Fans of the Noble Dead saga have watched Magiere discover her heritage, assist in rescuing an elven assasin, and constantly remain on the lookout for more vampires. Now, driven to recover a powerful talisman, she finds herself blindly following a mysterious dream to a castle somewhere along unknown trails. She must find the talisman before her half-brother, the vampire Welstiel, finds it first and uses it for untold evil. Readers will also see into the mind of one of the Undead, Chane, a “child” of the vampire Welstiel. Created by Welstiel, Chane owes him allegiance for the half-life he leads but finds that allegiance challenged in the days to come. The two sides are joined by a third, a powerful elven contingency who seek the talisman also to use it’s power to further their own agenda. All three collide at the mountaintop fortress that holds answers to questions raised throughout the entire series.

For a long and complicated series, the book is a quick read and easy to understand. The descriptions of the Undead and their practices are chilling and a bit unusual in this age of overdone vampiric clichés. There are a lot of characters with very odd names, which can make it difficult to keep them straight. (I would have appreciated a cast list but I realize that serious fans would not necessarily need such a crutch.) The elven casting was as expected, but the political byplay wasn’t. The power struggle between the three groups adds depth to what could have been a shallow story.

Readers definitely need to read the series in order, otherwise they will be lost from the beginning. The action starts right in the middle of the story where the last book left off. Many allusions are made to previous happenings and the events in this book gain significance by the experiences the characters have already weathered.

I appreciated the way the authors crafted the sense that Fate can be avoided for awhile, but eventually she catches up with you. Several characters in this story are pushing the limitations of their destiny, but each one will be called upon to finish their chosen task whether they want to or not. Sometimes the action became a bit repetitive but the grand finale was worth it.

The end of the book served as a bit of a teaser also, so I looked up the series’ website and discovered the authors are preparing to continue the saga by beginning a new series. The website suggests there will be a couple of characters carried over from this first series but that the action will happen on another continent. The first book in the series should come out around January, 2009.

"Micrographica" is a very small, square book. The original illustrations for the work were only a square centimeter because the author claimed that she didn't want to put too much detail into the drawings. When one considers the scale, the detail that is contained within these drawings is remarkable.

The illustrations have been enlarged for the graphic novel, thankfully, but though the art is small in format, as is the book, the title seems to be especially apt because the story is small as well. There are three main characters, Moe, Preston, and Aldo. Preston finds a crapball which he and Moe leave in the care of Aldo. Aldo manages to break the crapball while Moe and Preston are playing on a corpse and he goes in search of a replacement.

I definitely wouldn't recommend eating while reading this particular piece. It's certainly not for the weak of stomach. The protagonists are rats, with all of the disgusting connotation that simple word can imply. They're thrilled with their crapball, if not especially thrilled with the idea of sharing said ball with anyone.

While French took a break from her usually lush pencilwork, she certainly stayed in top form with melding pictures to story. Rather than description, the story is told entirely in character dialogue which occurs as picture captions. This clever device makes it impossible for the reader to divorce the pictures and words, which very much seems a hallmark of French's particular genius as a graphic storyteller.

It becomes a book that is difficult to read mostly because of the "ick" factor. Aldo is the only character who's even marginally likable and he's still a bit stomach turning because of his obsession with crap in general and the crapball in particular. He becomes the focus of the story as it becomes abundantly clear that some rats (Preston and Moe) will never change because they refuse to look beyond their comfortable little world.

A highlight of the book is a guest gallery of-what else?-crap drawings, which really ought to give you an idea of who you can recommend this book to.

Everyone knows a Preston and a Moe and an Aldo in their lives. They're easily relatable characters, so long as the reader doesn't have to identify too strongly with any of them (except, perhaps, poor pathetic Aldo). This makes "Micrographica" the kind of book to pass on to friends who are not easily offended and who have a possibly black or very odd sense of humor. (Come on, I'm sure that you know SOMEONE like that.) It's not a bad read, or a horrible book, but it's the kind of thing that requires a very particular taste in entertainment. You know who you are and I fervently hope those of you who haven't already find your way to this book.

A Sword From Red Ice brings us a long-awaited continuation of J.V. Jones' Sword of Shadows series. (Big thanks to Damon for sending me a copy!)

In the Northern Territories, the situation is rapidly growing ever more dire for all those living - the clans, the cityfolk and even the mysterious Sull people. Despite Raif Sevrance's successful healing of the breach in the Blindwall in A Fortress of Grey Ice - the Blindwall has been breached again. The Unmade are being gradually unleashed on the world of the living and no one is safe. Ash March continues on her journey to the Sull homeland and struggles to gain acceptance from her adoptive people.

Despite this, few are aware of the doom that faces them. The clans are in a state of disarray as the once-mighty Blackhail clan crumbles from the inside out - abandoned by the Stone Gods and invaded by unwelcome refugees from clan Scarpe. The Dhoonesmen have retaken their roundhouse from clan Bludd - leaving Bludd holding on to their precarious conquests of other clanholds. The Dog Lord has fled the Dhoonehouse and seeks to rally the remnants of his power even as he realizes the the true threat is from the Unmade. And an army approaching from Spire Vanis is on the verge of attacking the clanholds in this time of weakness.

If you're a fan of the series who hasn't read A Sword From Red Ice yet, I'm sure you're asking yourself the same question I did as I read the book: Was it worth the wait? The answer is: Yes and no. While a new addition to a great series is always welcome - "Sword" is a rather mixed bag.

The little touches I loved from the previous two books, like the snatches of clan history (seen here via the Blackhail guidestone):

The descriptions of the ever-present bitter cold that holds its own dangers:

These are all here, interwoven into the larger story. The characters I liked from the first two books are all here as well: the Dog Lord, Raif, Ash, etc., which keeps the story moving back and forth between their varied plotlines and presents a wide picture of the action occurring across the Northern Territories. There are a number of good moments as well - Bram Cormac's chance encounter with the Dog Lord early on in the book, for instance.


