Book Review: Angelfall, by Susan Ee

As usual, comments are welcome!

When I first read this book, it didn't make much of a strong impression either way, and at times I found myself wondering as to the purpose of many scenes. But I'm glad I gave Angelfall, by Susan Ee, a second chance. While it lacks the grandiose scope and dark wit of The Mortal Instruments (my favorite YA series), it tell a compact, efficient story that makes its energy go a long way--rather like the Prius of YA.

Did they really need to mix serif and sans-serif fonts on one cover?

Penryn Young just wants to survive the apocalypse with what's left of her family intact. Between her schizophreniac mother and her crippled younger sister, this is harder than it looks--especially when a band of roving angels abducts said sister. She's got to team up with Raffe, a mysterious angel who's just had his wings chopped off, on a journey to get the constantly bleeding double amputee (who is somehow still  considered very attractive) the medical attention he can only find in (quite coincidentally) the place the angels are keeping the abducted children. As they journey across war-torn California, they encounter a mysterious pack of demonic creatures who hunt human flesh and briefly join the human resistance to the angelic invasion.

It's a creative story, told in a strong, consistent voice. The pacing is excellent, and Ee does a good job of keeping the tension high throughout. Certain visual images are arresting, especially the descriptions of the human bodies mauled by demons, but some others lack fire. Despite being set on the West Coast, we don't really get much of any local culture. Breakers, by Edward W. Robertson, did a much better job of capturing post-apocalyptic California--his L.A. is full of life even as it's dying. 

I would have also preferred Penryn's character to have been a little deeper. From the first page, wherein she slips knives into the straps of her boots (despite this being an absolutely horrible place to put a weapon. Seriously, if you need it to defend yourself, you'll have to bend over to get it. Can't you just stick it in your belt?), we're meant to think of her as a badass. This is explained by her mother enrolling her in self-defense classes, just in case Penryn needed to be able to defend herself against her mother when her illness gets out of control.

But living with a mentally ill parent does more than make you a black-belt. It's a difficult, embarrassing way to live. And Penryn doesn't seem to have any of the scars of that life. Did kids make fun of her when she was young for having a crazy mom? Was she secretly ashamed of her mother all these years? It'd improve her character a lot if, when she kicks a gang member in the balls, to project the image of someone who picked on her in her childhood. And she thinks of her mother more like a badly trained pet than a parent who's failed to protect her from the bad things happening in the world.  There's no real resentment there, just stoic acceptance.

Penryn behaves more normally and heroically as any teenage girl could be expected to in the apocalypse. She never once thinks of abandoning her crippled sister or crazy mother. Of course, that's not the kind of thing a good person would do--but she never even once considers it. She quickly comes to trust Raffe and the human rebels, even though you'd expect a girl who's father abandoned her to have some issues with trust.  True, there's a few times she has skeptical emotions, but they don't ever truly influence her actions. Penryn may have a tragic backstory, but that's all it is: backstory. It doesn't really effect her actions in the present. 

Angelfall may not be a deep story, and it's certainly not the best YA I've ever read, but it's an entertaining yarn worth reading twice. My rating? For YA fantasy, five stars. For a novel, four.

Book Review: Royal Flush, by Scott Bartlett

Ah, comedy. Of all forms of writing, comedy is, most of all, suited for pure amusement. It takes a sick mind to analyze comedy, breaking it down into lightbulbs and knock on doors and constituent chickens. Thankfully, I have that kind of sick mind. This week's review is Royal Flush, by Scott Bartlett. This medieval comedy starts a little slow, but soon finds its stride as a colorful cast of characters vie for love, power, and revenge.

The length to wide ratio of this cover art is non-standard. Also, it's got a toilet.

We meet the King--an unnamed sovereign--and his devoted, intelligent advisor. The advisor wants the King to get married to ensure the stability of the kingdom. The King (who only got his throne because no one else wanted it) doesn't want to. Until he meets the alluring but coldhearted Alice, who becomes the first of many women to take--and break--his heart. Of the four parts of the story, the beginning is the weakest, as the first few pages focus on the interactions between the King and his advisor instead of building up a wacky, diverse cast of characters who can simultaneously sustain running gags and lead the story in interesting new directions.

