can. This wacky and wonderful book deserves all the stars I can chuck at it.

It isn’t a perfect book, but don’t let that stop you. The grammarian in me warns you that there are more typos in this book than the other high-quality indie books I’ve reviewed. Hyphens are almost nowhere to be found in the entire text, and the writing at the beginning left me as fuzzy as newly-awakened Poly. But its almost lyrical quality and the twisted presentation of an old tale cued me that this was worth reading. By the end I was beaming, and also leaving five star reviews without hesitation.

This isn’t a book that leans on its fun settings and quirky characters alone, either: it’s as imaginative as a fantasy reader could ever want. I continue to be amazed by the way little aspects of the plot and world-building came together at the end. It was clearly well-thought out and cleverly executed. And it’s enjoyable. You’ll find serious stakes and fierce fights here (and a bit of violence), but no endless doom and gloom.

Poly is also a heroine who gets kissed awake, then slugs her disinterested smoocher. She continually demands her personal space, which helps the romance feel earned. And she’s not a one-man gal, either; she has a couple forays into youthful romances, and who she ends up with is never truly a given (although a pair of time travelers threaten to spoil the suspense).

Spindle has more depth than just a romance plot, too. More than one kind of love is integral to the plot, and Poly’s development: there are parts about female friendship and kinship where there could have been a solid rivalry, a melancholic side-plot about the man who could’ve woken her, and a growing bond with the boy-turned dog that is crucial to Poly reclaiming a life after so many years of sleep. All of this advances the plot—and presumably sets it up for the next book in the series.

Well-rounded, often funny, carefully developed, with unique magic systems and a dive in-able magical world, Spindle is a fabulous book. Get past the opaque earliest chapters and typos, and you may adore it just as much as I do.

Supporting diversity in fantasy

Supporting Diversity in Fantasy

I’m back.

I wanted to reaffirm my commitment to reading authors of diverse backgrounds, and stories featuring diversity and non-white leads (something particularly important in fantasy). I’m going to do this by making a more concentrated effort to read said books, and by making sure I review the ones I’ve already read.

We’ve all seen how fantastic books like the three in N.K. Jemisin’s The Broken Earth series have changed fantasy. We need more. We need international authors in translation, diverse authors, diverse characters, and a broader and more authentic inclusion of other cultures in our world-building.

Just think about the way Russian mythology in Katherine Arden’s The Bear and the Nightingale felt like a breath of fresh air, and you’ll realize just how narrow fantasy is. Let’s not do that anymore. Give us all the places. Show us the cultures and well-rounded characters. Support books that do that by buying or borrowing them and leaving reviews along with me.

Note: I’ve updated this post to include a few author recommendations of my own (and one new author I’m excited about!), in no particular order, below.


Authors You’ll Love

Alexis Hendersen

The Year of the Witching is all the mystery, horror and serious trouble with witches you could ask for.  Don’t expect it to wrap up too neatly: a sequel is on the way to this beautifully (and creepily) descriptive book.

Bethany C. Morrow

A Song Below Water (YA Fantasy) is as compelling as…you know (my review here). A wonderful story of found-family sisterhood, identity, protest and myth set in a version of our world with modern mythological beings. The Renaissance fair mermaids might not be real, but the sirens and elokos are. A second book in the series, A Chorus Rises, is due out this year.

Intisar Khanani

Khanani is an indie author who is now a traditionally published one, too. She writes strong, diverse heroines, like Hitomi in the Sunbolt Chronicles (read my review of Book One here.) She is also the author who changed my mind about self-publishing.

N.K. JemisIn

The queen of science fantasy, if not all of fantasy. Jemisin won three consecutive Hugo Awards for The Broken Earth Trilogy, a series that knocked my socks off and only got better. With literary-caliber writing and an original world, Jemisin broke the mold in fantasy and made a new one. And there are more highly acclaimed books and series by Jemisin, too.

