Black Helicopters – by Caitlin R. Kiernan (Review)

Tinfoil Dossier #2

Horror, Scifi, Novella

Tor.com; May 1, 2018

202 pages (ebook)
4hr 11m (audiobook)

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1 / 10 ✪

The idea of a “story” is to give an account or description of events, not randomly spout prose and leave it up to the reader to decide what the fuck you’re talking about. I mean, for Book #2 in a series, at the very least.

Enter Black Helicopters. I don’t understand what this is about. And I don’t understand why I don’t understand what this is about. In Agents of Dreamland, we learned that there was an an impending apocalypse, which only Ptolema might prevent, so I thought maybe this would be a continuation of that. And, yeah, Ptolema’s got a POV within, but it’s only one of three. The other two are SOMEONE, who lives in the post-apocalyptic city of Sanctuary (I think) and writes daily letters to her sister, and Johnson, who crews aboard the Argyle Shoelace, a ship at some pre-apocalyptic time that is probably important for some reason that’s not immediately clear. The Signalman makes an appearance, but even he can’t seem to tell us what the fuck is going on. Maybe he doesn’t know.

I realize that Ptolema is out to save the world, but I only know this entirely from the last book, as this one never makes any real sense whatsoever.

• Okay, so a quarter of the way through: I’ve no fucking idea what is going on in this stupid book. I know what it’s SUPPOSED to be—another entry in the Tinfoil Dossier, an alien invasion story happening in the future, unless Ptolema can stop it. But… so far, we just rambled on for 6 chapters (an hour and a half in), and I’ve no idea what’s happening.

• There’s something in the near-future that’s caused the end of the world, but we knew that in the last novella, so this isn’t super informative. There’s a place called Sanctuary, where someone and 66 live. And they hunt alien monsters.

And that’s it.

That could’ve been covered in a letter. Like the ones she writes her sister. Like ONE of the letters she writes.

• We just took 10 minutes and a full chapter saying that aliens landed somewhere at sometime because something and then ended it. The next chapter spouted a prophecy amidst a fountain of nonsense. And now we’re speaking in French (a lot of French) with no translation offered. Helpfully I never learned any French.

• So we’re on a ship—the Argyle Shoestring—that has what to do with what? I can’t make heads or tails of any of the threads of this story. Or what they have to do with the apocalypse and/or preventing it.

I could complain about this one all day, but instead I’ll leave off with a quote I feel sums up the consistency of the text.

“Gentlemen, we have arrived at the oneness of allness, a single cosmic flow. You would label disorder, unreality, inequilibrium, ugliness, discord, inconsistency.

“Checkmate. Because this is the meaning. Black queen white, white queen black. A game of chess played in the temples of Erss, the halls of Discordia. There will be murders on La Manzanna de la Discordia. You know, or may learn of, Omar Khayyam Ravenhurst—not his real name, but let that slide. The gods were not pleased, hence of course all were turned into birds. Even the birds will rain down upon the bay and upon the island. Erss tosses the golden apple and the sea heaves up her judgment upon us all. Watch for the Egyptian, and the arrival of the Twins, and my daughter’s daughter. Watch for Strife, who—warns Homer—is relentless. She is the sister and companion of murderous Ares. She, who was only a little thing at the first, but thereafter grows, until she strides on the earth with her head striking heaven. She then hurls down bitterness, equally between both sides, as she walks through the onslaught, making men’s pain heavier. The Calla Lilies are in bloom again. Such a strange flower, suitable to any occasion. Be still—the chaos reigns around you now.”

Normally, I do a summary, then put a quote, then discuss how I feel about the book, the plot, the characters, whatever. But since there’s no way I could’ve done a coherent summary of any plot—mostly because the “story” didn’t seem to have one—I guess I’ll just skip to the end.

TL;DR

If you didn’t read this review, I wouldn’t read the book. Yeah, it was that bad. Nope, it didn’t make any sense. Yup, it even got me to swear in my review of it. And it’s usually got to be pretty fucking bad to do that. The best part of Black Helicopters was the narration. Justine Eyre somehow managed to make parts of this sound pretty good, almost coherent. Too bad none of it was.

