Review: The Road to Farringale (English)

May 4, 2021June 9, 2021

This week brings us another funny fantasy from an indie author. It’s time for…

The Road to Farringale (Modern Magick #1), by Charlotte E. English (quirky fantasy, 2017)

Author Charlotte E. English has a sense of humor—there’s no doubt about that. In this quirky and lovable tale of a secret, magical society trying to save magic in the U.K., trolls are the focal point.

Narrator Cordelia Vesper, aka Ves, is a fast-talking, cerulean-haired veteran of the Society for the Preservation and Protection of Magickal Heritage. As an agent of the Society, she is also a resident of the endearingly Hogwarts-like, sentient Yorkshire country manor known as House. With her new partner, Jay Patel, Ves is off on an unrelated errand when she discovers something is very wrong with a troll enclave.

The residents of South Moors Troll Enclave aren’t just “in Recluse,” as many communities are. The trolls living there have become apathetic in the extreme. Worse still, they’re about to eat a pair of endangered alikats, part of a class of creatures that more or less feed off of magical energy. It’s more than against the rules—it’s unthinkable.

The famous Cordelia Vesper

Narrator Ves is fast-talking, quirky and has a “vast knowledge of magickal history. Specialised knowledge of ancient spells, beasts and artefacts. No insignificant skill with charms” and “Great hair.”

As Jay and Ves visit more of the reclusive enclaves, a pattern emerges—including the complete disappearance of once-thriving communities of trolls.

The trolls of The Road to Farringale aren’t what you’re imagining (the Harry Potter similarities stop here). Though some trolls are more like those in fairy tales and “will eat anything,” most are educated, fastidious and elite gourmets, “Trolls whose delight in beauty, culture and the arts go virtually unrivaled across the world.”

One such troll is Baron Alban, the handsome and famously single representative of the troll court.

When Ves, a perfectly self-possessed (if directionally challenged) agent, meets him, she’s stunned. To Ves, Baron Alban is “the most gorgeous troll I have ever beheld, and I mean gorgeous in the sense of spectacularly handsome. All height and muscle and perfect posture was he, his bulky shoulders encased in a dark blue velvet coat over a silk shirt. He wore a kind of cravat, and an actual top hat lay on the table beside him.” Those kinds of trolls.

Despite his Jane Austen-era styling, Alban is a member of the modern troll court. The original was lost and is permanently sealed away, and is not a little reminiscent of Camelot. Alban, a noble-born George Clooney with a “pleasing jadeish hue,” has secret knowledge Ves needs in order to solve the mystery of the apparent illness destroying troll enclaves around Britain.

With her is the aforementioned Jay Patel, the overwhelmed newbie who, unlike Ves, can “find [his] way out of a bucket.” Recruited for his rare ability to travel point to point at dizzying (read: nauseating) speed, we know little about Jay other than that he is the frazzled foil to the self-assured Ves. He still manages to be lovable, in the way that only disheveled characters, who mirror the readers’ disbelief at every madcap turn in the story, can be.

That leads me to what’s missing from this charming story, which moves at the speed Ves talks. There are a host of amusing, interesting side-characters, who get almost equal backstory to the central characters.

I would’ve liked to learn more about Ves’s backstory, what drove her into the field besides her passion for saving magick and what her family and upbringing was like. I wanted to learn more about Jay, too and see him in the quiet moments when he isn’t slumped over beside an empty vat of hot chocolate—the Jay that exists outside of his job, and the Ves that existed before her all-consuming work. I hope future installments of the series cover this, because it’s a shame not to hear more about where these delightful characters come from.

Magical beasts aplenty

Griffons, Pegasus, trolls and a sentient country mansion round out The Road to Farringale’s enchanting and amusing take on a magical U.K.

It’s still a wonderful ride, dotted with enchanting magical creatures, a disembodied voice known only as Milady, who runs the Society, and little gems like this: “I don’t object to a little villainy, mind,” says Ves. “I only draw the line at a lot.”

In The Road to Farringale, even the magical creatures come in wacky packaging, when Ves produces enchanted syrinx pipes from…ahem…somewhere close to her heart. Questions Jay in his usual disbelief, “You just whistled a quartet of winged unicorns out of your bra?” (“Never underestimate the benefits of a good bra,” Ves quips in reply.)

If this sounds like your kind of book—or if you just need a pleasant, amusing diversion—by all means, pick up The Road to Farringale. Even if you aren’t totally satisfied with the time it devotes to its characters, you’re in for an enjoyable read.

To learn more about this author, visit charlotteeenglish.com.

Review: Thorn (Khanani)

April 11, 2021June 9, 2021

I’m here with another fairy tale telling this week, this time by an author in both the indie and traditionally published world, thanks to this very story.

Thorn (Dauntless Path #1), by Intisar Khanani (March 24, 2020; YA Fantasy, Fairytale Retelling)

“This is the life I’ve made for myself, and I want it in a way I haven’t wanted anything else I can remember. It is a wanting that is quiet, and steady, and deep as the beat of my heart.”