Unfortunately, "Sword" suffers from "Wheel of Time syndrome" - a long book that goes on and on without a huge amount of plot advancement, particularly in the first half. Once I got into the second half of the book, the story started moving a bit faster but it still drags out much more than it needed to. In particular, the subplots with Crope/Baralis and Effie Sevrance respectively are all but pointless here, especially Effie's story, which drags on and on with very little advancement.


We do see bits and pieces of the major plots moving forward - the forces from Spire Vanis finally attack the clanholds, the aftermath of Raif's actions at the Fortress of Grey Ice, Ash's travels to the Heart of the Sull, etc. - but even these plotlines are rather lackluster at times, Ash's and the Dog Lord's in particular. For me, I found it particular maddening to reach the end of a chapter and realize that very little had happened in the course of 10-20 pages.

It's truly unfortunate in the end, as Sword of Shadows was one of the few epic series I had high regard for and had been eagerly awaiting the next installment. That's not to say the book is entirely without merit as noted above but A Sword From Red Ice ultimately feels like a much shorter book stretched out into a 600+ page tome. I'm not soured on the series entirely, but I had much higher hopes for it thus far.

Hell is a setting but never quite a theme in Wayne Barlowe's debut novel God's Demon; this explains both the book's successes and its disappointments. At its best Barlowe's novel provides a fairly typical, quasi-medieval fantasy story -- in an infernal setting that evokes the primal otherness of games like Doom and Diablo. But with the novel emerging based on Barlowe's concept art for a forthcoming film adaptation of Milton's Paradise Lost and Barlowe's own interest in Dante's Inferno, God's Demon aspires to more. Unfortunately, Barlowe's attempt to include classic questions of punishment and redemption, freedom and divine will evokes admiration, yes, but also the sense that these questions never really mesh with the story he is telling. The result is a work that may yield some visceral pleasure for epic fantasy fans, but feels muddled in plot, characterization and theme.

As the story begins, God's Demon is very clearly a tale of two leaders and the cities they rule. Thousands of years after the Fall, the nominal capital of Hell, Dis, is a dirty cesspool of mistrust, torture and pain ruled with an iron fist by Lucifer's lieutenant Beelzebub the Fly (Lucifer himself having mysteriously disappeared after the Fall). Adamantinarx, ruled by the Demon-Major Sargatanas, is in contrast clean, orderly, and as permissively "enlightened" as is possible in Hell. Adamantinarx's "underlying openness was due solely to Sargatanas' will," muses Eligor, Captain of Sargatanas's Flying Guard: "there was a difference, a nobility to this demon." Eligor, as chronicler of the story, notes how Sargatanas always consulted "with each of his chief underlings," "encouraged a degree of leniency toward the souls in his keeping," and "promoted the growth of the Arts." Beelzebub and his allied Demons find Adamantinarx to be an uncomfortable reminder of what they lost in their Fall from Heaven and their failure to hold to their Angelic dignity; Sargatanas, who yet yearns for Heaven, believes that Hell must be reformed before any chance of a Heavenly return will be granted.

And then there is Lilith, former consort of Lucifer, now prisoner and unwilling plaything of Beelzebub. Barlowe's conception of Lilith echoes several folk traditions from the Middle Ages: she is both the ultimate object of sexual desire and also, as part of her creation and split from Heaven, a voice for rights and equality. While captive of Beelzebub she nevertheless launches her own quiet campaign that will break the détente between Dis and Adamantinarx. Thus the seeds of another war, a War for Heaven, are sown.

So, too, are the seeds of some of the novel's core problems. The fundamental differences in ideologies between the core characters too often turn them into mouthpieces: characterization is rather wooden in the core cast and undifferentiated in the secondary characters. With Sargatanas's "nobility" and "difference" from other Demons established from the start, he is never required to learn or grow in his single-minded drive to regain Heaven. (One might argue that expecting human character development in a Demon is a category error, but Barlowe's Demons are very human: they fear and hope, hate and love -- the latter even though their hearts have been symbolically ripped out.) Not only are we constantly told rather than shown when it comes to character attributes (as with Sargatanas's nobility), but what we are told often contradicts what we are shown. We are told that the thoughts of Adramalik, Beelzebub's Chancellor General, are "almost always of the here and now, and rarely" of the past -- shortly after several long remembrances. Sargatanas may encourage leniency toward souls, but this does not stop him from shaping sentient souls into the raw building blocks of his "enlightened" city; his "nobility" does not stop his ultimately self-centered drive to resume his place in Heaven.

Indeed, the politics of God's Demon are rather odd. Sargatanas is portrayed as an enlightened leader who strives to rule by consensus and to create an "open" city; he is pitted against the militant, autocratic Beelzebub. Yet Sargatanas also yearns to return to a Heaven that is a rigid autocracy. God is "the Throne" and is "surrounded by six-winged archangels, swords in hand, singing praises." When asked what he will do if allowed to return to Heaven, Sargatanas replies simply that he will "wash away this place" and then "will wait to be brought before the Throne." The "underlying openness" and "enlightenment" that define Sargatanas's conflict with Beelzebub, the possibility of dignity in Hell, are thus difficult to credit as core elements of his value system. This is especially true given the rather gaping plot hole that Sargatanas's quest initially is redemption for all his allies, but somehow, without mention or explanation, morphs into a quest of redemption for himself alone. Lilith, similarly, is presented as an advocate of "philosophies of tolerance" and "emancipation" toward the souls, a champion of their free will. Yet the statues of herself that she distributes to the souls to foster her "obvious message of hopefulness" engender visions in which the souls "worship" Lilith and "pray to her," "prostrate themselves before her" -- and these are hailed as "visions of freedom." The underlying message, that serving a higher being is better than (or perhaps the only true) freedom, is a matter of personal belief; what's problematic is the religio-ideological game of bait-and-switch created by these mismatches between story and theme.

