The actress Adrienne Barbeau, probably best known for the ‘70s tv series Maude and more recently the HBO series Carnivale, teams up with prolific author Michael Scott (his YA novel The Alchemyst is being made into a movie) to write her second novel, Vampyres of Hollywood: a modern tale of vampires, murder, and the movie-making business.


This novel differs from other tales of that bloodsucking creature of the night in that it claims that Hollywood was essentially created by vampires. After all, it provides the perfect environment for them. It allows them to satisfy their narcissism and it gives them a means to perpetuate all of those fallacies and even create some new ones, like having no reflections, in order to keep the true nature of their existence from being discovered.

Vampyres of Hollywood opens with a murder, and the subsequent chapters alternate between the first person point of views of Osvanna Moore, legendary horror film actress and studio head, and Peter King, the detective with movie-star good looks and a penchant for nice clothes (he is, after all, working the Beverly Hills beat.) But one murder quickly becomes several murders, and all of the victims are somehow linked to Osvanna.


From Osvanna’s point of view, we are given glimpses into her long and rich past from her relationship as body guard, friend and occasional lover to Catherine the Great to that of muse to Van Gogh. We learn that many great historical events and persons were somehow related to vampirism like Jack the Ripper and the fall of Pompeii. Barbeau and Scott manage to make it all seem plausible, and it works mostly because the novel doesn’t strive to take itself too seriously.


Through Detective King’s investigations, we are introduced to more than a few interesting characters. His tenant, SuzieQ (that’s her real name, it says so on her driver’s license) is an exotic dancer, snake wrangler, and sounding board for the detective, often offering insightful comments and useful insider information (Hollywood is a small town, you know.) Since the suspect in this case has been dubbed The Cinema Slayer, we are introduced to his mom, who knows the movie industry inside and out. She once had aspirations of being an A-List actress, but was always relegated to roles such as “girl in the bar”, “woman in the bar, and “woman behind bars.” Eventually, her penchant for saving movie set mementos and collecting signed film scripts paid off when eBay provided the perfect venue for selling those mementos. Then there’s John Trueblood who stands at 6’8” and goes by the nickname Little John. He’s an ex-convict and ex-professional wrestler, tattoo artist and parlor owner, and avid collector of movie memorabilia (he‘s one of Mrs. King’s best customers.) These folks may be secondary characters, but they add interest and color to the story in addition to helping move King’s case forward.


Minor inconsistencies (vampires don’t feel the cold, but in one scene Osvanna feels “Brittle cold but no pain.”; it’s pointed out that vampires can be seen in mirrors because of the laws of physics yet no mention is made of those same laws when they change into animal forms) and a tendency to state the obvious do little to detract from the fact that this is a briskly paced and entertaining story that doesn’t pause long enough to give the reader time to worry too much about these minor criticisms. There are plenty of references to the Hollywood of yesteryear as well as currently running shows to appease most movie and television buffs. There are scenes of gore and a grand finale of flesh-eating to give horror fans something to wince about. In the end, Vampyres of Hollywood provides a fitting metaphor for Hollywood’s movie industry as well as a vampy, campy fun read.


Since I don't have the option of rating this book something between a 6 and 7, I gave it a 7.


(This review refers to the Advance Uncorrected Proof.)

The Shadow Pavilion, the fourth in the Detective Inspector Chan adventures certainly carries through with the promise of an entertaining read. DI Chen, Shanghai Three’s Police Liaison with Heaven and Hell, is after whatever group is illegally bringing in residents of Hell as cheap labor. He has two of the best working on it when they disappear. Seneschal Zhu Irzh is not only a demon but a terrific operative in his own right and was sent in with Badger, who can take care of himself. Now Chen has to find out where they’ve gone and still get to the bottom of the issue. It doesn’t help when he finds out that the newly crowned Celestial Emperor is under an attempted assassination and that a shortcutting scriptwriter has imported a Tiger demon to impersonate a movie star and that she is now on the loose and in a starlet-sized snit.

Liz Williams has created an interestingly enjoyable fantasy/scifi/adventure. This one sort of defies classification as Singapore Three is futuresque but with her addition of the realms of Hell and Heaven and all their dream- and nightmarescape denizens, the tale takes on a mythological bent that makes for fascinating reading. She has begun to flesh out some of the secondary characters more – we get to see from the perspective of Badger, a Hellish family familiar with fierce loyalties to Chen and his wife; we also get a little more perspective from the Celestial Emperor; as well as Chen’s wife Inari. As usual we have some new secondary characters, new demons, foolish humans, and the most successful assassin of all time to keep us amused.