— Princess Alyrra in Thorn

The first time I read this book, it was an indie read from a purely indie author. Years later, Intisar Khanani’s retelling of the Goose Girl fairy tale is a traditionally published release that’s undergone some major changes.

Main character and narrator Alyrra is a princess, but not like you’d imagine. Downtrodden and the victim of years of abuse, she has been all but cast aside by her mother, the queen, and is the subject of vicious hate from her brother the heir. (The events that lead to this extreme situation are detailed in the Khanani’s recent release, Brambles.)

Outside of this, Alyrra lives a quiet life. She enjoys the wilderness around her home, has the respect of the servants and has occasional visits from the Wind. It all changes when she becomes the betrothed of Prince Kestrin, heir of the troubled royal family of Menaiya. And then it gets worse. When an old enemy from court, Valka—the lady once destined to marry Alyrra’s brother and become queen—returns to accompany Alyrra to her new kingdom, Valka uses the help of a vengeful sorceress to take Alyrra’s place—and her body.

A princess uncomfortable with power

“Still, should I run so far that I reach the sea, I should not have run far enough, for the thing I run from rides on my back and in my blood, and will not be shaken.”

– The magically disguised Princess Alyrra, after fighting back against goose boy Corbé in Thorn

Disgraced by Valka, Alyrra is relegated to the role of palace goose girl and, unable to stand being called Valka, becomes Thorn. There, she discovers a different life that has the quiet she always loved. For once, her fate is in her hands, and the weight of a kingdom’s expectations is off her shoulders. “This is the life I’ve made for myself,” Alyrra narrates, “and I want it in a way I haven’t wanted anything else I can remember. It is a wanting that is quiet, and steady, and deep as the beat of my heart.”

But Alyrra can’t quite escape her responsibilities, or what’s followed her from home: the cruelty of the women in her life and the violence of the men. Valka is using the court for her own means, and that of the sorceress; the goose boy Alyrra works with has bad intentions, and women and children in Menaiya are not safe on the streets.

It isn’t all dark. When Alyrra befriends a magical horse, Falada, she has her first true friend, and more are soon to follow. But Falada is never shy (yes, a horse pun) about reminding her that she owes it to Menaiya to stop Valka and take her true place.

In the middle of all of this is Kestrin, and interesting character and unusual prince. Alyrra is never quite sure what to think of this seemingly harsh, then thoughtful young man. As he begins to test her, Valka digs deeper for more cruelty, threatening Alyrra if she continues to meet with Kestrin.

Thorn makes for a grim fairy tale, full of the dark sides of humanity. But it’s also full of the joy of found family, and warms readers hearts when Alyrra finds safety and comfort. As she begins to come into her own, Alyrra becomes an advocate for empathy and humanity like no other.

It’s taken me a while to write this review of Thorn, though I read the new version months ago. I was disappointed with the early part of the book. It didn’t grab me the way that the original, indie version did. When I glanced back at the opening of indie Thorn, I realized what I was missing. Alyrra’s nervous energy kept the early chapters moving quickly and reflected her necessarily alert nature. Traditionally published Alyrra was downtrodden and had given up, and accordingly had a more lethargic pace to her narration. I felt like her personality had disappeared.

I was bothered by this, as you might imagine. I loved this story (I still love it, it just takes longer to be itself), and I felt like Alyrra’s personality was reduced to “resigned victim” at the beginning. In the later chapters, when Alyrra says, “In this moment I stand for all I am, and have been, and have known, every whisper of pain and memory and fear. I am all this, and I will stand strong and fight,” there is a bigger payoff, with more character growth and a larger character arc.

Beautiful books by Intisar

Khanani’s elegant writing shines in the new version of Thorn.

Still, I miss that frightened, engaged Alyrra, so alert and protecting herself at every moment like a rabbit in a forest full of wolves (which is actually a good description for her home). She had survivor’s instincts, and that same drive for self-preservation led her to step aside while Valka became princess, rather than just sit back. She was a downtrodden but active heroine who made an understandable, though unusual choice. Traditionally published Alyrra takes longer to find any rays of sunshine, let alone her power.

One benefit to the slower pace of the new Thorn is that it makes more room for Khanani’s wonderful prose to blossom. “I miss the crisp coldness of the forest winters I have known,” Alyrra muses in the narration. “I daydream of warm bread and mittens and the weight of snow on pine trees. The winter here is a different creature altogether, lying heavily over my shoulders and stealing into my bones.” All of my highlights from this book were of Khanani’s prose.

Thorn left me moved, joyful and heartbroken all at once. No matter how it’s changed, it’s a book worth savoring—plus there’s the added bonus of being introduced to Rae in The Bone Knife, a once stand-alone short story. I can’t wait to read The Theft of Sunlight, where the story follows Rae and just might cross paths with Alyrra.

Note: In addition to the Dauntless Path titles mentioned, the prequel to Alyrra’s story, Brambles, is also available.