God's Demon is better when it can be taken for a straightforward feudal fantasy. Barlowe's Hell has a strong medieval flavor: Beelzebub is Prince Regent of Hell; owing him fealty are the Demons Major (among them Sargatanas), each responsible for large areas of Hell; they in turn have a number of skilled Demons Minor as bondsbeings; and human souls serve the role of peasantry. Sargatanas organizes hunts for entertainment just as a noble Lord might; Demons fight with swords and bows (among other things), and ride on Abyssal cavalry. As an overthrow-the-unjust-ruler fantasy story, God's Demon can be read as a more militant take on some of the same elements that made Brandon Sanderson's Elantris popular: a relatively progressive leader; an original and intriguing magic system based on glyphs; a dash of romance.

And as mentioned earlier, what Barlowe does best is make Hell work as an epic fantasy setting. The base is the Hell of popular imagination: hot, dimly lit, shades of gray broken by fire. To this Barlowe adds an organic layer, cities that throb with a New Weird viscosity of biological systems and flesh.

 

Demons themselves likewise conform to the popular archetype -- big and red, winged and horned -- but Barlowe adds his own refinements to their physiology and magic. Combined with the setting and an assortment of monstrous creations, the strategy and tactics of the war between Sargatanas and Beelzebub give the battles between them a unique flavor.

 

Barlowe adopts a writing style that is an appropriate mix of "high" language, that feels slightly more formal than typical transparent prose, combined with word choices that emphasize the horrific and tortured setting. "Most of the meaty exteriors were punctured by a window" is here meant both figuratively and literally. Barlowe does occasionally let the language get away from him: excessive commas and clauses render some sentences needlessly vague, and others simply make no sense in context.

 

The plot and pacing are much the same: largely good but uneven. The pace of the novel is smooth after an initial jumble that covers thousands of years, solidifying into a three act structure with a satisfying ramp-up of politics and skirmishes before a large-scale final battle. There are several surprises that in most cases Barlowe smartly reveals earlier rather than later; the ending offers resolution, but also enough open ends to feel "realistic" and to permit a sequel. In addition to the thematic issues with the plot, there is one notable inconsistency (concerning what happens to infamous humans in Hell) and the book's ending turns on a somewhat unsatisfying "if character X could do that, why didn't they do it earlier?" moment. And with all matters of plot there is the unasked question of how much occurs by Divine plan as opposed to free will and coincidence; to what degree do we accept deus ex machina in a novel about Heaven and Hell?

God's Demon is ultimately a frustrating book. As a reader I want authors to be ambitious, to tackle big issues. I'd often rather read something that failed at being excellent than something that succeeded at being average. But in this case, the book's ambitions so consistently derailed the storytelling that I found myself wishing that Barlowe had either devoted far more time to making the themes work with the story, or had scaled back on the thematic links between his work and the classics. Barlowe clearly has the imagination and writing skill to be a notable author, so it will be interesting to see what shape his future projects take.

-- Matt Denault

Note: this review was based on an advance review copy; last-minute changes to the text may not be reflected in the selected quotations.

Written by a self-proclaimed geek, this is one twisted adventure full of hilarity, gut-wrenching action and gore. In a world bombed to (you guessed it) oblivion, five very different people are all that’s left of a small community on the edge of Florida. In a madcap race of survival, Vivian Gray struggles to bring the other four together to reach what may be a sanctuary somewhere in the distance. Not only do they have to scavenge for daily necessities, but they suddenly realize that there are other life-forms that see them as possible prey.

With shades of old-fashioned horror movies popping up here and there, you never know what to expect when you turn the pages of this book. The blend of pop culture and locker room humor somehow work, especially when placed on top of the fast-paced race to stay alive. Marcus Alexander Hart has found his niche in science fiction.

I was pleasantly surprised to see the development of the characters in this book. I was, by turns, laughing out loud or groaning in disgust. In spite of the their less-than-admirable traits, or should I say very human traits, the characters somehow captured my attention. I didn’t always like what happened but I kept reading, which is one mark of good writing.

Aimed at adults, the story contains cursing, adult situations and the pre-requisite gore. Oblivion Society is a non-stop romp that will satisfy readers looking for something different than the average story. Be prepared and have no preconceptions, this is one wild ride.

John Dies At The End began as a short story on author David Wong's website. Due to popular demand, it was expanded into a serial posted in installments and finally published in book form.

Featuring Wong himself as the narrator of his and the titular John's adventures, John Dies At The End takes place in a nameless Midwestern town. After being introduced to a mysterious drug - dubbed "Soy Sauce" due to the resemblance to same - Dave and John realize that an unknown evil is being unleashed on the world as an effect of Soy Sauce use. Due to the evidently permanent effects of Soy Sauce, they are the only ones who can act to stop it, much less even see the hideous things that stalk among their fellow humans. They will confront everything from malformed interdimensional horrors to things spawned of their own nightmares.

On the surface, John Dies At The End appears to draw a bit of inspiration from various sources like Stephen King's It, the classic 80s horror film From Beyond and even Ghostbusters - but Wong's imagination far outpaces even them. Every time I thought I'd seen it all, Wong invented something else - from the prologue featuring a creature spawned from the contents of a meat locker to the bizarre "flesh spiders".

I also enjoyed Wong's warped sense of humor - with everything from slapstick humor to sarcastic commentary coming into play as he narrates his and John's increasingly bizarre adventures. Despite this - the story does manage to accomplish a certain amount of terror at times. In particular, the idea that only Dave and John can see the things invading their world lends itself well to a number of particularly spooky moments - like the apparitions appearing in a reflected TV screen.