With all due speed Williams draws us into the intrigue, imbuing our imaginations with vivid images full of color and scent that make her stories come alive. With this descriptive skill she lures us in. Then, like the sticky strands of a spider’s web, we get trapped and held by a story that is so full of life we cannot even decide what to call it. Is it futuristic police procedural? Is it an allegorical fairy tale? Near future occult? Perhaps an alternative historical fantasy? Whatever you would like to call it, I’ll just call it something I want more of. Fans of the previous three will not be disappointed.

Almost two years ago when I reviewed Ford’s collection The Empire of Ice Cream for FantasyBookSpot, I noted that Botch Town was my favorite of the bunch. It was something of a mystery story meshed with a coming of age story that had a feel of the “fantastic” about it.


So when I began reading The Shadow Year which is based on that novella, it was evident I was reading a very familiar story, but I didn’t mind because I had enjoyed the original so much. But The Shadow Year isn’t just a re-telling of Botch Town. Ford expands on his original story, makes some major changes to it, adds a significant character, and then continues on to a much more resolute ending.


At the same time that little Charlie has disappeared, a Peeping Tom has been making the rounds in this neighborhood and a stranger trawls the streets in an old white car. All of these occurrences seem likely to be related, and Jim recruits his brother and sister as well as George, the family dog, to gather clues and investigate.


The focus of The Shadow Year is as much on these mysteries as it is on family, and that is where Ford expands on the original story the most. Dad works three jobs and is seldom seen by the kids, Mom is an artist and an alcoholic, Nan and Pop are the grandparents who live in the converted garage, and George, the aforementioned family dog, is protector and scent marker. The youngest child, Mary, is either “really smart or really simple”, Jim is the oldest and in the seventh grade and does a good job of bossing and generally harassing the other kids. The book’s narrator is the middle child, a self-described weakling, but who is never actually named in the entire book (or the original story.)


Ford’s portrayal of this family and its dynamics evokes feelings of compassion and even understanding as he describes here a scene in which you get the feeling this has happened all too often before and will be repeated all too soon:

There is a lot going on in The Shadow Year, and Ford moves the story effortlessly through such accounts of family life to the disquieting effects of the prowler’s appearances in folks’ backyards and a stranger in a white car (also the prowler?) whose presence is somehow sinister and alarming.


But things are kept in balance with humor as we see the grandmother through the eyes of the young unnamed narrator:




And as when Jim gives Mary some Halloween advice:




By the end of The Shadow Year, the mysteries are solved, and if there is any flaw to be found in this book, that may be the one: the neatness of its conclusion. Nonetheless, Jeffrey Ford has written a captivating novel of a year in the life of a young boy. The characters have that feeling of authenticity that makes them instantly recognizable, and the story has that feeling of nostalgia without any of the sugary sentimentality.

We awaken with Tynan Llywelyn from a hundred year's Sleep. Tynan is no Rip Van Winkle, however, but a powerful vampire who is not eager to return to the vampire community who shunned him. The world that greets him is vastly different than what he left behind. Society has crumbled and humanity is being controlled by a domineering techno-government called the Tyst. A small group of rebels, the Phuree, are fighting back as best they can. The Phuree have taken a radical step in allying themselves with the Predators who feed off them - the vampires. Tynan finds himself embroiled in a power struggle between vampire and human players alike.

I knew I was in for an incredible read when I became captivated by the Acknowledgments page. Ms. Faust's talents as a wordsmith far surpass anything I have read in some time. Her depiction of vampires is a delicious exquisiteness that at times had me running my tongue over my teeth to insure fangs had not appeared! She creates these beings with a deft hand, stitching common myths together with her singularly modern twist, providing a seamless and completely believable existence.

Next to such thoroughly real characters, the Tyst and Phuree pale by comparison. The Tyst are nameless and faceless; although characters are mentioned we never really get to know them. These are the Big Bad Guys, yet they seem completely untouchable and almost nonexistent. The Phuree are also a bit out of reach. Teirnan, their leader, and his sister Khanna are stereotypical and rather predictable. They appear small and ineffective somehow. This book is the first in a series, however, so perhaps the next installment will focus more on the other characters. If Faust can bring them to reality as she has her vampires, this will be a knockdown-dragout favorite!

