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Bizarre Frontier Omnibus #1: Books 1-3 by Brock Poulsen

adventurous lighthearted mysterious tense fast-paced

3.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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I hate dying. It usually hurts something awful and ruins my whole day. I avoid it whenever possible.

 
What’s Bizarre Frontier About?
This is a collection of the first three novellas in Poulsen’s Bizarre Frontier series. This series focuses on the adventures of the former Deputy Marshall, Willard Beckett. He didn’t always wear a “white hat,” back in his black hat days, he was cursed by a dying Romani woman. He can’t stay dead. He can die, he can go through all the pain and suffering before death—but he shakes it off after a little while.

As curses go, it’s not the worst, actually.

On Moths
In the first novella, we meet Beckett and learn about his, um, condition.

As any “retired” protagonist in a Western starts, Beckett is living alone, away from everyone else, self-medicating and merely existing. His wife divorced him, he lost the taste for the work (or so I assume, I don’t remember it being spelled out), and really doesn’t have much purpose in life. Until, of course, his old boss comes for help. It seems some brothers that he ran with are causing problems in a local mining town and they can’t be stopped.

The funny thing about that situation, those brothers were killed by the aforementioned Romani woman.

Hanged Man’s Boots
After finding out how those brothers got in the position where they could terrorize the town, Beckett and his ex-wife, Sue, learn that the man behind it all is cutting a swath of destruction behind him as he tries to escape justice. Can the pair stop him?

Husk
The big hook to this one comes from Willard not doing something I’d assumed he took care of in between novellas. And the fact that he didn’t made me roll my eyes pretty hard. Yes, he justified his lack of action to someone later in the novella—and it’s plausible, but I still don’t buy it. Still, without his being careless, we wouldn’t have gotten this story.

It begins with Willard going off to take care of the repercussions of his carelessness and Sue having to go rescue some of her sister’s sheep following a storm and her brother-in-law coming into close contact with a monster (or so he claims and not enough people believe).

Craziness and action ensue. And while the last novella brought the pair into contact with evil made stronger by the supernatural, this one brings them into some supernatural mayhem. It’s hard to argue which is worse

The Strangest Bit
For me, the thing that was stranger than Willard’s curse—or anything else he ran into—was the way he (and everyone else) called the woman who cursed him (and her family) Romani instead of that term that I grew up hearing. I’m not complaining about it—if I’m buying a Deputy Marshall who can’t stay dead for long, I can buy a degree of cultural sensitivity that is just as out of place.

It just took me a second to accept it. But honestly, I like the fact Poulsen made that choice, he didn’t need to.

So, what did I think about Bizarre Frontier?
These stories are light on the Western and heavier on the Urban Fantasy—which is fine with me, if you forgive the anachronistic nature of that. They’re Western enough to qualify, but by a hair—they remind me of the Bodacious Creed Zombie-Steampunk-Westerns in this way. (and actually fans of one of these series, should check the other out)
 
I wouldn’t mind a little more depth to each of these, but I don’t think they need much more. They work really well for what they are—quick, episodic, adventures with just enough of a tie between them to keep readers coming back (if you get them individually) or to carry you through the omnibus (if you go that way).
 
There’s a lightness to the prose that keeps it engaging and fun even in the midst of monsters, death, and mayhem. The action is smooth, the recurring characters are fun and I can see hanging out with Willard and Sue for quite a while to come. I’d like to see them deal with something that has no contact with anything they’ve encoutered yet—but if Poulsen keeps going down this path, I’m not going to complain.
 
I will be back for more as soon as I get a chance. It’d be nice if there was a second omnibus (I mention in case Poulsen reads this), but it looks like I’ll be picking up the novellas at my earliest convenience. I’d recommend you trying these yourself.
 

Heart of Fire by Raina Nightingale

adventurous emotional medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Heart of Fire About? 

I can’t quite talk about the story of the book without saying something I shouldn’t, so, I’ll let Nightingale describe it: 

Camilla has always been told that humans are inferior. They cannot use magic. If they bond to dragons, they will doom the creatures to extinction. She has never believed a word of it. She has always known that she can use magic, and she suspects it is the elves who harm the dragons by keeping them to themselves. Now, she is presented with the opportunity of a lifetime: a dragon’s clutch is hatching and while she will earn the wrath of her captors if she is caught, she has the chance to see a dragon hatch and perhaps even to Recognize.
Kario’s people have feared dragons since time immemorial. When an unrealistically huge black dragon flies in while she is hunting, she is certain she will die. Instead, her life is changed when Nelexi, Obsidian Guardian of Areaer, chooses her as her final rider. Kario takes the name Flameheart, but she is soon homesick and afraid that she is insufficient to be the partner of a god.

 
The Good

First off, the dragons are cool. You give me cool dragons and I’m going to let you get away with a lot.

I think this world is fantastic. I love the relationships between dragons and riders—the bonds between them, and how they communicate with one another. I like a lot of the suggested ways that dragons and riders change and evolve over time.

I think the geo-political and racial relationships are intriguing—and how people on different continents relate to dragons (and many other creatures, likely). The elven-human dynamic is something I really want to see developed.

I think Kario is a fascinating character and I relished the bits of time we got with her and Nelexi—I wanted more.