Granted, there are some parts of the story that don't quite work and with so much going on, Wong seems to have left some things unclear, like the purpose of the underground chamber beneath the Jamaican's trailer or the origin of Soy Sauce. However, Wong's afterword states a sequel is in the works - which may help clear up some of the mystery.

All in all, I'd have to say I enjoyed the book - it sets out to be entertaining without taking itself too seriously and accomplishes exactly that.

Punktown, on the planet Oasis. In this sprawling metropolis, a Lovecraftian evil is stirring - spreading its shadowy tentacles through the city. When his girlfriend discovers a copy of the Necronomicon - an ancient text reputed to summon the Great Old Ones - Christopher Ruby is thrust into a nightmare as his girlfriend falls prey to the dark forces unleashed. Fleeing into Punktown's underground, he searches frantically for clues to what his girlfriend has brought into the universe...

I have to admit I had trouble rating Monstrocity. On the one hand, the setting of Punktown itself is intriguing. However, the mythos underpinning the story doesn't fare as well. I liked the ideas Thomas came up with, but in the end, it doesn't stray far from its inspiration and the story feels a bit rushed. Additionally, the writing is serviceable if rough at times.

It's unfortunate, because Thomas does have some great material to work with and an evidently fertile imagination. In the end, I'd like to rate it higher but I feel like there's potential here that was a bit wasted on a retread of Lovecraft's work. Perhaps if the book had been longer, allowing more time to build up tension and focus more on the "evil city" feeling, that could have helped.

In the end, it's a nice effort and I'm interested to read Thomas's other Punktown work to see how it compares.

Resident Evil: Extinction by Keith R.A. DeCandido is the novelization of the movie by the same name, both based on the Resident Evil video game franchise. DeCandido is well known for his novelizations of many media intellectual properties including Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Command & Conquer, and Star Trek to name a few. Extinction marks the third volume in the movie series that DeCandido has written. Extinction follows popular characters Jill, Alice, and Carlos along with a new hero, Claire Redfield. The group of heroes make an attempt to reach the perceived safety of Alaska all the while fighting off the zombie menace, ruthless survivors, and of course the Umbrella Corporation.

Extinction takes a new path in the Resident Evil world: beyond Raccoon City. The T-Virus has been spread across the globe and the world is in a state of apocalypse. Survivors are scattered in tiny pockets, each one trying to fight off the zombies created by the Umbrella Corp. This is quite a departure from the first two novelizations that take place mostly in or under Raccoon City. At the time of the story, thought it is not stated exactly when it takes place, it has been years since the massive outbreak that eventually spread across the map. Food, ammunition, and just about everything else have become extremely scarce fueling feuds and infighting among the survivors. Some of the most dangerous things in the world are no longer the zombies. Extinction has a definite post apocalyptic feel to it and somewhat reminds me of Mad Max meets Land of the Dead mix with a little Painkiller Jane for good measure.

DeCandido continues with the solid characters from the first two films. Extinction doesn’t expand too much on character development. Since this is the third book in the movie series, the lack of development of some of the core characters isn’t as big a deal as it might have been if this was a stand alone novel. Not to be worried, if you haven’t read the other books or don’t know much about the Resident Evil franchise, you should still find the characters pretty well defined. Sure, there are plenty of the clichéd character archetypes present but they are well done and don’t come off as cheesy. The obvious star character is Alice the superhuman badass, but Jill is also an interesting character who fills the “loner” role. The only issue I see with any of the characters is the dialect used for the African American characters is all the same (despite the fact that they are not all form the same area) and over the top to the point of nausea, at times.

DeCandido’s style isn’t one that is likely to wow you , but it is surprisingly clean, quick, and easy reading. This book read especially quick given the writing style and the hardcover print size. The action scenes are well done and are laced from one end of the novel to the other , always keeping me alert and into the book. I was also impressed with DeCandido’s effort in writing a novel more akin to other zombie fiction currently available. He managed to make zombies and a setting that would do Romero himself proud. If there is anything to complain about I’d have to say that Extinction lacks the spine chilling and thrilling twists that would make it a truly great story.

As a hardcore zombie fan I can recommend this book to those with a love for zombies where I could not recommend the other Resident Evil novels. As a fan of post apocalyptic fiction I can recommend this book to those who enjoy dying worlds. Extinction is not a great novel, but the end to end action and stand alone nature of the story makes this fun and entertaining read no matter how much exposure you have to Resident Evil and its T-Virus.

Most of us have read a zombie story or two: some good, some bad, and others that made us wretch. We hear the word "zombie" and immediately think of the slow shambling dead of Romero's films. Many of these stories are clichéd and spin tired stories with typical plots, with typical characters, and with predictable endings. Roses of Blood on Barbwire Vines by D.L Snell is not one of those stories.

Roses of Blood brings together two of the more popular monsters in horror fiction today: Zombies and vampires. The story follows Shade (the vampire queen and daughter of the slain king), General Frost who is cold as his name would suggest, and Ann a human blood doll left deranged by the horror she has experienced. Shade fights to honor her fathers Kingdom (The City of Roses), while Frost pushes for relocation to the island to avoid the zombie hordes. Ann simply wants to survive, be free, and save her breeding slave sister. As the vampires attempt to fight off the zombies and keep there blood cattle (the humans) alive- betrayal, tragedy, and all-out fight for survival takes place.

The zombies in roses of blood are not your typical Romero style shamblers; they are the result of Nazi experiments. Instead of a virus, which is the common mode in zombie fiction these days, Snell's zombies are powered by parasitic creatures that infect the brains of their hosts. The parasites, tentacled Cthulhu like creatures, have appendages growing from the head of the bodies they invade. The zombies learn and adapt unlike most zombies and that makes them scarier.