Silvia Moerno-Garcia

If you don’t know her yet, you will. Mexican Gothic will soon be a series (I can’t say this enough: don’t let anyone spoil the plot twist for you). But it’s Gods of Jade and Shadow that won, and broke, my heart. A classic fantasy odyssey set in Mexico and using Mayan and other regional mythology, it’s a truly unforgettable book.

Stephanie BwaBwa

Seraphim Falling (YA Epic Fantasy) is on my TBR list! With her first book released in 2020, BwaBwa is a more recent discovery of mine, and with a series that reminds me of Sharon Shinn’s Samaria series, I can’t wait to check it out!


Read More:

Kobo: 10 must-read diverse sci-fi and fantasy novels

Book Riot: 9 Diverse Fantasy Books that will Challenge your Idea of Fantasy Fiction

BookBub: 13 Acclaimed Sci-Fi and Fantasy Novels by Black Authors

Cheers and be well,

-C.K.

The C.K. Beggan Bookish Blog

The C.K. Beggan Bookish Blog

Welcome to The C.K. Beggan Bookish Blog! If you’re looking for your next read, titles are listed alphabetically and divided by indie and traditional publishing. (If you look closely enough, you may even find some non-fantasy books.) And while you’re here, don’t forget to check out the author interviews and special features, which include book lists by theme!

Independently Published Books: C.K. Beggan‘s Indie Book Spotlight

Fiction

Reviews of the best (and my favorite) fantasy and speculative fiction novels I’ve come across so far, all by indie authors.

Atheist’s Angel (Anna Velfman)

Avalanche (Anna Velfman)

Between Jobs (W.R. Gingell)

The Borderlands Princess (Ophelia Wells Langley)

Bride of the Shadow King (Sylvia Mercedes)

The Cracked Slipper (Stephanie Alexander)

The Crown Plonked Queen (Andrew Einspruch)

The Cursebound Thief (Megan O’Russell) 

Cursed (Callie Pey)

A Darkness at the Door (Intisar Khanani)

The Daughter of Earth (Callie Pey)

Daughter of Shades (Silvia Mercedes)

Droplets of Magic (Emily Bybee)

The Eastie Threat (Andrew Einspruch)

An Enchantment of Thorns (Helena Rookwood & Elm Vince)

Enchanting Fate (Ashley Evercott)

The Fool and the Sparrow (Dana Fox)

The Fox and the Briar (Chesney Infalt)

Frozen Hearts and Death Magic (Day Leitao)

Guardian of Talons and Snares (Anastasis Blythe)

Heart of Cinders (J. Darlene Everly)

Her Dreadful Will (Rebecca F. Kenney)

Icedancer (Anna Velfman)

The Lily Gate (Hanna Sandvig) – coming soon

Maiden of Candlelight and Lotuses (Anastasis Blythe)

Married by Fate (Jenny Hickman)

Married by War (Sarah K.L. Wilson)

Married by Wind (Angela J. Ford)

Music of the Night (Angela J. Ford)

Of Heists and Hexes (S.L. Prater)

Of Roses and Rituals (S.L. Prater)

Of Silver and Secrets (Sylvia Mercedes)

Of Smoke and Shadow (Ophelia Wells Langley)

Phoenix Heart, Season One, Episode One: Ashes (Sarah K.L. Wilson)

The Prince and the Poisoner (Helena Rookwood)

A Promise of Thorns (Helena Rookwood & Elm Vince)

The Purple Haze (Andrew Einspruch)

Rise of the Fire Queen (Alisha Klapheke)

The Road to Farringale (Charlotte E. English)

Stolen by the Shadow King (Alisha Klapheke)

Sunbolt (Intisar Khanani)

Spindle (W.R. Gingell)

Sting Magic (Sarah K.L. Wilson)

Snowblind (Anna Velfman)

Tapestry of Night (Elm Vince)

The Thief and the Throne (Helena Rookwood)

A Trial of Thorns (Helena Rookwood & Elm Vince)

Throne of Sand (Helena Rookwood & Elm Vince)

To Carve a Fae Heart (Tessonja Odette)

Twelve Days of Faery (W.R. Gingell)

Warrior of Blade and Dusk (Anastasis Blythe)

Wish Marked (Lissa Bolts) 

Wizardom Legends: Thief for Hire (Jeffrey L. Kohanek) – coming soon

Nonfiction

Traditionally Published Books: Reviews of All My Favs

My favorite books in the fantasy, noir, literary and speculative fiction genres that have been released by traditional publishers.