The overall sensation of the story is very focused on Tynan, his tough and (unusual for the Living Dead) his emotions. In fact, Tynan's emotions are a pivotal point of the entire storyline. Faust captured his moral writhing quite well. He is struggling with a moral crisis, one that led him to abandon his Dark Brethren and sink into Eternal Sleep. But his despair only kept him for one hundred years, not forever. With prose the texture of deep velvet, Faust draws us down to the depths of a story as old as fear, as dark as sin, and as deep as Satan's heart. The lines between friend and foe are re-drawn. She captures desperate obsession and hunger, outlining each with the passion for existence that burns in all beings.

In spite of a lack of character development in some areas, I was very impressed with Gabrielle Faust and Eternal Vigilance. I eagerly devoured the book from cover to cover in one sitting and felt bereft when I was finished. This is not an airy-fairy, "rescue the damsel"-type of story. Gritty and dark, readers will begin to understand the "un"life of a vampire.

Fans of Asimov will recognize the bare bones of later works in Pebble in the Sky, his first published fiction novel. This story takes place many years before the Foundation series and contains some hints of these stories yet to come. The Galactic Empire has spread and continues to grow in all directions. Trantor is the capital and central world of the Empire, operating a massive bureaucracy from its political hub. At this time, however, Earthlings are still living on the surface of the planet and are isolated from the rest of the human population. Planetary prejudice and political unrest have reinforced this separatist notion, making Earth a backwater assignment no imperial servant wants.

Life on Earth is hard. There are limited resources and the suspicion of radiation poisoning colors everything. Society is run by a quasi-religious order that enforces the life limitation of sixty years, ostensibly to make room for others who are being born. Many seem content to live only sixty years, but others are always on the lookout for ways to avoid the mandated euthanasia.

Into this world drops (literally) Joseph Schwartz. Due to an unfortunate accident in a nuclear lab in 1949, Mr. Schwartz is thrown forward in time by millennia and finds himself living in an ultra-modern Earth. Not as easy as it seems, as language has continued to evolve and he can’t understand anything. In addition, humanity itself has physically evolved which makes Schwartz an ancient version of unknown homo sapiens. Even worse, Schwartz is 62 - two years past the enforced Sixty rule and destined to die.

This is not a dark, dystopic story, however, and is infused with Asimov’s usual intelligent humor. Political maneuvering and scientific discoveries go hand-in-hand as Schwartz makes new friends and struggles to survive. The Empire is forced to recognize Earth as a power to be reckoned with, but this may or may not be good for the Earthlings in general and Schwartz in particular.

Asimov was truly a master, delineating the scope of science fiction as a genre. He breathed intelligence and real science into his fiction, making his writing one of the best examples of what true science fiction is. His characters are believable, some likeable and others not, and somehow he always works a twist into the plot where the reader least expects it. Even more, Asimov pushes the readers to examine both self and society. He seems to want readers to acknowledge the negatives of humanity and then celebrate the positives. That which makes us as humans great can also be that which causes us to destroy ourselves.

If you are a fan of Asimov, you should read his first scifi book Pebble in the Sky. If you have never dabbled into Asimov, or any science fiction for that matter, dip a toe into this book. I think you might find the water is just to your liking!

David Rice, abused by father and abandoned by mother, suddenly discovers he has the unusual ability to “jump” - miraculously transporting himself and anything he is holding to wherever he pictures in his mind. Using his ability to escape his father, he struggles to survive in a world without job, ID, personal history. Life without personal connections is cold and lonely, though. The temptation to settle down calls to him and, in giving in, he captures the attention of the establishment. Throughout his attempts to avoid the long arm of Big Brother, he tackles terrorism and his relationship with his parents.

Readers familiar with Griffin’s Tale may feel a bit disoriented while reading Jumper. Written in 1992 and re-released this year to coincide with the production of the movie Jumper by 20th Century Fox, Jumper the book sustains a few alterations before making it to the big screen. Griffin is not in the book Jumper but is only a character created for the movie, hence the book Griffin’s Tale written not too long ago to establish the character before the movie was released. Readers shouldn’t avoid this book for this reason, however. Just know that the book is different from the movie, as usual.

I found the concept of jumping interesting and had high hopes for the book. To quote Stephen Gould, “Teleportation is, I hope, a classic trope of science fiction, and not a cliché.” I agree, but even classic tropes need good stories with well-explained back stories in order to shine. Unfortunately, Jumper leaves much to be desired when examined with a critical eye.

Here is a young boy, abandoned and abused, trying to make it on his own. Whenever he meets a struggle, “poof”, he disappears and goes somewhere else. He does deal with some very uncomfortable situations, but his ability makes it all seem so unreal. Yes, I understand the genre is fiction. I expect my fiction to contain kernels of believability sprinkled throughout the fantasy, though.