Review: An Enchantment of Thorns (Rookwood & Vince)

March 27, 2021June 9, 2021

Today’s Indie Book Spotlight lands on a retelling of one of my very favorite tales…

An Enchantment of Thorns (A Court of Fairy Tales #1), by Helena Rookwood and Elm Vince (Romantic Fantasy/Fairy Tale Retelling, May 6, 2021)

Note: I received a free advanced review copy in exchange for an honest review.

Holy mackerel! I love this book.

In all seriousness, this retelling of Beauty and the Beast was everything I could have asked for. For one thing, the magic has been upgraded more than a few levels. The royals of An Enchantment of Thorns are not just people born into the ruling class, but long-limbed, terrifying and impossibly graceful fae who belong to multiple courts throughout the land. But there’s more than one kind of fae in this world, and it’s hard to say which is more dangerous.

Narrator Aster is most familiar with the fae of the Folkwood, which surrounds her home in Rosehill. The Folkwood is a dangerous place, full of wicked tricksters (the small folk) and deadly ones, like the puca who’s been stalking Aster since the day it took her mentor, Sage. There’s also the beast, a fae creature seen once a year at the Tithe (more on the that in a minute).

Haunted by Sage’s death and burdened with replacing her as Rosehill’s only greenwitch, heroine Aster lives her life bottled up, geographically and emotionally. She’s as comfortable in a fight, thanks to her father’s training, as she is nurturing both plants and humans, often doing both in the same day. But she’s not as empowered as she seems. When the local farmers ignore her orders, or when servants in her wealthy half-sister’s household murmur each time Aster visits, there’s nothing Aster can do but suck it up. As her butt-kicking older sister Laurel puts it, Aster isn’t exactly living a complete life.

Roses with thorns

The characters in An Enchantment of Thorns are complex and unique. To break the curse, Aster must drop her prejudices against fae; after 99 years of cursed life, Throne must learn to let go of his. But are the fae to be trusted?

“To Rosehill, you have to be the calm and collected greenwitch who keeps her head in emergencies,” Laurel says, “but I know you, Aster…I know how much you feel.” Those emotions will be the key to Aster’s future and developing her particular human craft. They’re also what lands her at the beast’s Cursed Court, via the annual Tithe.

Once a year, every girl of a certain age must step onto a pathway that forms in the Folkwood. One girl will be chosen, and never seen again; the rest return shaken and almost unable to describe the terrible and beautiful fae lord they’ve just seen. If the people of Rosehill try to resist the Tithe—if even one girl fails to appear—the Folkwood closes in on all the girls, and no one survives. Yet the girls presented at the Tithe are meant to look “pretty and innocent,” with a requisite crown of flowers in their hair. As Aster describes it, “this was not a day for beauty. This was a day for iron and steeled nerves.”

When Aster’s silly half-sister Ava and her friends read one too many fairy tales and want to be chosen, Aster, who is also of age for the Tithe, must intervene. No surprise—though she appears ragged and wearing thorns instead of pretty blooms—the beast picks Aster instead.

It’s hard not to picture the temperamental Disney beast at times, but this one, who goes by Thorne, is more beast after the curse is broken than before (albeit with a really good head of hair). His house is more woodland than palace. Thorne has servants, of course, but they are lesser fae, and include the adorable Mosswhistle, a brownie Aster lures into her service after a few days of torment by the little folk.

And they do torment her: invisible at first, they leave out a beautiful dress full of pins, snatch the heat from a steaming bath the moment she sets foot in it, and never grow tired of laughing at and mocking her. There’s no “be our guest,” sung or stated, in An Enchantment of Thorns.

Aster is an interesting character who makes a great vehicle for the reader; she falls in love slowly and unexpectedly enough that it never feels forced. What makes her interesting is never forced, either: Aster is a young woman with many responsibilities and very few choices. She’s found her calling with plants, but her days aren’t exactly her own.

Aster is young, and lacks the respect Sage had though she must do the same work. Even supportive big sister Laurel, a fighter working for their smuggler father, doesn’t realize just how much there is to Aster. “The Beast should beware if he chooses you at the Tithe this week, what with your arsenal of plants,” she quips. (But also note: at least half of my highlights in this book were Laurel’s lines.)

It’s wonderful to see Astrid gradually become empowered. Best of all, she becomes empowered before she’s swept away by her heart. In this retelling, it isn’t all about falling in love to break a curse.

Dark fairytales

The dullahan makes a chilling appearance in An Enchantment of Thorns, along with barghests and too many pixies, brownies and goblins to count.

There’s so much depth to Thorne’s “beast” character, too, from his sarcasm, goading and irritatingly (for Aster) indirect encouragement, to the despair driving his weather-changing bad moods. He’s neither beastly nor overly handsome, like in some romantic fantasies. Says Aster, “His wild beauty was like a knife to the gut.”