Author Interviews: One Author to Another

A new category! In which I do my best to pose thoughtful questions to some of my favorite indie authors.

 

Anastasis Blythe, live October 1, 2022 – 11 Questions with Anastasis Blythe, author of Guardians of Talons and Snares

Chesney Infalt, June 3, 2022 – 10 Questions with Chesney Infalt, author of The Fox and the Briar

Anna Velfman, April 15, 2022 – 10 Questions with author Anna Velfman, author of Snowblind

Andrew Einspruch, May 25, 2021 – Questions with the hilarious, award-winning author of The Light Bearer

Helena Rookwood and Elm Vince, April 10, 2021 – Questions with the co-authors of An Enchantment of Thorns

Nicki Chapelway, November 13, 2024 – 8 Questions with the no spice romantic fantasy author of This Hollow Heart

Special Features: Authors, Books and Writing

From Ask an Indie Author to trivia to Book Lists, find blog posts featuring by topic, writing tips and Indie Author Spotlights.

Announcement: Of Storms and Stardust Charity Anthology – November 2024

Press Release: The Prince or the Bard? – October 2024

Indie Author Spotlight: Tessonja Odette – August 2022

Of Thieves and Shadows cover reveal! (BOMM tour) – live 8/23/22

Rise of the Fire Queen is here! (Book News) (8/7/22)

Ask an Indie Author with Ashley Evercott – How I make my book covers shine on social media? (7/15/22)

Indie Author Spotlight: Anthea Sharp – June 2022

Six of Crows month content (June 2022)

8 Fantasy Books with Delicious Cliffhanger Endings (Including Six of Crows)

9 Fantastic quotes from the Six of Crows duology

10 Books to read after Six of Crows

Kaz Brekker and my Fjerdan heist level character hangover

Trivia: Do You Know Kaz Brekker?

Trivia: How well do you know Six of Crows?

Trivia: How well do you know the Six of Crows duology characters?

From Storm and Shadow cover reveal! (BOMM tour) – 5/30/22

16+ Awesome Asian-Inspired Fantasy Worlds – 5/27/22 – A book list with settings from the Middle East to the Pacific Islands

Weaver cover reveal! (BOMM tour) – 5/10/22

Vow of the Shadow King cover reveal (BOMM tour) – 5/4/22

A Throne of Shadows Cover reveal! (BOMM tour) – 4/28/22

A Darkness at the Door cover reveal – 4/22/22 – in which I discuss the Dauntless Path series and reveal the fabulous cover

Retellings to Thrill Any Fantasy Reader – A complete list of fairy tale and classic book retellings I’ve reviewed on the blog

Supporting Diversity in Fantasy – A mission statement for the blog, plus links to authors who feature diverse characters in their work

Lessons from Bestsellers Part I (Using Contrast to Create Depth) – Learning from Hannah and Leo in The German Girlby Armando Lucas Correa

Lessons from Bestsellers Part II (Using Contrast to Create Depth) – A look at the many sides of Ali in S.A. Chakraborty’s City of Brass

Lessons from Bestsellers Part III (Using Contrast to Create Depth) – A mystery and a terrible truth rounds out Bethany C. Morrow’s A Song Below Water

5 Awkward Situations to Make Your MC Shine – Examples of awkwardness that endear main characters to readers in some of my favorite books

YA books that changed the game (#3 of 9)

I read this one 20+ years ago, and it’s stayed near and dear to my heart all this time. Which means I had to re-read it before posting this. I’m talking about the one, the only…

Alanna: the First Adventure (Pierce) Review

Alanna: The First Adventure, by Tamora Pierce (The Song of the Lioness, 1983, YA Fantasy/Adventure)

This one seems short compared to today’s YA fantasies, with a classic plot line and a wonderfully designed world (Pierce uses the same world for other series, including The Numair Chronicles and The Immortals—and often the same characters). The young, small hero(ine) overcomes her weaknesses through hard work, is brave and doesn’t back down as she strives to become a knight. She just has to pretend to be a boy to do it.