The Bad
I don’t think that Nightingale brought everything in her mind onto the page. She clearly has a lot of this world worked out in details that there’s no way to communicate. Every author has those—that’s not what I’m talking about. But in the Preface, she talks about having two of the characters in her mind since childhood—she knows them well, she understands their story in a way that many authors would likely envy. But—this is just a guess—I think she knows the story so well that I don’t think she realized she didn’t give her readers all the details we needed to follow.

I stopped writing things like “so, I missed something?” or “how did we get here?” after a bit. I just couldn’t follow good chunks of both storylines—but Camillla’s more than Kario’s.

Although—and this gets us on to the other “Bad” topic—I’m okay with not following Camilla’s because I just couldn’t like her. She was petulant, self-centered, egotistical, and short-sighted. All these are things that can be grown out of, and I’m not suggesting protagonists have to be likable. But I didn’t want to spend time in her head—it’s just a nasty place. Her dragon, Radiance, was fine. Her brother seemed okay—as did the other dragon rider with them (I’m going to leave names out because it feels like something you need to learn as you read)—although there’s room for some personal growth there, although I think that character has made the right kind of strides on that front so you can root for them.

But Camilla? I really hope in the next book in the series, she’s grown up a lot.

So, what did I think about Heart of Fire?
Nightingale swung for the fences with this one, you can practically see the effort on the page as you read. But I think she missed too many of the pitches she took, and foul-tipped pretty frequently when she made contact. But she got on-base enough to stay in the game, and even to chalk up a win. That’s the end of the baseball metaphors, I promise.
 
There’s so much promise in this book—and enough delivery on them to come back for the second volume. But not enough to be enthusiastic about it. I do want to know what happens, and I think most who read this will share in that.
 
Also, cool dragons. Can’t overlook that.
 
The parts of the book that worked—worked pretty well, and made me want to keep going. Still, I can only give this the most lukewarm of recommendations—I know I’m in the minority when it comes to this book—go read what others had to say about it.
 

The Bang-Bang Sisters by Rio Youers

adventurous challenging dark emotional tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

5.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s The Bang-Bang Sisters About? 

I’m not even going to try to pretend to be able to summarize this, so I’m going to copy and paste the official description: 

Meet the Bang-Bang Sisters: Brea, Jessie, and Flo. Together, they’re a kick-ass rock band with an unbreakable bond.

But that’s only half the story. Offstage, they’re highly skilled vigilantes, traveling the country in their beaten-up tour van to exact justice on criminals who have slipped through the system. Part rock stars, part assassins, they’re a force to be reckoned with.

Drawn by a tantalizing lead, the sisters head to Reedsville, Alabama—a city crawling with destitution and corruption—where they close in on a notorious serial killer known as “the wren.” But they soon discover that they have walked straight into a trap set by Chance Kotter, a ruthless mobster with a personal vendetta.

Bruised and beaten, the sisters find themselves at the mercy of Chance and a sadistic game of survival that will pit them against each other: Forty-eight hours. One city. Three sisters. Only one of them can survive.

Full of gripping action and shocking twists that come at a breakneck pace, The Bang-Bang Sisters is a relentless, edge-of-your-seat thrill ride that will leave you breathless.

 
What did I think about The Bang-Bang Sisters?
I’m afraid if I spend my usual amount of time talking about this (or trying to come up with something coherent to say), I’m going to put it off for too long, and maybe overexplain. So let’s just go with this:

It captures the spirit of music and live performance (and inter-band dynamics) as…well, any rock novel I can think of.

You have a serial killer equal to Francis Dolarhyde.

You’ve got a violent, kill-or-be-killed, “game” as nasty as The Hunger Games, without the love triangle.*

You’ve got a violent, kill-or-be-killed, “game” as nasty and detailed as Chain-Gang All-Stars without the redeeming social commentary.

You’ve got a rich Southern guy as fat as Boss Hogg, as corrupt as Johnny Stagg, as weasely as Gríma Wormtongue.

You’ve got three great women characters with all the style, skill, and general badassery as The Deadly Viper squad.

Throw it all into a book with the violence level equal to—if not greater than—Kill Bill, Vol. 1.

It’s got the pacing of a classic rock song—with occasional bursts of speed metal.

It’s fast, it’s furious, it’s bloody, it’s raw emotion, it’s dangerous. It is so much fun. It is Rock and Roll.

If you can handle that combination, you’re in for a great ride. If one part of the above doesn’t appeal to you? Skip this.

I thought this was great, I hated to walk away from it every time I had to. Kristen Sieh’s narration was precisely what this book needed.

By the time the book ended, I felt like you do after a great concert—elated, a little worn out, and riding a high you don’t want to come down from.

* There is a love triangle, but it’s a good kind—it’s a supportive, sororal triangle.
 

Poetry Comics by Grant Snider

lighthearted reflective

• Plot- or character-driven? N/A
• Strong character development? N/A
• Loveable characters? N/A
• Diverse cast of characters? N/A
• Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A

3.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Poetry Comics About? 

Rather than try to really describe this book (and I wouldn’t do a great job of it), here’s a shoddy photo of the back cover (forgive the partial library barcode)

A Word About the Art 

If you’re a fan of Snider’s characteristic simple drawings, you’ll enjoy the art here. I am one of those, so I did. 