I appreciate how Mr. Gould tries to have David Rice, the main character, work through these issues. In fact, the adolescent angst is at times palpable and cloying. But, when I got to the end I didn’t feel like I actually made it anywhere. The story read like a chain of events loosely bound together by the same paper cover and not a well-knit story unfolding for the reader. I know no more about David Rice at the end than I did at the beginning.

I had hoped the author would address the root of David’s talent, why he has it and where it came from. One could say this would be developed in the next book in the series, but Mr. Gould released this in 1992 and didn’t follow up with another book. There is no series. (For those of you hearkening back to Griffin’s Tale again, please remember that book deals with the history of a character created for the movie Jumper.) He just cuts us off and leaves us with nothing. In fact, after I finished I remember thinking “hmmm, reads like a television show”. Perhaps the movie is more enjoyable.

Since the folks at EOS were kind enough to send me a copy of The Undead Kama Sutra, I felt that I should extend them the same courtesy and read this book. This is the third book in Mario Acevedo's Felix Gomez detective series, but I don't believe that it is necessary to have had read the first two books (something I haven't done yet).

Perhaps a plot summary is in order, because god knows after you finish reading my review, the summary may be all you want to know of the book. Vampire PI, Felix Gomez, is charged with finding out more information about the near mythical underground sex-tome, The Undead Kama Sutra. It’s held in such regard within the vampire community because it can “realign the chakra” causing vampires to “reverse psychic damage and heal mental and emotional wounds.” Hmm, how philosophical?

But wait, let’s not just stop there: positions in the erotic tome come with such hysterically knee slapping names as “Monkey Laughs at Moon” and “Feeding the Melon.” Can’t stop laughing at how ingenious the names are? Yeah, me neither—so funny! I kept waiting for the “Hidden Trap Door from Behind” position.

Sadly, the position names are the high point of this book. Honestly, I’d rather watch people perform Tai Chi in the park for the rest of my life than want to hear anymore about chakras and The Undead Kama Sutra. I’d rather Tae Bo around the US with Billy Blanks than watch anyone acting out the things found in this sex-tome.

Okay you may be saying, “We get it, but that can’t be all this book is about right?” Fair enough. I guess I forgot to mention that Felix Gomez has also been tasked with the dying wish of his alien buddy to “save the Earth women.” From what you may ask? Well that would be giving things away. Let’s just say, I envy you for not knowing.

Enough negatives, on to the positives—it’s fairly short. It’s also self-contained which is nice I guess. The story ended when the pages ran out. The cover was pretty nice. It was free. Is that enough?

I'm not entirely sure who this series is marketed towards, but it sure isn't me. I feel that the target audience for these books is the 14-17 year-old adolescent boy demographic. The demographic that love The Hardy Boys but always wished there were more soft-core titillation and blood in the stories. The same demographic that watches scrambled porn on cable, enjoys the spice channel, and laughs when they stumble upon their father’s hidden stash of Playboy magazines. I mean many of the characters walk around naked most of the time for no other reason than to be naked. If I have to hear another descriptive of, "she had a bikini that was too small for her breasts and she knew it", I'm going to weep—I’m talking about openly weeping without any regard to shame.

Also Mr. Acevedo's writing is extremely clichéd and weak. Characters go from point A-B with expository that seem almost ridiculously simple.

i.e.: I need to go there- So I get in a car and drive- Here I am driving- Still driving- I pull up to where I was driving towards- I get out of the car and here I am.

Basically, that’s how the descriptives go in this book. Take this "fine" writing and throw plot ideas in a hat and pull things out at random and you have what passes for a story here. I'm not giving this a lower score because like I said, I don't believe I'm the target readership and perhaps 14-17 year-old boys will love the cheesy "is that a pen in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me" dialogue. And besides, it knows it has its fair share of faults and doesn't take itself too seriously, unlike a lot of so called “literary” books out there. Now excuse me while I cry over the wasted hours spent reading this book that I'll never get back.

Not recommended for anyone who is old enough to buy a lotto ticket.

If you liked this also check out: The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Supercharged Kama Sutra Illustrated, the always heart numbingly fun “danger stranger” (if you don’t know what that means Google it!), any American Pie movie, and the absurd yet enticing Hardy Boys and the Rainbow Party.

Chris Keating hated his life. He hated living on a planet covered mostly with water. He hated the smell of rotting seaweed. He hated his job and the fact he was an orphan. However, he despised the Selkies more than all of these hates put together. Modified genetically from human DNA, the Selkies were beings who could live underwater and on land. They had gills, modified hearing, vision and speech, all of which enabled them to be at home in the sea while still looking human. Because they were so at home in the water, Selkies ruled Marseguro, the planet Chris had the unfortunate reality of calling home.

