Scan barcode
A review by thoughtsstained
Necrotech by K. C. Alexander
4.0
Originally reviewed at Thoughts Stained With Ink:
**Copy of Necrotech by K.C. Alexander graciously sent in exchange for an honest review by agent Lisa Rodgers of Jabberwocky Literary Agency**
And honestly, I think the best summation of this book is simply this: holy shit. What a whirlwind of emotions this book takes you through. Though I didn’t empathize with Riko–and gladly didn’t, because I can’t imagine surviving the hell she went through in my own life, nor being as much of a hard-earned badass that she is–I sympathized with her the entire time. The blows she was dealt, no one should have to endure. I was frustrated when she was frustrated, just wanting to know what was going on–but memory loss has a bad habit of making that near impossible. And then as the situation continued to deteriorate to the point of where I had no idea how Riko was staying sane, let alone surviving and continuing to push forward, my sympathy skyrocketed. And then the book ended and I just stared at my hands, wondering why the sequel didn’t magically appear within them. Isn’t that how books work?
(Hint: that’s not how they work. Dammit.)
(Second hint: notice how purposefully vague I’m being about what Riko is actually dealing with and what she actually goes through? Yeah, I’m giving away nothing. Go read it for yourself. You won’t regret it.)
Image result for necrotech
Since I’m not going to tell you anything about the plot or give away any truly juicy details, I will share the main aspect that of the book that I thought made it such an interesting read: Riko herself and her personality and how she juxtaposed to me. Which is to say, we are the exact opposite in practically every regard. Riko is a badass. I’m lame. Riko is sexually experienced and enjoys it. I’m a virgin and absolutely terrified to experience sex for the first time. Riko puts a sailor’s vulgarity to shame. I actually get slightly uncomfortable when a person’s vocabulary consists of using “fuck” as a noun, adjective and verb. Riko is dealing with the complete and totally ruining of the harsh life she’s built for herself within an even harsher world. I’m just a kid struggling to pay bills and chase writing dreams at the same time. Riko’s greatest strength is her toughness, her perseverance, her cold calculations. My biggest strength is my positivity. Riko is fit as hell. I’m will go to my grave attempting to run off all the second helping I eat. She has a metallic arm. I have a metallic screw that holds my elbow together.
We are both tatted, though, so there are similarities.
What I’m getting at, though, is usually, I enjoy a book so much because of how invested I get into the characters. And that investments stems from forming connections with those characters, usually through seeing pieces of myself within them. I don’t think I’ve ever read about a character like Riko, who was so totally and utterly different from me, yet still found myself drawn to her and invested in her story, in her life, even though I couldn’t connect with her in ways I usually hope to connect with characters. I still rooted for her, even though sometimes her mannerisms or choices made me uncomfortable or how negative her outlook could be made the positive soul in me feel both foolish and defensive. But the most amazing part that happened, after I closed the book and waited for the second book to suddenly appear, to no avail?
I still feel like I understood her.
And I think that is just really impressive.
Necrotech is a thrill ride. You got action, you got advanced tech, you got vibrant, fearless, reckless, intriguing characters (though I didn’t talk about him here, I really, really loved Indigo). Akin to Rob Thurman’s Cal Leandros series (one of my favorite series), this is a book you should be reading for both pure fun yet also so your emotions are pulled a little bit. Because it’s impossible not to both feel for Riko, yet at the same time, eagerly await whatever shit she has to go through next, if only so you can watch her kick ass one more time.
Read on!
**Copy of Necrotech by K.C. Alexander graciously sent in exchange for an honest review by agent Lisa Rodgers of Jabberwocky Literary Agency**
And honestly, I think the best summation of this book is simply this: holy shit. What a whirlwind of emotions this book takes you through. Though I didn’t empathize with Riko–and gladly didn’t, because I can’t imagine surviving the hell she went through in my own life, nor being as much of a hard-earned badass that she is–I sympathized with her the entire time. The blows she was dealt, no one should have to endure. I was frustrated when she was frustrated, just wanting to know what was going on–but memory loss has a bad habit of making that near impossible. And then as the situation continued to deteriorate to the point of where I had no idea how Riko was staying sane, let alone surviving and continuing to push forward, my sympathy skyrocketed. And then the book ended and I just stared at my hands, wondering why the sequel didn’t magically appear within them. Isn’t that how books work?
(Hint: that’s not how they work. Dammit.)
(Second hint: notice how purposefully vague I’m being about what Riko is actually dealing with and what she actually goes through? Yeah, I’m giving away nothing. Go read it for yourself. You won’t regret it.)
Image result for necrotech
Since I’m not going to tell you anything about the plot or give away any truly juicy details, I will share the main aspect that of the book that I thought made it such an interesting read: Riko herself and her personality and how she juxtaposed to me. Which is to say, we are the exact opposite in practically every regard. Riko is a badass. I’m lame. Riko is sexually experienced and enjoys it. I’m a virgin and absolutely terrified to experience sex for the first time. Riko puts a sailor’s vulgarity to shame. I actually get slightly uncomfortable when a person’s vocabulary consists of using “fuck” as a noun, adjective and verb. Riko is dealing with the complete and totally ruining of the harsh life she’s built for herself within an even harsher world. I’m just a kid struggling to pay bills and chase writing dreams at the same time. Riko’s greatest strength is her toughness, her perseverance, her cold calculations. My biggest strength is my positivity. Riko is fit as hell. I’m will go to my grave attempting to run off all the second helping I eat. She has a metallic arm. I have a metallic screw that holds my elbow together.
We are both tatted, though, so there are similarities.
What I’m getting at, though, is usually, I enjoy a book so much because of how invested I get into the characters. And that investments stems from forming connections with those characters, usually through seeing pieces of myself within them. I don’t think I’ve ever read about a character like Riko, who was so totally and utterly different from me, yet still found myself drawn to her and invested in her story, in her life, even though I couldn’t connect with her in ways I usually hope to connect with characters. I still rooted for her, even though sometimes her mannerisms or choices made me uncomfortable or how negative her outlook could be made the positive soul in me feel both foolish and defensive. But the most amazing part that happened, after I closed the book and waited for the second book to suddenly appear, to no avail?
I still feel like I understood her.
And I think that is just really impressive.
Necrotech is a thrill ride. You got action, you got advanced tech, you got vibrant, fearless, reckless, intriguing characters (though I didn’t talk about him here, I really, really loved Indigo). Akin to Rob Thurman’s Cal Leandros series (one of my favorite series), this is a book you should be reading for both pure fun yet also so your emotions are pulled a little bit. Because it’s impossible not to both feel for Riko, yet at the same time, eagerly await whatever shit she has to go through next, if only so you can watch her kick ass one more time.
Read on!