The panels pair up really nicely with the poems—sometimes augmenting the shape and construction of the poem, sometimes simply illustrating them. Either way, it’s just what you want in this kind of book. They never detract from the poems (they probably make some of the simpler ones better—they definitely disguise their brevity*). 

* I don’t mean to suggest that simple/brief poems are bad, they’re simply short. 

So, what did I think about Poetry Comics? 

This book is a shining example of adequasivity. It was perfectly fine, but on the whole, it really didn’t do much for me. 

There were a few poems about writing a poem—they were nice (not particularly practical). Most seemed to be trying really hard to be uplifting—and many of those fell flat to me, primarily because they were clearly trying really hard, but I did enjoy a couple of those. I’m going to guess that I really enjoyed about 10% of them—but there were none that I’d consider “bad,” on the whole, the book was adequate. 

So adequate that I knew halfway through that I’d have to look up that Newsradio video linked above. 

Do I think readers in the target age range would appreciate this more than I did? Sure, if they like poetry (and possibly those who are ambivalent to it). 

Blood Reunion by J.C.M. Berne

adventurous funny tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? It's complicated
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

  This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Blood Reunion About? 

There’s a nasty, Buffy-Summers-would-be-paralyzed-with-fear level vampire loose on Wistful. Rohan and his friends, some new allies, and a couple of people he’d really not rather work with have to stop it before it kills everyone aboard and countless others when it can escape—or before the Empire obliterates Wistful to achieve the latter end. 

’nuff said. 

Back to Wistful 

I guess some readers complained that the second book in the series took place on Earth, not on Wistful, the sentient space station that Rohan calls home. I didn’t share the sentiment, but I guess I could understand that—it wasn’t just Wistful that we didn’t get that much from, it was most of the other characters that were introduced in the first turn. 

Being back on Wistful, however, has me thinking that maybe those people were on to something. Having our hero back on his adoptive home turf—with the advantages and challenges that it brings really adds something to the story. Wistful is an interesting character and a great setting (and we get to see a lot more of both aspects of Wistful here). Having characters like Wei Li and the Ursans on hand is a major plus, too. 

I won’t complain about Rohan going to visit Earth—but I’m sure glad to see him home. 

Daddy Issues 

We met Rohan’s fantastic mother in Return of The Griffin, and now it’s time to meet Dad. Boy, I missed Mom—and this isn’t a knock on Berne’s work introducing us to Dhruv, I think we’re supposed to find hi a problematic character. 

He’s got quite the charm about him, do doubt. He’s determined, he’s focused, he’s powerful, he’s wily—things that he clearly passed on to his son. He’s also deceitful, egotistical, stubborn, and unwilling to consider opposing points of view (other things you can see in Rohan, but he’s fighting them). 

He and Rohan have a complicated relationship, let’s say. 

The addition of Rohan’s mother to the series was fun and mostly sweet. This is fun and…something else. I’m not sure what that something is quite yet. I think we need to see a little more from Dhruv, and I expect we will. 

Rohan’s Dilemma 

This right here is what draws me to Rohan (well, in addition to the banter, the action, and everything else)—Berne isn’t satisfied to just give us a super powerful, quippy, superhero. Rohan is trying to get away from his past and to live differently. 

But…like the man said, “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!” Rohan can’t get away from his reputation, his status, his errors/crimes, and even his inclinations to act as the Griffin. Not only can he not escape all that—he has to rely on it here. I don’t want to get into details here, but Rohan has to play the Rohan card to keep the il’Drach Empire from coming in making a bad situation worse. 

He also has to wrestle with himself—he knows (on some level) and is being told repeatedly by just about everyone—that to save the people on the station (and maybe even beyond it), he has to kill the vampire. But he’s trying not to do that anymore. Also, he thinks there are ways to defeat the vampire without killing him…Rohan just has to figure out what those are. But he’s torn—if he does “the right thing” for him and his morals, what’s the risk/damage to the innocents on Wistful? Should he be willing to even consider that? 

Beyond that…Rohan has to let some people jeopardize themselves—and even outright sacrifice themselves so he has a chance to stop the vampire. 

I really love that Berne is making Rohan deal with this (it’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, I trust). 

So, what did I think about Blood Reunion? 

It’s a JCM Berne book. This means I liked it and I think you should read it. I have two unread JCM Berne books on my TBR shelf—I can tell you now, with 98.732% confidence, that’s what I’m going to say about those. The question here is…what do I say specifically? 

The vampires (both kinds we see here) are just cool. Nothing incredibly revolutionary about them—it’s nigh unto impossible to do something new with a vampire, it’s just about how can you make one of the most utilized creature-types feel fresh. Berne pulls it off. They’re even different than the vamps in Return of the Griffin, so that’s a neat trick. I want to say more about this, but that’d violate my spoiler policy. 

Dhruv was just great—I mistyped that a second ago as “grate,” but maybe that was a slip of the Freudian-type. Because he can be a little grating, too. By design, I should stress. But I look forward to his return as much as Rohan is apprehensive about it. 

The exploration of Wistful was interesting and the promise of finding more layers to her is fantastic. I would’ve liked a bit more of it now though, it’s the one point where I think Berne could’ve improved here. Maybe in the aftermath of this, Wistful and Rohan (or Rohan and Wei Li) can debrief some on this and I’ll feel better about it. 