I’m actually planning on reading Book #3 of the Tinfoil Dossier, mostly because I can’t believe it can be any worse than #2.

Agents of Dreamland – by Caitlin R. Kiernan (Review)

Tinfoil Dossier #1

Scifi, Horror, Novella

Tor.com; February 28, 2017

125 pages (paperback)
2hr 39m (audiobook)

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6.5 / 10 ✪

Winslow, Arizona
2015

The events of the earlier week in Riverside still haunt the faceless agent known only as “the Signalman”, but he’s more worried about the woman he’s set to meet than any memories he could ever suffer. Still, the ranch house comes close.

Meanwhile, the disappearance of an interplanetary probe just beyond the orbit of Pluto hints at something more worrying. If the Signalman is lucky, the two are isolated incidents. Coincidence. But the government doesn’t believe in coincidence. And the Signalman wouldn’t consider himself lucky. Hence his presence at the meeting in the first place.

And with the two coincidences comes a third: a mysterious, pallid woman outside of time and place. With her, comes the Signalman’s greatest worry. But also—humanity’s last hope.

A confusing start eventually gives way to an intricate science fiction tale of spores, zombie fungus, invading aliens, but ultimately presents its reader a conclusion featuring more questions to ask than it deigns answer, at least before the second installment.

While I ended up relatively enjoying this title, it certainly did not start out this way. In fact, the first time I picked up Agents of Dreamland, I ended up DNFing it due to lack of interest: I couldn’t figure out what was going on, where the story was headed, WHAT the story was at all, and why I was supposed to care. In the audio version, while these were still very real concerns, I could focus on something else (in this case Cyberpunk 2077), while I waited for the plot to come together.

Fortunately, everything did gradually converge, as the two very different story threads were eventually tied together with a third POV joining the mix. I’ve seen this approach work before—quite well, even—but it was an interesting choice for this particular format. A full-length novel, or one longer, would be a good choice, because it allows ample time for world-building and/or character development. A novella, on the other hand… never has much of either. So, when the story finally comes together, not only is there only 30% or so of an already undersized book left, but neither does it really feel like we’ve accomplished much more than subtle hints at the greater whole.

I guess that it’s a good thing that when the plot comes together, it actually hints at something so promising, so interesting. I’ve mentioned that nothing really comes out of this story, but it sets the stage for something greater come Book #2. That it begs more questions than it answers. Obviously I can’t get much into what this is because of spoilers, but sufficient to say that it involves zombie fungus, aliens, and a world that has not yet come to pass. Between the subtlety and vagueness, there’s not much of substance in Agents of Dreamland. But the world that it hints at—I want to see. I NEED to see. Something on par with the Last of Us or The Last Man with its detail or immersion or depth of field.

Another point in Dreamland’s favor is the ambience of the story. Even from the first—a dust-choked town, a 2015 diner with 1940’s vibes, a mysterious lead known only as “the Signalman”—it’s all so atmospheric. Say what you want about the story or its characters, from the very first scene I connected with this world. I could feel the dust in my eyes and on my skin, the sweat drying on my back and armpits. I could taste the stale, tepid Dr. Pepper. I could hear the relative quiet of the desert, the click-clack of the train. I could picture the lit cigarette, dirty suit, 40’s diner, hazy twilight. I’m not sure what I have to say about the world-building of Agents of Dreamland, but it has nothing on Caitlin R. Kiernan’s ability to illustrate a scene. All the places we spent time in were as vivid as they were intricate and detailed. While I didn’t necessarily connect with the story, I connected so much with the world around it that it almost made up for it in the end.

TL;DR

Overall, Agents of Dreamland was an interesting, if not exciting beginning to the Tinfoil Dossier. The world itself is beautifully rendered, and hints at a deep, thoroughly thought-out plan for what’s to come in the series. Which is good, because the story of Dreamland itself fails to wow in any meaningful way. Only materializing with about a quarter of the text left, it does little more than introduce the reader to the world, before snapping the book closed on it. Despite this, I’m interested to see where the story goes from here. There’s promise of aliens, brain-fungus, and some sort of apocalypse in the future entry, Black Helicopters. That said, the reviews of Book #2 that I’ve seen are less than flattering, so it might well be all for nothing. Guess we’ll see.