Settled when a starship escaped Earth to flee religious and political persecution, Marseguro has remained hidden from Earth for seventy years. Not anymore. Selkies and humans alike will face their greatest fears when Earth seeks that which was lost to them seventy years ago, causing all involved to come to terms with the realities of prejudice and hate.

Portraying people at their worst and their best, this book challenges readers to revisit their first impressions. The unexpected dives in the storyline only add interest and depth to what could have been a shallow and simple sci-fi tale. Characters face issues of nature vs. nurture, the effects of bullying and the deep seated threads of prejudice, yet readers do not need to acknowledge any of this to enjoy Marseguro. Added to the mix is delightful display of tech that more resembles Star Trek (possible) as opposed to Star Wars (never gonna happen).

I liked this book more than I thought I would when I first picked it up. The author was constantly surprising me, which doesn’t happen often, twisting the usual sci-fi conventions into more than just a shoot ‘em up space opera. Edward Willett has created people, personalities with belief systems and misguided judgments who make mistakes in trying to do what they believe is right. Still what I would consider light reading, Marseguro is a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon on another planet. I look forward to the release of the sequel to Marseguro, Terra Insegura, later on next year.

My first foray into Glen Cook's writing was less than a success. I got through about 50 pages of The Tyranny of the Night and threw it across the room—page after page containing made up words with no explanation of what they meant. Every problem that people have with fantasy books was made evident in those first 50 pages and I had never gone back to a Glen Cook world.

However, I'm a big fan of the subgenre, urban-fantasy, and when I read that Cook's Garrett PI novels were an early representation of said genre, I quickly bought the first book. I should have left it collecting dust in the used bookstore I found it in. In truth, this is more of a detective story in a cartoony world than an urban-fantasy.

Sweet Silver Blues is the first book in the Garrett PI universe. It’s centered around a man named Garrett who works as a PI in a town called TunFaire, where its citizens consist of dwarves, elves, trolls, and many other fabled creatures. Yes, Garrett is a PI in a fantasy world where humans coexist with the other species. Sounds very similar to the Toontown in Who Framed Roger Rabbit , but with more sex and killing.

Also, pivotal to Garrett's world are two warring factions that have been fighting wars for land that contain silver—silver being the prime metal all sorcerers use for their, well, sorcery. A tenuous pitch at best. Nothing more concerning these sides fighting is explained, although I'm sure later books go into more detail, this seeming important. But honestly, I'm sure like me, you won't be able to rush fast enough to get out of Garrett's and Cook's world.

The main problem I had with this book is that nothing really happens, and for a short book that’s surprising. Garrett is supposed to be a PI but there is barely any detective work that gets done. When he needs a new clue, some goons attack him; he in turn beats the goons up; the goons cry and whine, spilling information which leads him to the next clue. Any detective work that gets done is done off-page—the character having done the detecting then comes back and explains how he went about his detecting. It's all entirely superficial and becomes increasingly irritating and boring.

Another problem is the action sequences. I mean come on! Most of the characters just spend the pages drinking, getting drunk, and then trying to recover from being drunk. That's mainly the action that gets done in the book. Why would I want to read page after page of others just drinking and talking about drinking? Thanks, but no thanks. I can just as easily be drinking and not reading this book.

Also, I have to take Mr. Cook to task with his dialogue. Again, his dialogue is peppered with too "cool" for school lingo that entirely exists in his own little world. Half the time I didn't know what anyone was talking about (and I've studied Dostoevsky, Beckett and Nabokov for most of my life!!). Cook's sentences are also quite terse and short, leaving much unexplained.

And what’s with Cook’s characterization of the different species? My god!! It essentially goes like this: Here is a dwarf—she’s short, yet somehow leggy and sexy. Here is a centaur—look at him run around with his large testicles. *Cue laughter.* I mean is this the best he can do? I mean, really?

The positives? It's a quick read, there are sexy dwarves, there’s everyone's favorite interspecies mating, and well, the series does continue in other books (although this as a positive is debatable).

As Peter Griffin in Family Guy so eloquently put it when faced with a stand-up comedy act he disliked, "You sir, are not for me. No. No, not for me, sir." Alas I must say the same thing to Mr. Cook. While I did finally finish one of his books, I must sadly say, "You sir, are not for me."