Speaking of Wei Li—if anyone is going to supplant Rohan in my book, it’s going to be Wei Li. Can we get a spinoff novella or seven? 

I have to mention the dialogue, not just the bantering (but especially the bantering). Berne has reached Jim Butcher-levels here. I don’t care what the story is, I just want to read his characters talking. 

I don’t have anything else to say, really—action, dialogue, great aliens, some good moral dilemmas, and some quality time with characters that are becoming old friends. Blood Reunion is another winner from Berne. Go grab Wistful Ascending and dive in!! 

Pictures of J. R. R. Tolkien by J.R.R. Tolkien, J.R.R. Tolkien

informative

• Plot- or character-driven? N/A
• Strong character development? N/A
• Loveable characters? N/A
• Diverse cast of characters? N/A
• Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A

3.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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Why this Book Today? 

Last Spring, I read Lashaan Balasingam talk about this book at Roars and Echoes and put it on a wish list instantly. I was given a copy of it last year, but aside from glancing through it then, I hadn’t taken the time to really sit down with it. But with Hobbit Day yesterday, I made time Saturday to do just that—so I could post about it today (and maybe add this and some other things to a recurring thing like I do with Towel Day). 

You should really see what Lashaan had to say about it, not only does he do a (typically) better job of it than I’m about to, but he liked it a lot more than I did. 

What’s Pictures by J.R.R. Tolkien About? 

Well, it’s pictures drawn by Tolkein in his spare time—when he wasn’t teaching, creating new languages, writing epic fantasies, or smoking his pipe (well, he probably did both of those at the same time). 

The Publisher describes it this way: 

With Christopher Tolkien as your guide, take a tour through this colorful gallery of enchanting art by J.R.R. Tolkien, as published originally in the first groundbreaking Tolkien Calendars of the 1970s.

This collection of pictures, with a text by Christopher Tolkien, now reissued after almost thirty years, confirms J.R.R. Tolkien’s considerable talent as an artist. It provides fascinating insight into his visual conception of many of the places and events familiar to readers of The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and The Silmarillion.

Examples of his art range from delicate watercolors depicting Rivendell, the Forest of Lothlorien, Smaug, and Old Man Willow, to drawings and sketches of Moria Gate and Minas Tirith. Together they form a comprehensive collection of Tolkien’s own illustrations for his most popular books.

Also included are many of his beautiful designs showing patterns of flowers and trees, friezes, tapestries, and heraldic devices associated with the world of Middle-earth. In their variety and scope, they provide abundant visual evidence of the richness of his imagination.

This enchanting gallery was personally selected by Christopher Tolkien who, through detailed notes on the sources for each picture, provides unique insight into the artistic vision of his father, J.R.R. Tolkien.

 
How’s the Writing?
Well, it’s pretty bland. It’s just straightforward descriptions of the pictures, where it came from, where it was originally published—who added color (sometimes), and so on.

It’s not bad, it’s not good—it’s just there. And that’s good enough, this isn’t supposed to be about Christopher Tolkien’s wordsmithery—this is about the pictures.

How’s the Art?
Well, I think it’s clear why we think of Tolkien as a writer, scholar, and storyteller and not a visual artist. Don’t get me wrong—I can’t hold a candle to his drawing. But it’s nothing stellar.

But it does deliver the flavor of Middle Earth and its denizens in a way the books can’t quite manage (or does manage, in a different way). You get a real sense of the scope and scale of the world. It’s clear that Jackson and his team spent some time with Tolkien’s art and drew a lot from it—and you can see why they’d want to (beyond just trying for authenticity). I did like it—and could easily spend time studying the details.

Lashaan’s post has a couple of samples if you’re curious. But honestly, if you’re basing getting your hands on this book on the quality of the art, you might be missing the point. (still, check out the samples to get a feel for it)

If you want great fantasy art, may I suggest starting with Larry Elmore, Chris McGrath, or Isabeau Backhaus? But there’s something about seeing it from the hand of the creator, you know?

So, what did I think about Pictures by J.R.R. Tolkien?
 As a book, it’s…fine. As a collection of pictures, it’s…nice enough. As a way to get to know a different side of Tolkien and how his brain, his creativity, and his personality worked? It’s pretty cool. I’d love to see sketches, drawings, and even paintings by other authors to get inside their heads (okay, no one wants inside Thomas Harris’ mind, but you know what I’m saying. Keep the visuals for Hannibal and the rest locked away.)
 
Am I glad that I own this? Yes. Am I glad that I finally got around to taking it out of its slipcase and really worked through it? You bet. Am I just a little underwhelmed by the whole thing? Yup.
 
But I will return to flip through it and pour over the contents repeatedly.
 

Ghost Stations (Inner Circle) by M. D. Presley

adventurous mysterious tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Ghost Stations About? 

New York City is a bit much for Corbin—he’s more than out of his element (a status he’s getting used to after running from the cult he’d pretty much been raised in, finding himself in a strange world of magicians and magician factions). But this is where the task that Mister is set to tackle. There’s a new drug variant floating around in parts of the US that affects magicians in a dangerous way. The Circle can turn a blind eye to the standard version of the drug, but this new form is a step too far. 