When I bought the novella, it had the reasonable price of $4 for the ebook of a novella—though that’s now risen to $8. Which… ehhh. Not so great. I got the audiobook free, so that’s what I’d recommend doing if I were you. The 2nd entry in the series, Black Helicopters, is currently $7 for an ebook, which isn’t a lot better—though it IS about twice as long.

The Harbor – by Katrine Engberg (Review)

Kørner & Werner #3

Mystery, Nordic Noir

Gallery/Scout Press; February 22, 2022

352 pages (ebook)
9hr 38m (audiobook)

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8 / 10 ✪

I was kindly granted an advance copy in exchange for an honest review. Many thanks to Scout/Gallery Books for the eARC! All opinions are my own.

He looked around and saw the knife that had stabbed Basil Hallward. He had cleaned it many times, till there was no stain left upon it. It was bright and glistened. As it had killed the painter, so it would kill the painter’s work, and all that that meant. It would kill the past, and when that was dead, he would be free.

So ends the first and only clue in the disappearance of fifteen year-old Oscar Dreyer-Hoff. As clues go, this one’s shit, but Anette Werner and Jeppe Kørner are used to much worse. Odds are the missing teen is no more than a runaway, but as he’s from an influential family—one used to kidnapping and threats before—the Copenhagen Police are taking it seriously. Thus the inclusion of detectives Kørner and Werner.

But as each hour passes, and the potential for finding the boy alive grows ever more slim, the case itself changes to match. Patterns form and fade, relationships appear and vanish, and the mindset of a trouble teen slowly begins to reveal itself. But rather than helping the case, these revelations instead push the search into murkier waters still.

A possible sexual relationship between Oscar’s brother Viktor and his only real friend, Iben. A family bed. Something shared between Oscar and his teacher. A banished sister, a middle child, a shared secret. Another disappearance. A love of boating, of the water. Everyone has something to hide, everyone has something to lose—though some more than others. Clues come and go—but which relate to the disappearance and which are just there to distract? Will Kørner and Werner be able to locate the missing teen while he yet lives, or will the inevitable finally come to pass?


Eroticism has many faces.

This was an intricate, murky case set on the Øresund between Zealand and Scania, between Copenhagen and Sweden. The Sound gives the whole book an overcast, grey feel—much like the cover itself. Though not all the case and its avenues take place or have anything to do with the waters, they certainly feel like the focus for the book.

I want to make this clear up front: I really enjoyed this one. The murky, grey, confusing feel to the case, with all the clues that may or may not relate, the leads that sped off on tangents or eventually wormed their way back to the heart of it all—it all worked quite well for me. And when everything came together in the end: oh, it was magnificent! The thing is, however, that when you have a story with so many false-starts, with so much deception, it doesn’t help to add other, less… related aspects to an already twisting tale.

While I enjoyed the initial release, the Tenant, I definitely liked the second book better due in no small part to its inclusion of the detectives’ lives. Anette and her baby; Jeppe and his search for love. Both main characters return in the Harbor and once again their personal lives take center stage, but this time it’s all about love. Jeppe and Sarah have taken their relationship to the next level (Sarah has introduced her boyfriend to her daughters, Jeppe has pretty much moved in with the three), but things could be going better. Anette is having problems of her own at home, as her husband Sven hasn’t appeared interested in her anymore. And so she’s been letting her mind wander at work, envisioning sex with all kinds—colleague or suspect alike. Jeppe’s best friend Johannes returns to play a bit part, and while I loved having him (after not seeing him at all in the Butterfly House), I would’ve liked even more from him still. Well, maybe next time. The thing I still cannot fathom is Esther de Laurenti’s (and Gregor’s) inclusion. I complained about it in Book #2—as it didn’t really feel tied to any part of the story, or the main characters within—and I’m going to roast it even more now. Esther, a literature major, is consulted briefly about the opening quote, which is apparently a passage by Oscar Wilde. Full stop. Nevertheless, despite being out of the story after this brief interlude, we continue to share her POVs. In a book of false-leads and tangents, where the story toes an ever-murky line, her inclusion does little other than to distract from an already confusing story, something that is as nonsensical as it is infuriating. “So, we’re going to take a break from this twisting, confusing, but immersive case to go check in on Esther, who really has nothing to do with anything.” While I love developing more backstory on the leads, visiting their lives and seeing their problems and how it all affects their jobs—I don’t understand checking in on someone who barely relates at all to the case, to the detectives, or to the story at all.