We get Frederick, the King's fiddler, whose girlfriend Eliza/Alice (not the first Alice, a different one), secretly hits on the King and her therapist. We get Duke Edward, editor of the Kingdom Crier, a tabloid magazine that occasionally prints pictures of the king in drag. We get the King's mother, Gertrude, who's spent several years in her son's dungeon and would like to see him overthrown. And we get the Linguists' Guild, a group of travelling scholars developing a unified theory of language that fits all languages in the world (save one, but the King kindly agrees to exterminate that culture for them).

Even though the real plot doesn't fully come into play until about a quarter of the way through the novel, the gags and pratfalls are funny enough to keep you reading. Bartlett's timestamps are particularly good at adding quick infusions of humor: "an issue of the Kingdom Crier later" and "after 7 hours of amazing sleep" are some particularly good ones. The author's intrusions into the manuscript are self aware and witty, for example, "[The King] was beginning to think perhaps he had finally found happiness. Wouldn't that have made for a boring story!" Royal Flush is anything but boring. When Bartlett hits his stride, nothing can slow him down.

Highs: Wit. The humor in this story primarily relies on one-liners and running gags, with a strong undercurrent of situational comedy. Character development. The King started to grow on me, after a while, and I enjoyed his many errors on the road to finding true love.

Lows: Slow beginning. The introduction could have used a bit more wit, to really convince me that this was humor worth reading.

It may not exposed any dark truths about the nature of humanity, but Royal Flush is a fun, easy read that will keep you reading until the bitter (or not so bitter) end. For a comedy, I give it four out of five stars. For a novel, I give it three and a half.

You can download Royal Flush here

Book Review: The Breeders, by Matthew J. Beier

            It’s not every book that makes me sigh in relief when I reach the afterword and learn the book was written as a satire. No, author Matthew J. Beier does not believe that homosexuals want to take over the planet and control every facet of our lives. That being said, his book The Breeders will make a wonderful Christmas present for hard core right-wingers and gay hipsters alike. How many books can you say that about? But all politics aside, The Breeders is an interesting tale, eerily reminiscent of Huxley’s Brave New World. It can be overly sappy in places, but by the end of the book, you’ll learn Beier isn’t just a skilled writer—he’s got serious balls.

For some reason, this reminds me of the kids' TV show Cyberchase. Not sure why

            In a society dominated by the flamingly homosexual New Rainbow Army, all heterosexual woman are genetically engineered to be sterile. This poses a problem for Grace Jarvis, who finds herself expecting a baby after an underground heterosexual orgy. As the society she lives in strengthens its crackdown on reproductive rights, Grace frantically searches for a way to save herself and her unborn child—a difficult thing, especially when one of your fathers doesn’t approve of you sexual orientation. Her search leads her to the mysterious Opposition—a rebel group that offers Grace a chance to escape the New Rainbow Army—if she’s willing to leave everything she knows and loves behind.

            Dex Wheelock, the father of Grace’s baby, has a big decision to make: stay home and face possible persecution for his sexual orientation, or follow this pregnant woman across the world. Dex is, naturally, terrified at the thought of leaving his whole world behind. When he lets his fear overwhelm him for a split second, all plans and hopes are dashed apart and he finds himself on a long, terrifying journey to survive and reunite with the mother of his child.

            Along his way, he finds spiritual fulfillment and inner peace. This is excellent for Dex and a little tedious for the reader. It doesn’t feel quite real, and books don’t run well when the main characters are happy and serene. It’s the kind of thought I’d expect from a Buddhist monk, not a man on the run for his life. Pregnancy is idealized—Grace thinks about the miracle of bringing natural life into the world quite frequency, and her swollen feet and constant need to pee not at all. Over the course of the book, the characters do develop—but in becoming parents, the pieces of their relationship fall together a little two neatly. After all, they were random strangers when they met at the orgy. You’d think that two random people would have more points of disagreement.

            The world-building in The Breeders is excellent: Beier has created a society that’s truly frightening in its excesses. It’s not just our world with a little gender flopping, but the strangeness of the story’s world made me wonder if that’s how it is for my gay friends sometimes—that you’re living in a world that wasn’t built for you. The villains are menacing, though distant, and a sense of hopelessness pervades the whole text as we watch these characters struggle against real and overwhelming odds. This is one book you should read twice.