Interestingly, Thorne also takes on the role of mentor. Unlike the selfish beast most of us know from Disney, Throne never appears truly uncaring. He doesn’t appear at her door the first night to try to force her to dinner; he only expects it as a courtesy to a seriously down-on-his-luck Court Fae, and because the other Tithe girls always managed it. He doesn’t forbid her food if she doesn’t eat with him, either. Moody, complicated, humane and ultimately lovable, he’s a beast any smart gal could fall in love with.

Fans of dark fantasy will feel at home reading An Enchantment of Thorns, thanks to the nightmarish curse and the monstrous fae in the Folkwood; there are some truly chilling settings and scenes thanks to both. Fantastical ones, too. But romantics will also love it. And if you’re like me, you will deeply regret not having the next book to read immediately after finishing it.

An Enchantment of Thorns is currently available for pre-order, and will be released on May 6, 2021. To learn more about these indie authors, visit their websites at helenarookwood.com and elmvince.com.

Indie Book Spotlight: Twelve Days of Faery (Gingell)

March 20, 2021June 9, 2021

Another Indie Book Spotlight is upon us!

Twelve Days of Faery (Shards of a Broken Sword #1), by W.R. Gingell (Fantasy, 2018)

Who knew a king being overwhelmed with paperwork would be so endearing?

On the surface, Twelve Days of Faery is the story of a beleaguered king caught up in the dangerous realm of Faery when a peculiar enchantress arrives, claiming she can break the curse on King Markon’s son. Thanks to this said and so-called curse, a woman cannot even wink at the young prince without something terrible befalling her. And the one whose hair vanished got off easy; the outcomes are only getting worse.

This means Markon has two problems: Althea’s contract says she’ll eventually be made queen if she can stop the attacks, and Markon is steadily falling in love with her even as she grows closer to his son.

Twelve Days of Faery can be violent (but not excessively, in my opinion), and there’s no shortage of wicked, scheming characters. But thanks to off-beat enchantress Althea and procrastinating-on-royal-paperwork Markon, it’s a complete delight. A quirky one, too!

Quotable Quirk

“There’s a world of meaning in the almost-saids of the worlds.” – W.R. Gingell, Twelve Days of Faery

The wonderful characters are what makes the book, and the procedural-style structure also kept me binge-reading. Each day in the story is a day in Althea’s investigation. It doesn’t hurt that Markon is actually likeable, either. It’s hard not to root for him, and he’s just plain refreshing after the scheming royals in, well, almost everything.

As for Althea, she’s a bit like the character Luck in another book by Gingell, Spindle [find my review here], but is more self-possessed, less dotty and more aloof. While Luck (who has the same magical talents as Althea) practically makes a catchphrase out of the word “huh,” Althea’s catchphrase should be “I found something.” She’s Sherlock to Markon’s overwhelmed Watson.

Althea is also a faery-changeling who grew up and was able to escape the faery world. That is one interesting backstory.

The romance in Twelve Days of Faery is approached from a refreshingly mature angle, too. Markon is older, dignified and sensible. He approaches his growing feelings for Althea just how a person with those traits would, even though he’s sure things aren’t about to go his way.

Though the world of Faery settings (Seelie and Unseelie) were creative, the descriptions were a bit loosely sketched at times. Still, it was fun, zany and scary all at once as Markon marched into unfamiliar territory, following the magical clues toward the culprit.

This short book is well-thought out, creative and 100% enjoyable. I plan to pick up the sequel as soon as my lengthy TBR list allows, because it’s the perfect pick-me-up (wordplay alert! Don’t worry, the humor in Twelve Days of Faery is a lot more sophisticated than that—and not a small amount quirky). Funny, refreshing and great characters (plus a sizeable dash of mystery) will always equal five stars for me. If you like those things, faery, and portals into another world, you’ll love this book, too.

To learn more about titles from this author, visit W.R. Gingell’s website.

Review: Gods of Jade and Shadow (Moreno-Garcia)

March 13, 2021June 9, 2021

Gods of Jade and Shadow, by Silvia Moreno-Garcia (Fantasy; 2019)

Go on. Get your heart broken by this book. I dare you.

After finding the Mayan God of Death locked in her grandfather’s room, Casiopeia Tun embarks on a modern-ish (a hundred years ago) Odyssey-style quest to return Hun-Kame to power and thwart his usurping twin. Sounds like a romance, right?

Just wait.

Casiopea is not a willing participant in her adventure—although it’s fair to say she’s a dazed one. Trapped in a life of servitude to her harsh uncle and tyrannical (somewhat one-dimensional) cousin, she has dreams of driving a car, swimming in the sea and dancing like in the movies. Nowhere do her dreams include having the life slowly sucked out of her by Hun-Kame. And that’s exactly what will happen until she can help the deposed god reclaim the rest of his body.

Then again, life at home as a servant wasn’t that great, either. Family issues aside, her home region is also extremely religious. Now that she’s been seen leaving it with a man, her reputation is ruined. For Casiopeia, there can be no going home.