As with other Engberg mysteries, or some Nordic Noir, don’t expect a happy ending. Now, I’m not saying there isn’t one. Just that Nordic Noir is so-named for a reason. It’s not grimdark, but it’s not “and they all lived happily ever after”. I mean, there’s certainly a conclusion—which I quite liked, in fact—and it’s definitely enjoyable to the reader, as it ties up any loose ends quite nicely, just: it might not be the happiest. Think of it as “some of them lived, some were happy, and there was some measure of after”.

TL;DR

All in all, the Harbor is probably Katrine Engberg’s most ambitious mystery to date. It’s certainly the most intricate, thrilling, and entirely plausible one. Reality aside, not every mystery can end with a mountain of corpses and a serial killer behind bars. A murky, twisting tale set out over the Øresund and its isles in the Copenhagen harbor, the Harbor chooses an already dark and overcast setting to stage its latest tale, one that replaces a world of greys with that of blues instead. And while it delves even more into the lives of its characters than any release before it, the inclusion of previous characters and their lives—which don’t seem to relate to the case at all—is a mystifying choice, and one that holds the story back from being something truly special. Because at no time during your already twisting and intricate, highly immersive investigation should you take a break to visit someone who has nothing to do with anything, and talk for a while about their lives. This aside, I’d thoroughly recommend the Harbor, and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for Kørner and Werner, and where the series goes from here!

Audio Note: Once again, I loved Graeme Malcolm’s narration! It brought the story to life and helped sell the characters not just as individuals, but as part of a whole, interconnected to each other and the world around them A great read, all around. Thoroughly recommended!

Review of The Tenant (Kørner & Werner #1)

Review of the Butterfly House (Kørner & Werner #2)

Stars and Bones – by Gareth L. Powell (Review)

Stars and Bones Universe #1

Scifi, Space Opera

Titan Books; February 15, 2022

352 pages (ebook)
8hr 28m (audiobook)

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6.0 / 10 ✪

I was kindly granted an advance copy in exchange for an honest review. Many thanks to Titan Books for the ARC! All opinions are my own.

When worst came to worst, the Angel stepped in to save us. Not an actual Angel mind, but super advanced aliens that stepped in in humanity’s last hour and saved it from destruction. So, kinda an actual Angel. Something that saved humanity. Or, rather, saved the Earth from humanity.

Now, cast out upon the stars, humanity exists on a multitude of great Arkships, where everything is provided and no one is left behind—a true paradise. And so the fleet wanders, knowing that the eye of the Angels will forever remain on them, and knowing that they can never return to Earth.

Eryn is a scout pilot. Together, she and her ship, the Ferocious Ocelot, scout the edges of the Arkships’ path as they wander through space. When her sister Shay disappears while responding to an alien distress call, Eryn insists on being part of the crew to find her.

Candidate-623 is a lonely rock, but harbors something both terrifying and deadly. Something that might spell humanity’s doom should it reach the Arkships. When the crew is attacked, Eryn races to warn the fleet, all the while dreading whether or not this certain something might have followed her home…

“Holy shit,” she breathed, “You are not going to fucking believe this.”

And she was right, I didn’t. At least, not at first. Because high above the atmosphere, something vaster and older than the Earth had reached down and snatched every ICBM from the sky, every torpedo from the ocean, and every tank shell, mortar round, and bullet from every battlefield on the planet.

And is was not at all amused.

Man, this was a weird one.