Snell's vampires are akin to the vampires in Underworld, with amped up libido, one hell of a mean streak, and downright evil nature. They can be killed by wood spike or sunlight, but regenerate from most other injuries. Largely, the vampires are cruel and cold beings.

Humans are cattle used solely for their blood. Some are taken for breeding purposes and have their limbs amputated and are given a lobotomy. The Torsos, as they are called, are then placed in harness swings where they are breed. The non-breeding humans are used for feeding and repeatedly bitten and drained, but not to the point of death. The humans seem to have been dominated to the point of despair and have become docile pets of the vampires.

The novel takes place in "The City of Roses" which has been complete overrun with zombies leaving their fortified building as the only isle of safety. Snell does a great job weaving description of the setting in without being blatant, but instead by implication. I truly felt the sense of dread and hopelessness that is the existence of few remaining humans and vampires.

Roses of Blood's plot certainly hooked me and the action kept me on my toes. Gun-fu is the order of the day for the pistol, M-16, and Uzi toting vampires and the action scenes are excellently described. The pulse pounding action starts early and powers all the way through the novel. Fear not, if you are looking for character exploration and development, Snell wedged some of that in there as well.

It's hard to find a true weak spot in the novel because Roses of Blood is great example of a subgenre novel. However, I do have an issue with Snell's style. He describes it as a more poetic style ,and I can appreciated what he was trying to do, but in the end it just came off as a little overly metaphoric. The overuse of metaphors at times makes reading difficult and keeping track of what's going on a chore. It's not all bad though because, even if overused, the metaphors did add vivid images throughout the novel. The other minor complaint I have is that gratuitous sex in the novel is a bit off putting. I'm not against sex scenes in novels if they serve a purpose, but I could not find enough purpose to warrant the amount of sex represented. Indeed, Roses of Blood comes out swinging with a savage right hook of the erotic. If the erotic scenes in the beginning don't destroy your interest you should find the rest of the book quite enjoyable. After the first few chapters the sex tones down and the story gets back on the rails. I will admit that someone more into erotica will likely enjoy the same scenes that I found to be gratuitous.

Roses of Blood is a great new addition to the zombie and vampire subgenres. It's clear that this book should be an adult's only type of book with its absolute bestial, brutal nature and vivid sexual content. I can recommend this book to anyone who is looking for an excellent horror novel where zombies and/or vampires are not used in their traditional roles. Roses of Blood on Barbwire Vines is a hard charging action packed book where the cruel and unusual are the norm: I liked it!

Blood spilled on the asphalt of this town long years gone has left a stain, and it’s spreading.

Not that a thing like that matters to teenagers like George, Hector, Paul, and Andy. It’s summer 1983 in a northern California suburb, and these working-class kids have been killing time the usual ways: ducking their parents, tinkering with their bikes, and racing around town getting high and boosting their neighbors’ meds. Just another typical summer break in the burbs. Till Andy’s bike is stolen by the town’s legendary petty hoods, the Arroyo brothers. When the boys break into the Arroyos’ place in search of the bike, they stumble across the brothers’ private industry: a crank lab. Being the kind of kids who rarely know better, they do what comes naturally: they take a stash of crank to sell for quick cash. But doing so they unleash hidden rivalries and crimes, and the dark and secret past of their town and their families.

The spreading stain is drawing local drug lords, crooked cops, hard-riding bikers, and the brutal history of the boys’ fathers in its wake.

Over the course of his brief career Huston has very quickly become one of the top crime fiction writers. One of the things that is the most impressive about Huston's career so far is that he appears to be getting stronger with every new book.

In The Shotgun Rule, his first stand alone thriller, Huston pulls out all the stops. He uses every trick in his arsenal to full effect, while introducing some new ones as well. In A Dangerous Man Huston played with the dramatic tension in key scenes and the effect it had on the reader. By giving the conclusion to a scene in or near the beginning he doesn't allow us an effective way to release the tension that has built up; so we are left to carry it over to the next scene. Huston not only employs this technique in The Shotgun Rule but develops it further.

From the very beginning the book intersperses chapters of the kids casing a house that they are going to rob in the near future with chapters set in the present. This back and forth of the time line keeps the reader off balance and scrambling to catch up. Then with one fell swoop the dual story lines converge and close the first part of the book with one of the great reveals of all time. I found myself re-reading that moment more then once as I tried to come to terms with what he just did. More so then most other writers Huston shows a brazen willingness to yank the rug out from under his characters and his readers.

Another way that Huston manages to throw us off balance in tense situations is by abruptly switching the POV in mid-action sequence. He does this quite a few times and the outcome is quite unsettling. Right as you are settling into the skin of a character and the natural flow and rhythm of a scene as it unfolds you are jolted out of whatever comfort zone you have created. The effect leaves you spinning around and around so fast that you dont see the punch coming that knocks you flat on your ass.

Huston is a master of creating and maintaining dramatic tension. There are few that do it better. Most books start out on 11, back off after that initial burst to create back story and develop characters then slowly ramp back up to that first energy level. Huston manages to introduce back story and character development too but he does it all at full speed. There are no breathers, no pauses for reflection and no false back story moments that only exist to serve the present action.

One of his new tricks is to literally freezes the action in a tableau that gives us a quick snapshot of each of the SEVEN POV's involved. We are given a glimpse of what they are thinking and what they are about to do and just as suddenly as he stops the action he starts it back up again at full speed leting it all snap into place. The sudden perception of speeding up the action is incredible.