Fantasy without borders
Readers eager to read fantasy in non-european settings will be thrilled to delve into this Mexican mythology-based Adventure

With the promise of repayment and the whole thing just being over, Casiopeia bears it stoically even as Hun-Kame asks more and more of her (and her reputation is continually ruined). She flirts, she gets a flapper bob, she slides in amongst revelers in cities she only dreamed of seeing. It’s a wild ride, and she comes fairly close to taking it in stride even as a whole slew of mythological figures and creatures cross her path. Sometimes, though, it’s just too much. As strong as Casiopeia is, she has a vulnerable side and occasionally has to cry—as most of us would after meeting hungry ghosts.

Casiopeia is a dreamer, and though she always wanted more from life, what she really wants isn’t so unreasonable. All she’s ever hope for is to have control of her own fate. Though she’s finally away from home, her unwitting bargain with Hun-Kame means she has to face just how little control she has.

To put another wrench in the works, as Casiopeia begins to come into her own as a young woman, Hun-Kame becomes increasingly human. A theme of the hopefulness of the young—and a youthful romance—begins to take shape.

There isn’t much dawdling in the book, but I did feel as though I’d been on a long journey by the time it was through. For all its somewhat glib adventures, it’s an emotional story, and readers run the gamut alongside its young protagonist. The crisp prose and historical tidbits about each location on Casiopeia’s odyssey also added flavor. I very much enjoyed the writing, and often read the lightly snarky chapter openings aloud to family members, who were mostly willing. But as the story goes on, it becomes more character-driven, particularly as the end of the quest creeps into sight.

Of all the characters in the story, though, it’s Casiopeia and Loray, a demon she encounters, who feel the most real, which is perhaps why they find their way back to each other: they’re the only two who have the depth of character to continue on after so much change and loss. Casiopeia starts out young and hopeful; Loray, a little too wise about the ways of the world and literally trapped. For all Casiopeia stands to gain from her quest, she loses a lot, too—including her hope. It leaves the reader with the same sort of stunned emptiness Casiopeia feels at the end.

After going through so much with her, I wish there had been more to the ending than watching Casiopeia drive out of sight—even if she does seem to be in good company. For all he knows about human kind and the underworld, Loray is still full of a zest for life (and exploration), even if it’s all about simple pleasures. He also proves to be particularly kind.

Want more Mayan Mythology?

The Popol Vuh is filled with foundation myths and can be read for free on google.

The climax of the Gods of Jade and Shadow is heartbreaking, beautiful, and in all, makes it a gorgeous novel with a slightly abrupt ending that will still leave you thinking about it long after—and hurting for its characters. I did wish for a lot more out of the wrap-up section of the book, but was left with a lasting emotional impact from it, a sort of raw open ending that its main character is left with.

Then again, maybe that’s just a sign of good writing and a loveable character. It’s true that, just like Hun-Kame, I would’ve like to stay with Casiopeia a little longer.

To learn more about other titles by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, visit her blog.

Review: Children of Blood and Bone (Adeyemi)

February 27, 2021June 9, 2021

Catching up on some reviews today as I finally add Children of Virtue and Vengeance to my very long TBR list. Which can only mean today’s review is of…!

Children of Blood and Bone (Legacy of Orïsha #1), by Tomi Adeyemi (2018; YA Fantasy)

This is a new YA classic, with an inventive fantasy world and a real-world social message.

Children of Blood and Bone is rooted in the culture and religion of the Yoruba people, and it’s beautiful. Adeyemi drops the readers into a compelling fantasy world we’ve all been waiting for, even if we didn’t know it yet. Giant animals to ride on, a stunning pantheon of gods and goddesses, coming-of-age, bigotry (external and internalized), duty, injustice, selflessness and young love are woven into this magical story.

The world of Children of Blood and Bone is cruel to some. Even a girl as strong-willed as Zélie is driven out of her village by bloodshed and tragedy; at the same time, Amari, a princess with about zero self-confidence, makes her way out of the palace, while her heir-to-the-throne brother Inan joins the ranks of the very people responsible for what happens to Zélie’s village (one could say he’s a zealot, or naïve, or both). A collision course is in order.

Zélie is beset by grief and hopelessness at times, which adds to the depth of her story and her own drive. As a Diviner, she is connected to the goddess of death, and holds on just when her faith is about to desert her. She beats impossible odds, but not without strife and cost to herself.

Legend of Zélie: Zélie’s story is the most moving and most riveting of the perspectives. This determined heroine goes from grief and hopelessness to hope, love and sacrifice during her journey.

My only complaint was that I wanted to stay with Zélie and her companions rather than see what other characters were doing (which is really a testament to how much more exciting Zélie’s story is). It also means I kept reading to get back to her. There were scenes in which Zélie’s awe transmitted perfectly, like when she sees an image of the goddess of death, which gave me actual goosebumps. Adeyemi has a real talent for transferring her characters emotions from page to reader.