First off, if you’re put off by language, LGBTQ+ representation, and/or terribly done romance—maybe skip this one, eh? Otherwise, read on.

It started out like a house on fire: an extraterrestrial attack right out of the gate that quickly transformed into a desperate race against time. That transformed into a… mystery? Whereupon suddenly introducing several new characters and plot-lines around the third- or halfway mark. The last third read a bit like the latest Star Wars movies, where they just ran with whatever thing first came to mind (despite it making little sense in the overall narrative) and made sure to add plenty of action sequences.

Beware spoilers ahead for the romance! If you want to avoid them just skip the next paragraph.

The romance was… cringeworthy. What happens between Eryn and Li isn’t so much a will-they-or-won’t-they as it is a why-is-something-going-on-i-hadn’t-noticed. What starts out as a one-night stand (or, a not-even one-night stand) in the face of a certain-death mission, slowly resolves into… nothing. There are a couple of kisses, interspersed by long gaps where Eryn looks at Li like a guest, but a stranger. Seriously, they talk only a handful of times—and it actually equates to anything meaningful once. And yet I’m supposed to believe that they’re madly in love by the end? That Eryn is so smitten with the person she routinely describes as a stranger that she actually says “I realized that I was always going to love her unconditionally and forever” at the end. Now I realize that some people can go head over heels damn quick but… were they reading the same book I was, or did I just miss something? Because this romance seems so forced it literally made me cringe, and gape when they so unexpectedly ended up in love.

In addition to a truly cringeworthy romance, the conclusion to the story was a bit of a blur. By which I mean confusing. I’m not going to get into it because of spoilers, but… I spent half of the time lost and the other half either experiencing deja vu or wondering how it’d possibly come to this point. But despite all odds when the end actually came, all my questions had been answered. As far as I could tell, all major threads had been tied up. It was extremely odd, but extremely impressive.

Yes, there was a talking cat, no, I don’t want to talk about it.

Despite it all, Stars and Bones wasn’t bad. It had a solid story, so long as you overlooked all the tangents, pseudo-parenting, and the romance (ye gods, don’t get me going on the romance again). A race against the clock as humanity faces extinction. Where Eryn must do everything she can to save the human race, despite the fact that all of it should be so, so far over her pay grade. From an action and adventure stand point: it was a decent read; there was a lot of both action and adventure. As an existential crisis: it wasn’t bad; it tackled several surprising issues like the nature of love and friendship, parenting, existence, and perseverance. As a mystery: it was crap; a bit like playing pin-the-tail while ignoring any and all hints or clues—you’re bound to get it eventually, monkeys and Shakespeare and all. As a book though… Stars and Bones was certainly a mixed bag. It had a lot of strong points, but some weak ones as well. And there was a lot to unpack.

I believe that was the biggest problem I had with Stars and Bones: its identity. This is simply a case of trying to do to much. In its bones, this was a Science Fiction/Space Opera. But with a little bit of thriller thrown in. Political thriller too. Romance, as well. Mystery. Adventure. Allegory for life. Philosophical endeavor.

TL;DR

There’s a lot to love about Stars and Bones, partly due to the fact that there’s just so much going on in it. Too much, I’d argue. A science fiction/space opera by nature, the story tries to hit up every single genre on the way from start to finish. Thriller. Romance. Mystery. Philosophy. Existentialism. The list goes on. And in the end, there was just too much going on. Stars and Bones couldn’t seem to make up its mind on what it wanted to be. And while it pulled some of these transitions off seamlessly, others it definitely didn’t. The mystery and romance, to start. But either way a number was done on the pacing; what started out as a house on fire quickly transformed to a barnburner, then an… allegory for life? A decent read, but one that I just never could get a handle on. I promise you—there’s a good story in here somewhere, even if I could never find it.