Kirin, meanwhile, is back home. A place she hadn’t expected to see for some time yet. Her family is here—with all the interfamily and intrafamily dynamics and politics that brings. As are her friends—that found family established in her teen years that seems tighter than blood. Corbin gets shunted off with them to stay out of the way while Mister and Isaac get into it. 

It doesn’t take long for Kirin’s group to decide that they’re supposed to be sticking their noses into it anyway—and what else to they have to do? So, they seek out a source for this drug—they know someone who can do the right kind of analysis on it to see how it was made. The figure if they can get that information, they can trace it to the source. 

While dealing with this, Corbin has to learn to navigate the powerful families that make up the Circle, the strange subcultures of magic in NYC, and the strangest challenge of them all—interpersonal relationships. Colin was never equipped to handle life outside the cult—to be thrown into the intense world of twenty-somethings with too much money, drugs, alcohol, and hormones flying around. (sure the drugs and the magic and the danger are the more pressing things—but Colin and handle that) 

The Little More of the World 

In Rites of Passage, we were told about the Circle—the group that runs the world of magic in the States—at least in the major population centers, while other areas have more of a local group controlling them. I’m not going to say that after this, the reader will understand the Circle and how it operates fully. But we get an idea—a good look at it. 

And honestly, it’s not that pretty. 

I think that The Inner Circle, like Jacka’s Stephen Oakwood, is doing a good thing in Urban Fantasy—a new thing, too. Where most Urban Fantasy deals with magic/groups in terms of detectives/police vs. criminal acts and structures (either organized crime or werewolf packs that act like motorcycle gangs). Presley and Jacka are presenting us with “legitimate” sources of power—economic elites. 

In these worlds, it’s the 1% of the magic world (which is already an elite caste of sorts) that holds the power. Not only does this allow Presley, Jacka, and (I assume) others I am not thinking of/haven’t been exposed to comment on a rising oligarchy and the power of these elites. But it gives the reader a handy way to think about these things without getting too tied up in contemporary political labels or societal movements. 

As Mister, Isaac, and Corbin keep traveling the country, I look forward to seeing other ways that this is shown and dissected. 

So, what did I think about Ghost Stations? 

All that aside—this is just a rollicking story. Most of the things I really want to talk about are spoilers (the way the drug works, the people that Corbin meets and makes deals with, and so on). 

The change of setting—and the promise of more settings to come—helped this seem very fresh compared to the first, and should do the same for the following books (it’s the second, the series is obviously still fresh, it’s more of the promise here). And Corbin not understanding much of how this world he’s in now works, allows Presley to inform the reader while maintaining the story’s momentum. His cluelessness allows us to be. New case, new setting, Corbin and the reader both get to learn a lot. Thankfully, we readers are safe from whatever magic whammy is threatening our dowser. 

As before, his magic helps. But it’s Corbin’s instincts, his watchfulness—even his outsiderness—that help him to get where he needs to go. While watching someone sling magic is always fun, it’s the guys like Dresden, Alex Verus, Mercy Thompson, and Corbin that really make a series like this work. 

I liked most of the world we got to see—I wouldn’t want to live in this NYC (or any other, to be honest), but it was interesting. Her brother seemed cool and her friend TJ was someone I hope we see soon. The other member of her group was generally a tool who’d be a great antagonist in an 80s teen movie. Still, he was a good example of the type. Everyone else we met? Fascinating. Presley seems incapable of creating a dull character (even if we only see them for a chapter). 

Ghost Stations is a solid follow-up with a great hook, a better world to explore, and enough turns and twists to keep you engaged from the creepy start to the satisfying conclusion and all points between. 

I’m eager to see where the next novel takes us, but for now, I just want to encourage you to pick this one up. 

The Big Empty by Robert Crais

adventurous mysterious tense fast-paced

5.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s The Big Empty About? 

I’m tempted to skip this part and rush to the bit where I insist you go pick this up, throw up the five stars, and call it a day. But I won’t—I’d feel guilty about it. But honestly, feel free to skip this. It’s just filler until I get to the .jpg with the stars. 

The Baker Next Door is an Internet sensation, she’s moving on to TV and brick-and-mortar stores. But her success isn’t enough for her, something’s been chewing at her for a long time, so Traci Beller comes to Elvis with a cold case. The ten-year anniversary of her father’s disappearance is coming up, and she wants some answers. She’d prefer Elvis find him hale and hearty, but she doesn’t expect it. But she wants to know what happened before. Five years ago good investigators that Elvis knows couldn’t find him, and the state declared him deceased. But Traci wants to try again. 

Something about her and her determination gets to Elvis, and he agrees to look at the LAPD’s file—as well as the records from the other PIs. Also, Traci gave him muffins. It probably doesn’t hurt that Ben Chenier is fan, either. 

Still, it’s a cold case. It’s not going to be easy to find something new—and it’s only something new that will move the case forward. Otherwise, he’s just going to be doing what his predecessors did, just probably less fruitfully. Thankfully (otherwise this would be a short story, not a novel), Elvis asks the right question and gets the answer he needs. 

On the other hand, he might have preferred the less eventful version. 

Elvis and Joe 

At this point, Joe Pike is practically a super-human, or maybe a human so fantastic as to be unbelievable—like Batman or Jack Reacher. And I don’t care (I don’t think anyone does)—because he’s not infallible and we all love to see him come in to save the day. 