Alanna is a rough-and-tumble, capable and sometimes temperamental girl, and to her, it is completely not fair that she isn’t a boy. That honor goes to her twin brother Thom, her complete opposite: young Alanna is afraid of the magic she holds, while Thom loves it; Alanna is kind and considerate (one would say honorable and chivalrous), Thom not so much, though both twins have a mischievous streak; and Alanna loves hunting, sword play, riding horses, archery—you get the idea—while Thom sees little point to wielding things with points.

A switch is in order, with Alanna becoming Alan and going off to service at the palace, while Thom, destined for the same, goes to the City of the Gods to learn all that magic stuff Alanna hates. She doesn’t have to become a lady, and he doesn’t have to become a warrior.

But Alanna doesn’t get to leave magic entirely behind. She has a true gift for healing, and a warning from the gods says that she must heal to make up for the lives she’ll take as a warrior (you don’t hear anyone telling the real boys that; no wonder she doesn’t listen at first). For all her magic, even she can’t change her nature. Being a girl threatens to deny her everything she’s ever wanted; the strict gender roles of her time and country mean she can’t be herself.

Alanna’s non-stop adventure isn’t just a feminist tale, it’s a human one that every developing human could benefit from–and of course enjoy.

Many of the things Alanna thinks and says seem to suggest a transgender child; perhaps she would be if the story were written later, but that doesn’t appear to be Alanna’s theme. She always intends to reveal she’s a girl–after she becomes a knight, so they can no longer deny her. In a straightforward way that is part of (and not a high-horse diversion from) the story, Alanna is about the restrictions gender roles put on everyone, and how it affects a person’s destiny. Alanna defies it, but most of us struggle to, won’t or can’t. She’s a hero where heroes cannot tread. How many YA fantasies manage to show their readers that?

Other books in the genre, set in a prior period, manage a tough and adventuring gal on a horse—but like Ginger Rogers (she did the same as Fred Astaire, except backwards and in heels), YA fantasy heroines often have to do it all with long hair and a skirt or dress. Not Alanna. She fully embraces her kingdom’s male role, even if mother nature sometimes gets in her way. Even Aria Stark never has to pause for a period.

I wouldn’t have understood the value of all this, reading it for the first time as a young teen (I think the extent was: Girl becoming a knight! Thrashing the boys and proving herself! Yeah!). The way all of this is handled in Alanna is at just the right level for a young person, yet better appreciated as an adult.

At the same time, I can’t help wondering how much I already identified with Alanna’s plight when I was young, and how much every young teenage or pre-teen girl does. I didn’t remember Alanna’s lamentations about being a girl who’s not allowed to do things, which means I either thought it was just part of the story and had nothing to do with today, or on some level took it as true. Now it stands out. It almost seems too obvious.

Other parts of Alanna: the First Adventure I remembered clear as day, like a trip back through time (a truly great book, or song, can do that). I remembered reading one particular scene with the Thief King George on my grandparents’ couch one summer, like it’s a photograph. It very happily took me back. Still, on this re-read, the level of Alanna’s ire at being stuck as a girl surprised me.

It’s not just her, though: her brother Thom wants nothing to do with the path expected of him as a boy-slash-son, which is neatly done; he also has to pretend to be less intelligent and talented than he is, so he doesn’t earn undue attention and won’t be perceived as a threat. This isn’t a feminist tale, it’s a human one. And I would recommend it to any developing human.