Audio Note
I suffered a few burnouts reading this. I started it only to lose interest fairly quickly. Part of this could be down to timing—early March is a busy time of year for me, then I got the flu immediately after. But then these both happened in the early part of the story, when it’s all action all the time in Eryn’s POV, and we’re just learning the fate of Earth in Haruki’s. Eventually, I picked it up as an audiobook and read it to fruition. Rebecca Norfolk did a great job—most of the time. While her reading of Eryn and most other POVs proved excellent, whenever she contrived to do an accent it… just sounded ridiculous. Frank was passable; Sheppard and Ginet were decidedly not. The AIs were night and day; the Ocelot was great, while any others were flat and emotionless, even when they seemed to be expressing emotion.

The Girl Who Could Move Sh*t with Her Mind – by Jackson Ford (Review)

The Frost Files #1

Paranormal, Scifi

Orbit Books; June 18, 2019

497 pages (ebook)
13hr 24m (audiobook)

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3.5 / 5 ✪

If you hadn’t guessed already by the title, and you’re not the kind of person who reads books that swear, like, a lot, maybe skip this one. Just saying—I did warn you.

Being a secret agent isn’t a bad gig, but it’s not the life Teagan Frost wants. Sure, she can move shit with her mind—but she’s so much more than just that. She’s got hopes and dreams and ambitions, and being a sideshow for the government isn’t one of them. Still, it’s better than being dissected, which is the only other legitimate “life” she has access to. But at least that option is closed off—at least for now.

But when a body turns up on site at her last job, killed in a way only she could ever have managed, dissection is—somewhat literally—back on the table. Now, the ambitious telekinetic has 20 hours to clear her name, a deadline not even the government seems likely to honor. Soon enough, her team is on the run, with only Teagan and her PK the reason they haven’t been caught yet.

At least it’s only the government that’s chasing them.

Or it would be if not for the rogue telekinetic she’s chasing, the notorious LA gang she’s pissed off, and the army of police that have been on the lookout for her ever since the murder. Now if only she could focus on that and not worry about her love-life getting in the way, or her past coming back to haunt her, or her friends falling into danger because of her own choices… she could maybe have a normal life. Maybe.

I’ve never actually finished a book by Rob Boffard before. Figures that the first one I do get through, it’s written under a pseudonym.

The Girl Who Could Move Shit with Her Mind isn’t exactly a literary masterpiece. It’s a good bit of high-octane, heart-pounding action. It’s a thriller that doesn’t let up, but a thriller all the same. Swearing ain’t exactly an art form, but even if it were, this book wouldn’t exactly be a work of art. Still, the writing’s not bad, the dialogue isn’t bad, and the plot sure isn’t bad either. None of these things are terribly innovative, but it’s still an entertaining read.

The plot is fairly straightforward. Teagan has been falsely accused of murder and has one day to prove her innocence. She has to call in every favor, cut every corner, and make every gamble she can in order to yada yada yada. Again, it’s not that this is a bad read, it’s just that it’s not very inventive or creative. Other than the bit about a telekinetic, it’s basically every thriller that’s ever been written. Which is all just a way to say that it better at least be entertaining.

Which it is.

I got through The Girl That Could in about a week, listening to it in my downtime approaching Christmas, partly because I was stuck at home with little else to do but read. And it was interesting, entertaining, and immersive. I didn’t pick it up because I was after something deep or thought-provoking, which is good, because it’s really not those things. This was a good, quick, entertaining thriller that does a lot of things right, despite not being terribly creative nor having an immaculate prose.

That said, the romance was a bit of a miss. With everything leading up to it, and everything else going on, I didn’t feel like there was really a chance for anything all that romantic to get a foothold. And the way that it ended, when it was finally given some time to, like, be romantic, was a joke. In some sense, it’s good that I didn’t sell out on the romance from the very beginning, because when it finally was given some time—and fell flat—I wasn’t surprised.

TL;DR

I’m going to keep this pretty short. If you’re after a thoughtful, intricate, and drawn out mystery, complete with deep, erudite characters and an innovative plot—this ain’t it. If instead you’re after a quick, entertaining thriller, with enough violence, language, and action to keep you immersed—yeah, this certainly fills that void. I wouldn’t expect it to win any literary awards or anything. I would buy this one, and the next (which I have, by the way), and schedule the two for sometime when I needed something quick, entertaining, and not too deep.