Meanwhile, Elvis has always seemed pretty mortal. Something happens in The Big Empty that emphasizes this mortality. It is not like what happened to Spenser in Small Vices, but it reminded me of it. But Crais handles it better and more believably—Elvis is not infallible, he’s not invincible, and it’s good for the reader—and for him—to get a reminder of it. 

Still, it appears that Crais has taken the “stop the characters aging” route—we don’t get references to Vietnam anymore to keep them from seeming as old as they are (see also: Spenser dropping references to Korea). I don’t care how much Tai Chi or whatever Elvis does—he’s too old to do half of what he does. I’m absolutely okay with that, I don’t need to see inconveniently-timed sciatica messing up Pike’s silent approach to a building or Elvis needing a cane or a hearing aid to get through the day. 

Basically, I wouldn’t change a thing about what Crais has done with these characters, nor what he’s doing with them now—and The Big Empty is one of the best books to showcase the strengths of his approach to the characters since The Last Detective. 

On the Other Hand, We Have John Chen 

Really, truly, John Chen is a lousy excuse for a human being—he’s a decent criminalist (it seems) and he’s really easy for Elvis to manipulate into getting what he needs. But the guy is about as self-aware as a piece of toast. His self-delusions are at the level of Pike’s omnicompetence—this doesn’t make him any less entertaining (or cringe-inducing) to read, but wow…some growth in his character would restore some of my faith in humanity. 

I was so happy when he showed up in these pages, and I loved every moment with him. (so, yeah, I really don’t want him to grow or develop as a character) 

But what I really want—and I don’t know how this could happen—is a short story/novella where John Chen and Roddy Ho have to team up. It would be the ultimate in HR nightmares, and the two would hate each other (I assume). But boy howdy, would it be fun to watch. 

So, what did I think about The Big Empty? 

Yes, it’s almost a foregone conclusion that I’m going to love a new Elvis Cole novel. But that shouldn’t take away from just how ____ing good this was. If this was my first time reading Crais, it would not have been my last—and I’d have a stack of library books next to me now (which would be replaced by a stack of paperbacks fresh from the bookstore after I read one or two more). 

There’s just something about Crais’ prose that makes you race through it. Because of the pace at which he puts books out lately, I wanted to take my time and savor it. Relish each paragraph. But you just can’t do it—the prose is so smooth, so well put together, that every time you try to slow down, Crais comes along behind you and gives you a nudge and you remember that you’re on a bobsled hurtling down the track. That almost sounds like you’re out of control—but you’re not. Maybe a better metaphor would be that you’re in a Lamborghini Murciélago, trying to drive slowly down a deserted highway to take in the scenery. But that car isn’t built for 35 MPH, and before you notice, you’re doing at least 80. 

Also, that wasn’t me complaining (too much) about the pace Crais is publishing lately—if he was faster, that prose wouldn’t be as honed. He can take as long as he wants. 

We got a larger-than-usual cast of supporting characters for a Cole or Pike novel (or so it seemed, I didn’t do a headcount, nor am I going to go back and do one for the last few books). I thought they were all great—from the antagonists, to the villains, the witnesses, and the innocent parties that got sucked up into something they shouldn’t have been. I believed them all and would like to see almost all of them again (if only it were possible). I can’t tell you the best characters because it would ruin too much, and I want to stay on Putnam’s good side. But when you get to the last chapter, the character there that I haven’t mentioned in this post? That’s the best character (by a nose) in this one. 

The first chapter was great—maybe it didn’t do much in terms of story, but it gets you right back into Elvis and Lucy. Then we meet Traci and her manager (that you want Elvis to punch almost as much as he wants to), and you’re with Elvis in wanting to help her—and the book keeps building from strength to strength there—right up to the perfect closing paragraph. 

The sole quibble I have with this was the way that the relationship between Elvis and the Sherriff Department’s detective. It just seemed off the way it developed from the natural antagonism to the endpoint where it seemed more (not completely) collegial easier than it should’ve. 

So, yeah, I think I’ve made it clear that I really enjoyed The Big Empty, I don’t think it’s the best thing that Crais has written—but it’s gotta be in the top 5 (it could be recency bias talking, but I don’t think so). I’d have to think long and hard to come up with many (other than The Promise, because of Maggie). Regardless of how it stacks up with the rest of Crais’ oeuvre, it’s a dynamite novel, one of the highlights of 2024 for me—and I predict many people will say it’s a highlight of 2025 for them when it’s published next week. 

Get your pre-orders or library holds in now, friends, you want to get your hands on this. 

Disclaimer: I received this eARC from Putnam Books via NetGalley in exchange for this post—thanks to both for this. 

Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear by Seanan McGuire

adventurous emotional hopeful reflective medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? Character
• Strong character development? Yes
• Loveable characters? Yes
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

4.5

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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What’s Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear About? 

One of the advantages (and, to be fair, aggravating parts) of this series is that each book can be from anywhere on the series timeline. Here in the tenth installment, we get the origin story of someone that we got to know in the third book (Beneath the Sugar Sky). Reality itself is wibbly-wobbly in this series, why not timey wimey? 

We meet Nadya at birth—where a young Russian woman who is not ready to be a mother is rushing to give her up—even before she’s freaked out that Nadya is missing an arm. As we watch Nadya growing up, she doesn’t really seem to care about the arm she never had. But when a couple of Americans come to adopt a disadvantaged Russian child, it starts to become a factor in her life. 