The Shotgun Rule has a pretty good sized cast of characters and they are all developed fully and given their own identity. One of the characters that we come to know much more about is one of the fathers, Bob. In the movie The Patriot there was a fantastic scene where Mel Gibson hatchets a man to a gruesome and bloody death in front of three of his children. Its a telling scene because he had been a solider who had fought in brutal wars who retired to a life of quiet seclusion and his family had only ever known him as this quiet, composed, quiet guy who didn't want to get involved in anything especially another war. But in that moment his children see for the first time this other side of him, the one filled with a berserker’s fury and an insatiable blood-lust. Bob we come to realize has a past. When his sons are in trouble Bob lets the beast out of the cage to help them. As we learn what he is capable of he goes from being a strict father to a very frightening figure whose shadow looms large over the second half of the book.

The setting of California in the early 80's is just as realized as the characters. From the music being listened to the importance of the BMX bike in the lives of the kids to the effects of the punk movement as it started to trickle out west to the afterimage of the fading 70's as the 80's and the next generation started to stake out its own identity. The story takes place on the cusp of a change. The older generation of characters refuses to accept that they are getting older; the younger generation aren't kids any longer as they come into their own. In the aftermath everyone will be different; some for the better and some not but I think that it’s safe to say that it’s a summer that none will ever forget.

Charlie Huston's first standalone book may just be his best one yet.

--Brian Lindenmuth

Michael McGill is a burned-out private detective and self-described "shit magnet" who is enlisted by the White House Chief of Staff to retrieve the Constitution of the United States, not the one taught about in history class but the REAL Constitution. The one with invisible amendments held in secret and meant to be used in a time of moral crisis to return the country back to more traditional values. The current presidency believes that time is now, but they have a problem. The book was lost 50 years ago and needs to be recovered. That's where Max comes in and his search for the missing constitution will lead him across the country and deeper into the shadows of America on a job that "started out weird" and turned "scary".


As far back as the Transmetropolitan series Ellis has worn his Hunter S. Thompson influence openly and on his sleeve. The main character from that series, gonzo journalist Spider Jerusalem, was nothing short of a fully realized future descendant of the good Doctor. From the look, to the shared maniacal gleam in their eyes, to the varied and excessive drug use no one would dare deny the lineage between the two. In the series there were other links between Thompson's and Ellis' works that included visual references and direct placement.


With Crooked Little Vein he still maintains that Thompson connection in many ways. For example in 1985 Thompson wrote a column called Nixon and the Whale Woman that was later collected in Generation of Swine. In it Thompson wrote:

Early in the book when the Chief of Staff recounts for McGill the origins and history of the alternate constitution we find out the specifics of when and how it was lost.




One of the prevailing themes of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas was the death of the 1960's and the state of the American Dream. What’s explored in Crooked Little Vein is the idea that the American landscape is in the midst of a pole shift due in large part to the proliferation of the Internet. What’s voiced throughout the book is the notion that if those ideas/acts that once resided on the fringe now are readily accessible then the fringe is now the mainstream.


The groups engaging in these fringe practices (including but not limited to tantric ostrich sex and Godzilla bukakke) trade the book from one to another and this is the trail of clues that that McGill follows. The very book that could reset the national thought process acts as a totem for these groups. By controlling it they maintain an environment that is conducive for their actions. What's partly on display here is an exploration of freedom in America and the warts and all approach to freedom that is its purist form. In an update of Voltaire's often atributed quote I can honestly sit here and tell you that I will never inject a saline solution into my balls for any reason but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn't have the right to do so.


Ellis brings to this funhouse mirror exploration an outsiders view since he is not an American, but it is in these distorted images that a sharp satire emerges. What at first seems to be an exaggeration reveals itself to be much closer to reality then maybe we would sometimes like to admit. In the following example McGill is listening to a local radio station:




The center piece for Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas is what is now known as the wave speech. It acted as a summary and commentary of themes and the calm eye of the storm for that book. Crooked Little Vein has its own version of the wave speech that comes at about the halfway mark. While flying to Las Vegas McGill finds himself having a rather calm and lucid conversation with an indignant serial killer who, among other things, is upset at the way that the media is portraying him. Not only is this man presented as a voice of reason but he outlines one of the major themes of the book.




Thompson's wave speech ends with the most memorable line and one of the most well written passages of the book.




As McGill's makes his entrance into Vegas he hits the same exact point where the high water mark is almost visible, except that now, 35 years later, he sees something else. It too is one of the more memorable and better written passages in the book.




As the book winds down and McGill closes in on the constitution he realizes the amount of power that he now wields and he has to make a monumental decision. The end of the book is one that will have fans of Alfred Besters classic novel The Stars My Destination cheering as Ellis has McGill channel and then become a modern Gully Foyle.


Crooked Little Vein displays the full spectrum of Warren Ellis' imagination. As the story propels along at a machine guns pace he never loses sight of the central story arc. Any one page contains multiple images and ideas that a lesser writer would have been tempted to focus on and develop into a bland inconsequentiality. But here, in their brevity, they retain their razor sharp focus as well as another layer of enjoyment.


Not only will our protagonist stay in a Las Vegas hotel built in the shape of Christ the Redeemer dressed as Uncle Sam but we find dozens of other passages like these that make us smile, shake our head and almost wish they were developed further.






It should be noted that there is an overall pattern to the book that fans of Ellis will recognize. His protagonists tend to be intelligent, damaged people carrying some baggage. The protagonist always has a sexy (which doesn’t take away from her toughness) female assistant. Weird situations are explored and the cutting edge of technology is utilized. It is in this basic framework that Ellis constructs his fiction and is the style he has developed. But just because a style is recognizable does not mean that it is less enjoyable.


I can't recommend Crooked Little Vein enough.


Brian Lindenmuth

Pearce, an ex-con and Edinburgh hard man who’s still recovering from the recent loss of his mother, is invited by the dysfunctional Baxter family to protect their pregnant sixteen-year-old daughter from her martial-arts-expert husband, Wallace, a man ten years her senior with a penchant for killing family pets. Having found out that the baby’s not his, Wallace has sworn vengeance. Pearce declines the job: He’s no babysitter. But when Wallace kills Pearce’s dog, he goes too far. Now it’s personal.