In short, I shed tears. I stayed up way too late reading. There was a touch of romance and a big helping of heartbreak. This was a true “experience” novel, and it was gorgeous. It’s also a prime example of the right way to *ahem* kill off a character.

The feeling I had reading this book has stayed with me long after the details began to blur (and admittedly they have blurred a bit). But for me, the best books will always be the ones that make you remember the feeling of reading them, if not all the names and details. Fans of Garth Nix’s Abhorsen/The Old Kingdom series and Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s Gods of Jade and Shadow are likely to enjoy it as much as I did.

So while this book was probably checked off your own TBR list long ago, I won’t risk somebody out there missing it. Read Children of Blood and Bone if you still haven’t! You won’t be sorry.

Note: Book 2 in the Legacy of Orïsha series, Children of Virtue and Vengeance, was released in 2019; as of posting, there was no release date or title listed on Goodreads for #3.

Indie Book Spotlight: Tapestry of Night (Vince)

February 20, 2021February 19, 2021

In a world where only one late-bloomer can save her people from a terrible fate, the time has come…for another Indie Book Spotlight!

Tapestry of Night (Star Cast Series #1), by Elm Vince (2020; Romantic Fantasy)

The opening chapter of Elm Vince’s Tapestry of Night shows us that fate can be written in the stars—if those stars are charted properly. Thanks to the Stellar Sisters of Celestial Devotion, Cassia is an expert of making natal star charts, and she has an “uncanny intuition” to go with it.

Eventually, Cassia entrusts the reader with the exciting secret that she has the most unusual—and difficult to understand—prophesied fate of anyone. For a magically late-bloomer with no shortage of problems, there seem to be a lot of important roles heading Cassia’s way. Too many, in fact, to be solved in one book.

Which is why I need the next book.

This is Elm Vince’s debut solo series (Vince co-authored the Desert Nights series with Helena Rookwood). Teasers aside, Tapestry of Night really hit all the right notes for me. The tone isn’t overly dark and depressing, the truly bad guys are creepy, the love interests are unlikely and there’s a truly loveable alchemist to boot. The spy plotline is put to very good use. It reminds me of Brandon Sanderson’s The Final Empire (Mistborn series). Fans of Garth Nix’s Abhorsen series will probably love it, too.

There are a lot of details in the opening chapters about monstrous snatchers, mysterious nuns in astrology-themed convents, and a few types of magic. The backstory and said details are never piled on, but carefully set the stage for a riveting story in which the stars are nearly omnipresent. Tapestry of Night is literally and figuratively dark from the beginning, with warm characters and fanciful magic to light the way.

As the nature of the Governance is gradually explained to the reader, things get a whole lot darker. It’s illegal to be a mage in Myrsia, and those with a talent are taken by snatchers to become Governance slaves. They’re also fitted with alloy collars to restrict their magic. In the Governance’s eyes, magic is too dangerous, and the alloy makes it safe (but cruelly useable).

Unlikely spy: struggling to control new magic, Cassia must sneak away to “a quiet shadow in a city of light” in order to study with endearing alchemist Ptolemus.

And then there’s the Defiance. Hidden away in the Rust Desert, the Defiance is the last vestiges of the now-eradicated Guild’s magic-users, but signs of former glory exist in the capital, too. The glasshouses Cassia uses as a rendezvous point was once “created and tended to by the Guild’s earth-signers, housing exotic greenery from across Myrsia and beyond. Now they sit abandoned, the plants slowly trying to reclaim the building.” There’s a lot of horror and decay behind the capital’s pretty veneer.

Myrsia’s Governance is reliably crooked and pitiless (without any flat villains, just some blind ambition). But the Defiance may not be all they’re cracked up to be, either: after all, they kicked Cassia out as a girl, right after her father died on a mission, because she had no magic.

All that changes as Cassia wanders into adulthood. She has an empath’s gifts, but they refuse to work in the usual way. She can feel what others feel, not just sense it. And it’s pretty out of control besides.

Depending on whether she can learn to control her gift, Cassia just might be the Defiance’s perfect spy. But she has zero time to master it. With the life of a friend on the line, Cassia is about to head off to the capital with a fake identity, where she witnesses constant reminders of how important—and dangerous—her task is.

Eventually, as a side note, we hear there are fey out there somewhere, closed off in their own country across the sea. And for an unknown reason, the leader of the Governance is out there visiting them. This series has a whole lot of space to grow, with some interesting plot points set up for the next book.

The settings of Tapestry of Night are just as interesting, from a red desert to the peculiar convents to the inner bureaucratic chambers of the Governance. The Governance is sort of like evil Hogwarts at times, complete with its own wizarding ball.

On a copy editing note, the excess of commas can be looked past after a bit, so don’t let that stop you. This is a great take on magical “job classes” and a good late-bloomer story, too. Not to mention the spy-craft! I’ll be continuing with the series for sure.