She’s not comfortable with her new life in the States (yet?), but when a prosthetic arm is imposed on her (in the name of help—see below), she’s made to feel incomplete as well as Other. Her only solace is the pond a short walk from her adoptive parents’ home where she can watch turtles—an animal that has long fascinated her. 

Before she knows it, she falls through a Door and ends up in a world she doesn’t understand or recognize (but really isn’t that much stranger than the change from a Russian orphanage to a Colorado suburb). 

The Lost and the Lonely 

I probably shouldn’t have—but I laughed when she got the “Be Sure” message. It’s in a seemingly-cruel place, but it was original and it meant the story was progressing. I also found her Door rather intriguing. 

But better than that was the way her arrival in Belyrreka, the Land Beneath the Lake, was explained to her. Sometimes people come to Belyrreka* because a hero is needed to do something. But sometimes, it’s just that someone isn’t at home in their world and they need a place to fit in. Nadya is the latter, so it seems. Given that most of the children we’ve seen go through a Door to do something heroic, it’s nice to see this option. 

This doesn’t mean she’s incapable of heroism, or of doing something important. It just means that she probably ended up in Belyrreka because she belonged there more than on Earth. 

This is really a slice-of-life story. We just get to see how Nadya lives and matures in a place where she feels that she belongs, with family, friends, and a purpose. Yes, in the back of our minds, we know that something is going to happen and she’s going to end up at Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children. But until then… This novella is like the years between Aslan coronating the Pevensies and the fateful hunt for the White Stag—nothing heroic, nothing particularly notable. Just…life. Regular, ordinary, day-to-day life. 

Well, “ordinary” in a world that’s described as Beneath a Lake, where everyone is underwater to one degree or another (breathing without gills), full of talking animals, and where a river can magically endow people with gifts/obligations. So it’s a loose use of the word “ordinary.” 

* And by implication, other worlds 

I’m Not Entirely Sure This One is Fair 

Many of the children we’ve met—particularly if we’ve met their parents, too—aren’t all that fond of their parents. They’re critical of them (even before their Doors appear, definitely afterward). By and large, I’ve been with the children in their critiques and evaluations of the parents—even when it’s clear that the parents are doing their best (which doesn’t happen as often as it should). 

I’m not convinced that Nadya is entirely fair when thinking about the adults in her life. Her appraisal of the orphanage staff (at least after they arranged for her to get adopted) is harsh when they really just did what they could to help her get out of the orphanage (which she sees, but attributes it to less-than-altruistic ends). Her parents really don’t understand her (beyond the language) and are clumsy at best in their attempts to help her fit into Colorado. It’s hard to tell how much of the assessment of their motivations and attempts comes from the omniscient narrator and how much is Nadya’s. But really, I think whoever is doing the assessing could be more charitable (without giving blanket approval). 

Particularly her adoptive father—I really get the sense that his affection is real and that in time, he’d have become what she needs. I’m not so sure about his wife, however… On some level, they are trying to make life better. But her ideas of better and what needs improved differ. 

Now, Nadya is a prepubescent child yanked out of the only home she ever knew, brought to another country and culture without warning (or consent), and forced into a mold and environment that she’s unprepared for. So, sure, she’s going to be less than charitable—it’s justified and understandable. I just wish the narration did a slightly better job of showing that. 

So, what did I think about Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear? 

That aside…I loved Nadya. Getting to know her like this was great.
 

This is a book about home. About acceptance. About finding your place in the world, with people who “get” you, who care about you, and who want the best for you—even if that best doesn’t necessarily make a lot of sense to them. 

It’s nice, it’s comforting, and it’s reassuring to see Nadya find this for herself and getting to enjoy it for as long as she does. Yes, it’s hard to see her end up back in the “real world” knowing that means some misery before Eleanor comes to her (at least partial) rescue. 

There’s a little less whimsy to this novella than many of the other installments in the series—outside of the construction of the world. But if I had to tag this with any description, I’d probably use “cozy.” If I didn’t know this series, I’d assume it would belong with Travis Baldtree or S.L. Rowland. Maybe Heather Fawcett. But I do know better—this series continues to transcend easy categorization. Wayward Children is its own subgenre. 

McGuire brings the emotional depth that Nadya and her story need. Belyrreka is a great world that operates on its own (self-aware) logic—it’s a place I’d love to visit (assuming I wouldn’t panic at the whole living underwater thing, which I can’t promise), but wouldn’t want to live. But McGuire brings it to life and fills it with people I wish I could get to know more. 

This is definitely one of the stronger books in this series that is on a great roll lately, I commend it to your attention. As with just about every book in the series, it can be read as a stand-alone or as an entry point (but I strongly encourage reading at least Every Heart a Doorway before any of the others). I was sad when it ended—not because of the way it ended, I just wasn’t ready to move on. I predict I won’t be alone in that. 

Now, excuse me…I need to go figure out a way to cram in a re-read of Beneath a Sugar Sky to my schedule. 