Not recommended unless you are dead set on wasting more hours of your life. Rated a low 3/10

If you liked this also check out: trains crashing, New Jersey, a day at the dentist’s, and the always enjoyable, high-school bully beating.

Goblin War by Jim Hines is the third book in the Jig the Goblin series—and it’s a very good finish to a satisfying series. All the goblin books are bubblegum reads; excellent beach books— lovely, easy-to-read distractions. Jig is still the underdog in Goblin War, and I enjoyed his bumbling through his latest crisis, knowing full-well that he wouldn’t be able to avoid trouble. Poor thing, he was forced in a very ungoblinlike manner to *think* his way out of trouble. Jig is still reminiscent of your younger brother, but in book three, he’s starting to grow up and maybe take a few goblins along for the ride—not all of them actually gaining a new, mature outlook, of course.

Goblin War managed to be more than just a Jig adventure. Clever of Hines to throw in the story of the Forgotten Gods, told mostly through the viewpoint of Jig’s forgotten god, T. Autumnstar. I don’t generally enjoy stories about gods, because they are complex, overdone and lack any sympathetic characters. True to Hine’s usual sense of humor, Autumnstar’s story is ironic, full of ridiculous and often funny scenes and “human” enough that I found myself quite enjoying Autumnstar and his predicaments. Autumnstar is a tad like Jig; an underdog god and one that is a bit down on his luck. His story is quite funny and very necessary in making the book come together. Hines did a great job weaving the two stories, and at times it was a race to see whether Jig would out-survive the god or the other way around.

There were a couple of spots where I did wonder if Hines had gone off on a tangent path never to get his Goblin back on track, but the occasional meandering always made sense in the end—sometimes quite cleverly too. The setting he chose for Goblin War—outside the Goblin mountain--also added greatly to the story. The new terrain, characters and creatures kept the story interesting and helped move it forward. This was a faster-paced book than book two.

My favorite character, Smudge (the fire spider), put in several appearances again. Even when Smudge’s role was expected, it always put a smile on my face when the spider came out of hiding. Hines knows how to tug at heart-strings, even if the pet is a spider.

While Jig’s character has grown in the series, Hines was masterful at always keeping Jig and the others true to Goblin nature. From the food the Goblins ate, their reactions to humans and the human traditions--Hines never forgot to pick a goblin nose in public, grow an extra fungus between their disgusting toes or have his goblins react with the typical juvenile goblin "maturity." It’s always a good read when the characters can grow—but remain what makes them unique. Part of what made the god versus goblin scenes work so well was the very different viewpoint and goals.

And the ending…how does an author manage to make you feel nostalgic before you’ve even finished the last page? With a goblin, I’m not sure you can have a perfectly *happy* ending, but with Hines, you can definitely have a perfect ending.

Like the other books in the series, this is a good read for young adults and adults, and I highly recommend it when you want to sit back and not take life too seriously. Let the goblin find all the trouble and enjoy the ride.

The government of 2057 is regretting the deregulation of time travel as private companies deluge the past with tourists. As the delicate web of history flexes under the weight of interference from the future, Jacynda struggles to locate the man who made time travel a reality - Harter Defoe. Cynda’s friends Dr. Allistair and Detective Keats also continue their struggles with Victorian Transitives and a mysterious bloody murder. The stakes are high as Jacynda and her companions attempt to fulfill their duties. With Keat’s life on the line and Jacynda facing eternity in prison if they fail, the odds have never looked worse.

Jana C. Oliver has crafted a sequel that packs a whallop! Virtual Evil is a sensory overload of spine tingling adventure and mind-tickling wit. I absolutely love how she has deepened the characters in this second book. Dr. Allistair and Keats come alive here, standing aside Jacynda as they struggle to put the pieces together in this inventive mystery. Oliver splits her focus between these three characters, yet is able to maintain the momentum and tension in the tale. The action is non-stop as readers follow all three in their struggles to identify an invisible killer that can take on the image of anyone.

If anything, Virtual Evil is even more complex than the first book in the Time Rovers series, Sojourn. Oliver builds the suspense and intrigue, causing readers to doubt the integrity of just about everyone. Not knowing who to trust is one of my favorite aspects of this story. I am also impressed with her concept of time travel as she fills in even more details for readers. In fact, the only weakness I see in the story is the role of government as the Big Bad Brother looking over Jacynda’s shoulder. I feel the writing on that aspect is a bit clichéd and is the only predictable part of this book. However, this did not interrupt my enjoyment of a thoroughly rolicking tale.