The Bests and Mosts 2020: awards

February 13, 2021February 12, 2021

Today, I want to recognize my favorite fantasy reads of 2020 (and encourage you to discover one of them yourself!). And I’ll be accomplishing that with these 11 awards show-style categories!

In order to “win” (no prize other than my great esteem and respect), books must have been reviewed by me on the blog, Goodreads or Bookbub during the long happening that was 2020.

Without further ado, the award goes to…

Best Female Lead

Lira, The Prince and the Poisoner (Carnival of Fae #1), by Helena Rookwood. I love this sassy, self-serving yet likeable character, who lies, cheats and steals her way into readers hearts in The Prince and the Poisoner and its sequel, The Thief and the Throne. [My Review.]

Best Male Lead

Numair, Tempests and Slaughter (The Numair Chronicles #1), by Tamora Pierce. Like a sensible Harry Potter, the much loved character of Numair from Pierce’s The Immortals trilogy grows up in a school surrounded by a river god, a leftover prince and no shortage of intrigue. Numair does all the normal adolescent boy things, even as he does the extraordinary. [Review available on Bookbub; coming soon to website.]

Best Storytelling

Alanna: The First Adventure (Song of the Lioness #1), by Tamora Pierce. There’s nothing like the story of a young girl better at swordplay than sorcery, who trades places with her twin and seeks to become a knight. Not only does Alanna make room for a different kind of girl in YA fantasy, but it’s absorbing from page one. Now and always, a classic. [My review.]

Best Plot Twist

Conjure Women, by Afia Atakora. “Twist” needs to be plural for this story, which probably fits best under the category of magical realism. Betrayals, terrible truths, and a vengeful lie sit at the heart of this book like jagged wire. The truth about Bean, a black-eyed child born with what might as well be a curse, is only one revelation in the story of a Black community during enslavement and after, and the midwife-plus-medicine-maker Rue who tries to keep it—and a few of the lies—from falling apart. [Review available on Bookbub; coming soon to website.]

Most Magical

The Prince and the Poisoner (Carnival of Fae #1), by Helena Rookwood. It’s hard to beat the fabulous magic carnival Lira runs away to (with a catch) in the first book in the series. (Sigh. Why doesn’t anything like it exist?) Add in magical objects left by the fae, and you can almost smell the burnt caramel. [My Review.]

Most Original

Sting Magic (Empire of War and Wings #1), by Sarah K.L. Wilson. The concept of familiars for magic-users gets new life in a world where something is very wrong in the forest, and most pressingly, with protagonist *’s magic. When magic-users manifest, it’s supposed to be with an egg (soon be followed by a bird). But *’s angry magic is a pack of swarming bees (and sometimes a hopeful little golden bumble bee that just sounds cute). The magic system was fantastic. [My Review.]

Most Action-Packed

Daughter of Shades (The Venatrix Chronicles), by Silvia Mercedes. Young Ayeleth finds more than her fair share of trouble as she tries to become a full-fledged Venetrix. After a certain point in the book (about a third of the way in, I’d say), the action hardly ever pauses, and things get a whole lot spookier. [My Review.]

Most Romantic

Snowblind (Pler Trilogy #1), by Anna Velfman. A wonderful romance between two young people occurs in the first half of the book that is somehow wholesome and nostalgic without being chaste. Icedancer is now on my Kindle but still on my TBR list, but something tells me there’s more to come, both with Lanna’s original love and a potential new (and much less romantic) suitor. I don’t think we’ve heard the last of the cute farm boy! [My Review.]

Most Heartbreaking

A Song Below Water (A Song Below Water #1), by Bethany C. Morrow. A story of injustice, found family and lost ones, A Song Below Water doesn’t just share the two narrators’ feelings with the reader, it allows them to connect to them through universal truths: the need for family, true friendship, love, acceptance, and justice. And there’s one other essential right tying those needs together for Tavia and Effie: in a world where some magical beings are reviled and even killed, the friends-turned-sisters both seek the space not just to speak and be heard, but to be. [My Review.]

Most Satisfying

Spindle (Two Monarchies Sequence #1), by W.R. Gingell. This delightful, quirky and often outright funny book introduces Gingell’s special brand of enchanter/enchantresses. I can’t spoil anything, so I’ll just have to say that the ending feels just right. [My Review.]

Most Likely to be Read Twice

The Purple Haze, by Andrew Einspruch. This hilarious book has so many jokes and just-the-right-level-of-bad puns, I could hardly take them all in. Silly and endearing, the story of germophobe Princess Eloise and her quest to find her sister is the perfect read when in need of a pick-me-up. [My Review.]

That’s it for 2020. Congratulations to all the winners!

Want more content, including a free serial story? Sign up for the newsletter today!

Review of The Year of the Witching (Henderson)

February 6, 2021March 6, 2021

The Year of the Witching (Bethel Series, 2020; HORROR, DARK FANTASY), by Alexis Hendersen

Immanuelle isn’t like other girls in her puritanical and cult-like society of Bethel. For one thing, her mother emerged from the forbidden woods, where witches live, to give birth to her. The Prophet she tried to escape from is the very same one who reigns over Immanuelle, and her path is about to cross with his in the worst of ways.