All of that was just about the premise, which matters, of course, but doesn’t do it justice. Alanna: the First Adventure is also a lovely read, and Pierce’s writing can draw a person in and keep them there, even if you only give her less than a page. After all these years, I can’t stop myself from rooting for Alanna, an undersized, courageous and stubborn heroine, like she’s real. Then again, why would anyone want to try?

Up next in this blog series: Wild Magic (The Immortals), also by Tamora Pierce.

Indie Book Spotlight: Throne of Sand (Rookwood, Vince)

In today’s Indie Book Spotlight, we revisit Helena Rookwood, author of the excellent new adult fantasy/romantic fantasy The Prince and the Poisoner (see my review from March 2020 here), and are introduced to her friend and writing partner Elm Vince in:

Throne of Sand (Desert Nights Novels Book 1), by Helena Rookwood and Elm Vince (April 16, 2020; Teen/YA Historical Fantasy, Historical Romance, Asian Historical Fiction)

(Note: I received a free digital copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.)

Familiar, then unexpected.  Throne of Sand is a book that caught me by surprise—in a very good way.

Its basic premise is not so unusual, with a tenacious, un-ladylike for the times female lead.  It’s written in familiar, contemporary language (not my favorite for a story in an older era, but it ended up suiting the action well).  As a retelling of Aladdin, it’s a story we’re well acquainted with (comfortingly so), complete with cheeky little nods to the movie adaptation and callbacks to the original folktale (this djinni is in a ring). But this time, the hero is a heroine: Zadie, the princess who reads, writes, rides bareback and knows her way around a trade agreement.  In other words, she is not the princess her fiancé expects.

Especially because Sultan Kassim was engaged to her sister.

Zadie hides a very large secret, having helped her sister elope with a commoner she loved.  But the replacement princess is not all virtue and romantic ideals: Zadie wants her sister to be happy, but she also wants a chance to rule, something she’s prepared for and never had a chance at until now.  She’s not above a little manipulation, and her servants are not above caking her with makeup to make her the legendary beauty Kassim was promised.

This Aladdin retelling is fast, full of action and fun–and even the djinni gets a backstory.

After a very tense meeting with the sultan, Zadie travels to her future kingdom, where she spends her time ditching her servants and trying to prove she can be a sultanah who rules, rather than one who just looks pretty on her powerless throne.  She has to balance her kingdom’s need for the marriage to go through with getting what she wants.  The tightrope act soon gets irritating, both for Zadie and for this particular reader.

Fortunately, Zadie’s adventurous nature gets the better of her and the best parts of the story come on fast, full of action and fun. Even rude, tradition-obsessed Kassim, whose sole virtues were his title and muscles, starts to soften after a bit.  The wooden sultan becomes a real boy, and it turns out he isn’t half bad.

I wasn’t familiar with Elm Vince before this, but I knew from The Prince and the Poisoner that Helena Rookwood can write amazing and unique female characters (resilient ones, to be sure).  Like the royalty in The Prince and the Poisoner, nobody’s a hero or flat-out scoundrel in the courts of Throne of Sand.  The characters in this tale are also more dynamic.  We see them grow, show their true colors and correct their mistakes throughout the story, and Zadie turns out to be a great deal of fun as a main character.

She certainly knows how to find trouble, too.  Like Rookwood’s Lira, she never crumples in the face of it (unless, you know, it’s physically impossible not to.  Again, there’s a lot of great action in Throne of Sand).  Zadie has intelligence, diligence and toughness to commend her, and whenever she has a sheltered princess moment or two, she manages to redeem herself with her cleverness sometime after.

This is one of those books that I really looked forward to picking up again, only to remember I’d just finished it, which left me really disappointed that I couldn’t go back for more.  (Thank goodness the sequels are now out.)  Our princess may start out helpless and a little on the scheming side (and a lot on the naïve side), but beneath all that is true, three-dimensional character, and just the right traits for someone who hopes to rule.  For all my grumbling when I started reading, it becomes impossible not to root for her—and important that I must read what happens next.