Readers, please prepare for this book by reading the first in the series and then jump into this second story. Hopefully, we will not have long to wait to find out just what befalls our heroine and her two companions after the cliffhanger ending of Virtual Evil. I promise you will be breathless waiting for the third book, Madman’s Dance, to arrive sometime in the fall of 2008.

Jacynda is a Time Rover from the year 2057, escorting academic tourists back and forth in the river of Time to engage in historical research. Called upon to recover a reluctant tourist who is enjoying the past a little too much, she finds herself in one of the most terrifying times and places during the Victorian Era - East End London, 1888, the playground of Jack the Ripper. As if a tourist refusing to return isn’t enough, Jacynda finds out a Rover has also gone missing. Woven throughout her escapade is the presence of the Transitives, a group of people with the mysterious talent to alter their appearance by shifting their shape completely. Jacynda must decide who to trust as she finds she is running out of the very commodity she has always controlled - Time.

Winner of the Daphne du Maurier award, Sojourn is an exquisitely crafted tale that takes readers back to the very bowels of the East End. Squalid, derelict, and desperate, the people there are simply trying to survive another day. Jacynda can’t help but compare her life in 2057 with the existence of those in 1888. The author lays the stark and sterile society of the future next to the teeming life of the Victorian Era. Jacynda begins to realize filth and struggle serve to heighten the pleasures of the simple things in life, such as fresh hot scones and a quiet bath.

Jana G. Oliver has performed a masterful feat, balancing the multiple threads in the storyline to culminate in an ending that both satisfies and leaves questions unanswered. The only threadbare aspect to the plot was the relationship between Jacynda and her employer in 2057, but this pales in comparison to the rest of the story. Readers will find non-stop action from the beginning as they tumble from 1888 to 2057 and back again. Ms. Oliver introduces characters and creates personalities, capturing the Victorian fussiness and the “ladies of the night” with finesse. Her addition of the Transitives, shape shifters, serves to add a different twist on the activities of Jack the Ripper. Ripperologists, fear not, this is not an attempt to lay to rest the identity of that cruel fiend. Jack does, however, have a place in the plot (as readers will find out for themselves).

Sojourn was a wonderful adventure, full of unexpected twists and turns. I encourage you, Reader, to experience this time trip for yourself.

The Unnatural Inquirer is the eighth book in the Nightside series by Simon R. Green. I’d probably have been better off starting with something earlier in the series, because this book felt a bit played out already and tracking the main character’s magical abilities was confusing at times. A lot of time was spent on worldbuilding—why Nightside works the way it does, the cool places on Nightside and the various characters and rules that govern this supernatural seedy, hidden side of London. The setting was actually quite fascinating, but while readers of the series might have been enjoying visiting old and dear characters, I found myself a tad bored with every little stop into yet another place. Each one was unique, but not always necessary in order to forward the story. There were interesting little what-ifs throughout: what-if buildings could rebuild themselves or what if religious zealots really could call down lightening, and the main one, if you could see what the afterlife really looked like, would you want to know?

There were some very dynamic characters in this book: John Taylor, the main character, finds things. He has the ability to look through time and see what happened in the past and then follow the past to the here and now, usually finding the person or object he is after. Of course, he needs enough clues in order for his inner eye to work. As he says, he has to know what question to ask. If he’s looking for an object, he has to know who to look for that might have moved or taken the object. He has to be in the right place. In this book something is blocking his powers, and he is forced into manual mode, searching for a recording of the afterlife without much help from magic.

Suzie “Shotgun Suzie” is Taylor’s girlfriend—and I suspect I would enjoy any Nightside caper that included more of her involvement. I am certain I would enjoy the winding tale of how the two of them came to trust each other enough to work together. In this caper, we instead get Bettie as Taylor’s companion; a reporter from the Unnatural Inquirer—(yes, it’s a play on the magazine and has a similar reputation.)

Bettie appears to be there so that Taylor has someone to talk to. She plays the dumb blonde, asking a lot of questions and supplying info dumps of her own. She was little more than a prop for most of the book.

There were other characters that probably played heavier parts in other books: the mysterious Walker who has the ability to give commands that Must Be Obeyed. He is some sort of enforcer/clean-up/self-appointed cop of Nightside and scenes with Walker were always quite interesting and well-done.

The plot--Taylor is hired by the Unnatural Inquirer to find an Afterlife Recording—a DVD the “newspaper” has already bought and paid for, only it disappeared before delivery. Of course, since it is seen as a valuable object, everyone else wants it too—collectors, religious zealots, the aforementioned Walker and the odd god creature. Taylor’s powers came and went as he tracked down the DVD—blocked by something or someone. I was never quite satisfied with the explanation given; yes, at the end, I knew ‘who’ caused the problem, but not ‘how.’