Revenge is part of the grieving process. But has Pearce finally met his match?


Time to find out who the real hard man is.


Over the course of 8 blood soaked chapters that all take their names from movies, Hard Man unfolds with a savage intensity. The movie titles used will cleverly act as epigraphs for the chapters.


Hard Man is divided pretty clearly into two parts. It’s during the first part that we will be introduced to the Baxter clan and their situation with Wallace. Their opening gambit to scare Wallace fails miserably and they decide to attempt to enlist the help of Pearce. Pearce, a character from Guthrie’s debut novel Two-Way Split, is as the title suggests a hard man. But he is also a man who is, by his very nature, more reactive then proactive so he refuses the job. The full dysfunctionality of the Baxter's will slowly become evident as we witness their machinations to not only get rid of Wallace but to make further attempts to enlist the aid of Pearce.


It will be one of these further attempts that sets into motion the final full throated berserker yell that is the second part.


But before we get to the second part I think that it’s important to note Hard Man's humor. Dark, gallows humor to be sure but humor none the less. Guthrie is a savvy enough writer to pepper his tale with a healthy dosage of humor so that it offsets the violence. It acts as a counter measure that prevents the book from becoming oppressive. It also heightens the tension of the more serious moments. The result is a potent and heady blend of comedy and violence that will have you laughing out loud at times, even if you feel guilty for doing so.


An early scene from the book provides a good example of the humor in Hard Man.

Now for that second part. At some point the narrative goes right over the edge and it’s this final free-for-all, oh-shit-the-brakes-have-been-cut-and-we're-all-going-to-die section that will go down in history as the classic that it is. It really does have to be read to be believed as it becomes a kind of noir passion play.


I don't think that I've read a sustained conclusion to a book as breathtaking as this one in a long time.


The second half also plants Hard Man firmly in the tradition of Grand Guignol. When the whole of the book is considered it becomes clear that Hard Man and the plays of the Grand Guignol have a number of shared traits.


The Grand Guignol theatre specialized in plays that had a grim outlook of the world, an outlook not entirely dissimilar to the one found in Hard Man. They became world renown for their horror plays which utilized realistic special effects and a close proximity of the audience to produce an effect that horrified and compelled the audience to watch. But horror plays weren't the only type shown; in fact an evening at the theatre would find alternating shows of horror and comedy much like the alternating scenes of comedy and violence in Hard Man. The calling card for the style was the climaxes of the horror plays. They were notorious for being over the top in their bloody, outlandishly gruesome and violent depictions; Hard Man's climax is at times all of these. Lastly plays at the Grand Guignol often dealt with an altered state of consciousness that resulted in a loss of control, extreme panic, hallucinations and even insanity. One character in Hard Man is going to experience all of these and be put through the wringer more then any of the others.


In short I feel comfortable calling Hard Man an outstanding piece of crime fiction and a modern Grand Guignol masterpiece.


A quick mention should also be made that there is no attempt made to Americanize the text of Hard Man. The locale and the language are left intact from the UK edition. It's to the publisher’s credit that this was left unchanged.


--Brian Lindenmuth

Dragon Head Volume 1 by Minetaro Mochizuki is a fresh, gory, and disturbing look at what can happen when panicked teenagers are left up to their own devices. If Dragon Head could possibly have a hero the title would most likely befall Aoki Teru, a precocious young student on his last class trip before he has to dedicate himself to the much dreaded and ever looming exams awaiting him upon his arrival home. After borrowing music from a fellow classmate Teru returns to his seat and the next thing he knows he is crouched on the ground, crunched between two smashed seats and the ground crying out. Trying to comprehend what could have happened to cause the carnage before his eyes. Teru's entire train car full of friends and classmates has been battered and as far as he knows he is the only survivor. If that were not enough to destroy whatever hope he had left, he sets out to find out what happened to his train. After acquiring a flashlight Teru discovers the tunnel his train was traveling in has collapsed. He is trapped.

After this new discovery Teru also stumbles upon the fact that there appear to be two surviving schoolmates along with himself. A mysterious girl whom Teru rescues after finding her unconscious and bleeding and Takahashi Nobuo, a quick tempered boy who may or may not have taken Teru's flashlight and claimed it as his own.

As the book progresses we learn more about the two other survivors and how they can each individually cope with such a predicament. Nobuo, the quick tempered boy seems to be fitting his first impression nicely as things move along as he often seems to phase in and out of sanity and depression. This could possibly foreshadow things to come from him in future volumes. The mysterious girl eventually comes to thanks to Teru's first aid and introduces herself as Seto Ako. Ako is another of Teru's classmates and seems to have some kind of crush on Teru after he saves her. This will most likely not sit well with Nobuo who upon first meeting Ako is covered from head to toe in blood yet still finds time to comfort his new companion.

The dialog in much of Dragon Head is smart and well placed for the situations at hand. Not only does Mochizuki pen the dialog for the story, he also does all of the art. In this case he can be commended as the art itself is dark yet beautiful; it perfectly conveys the helplessness and terror the characters are experiencing on their tormenting journey in discovering what is left of their classmates and life after the crash. Mochizuki does an extraordinarily fine job on representing the frustration the fellow students feel as they encounter hardship after hardship with no sign of relenting.

The events that take place in the first volume of Dragon Head are shocking to say the least, from page one where Nobuo is shown in all his blood soaked glory until the final page of previews for the next volume. However, it does not deliver a strong enough appeal to first time readers nor enough substance in the cohesion of dialog and character's actions to have a strong recommendation. If on the other hand, you enjoy a dark and introspective look at the minds of three teenagers and how they could possibly grapple with the demise of all their friends and the inevitability that they may never again see their families, then pick up Dragon Head Volume 1 and relish in their anguish.

