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: 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.

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!

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

November 28, 2020November 27, 2020

The Thief and the Throne (Carnival of Fae Book Two), by Helena Rookwood (New Adult Fantasy, Romantic Fantasy; 2020)

For my review of the first book in this series, click here.

{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.

Want more book recommendations, news and free content? Sign up for my newsletter here.

Indie Book Spotlight: Sting Magic (Wilson)

September 30, 2020September 30, 2020

It’s time for another Indie Book Spotlight!

Sting Magic, by Sarah K.L. Wilson (Empire of War and Wings, September 2020; YA Dark Fantasy)

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.

For more book recommendations, news and free content, sign up for C.K. Beggan’s newsletter.

Indie Book Spotlight: Snowblind (Velfman)

August 22, 2020August 22, 2020

Snowblind, by Anna Velfman (Pler Trilogy Book One; June 2020, Fantasy)

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)

July 22, 2020August 22, 2020

It’s time for another…

Daughter of Shades, by Sylvia Mercedes (The Venatrix Chronicles Book One, 2019, YA Fantasy)

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)

June 26, 2020February 13, 2021

Today we slap a well-deserved gold star on…

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.