Perhaps because there are other books in this series, the borders of Taylor’s capabilities were never well-defined in this book. The most interesting scenes were at the beginning of the book where Taylor had use of his power and readers get to experience how he works. As the book progresses, he is steadily blocked—both in mundane ways and as he tries to rely on a few other secondary abilities that he has.

The ending had several battles, but frankly, nothing worrisome. Taylor’s powers just so happened to reappear in time for one or two battles, and when they weren’t working, it didn’t take him very long to talk his way out of trouble or otherwise free himself from disaster.

I wouldn’t hesitate to read one of the earlier novels in this setting because I suspect the whole series is a collection of quick, fun romps through a strangely magical urban setting. The premise for this story was good, the execution of it wandered, and in the end, it was much like bar-hopping with a guide that knows a city well—some places were fun, some had good music, some had interesting people with more than a hint of danger and some were dingy and tired with questionable food.

Mercedes Lackey fans will thoroughly enjoy this fun escapade into turn-of-the-century England. Reserved for the Cat follows along with the Elemental Masters stories, which focus on magicians in the real world pictured in historical settings. We meet Ninette, an orphan in Paris who is gifted with the ability to capture her audience with her ballet dancing. As a young woman without proper lineage, her options for a future were limited to washerwoman (and die young), a prostitute on the street (and die even earlier), or catch the eye of a wealthy older man with her dancing abilities and live in relative ease. With her mother’s firm instruction, Ninette plunges into the life of a dedicated ballerina focusing on catching that wealthy old man.

These plans fall awry and she stumbles into the world of magic as she is rescued by a talking cat. Thomas, the cat, leads her to Elemental Masters involved in the theater with the idea of establishing her as a known ballerina in England. Of course, the plans of mice (er, cats) and men don’t always happen as intended. Ninette discovers the world of magic contains more than good, thoughtful Masters.

This is typical Mercedes Lackey, pushing the envelope of social acceptability regarding female roles in society. She brings a modern day perspective to the historical issues of women’s’ rights. She deals with the everyday struggle women faced simply to survive and the unalterable dependence they had on the male figures in their lives.

Within these social issues, however, lies a truly enjoyable tale. I find Ms. Lackey’s Elemental Masters series a true frolic into fantasy and Reserved for the Cat is no exception. Witty and dry, the magic in her books is always so believable, as are her characters. This is a great book, made to enjoy during these snowy days of December. Curl up under a blanket and enjoy Reserved for the Cat. Then look up the other marvelous tales published by Mercedes Lackey. There are too many to list here. Trust me - you will find your time well spent!

In "The Ticking" Renee French tells the story of Edison Steelhead. Edison's mother dies in childbirth and Edison himself is born deformed. It's pretty obvious from that opening that "The Ticking" is not going to be a lighthearted story. Edison's father takes him to live in an isolated lighthouse and gets a chimpanzee whom he calls Edison's sister. Edison copes with his strange life by drawing, in minute detail, things that he sees every day. The book is illustrated with beautifully shaded and textured pencil drawings, though the artwork itself celebrates the grotesque. As the reader joins Edison on his journey, it becomes clear that Edison Steelhead is the sort of person who doesn't just survive tragedy, he overcomes it. Before the final page, the reader understands that despite everything, Edison is going to be okay.

"The Ticking" is deceptive, at first, because it is a beautifully clothbound hardcover book with gold leaf traceries on the cover. It also seems, at first glance, full of childish illustrations and scant text. Don't let those first impressions fool you into believing that this is going to be an easy read. There are drawings that don't just celebrate the grotesque, they revel in it. Some of the drawings are intentionally very simplified because they show how Edison develops as an artist. As the story progresses, the reader realizes that Edison understands perfectly that his life is not normal and that, perhaps, is what makes the story so much more stomach-turning in the beginning. It makes a much more shattering impact to see Edison go on into the real world and make a decision that takes a wealth of courage. Another path would have been easier, but it would have been less satisfying for the character and the reader.

This is the kind of graphic novel that should be offered up to those adults who are ready to see what "comics" have to offer these days. "The Ticking" displays a perfect symbiotic relationship between text and illustration that makes it abundantly clear this story could not be told to such great effect in the absence of either element. It is thought provoking and insightful on many levels. After reading this book, I wanted to take a couple of days and really digest what I had read. I'm still thinking about it. It's the kind of book that you hope other people read and discuss because it can open up so many issues about appearance and coping and how much children really understand about the world around them.