            Highs: Atmosphere. The world Beier builds is genuinely dark and hopeless, filled with characters who, if not perfect, certainly draw you to root for them. Story-first approach. A lot of satirical stories can’t decide if they want to be all satire or tell a story, and Beier picks his direction and stays with it. He manages to tell a complete story in a world based off a ridiculous premise, which is much harder than it looks. Twist ending. I’m not going to spoil the book, but Beier delivers on what he’s foreshadowed all along.

            Lows: Uneven characterization. The characters feel a little too pure by the end of the book. I would have liked it if they'd had a few more, enduring flaws.

Did I like this story? Yes. Would I read it again? Yes. Would I recommend it to people who like science fiction? Yes. My rating? As sci-fi, five stars out of five. As a novel, four stars.

--Liz Ellor, O43

You can download The Breeders here

Book Review: The Forever Girl, by Rebecca Hamilton

            Continuing in the paranormal romance trend, this week we’ve got The Forever Girl, by Rebecca Hamilton. Witches, vampires, and shapeshifters all mix together in this well-told tale. Full of magic, history, and mystery, The Forever Girl is a perfect read for fans of Deborah Harkness’ A Discovery of Witches. It builds a clear-cut and well-defined world, featuring sexy inhuman men and heroines with secret powers. While the tone and pacing were excellent, The Forever Girl can be, at times, a little sterile and low-tension. If you like paranormal romance, this is the book for you. If you don’t, then you probably won’t like it at all.

This book has a lot of subtitles

            We begin by meeting Sophia Parsons, a young waitress who hears mysterious voices in her head. Don’t be confused—this isn’t a Sookie Stackhouse novel. Sophia’s a Wiccan. She’s been hearing these static-y voices for a long time now, but has finally decided it’s time to do something about them. Sophia decides to use a magical ritual to cleanse herself of negative energy, but her ritual is interrupted by a group of mysterious people walking up and down her street. Surprise, surprise, the voices go nowhere. So she turns to an old trunk of her great-grandfather’s medical research . . . and discovers an old court record prompting her to think her ‘curse’ might have something to do with her ancestor’s witchcraft trial.

            Sophia sets out to learn more about her ancestors and the possibility of a family curse, but is interrupted by her friend Ivory, who wants to take her to the mysterious Club Flesh. It’s there she meets the overly sexy, magically talented Charles—a man described in terms of ‘the perfect symmetry of his face’ and ‘this gorgeous specimen sitting before me’. When a bunch of Cruor—this story’s equivalent of vampires—attack Sophia outside the club, Charles comes to her rescue. She learns he’s a Strigoi—a shapeshifting creature who’ll live forever unless he stops shifting. When the inevitable romance blooms between them, this causes major problems for Sophia, who is determined to find a way to convince Charles to give up his immortality to grow old with her. As Sophia and Charles search together for information on her ancestor’s curse, they find themselves plunged into a world of supernatural intrigue.

            The Forever Girl is a good paranormal romance, but it did feel sterile at times. I had trouble connecting to Sophia’s character. Going back to the Sookie Stackhouse books, there’s a great example of creating a character with voice—a small-town girl who’s not afraid to fight a little dirty and gets exited when she realizes a vampire has come to town. Sophia’s a somber character. She can be brave, determined, and fierce, but she doesn’t really have the small quirks that make characters interesting. Her flaws include a tendency to get irritated, but that was never enough to make her feel human to me.

            The issue of Charles immortality aside, this romance is very clean cut and simple. I’m not a fan of romances that constantly force the potential lovers to oppose each other—it can be ridiculous when two people who spend so much time hating the other’s guts suddenly decide to be in love—but I’d wished there’d been more tension between them. Charles is such a perfect guy. He’s brave, loyal, and devoted. His parents absolutely love Sophia, despite the fact she’s trying to convince Charles to give up his immortality to be with her. Come on, this woman is trying to convince your son to die for her! There’s no way any parent would be one-hundred percent okay with that! A little less perfection in their relationship would have gone a long way to making it feel believable.