The plot is kicked off by an ill-fated and long journey to the market, in which a runaway goat and the supernatural pull of the woods changes Immanuelle’s life forever. And it isn’t only that. Something is driving Immanuelle to go back to a heretical place full of dangerous magic and unseen forces. Despite everything she knows, she almost can’t resist. The mother she never knew lived there for months, after all—something that should have been impossible.

Witches aside, all is not well in Immanuelle’s tiny world of Bethel. The Prophet’s Haven is just about as frightening as the woods, if not more. Add an unlikely (and very dangerous) romance, plus the watchful (often leering) eye of the Prophet and there is a whole lot of trouble brewing—most of it centered on women.

Loose Ends: This beautifully descriptive debut novel doesn’t wrap up tidily. A second book in the Bethel series is due in 2021.

The Year of the Witching has plenty of creepy details and no shortage of descriptive words for blood. There are plagues, wicked prophets and undead witches, including one with a skull with antlers replacing the head she lost. It’s a fine mix of dark fantasy and horror. But there is an undercurrent of real-life social issues beneath it, and a strong theme of exploitation of young women (and the not as young).

Then there’s the descriptive writing, which was beautiful and often both chilling and perfect. I loved diving into Immanuelle’s tightly bound world.

Something was missing for me, though: the wrap-up after the climax. It left me wanting more, especially after days of page-turning, fabulous storytelling. It seemed to be setting up for a sequel. I closed the book with no idea of what happened to some of the characters, which was frustrating.

A sequel will arrive in 2021, however: The Dawn of the Coven. As of posting, there are scant details about it, so I can’t say whether it will continue Immanuelle’s story. Whatever it is, though, I will be eagerly waiting to read it. Henderson’s wonderful writing is just too good to be missed.

Want more content? Sign up for the newsletter today!

YA books that changed the game #4: Wild Magic (Pierce)

December 5, 2020March 6, 2021

The series on classic (pre-Harry Potter) YA books continues with another book by Tamora Pierce.

Wild Magic, by Tamora Pierce (Immortals Book One; YA Fantasy, 1992

Sometimes you don’t need a superhero. Sometimes you just need a Daine.

Thirteen-year-old Daine is missing a lot in her life: her family, a home, the identity of her father, the reason she can interact with animals almost like she’s one of them…She’s a puzzle, including to herself. She also has a self-esteem level in the negative digits and needs to make her way on her own.

Fortunately, a job bringing horses to Tortall sends her on a far better path.

Wild Magic is full of scarier creatures, higher stakes and more warm and fuzzy feelings than Alanna: The First Adventure, the first book of Tamora Pierce’s previous series. In many ways, it’s Alanna‘s exact opposite.

Alanna comes from a noble family; Daine comes from the middle of nowhere. Alanna can read; Daine can’t. The list goes on, but in essence, Alanna is an empowered young person chasing her dreams by bucking gender roles. Daine doesn’t know who she is, what she needs, or the first clue how to get it. She’s a girl alone in the world. But she’s also very, very special.

Diamond in the rough: Daine has extraordinary abilities, no faith in herself and little self-worth. The adventures get more serious–and more magical–as the series continues.

In all honesty, I didn’t get as much out of a grown-up re-read of Wild Magic as I did Alanna. I was struck and almost annoyed by how very little self-esteem Daine had, and how she continually was shocked by kindness and the differences in Tortall’s culture from that of her homeland. She can’t believe someone lets her have a book. That wide-eyed, What? For me? But I’m just a peasant girl! bit gets trying after a while. But fantasy is full of female characters who, at best, only act like they have low self-esteem. Poor Daine is the real deal.

Daine has amazing powers of her own, to be sure, but she’s no powerful sorcerer like her new teacher Numair. She lacks training, strength and reliability compared to the lovely, chummy cast of characters from the Song of the Lioness series, plus Numair.

This means Daine is never reduced to her abilities. Many “nice” young female characters have their personalities defined by what they can do for others: become a hero in a battle, lead a movement, learn the conniving ways of the people in power and beat them at their own game. Daine is defined by her powerlessness, by the way she lacks control and can hurt others.

She’s the ultimate underdog.

When I first read this as a teen, I was doing all the normal teen things, like negotiating my self-worth on a daily basis and figuring out myself and the world. Every other book had a girl empowered in some way. Sure, Daine has great abilities, but she doesn’t want them. They’re double-edged swords. She’ll use them to round up animals (also awesome), but she’s rightly terrified of hurting others, including her animal friends. Daine is trying to figure out how to be a good person and survive, and in the process almost diminishes herself into nothing.

If there’s a lesson to Wild Magic, it’s that even the meekest, most frightened of us are deserving of love. There are so many young people (and adults!) out there who need that message, and it’s why Wild Magic is still one of the best.