The Killer's Christmas List by Chris Frost

dark mysterious medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? No
• Loveable characters? It's complicated
• Diverse cast of characters? Yes
• Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes

3.0

 This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
--- 

A Quick Note 

For reasons he’s probably detailed somewhere (and I likely read/heard and forgotten), Chris McDonald wrote this under the pen name Chris Frost (and who knows, McDonald might be a pen name, too). But as he’s not being covert about it (his Twitter account uses both names), I’m going to talk about them as if they’re the same person, because McDonald’s work informs the way I reacted to this. 

What’s The Killer’s Christmas List About? 

Previous drafts of this have been over-complicated as I explain too much and yet try to be spoiler-free, or they’ve been so bland as to be useless (“A new DI is assigned to a holiday-themed murder. Detecting ensues.”). So I’m going with the crutch of the Publisher’s description of this “anti-cosy Christmas” mystery: 

In the picturesque village of Kibblesworth, DI Tom Stonem is dreaming of a quiet Christmas alone.

But in the shadow of the Angel of the North, a body lies waiting. The dead man is posed with a child’s Christmas list in his pocket, and the first mysterious item – 1. No angel – is crossed off.

When a second body is found – a woman, stabbed in the abdomen after her work Christmas do – Stonem is convinced there’s a grim connection between the crime scenes and the seemingly innocent list. 2. Red partee dress. Could this be a murderer’s twisted code?

As a blizzard rages in the Tyne & Wear countryside, the body count is snowballing. Can Stonem stop the killer before they get everyone on their Christmas list?

 
He’s So Good at This…
This is a minor thing, but Frost is so good at this (like McDonald, see A Wash of Black)—I can think of other examples, too, but few are as smooth as Frost/McDonald is. Stonem is really introduced to us as he arrives on the crime scene as his first day on the job in this station. So we get a blend of our introduction to him, the other officers, and the crime all at once.

The skeleton of the series is established, the kind of detective Stonem is, the identities and character of those he works with, and the kind of crimes we’re going to be seeing—both for the rest of this series and the rest of this novel. It’s so economical, so organic, and efficient that I can’t help but admire it. You start off with the whole world for DI Tom Stonem delivered in a chapter or two, rather than getting it in dribs and drabs like most people do. I have no problem with that approach—but when you see it done like this, it just seems so right.

The Flashbacks
We get regular flashbacks to someone’s childhood throughout the book—it’s a child who doesn’t have a lot in life, and a couple of parents who need financial help, and probably addiction treatment (and a lot more, too). It’s clearly connected to the killings the book focuses on. But, of course, just how it is connected is held back.

As a story-telling tool, I typically don’t like this approach.* It just seems mawkish, usually ungraceful, and I really dislike the way it’s generally used to give us insight into a killer (or someone associated with the crime) without identifiying the person, it just grates on me like nails on a chalkboard**. However, the way that Frost used it ended up really working for me, and was some of the more effective writing in the novel. Good on him.

* I say that, but I probably get sucked in regularly. But at least I don’t think I like this approach.
** Readers of a certain age should ask their parents. And maybe suggest an updated comparison for me to use.

Spoilerish thought, maybe skip this paragraph: This did not go the way that Frost seemed to be telegraphing—it may be that he had a better idea partway through and changed things, but it was probably (and it makes him seem cleverer) that he faked the reader out. A couple of times in the case of this reader. I’m so glad that he did—not just because I enjoy it when an author fakes me out without cheating, but because the way it ended up works so much better than where I thought he was going.

Just how Christmas-y is This?
Not very. Christmas plays a role in motive, and the thing is set in the days leading up to December 25th. But there’s not a very holiday feel to this. Some Christmas mysteries (even involving murder, kidnappings, serial killers, and other acts of violence) still give you a Christmas cheer vibe or something like that. There’s so little of that here as to make it negligible. The holiday is important to the plot, but not to the “vibe,” for lack of a better word.

Basically, read this one whenever you get around to it. You don’t need to sip on egg nog with Andy Williams playing in the background to appreciate it.

So, what did I think about The Killer’s Christmas List?
This is not Frost at his best, I’m sorry to say. Something about the prose felt clunky and occasionally overwritten—maybe Frost and his editor got in some strange groove and didn’t read as critically as they could’ve in the last passes. Was anything so bad that it took me out of the book? No. I winced a little and moved on. But it’s kind of a shame. Also…there were a couple of lines of investigation I just can’t imagine an experienced detective (or one who’s watched more than 3 episodes of Law & Order) didn’t take from the get-go. It didn’t hurt Stonem or his team, it just felt weird not to at least have them mentioned. And I grumbled about it to the book, which thankfully didn’t reply.

But whatever.

The plot though? Really good. Frost’s storytelling makes up for my quibbles—the way he develops the story, the momentum he gathers, and the twists were really nicely done. I’d sussed out the killer ahead of time (but I couldn’t have been wronger about motive)—and Frost convinced me I was wrong until he got to the reveal.

I liked Tom Stonem—he’s not as instantly compelling as Erkia Piper was, but it didn’t take too long for me to appreciate him, and I think in future books, I’ll end up liking him as much as, if not more, as Piper. And I’m really curious about where Frost intends to take him. Some of the rest of the team will be fun to hang out with, too. They’re not the typical detective team that I meet in British Police Procedurals (which frequently feel interchangeable between series).

The Killer’s Christmas List was a solid and quick read that was pretty satisfying. I’m looking forward to more of these.