            Highs: World building. Hamilton creates a world with clear rules and easy-to-understand divisions. Tone. The book is polished and well-paced. Creepiness. There’s one scene involving a ghost that sent shivers down my spine. Story-telling. The book is well-written and tells an engaging, if simple, story. Side characters. Ivory’s tragic and twisted backstory is one of the real emotional high points in the story.

            Lows: Jumping to conclusions. Based on one document telling Sophia her ancestor was executed in Salem, she automatically decides that her hearing voices must be a family curse and the only way to rectify it might be to learn what happened to her ancestor’s body. This is a big logical leap. Repetition. Sophia repeats the line about not being able to be with Charles because he’s immortal over and over, but the audience really doesn’t need to be reminded of this on every single page.

Did I like this story? Yes. Would I read it again? No. Would I recommend it to people who like paranormal romance? Of course. My rating? As a paranormal romance, five stars out of five. As a novel, three and a half stars.

--Liz Ellor, O43

You can buy The Forever Girl here

Book Review: Armageddon Conspiracy, by John Thompson

            Well, it’s review number thirteen and I just got lucky. This week, I dove into the world of John Thompson’s Armageddon Conspiracy—a high-paced thriller jam-packed with action and intrigue, wrapped up in a knot of strong character development and sealed with a bomb. This story hits the ground running and never stops. Generally, this is the part of the intro paragraph where I point out the book’s flaws, but I can’t think of anything to put here.

Now this is a cover

             Armageddon Conspiracy starts with a bang as a bunch of bombs detonate in a New York subway system. The mysterious American who nervously caused the detonation retreats to his sanctuary where he engages in a little light snake-handling. He’s none other than Prescott Biddle, a Wall Street billionaire whose ‘god-given’ gift to predict the market has apparently caught the attention of the FBI.

            Our hero, Brent Lucas, is cajoled into going undercover at Biddle’s firm—the aptly named Genesis Advisors—to ferret out insider trading. What he finds is a whole lot worse. Apparently, Biddle believes it’s his Christian duty to bring about Armageddon. He’s working with a terrorist organization known as the Wahaddi Brotherhood in a plot to smuggle missiles into New York and then assassinate the president. But there’s a lot of laws they have to break to cover their tracks—and little does Brent know he’s been set up to take the fall. Soon Brent, his ex-girlfriend, and his cranky uncle are all caught up in a race against time to find the missiles and stop Biddle before his plan comes to fruition.

            Two things that really stood out to me in this story were the strong supporting characters and well edited prose. The interactions between Abu Sayeed—the Middle Eastern terrorist—and Biddle manage to be darkly humorous and extremely entertaining, and Abu Sayeed is so well written you almost want him to succeed. FBI agent Ann Jenkins, who’s picked the wrong week to quit smoking, acts as a grounding rod for the story even as things spiral out of control around her. Brent, the main character, does have a few moments of bland heroism, but otherwise I found his struggle to balance his desires to earn money and to have a fulfilling career pretty compelling.

            Highs: Establishing tension. Right off the bat, we’ve got a ton of compelling questions to ask—and we really want to see them answered. Supporting characters. As mentioned above, they’re both strong and interesting. The twists. I don’t want to spoil too much, but there were some moments that made my jaw drop. Use of POV. The narrative contains several different POVs, but all fit together well.

            Low: Character names. Introduces two characters named Fred in a row, and Brent and Biddle look pretty similar at a glance. Technical sex talk. What’s a mons verenis? Do I have one? Continuity issues. We see a major bomb attack in the prologue, hear Brent mention that one hundred people died in an attack the year before, but when Ann Jenkins requests more manpower for her division, she’s turned down because no major terrorist attack has occurred since 9/11. Do one hundred New Yorkers getting blown up in the subway count as a terrorist attack, or did the NYPD write it off as a mugging gone wrong?

Did I like this story? Hell yeah! Would I read it again? Yes. Would I recommend it to people who like thrillers? Of course. My rating? As a thriller, five stars out of five. As a novel . . . five stars. Looks like I found my first perfect ten.

--Liz Ellor, O43

You can purchase Armageddon Conspiracy here