~Jason Fahey

In the near future, the hideous plague known as The Blight has swept across Earth like wildfire, killing a massive segment of the population with a particular blood type, leaving only scattered pockets of survivors across the planet. In the ensuing anarchy dubbed the Cull by plague survivors, the remnants of humanity struggle for survival. A cult known as the Apostolic Church of the New Dawn (or the Neo-Clergy) has risen, offering "salvation" to its followers and demanding their children in return, and vicious street gangs have carved out their own territories in the rubble of the cities as they squabble endlessly over resources.

In the wreckage of London, a nameless British ex-soldier hijacks a Neo-Clergy plane bound for New York City, intent on a mission known only to him. Meanwhile, a young man of the Native American Iroquois tribe is sent on a mysterious mission to New York by the tribal elders.

The Culled immediately calls to mind Richard K. Morgan's Takeshi Kovacs novels, with the story told in first person by the tough-talking ex-soldier protagonist plunging head-first into a gritty world where no quarter is asked and none given. The blasted wastelands of London and New York City are vividly rendered in grimy detail and the action is fast and furious, with blood, guts and explosions aplenty.

Unfortunately, the plot suffers from an unclear motivation for most of the major players, in particular the protagonist. Up until the end, his reason for hijacking the plane and laying waste across New York isn't clearly explained and even then, it seems rather thin and tacked-on, as does the Iroquois nation's reasons for helping him. Still, the author's fantastic eye for description and action helps to carry the story along at a fast pace and overshadows the plot issues.

The previous books I've read from the Abaddon imprint weren't that impressive, but The Culled manages to step up a few notches, in my opinion.

Dreadful Skin by Cherie Priest isn't a full-fledged book, but rather a collection of three separate novellas that suitably co-exist with one another. The first part, "The Wreck of the Mary Byrd," originally serialized at Subterranean Press and available online, introduces us to a handful of characters and launches them into a frightful midnight descent down the Tennessee River. A werewolf—Jack Gabert, fleeing from India—is on board, and the captain, the slave cook, the gambler, and the gun-toting nun all get in its way. This is the story of a ship's last night, told by each of them that watched it fall under attack. Truthfully, of them all, this is really Eileen Callaghan's undertaking, and it's brimming with enthused vivacity that grabs the reader by the heartstrings and never lets go.

Priest's two finest traits are as sharp as Jack's teeth in Dreadful Skin's opening act—characters and setting. Having previous experienced the south in her Eden Moore novels, Priest glides through the locale, hitting all the marks that make this experience moodier and moodier with each turn of the page. Everyone talks the way they should, the language representing the time period quite well while also giving each character a certain level of charm and/or spice. Eileen's view point is the most interesting as it's clear that she and Jack have some history together. The gambler, Christopher Cooper, made for a sort of quiet man, the kind that you have to watch just because you're never sure what they might do at any moment.

Of the three sections of Dreadful Skin, "The Wreck of the Mary Byrd" was my favorite, simply for how undaunted Priest was in throwing her characters into the worst of worse situations and letting them resolve it in their own manners. The writing and pacing is top-notch, showing why Priest is quickly becoming a household name in the field. Well, dammit, she at least should be.

Following this was a more tepid piece, "Halfway to Holiness," with Eileen still chasing after Jack after the events on the Mary Byrd. Heading to Holiness, Texas, she's a changed woman. She's caught wind about a traveling revivalist camp with a less-than-godly Reverend Benjamin Aarons steering it along. This part is all about building up to an ultimately predictable encounter, but Priest keeps things interesting along the way. Eileen forms a new relationship Leonard Dwyer, a man who'll become integral in the final act of all things.

I, surprisingly, enjoyed the final part of Dreadful Skin. "Our Lady of the Wasteland and the Hallelujah Chorus" is presented as a series of letters and diary/journal entries. Normally, this sort of narrative structure turns me off as I spend too much time dissecting the letters and crying, "What? No one writes letters like this!" After the first few though, I lost myself in them. They play out just as exciting and suspenseful as the POV chapters in "The Wreck of the Mary Byrd." Granted, this last section could have been written in much the same manner as the first two novellas, but I suspect Priest wanted it to be different on purpose. The letters reveal that Melissa, a love of Leonard's, is stuck within a revived traveling camp, this time run by Reverend Aarons's son Daniel. Leonard writes to Eileen, asking for her help again. She comes again, now fully devoted to ending the existence of these ravenous beasts that prey on the members of the revivalist camp.

Sprinkled throughout the text are some black-and-white drawings by the original Green Mile artist, Mark Geyer, which really help to establish the look of certain scenes. They have a loose "sketchiness" to them, which kind of gives the book a certain amount of credibility. The story is set in the past so it'd seem ridiculous to have colorful Photoshop-ed pieces throughout. Kudos to whoever thought that out. If no one, then kudos to me.

One aspect I did notice was that Eileen Callaghan shared some similiar traits with Eden Moore from Priest's Four and Twenty Blackbirds and Wings to the Kingdom: she's a strong if independent woman, feisty with just the right pinch of attitude, and able to hold in the secrets that others might be put off to know. Not that this is a bad thing, just something I noticed. Funny how close an Irish ex-nun and a ghost-hunting girl can seem when placed in similiar hair-raising situations. Hopefully in future work, her women protagonists will be more than just a new version of the same old same old.

Still, Priest shows with Dreadful Skin that she's both a versatile wordsmith and storyteller, and most comfortable in the south where the ghosts and ghouls roam wildly. If you enjoyed Priest's other work, Dreadful Skin is highly recommended.

-- Paul Abbamondi