Audio Note: I quite enjoyed the narration of Lauren Patten! In fact, I doubt that I’d have enjoyed this book as much as I did without her behind the mouth of Teagan. She really sold Frost’s casual do-not-give-a-fuck attitude, even in the points where her character was completely freaking out. And I hear that she’s returned in the second installment, Random Sh*t Flying Through the Air, which I’ve already gone out and purchased.

The Butterfly House – by Katrine Engberg (Review)

Kørner & Werner #2

Mystery, Detective, Nordic Noir

Gallery/Scout Press; January 5, 2021

349 pages (ebook)
10hr 1m (audiobook)

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8 / 10 ✪

Beware minor spoilers for the Tenant by Katrine Engberg, Book #1 of the series.

My Review of the Tenant – by Katrine Engberg

An overworked and under-appreciated nurse in Copenhagen’s national hospital takes upon herself to rid the ward of a nuisance. An older patient overdoses on his heart medication and enters cardiac arrest, releasing him and everyone around him from his very vocal suffering. She slips out, stealthily, sure to close the door upon exit.

Six days earlier, a body was discovered in a fountain in central Copenhagen. The dead woman was naked and posed, with small and precise incisions marking her arms and nary a speck of blood to be found. Cause of death: exsanguination—not that it’s clear. From what the first on the scene can tell, the woman might as well have never had any blood at all.

Or there are vampires loose in Denmark.

Lead Investigator Jeppe Kørner arrives on the scene, albeit without his erstwhile partner, Anette Werner, now on pregnancy leave. And so it is up to Kørner to solve this himself. Which he must do with the entire attention of Copenhagen tracking his progress, as the cause and manner of death soon draw media attention.

While Jeppe is struggling with the press of a major case, Anette is struggling with a newborn she never asked for, never expected to have. Pregnancy leave is boring, it turns out, with nothing to do but assess and reassess how exactly this came to pass. She wants—needs—to do something, anything else. And so Werner throws herself into Jeppe’s new case, albeit with no backup, no departmental approval, and no way to tell her husband the truth of the matter. After all, who would believe that she is just avoiding the attentions of her newborn, and the relaxation having a baby demands?

But the case itself is no escape. Soon the pair uncover the greed and ambition that lurks beneath the surface of the shockingly lucrative practice of caregiving to mental health patients. And just what some will do for power, wealth, or status. And when a person decides to drain another of blood, it’s not likely to be a one-off. The first life is always the hardest to take, so the saying goes.

The dynamic duo return! If you’re not familiar with the Nordic languages, Werner and Kørner go quite well together, if not exactly rhyming. Feel free to look it up, or just take my word for it. While the Tenant focused on the issues the two had while working a case together, the Butterfly House instead focuses on the two working apart, each one tackling the case alone. Because of course Anette Werner can’t exactly tell her partner she’s investigating an open (and classified) police case rogue, and neither can Jeppe talk through his theories with her. And if the Tenant demonstrated just how well these two work together, this is indicative of how much worse they are apart. Not that that’s a spoiler; it’s common that in matters such as these, two heads are better than one. And Kørner and Werner, despite their faults—or perhaps because of them—work quite well together. So it’s very interesting to see how poorly they work on their own, apart.

In the last novel, Kørner was struggling through a particularly nasty divorce. And while he had his oldest and best friend helping him through it, it was more than enough to keep his body and mind functioning amidst the overwhelming heartache and depression. But it’s been a whole book since, and Jeppe is back on more solid ground. Back, but not fully healed. He is seeing someone—his colleague, Detective Sarah Saidani—but is it for casual sex, or is there something more? While not everyone may agree, I like the inclusion of a detective’s personal life in a mystery such as this. It helps paint them as human; with strengths and weaknesses that affect their professional lives the same as anyone else.

This mystery was about the same level of Nordic Noir as the last: that being… somewhat, but not overwhelmingly so. It still isn’t exactly sunny and warm, but also nowhere near the dark and oppressive atmosphere found in similar works by Ragnar Jónasson or Jo Nesbø. Additionally, the Butterfly House ties up all loose ends quite nicely—even the most obscure ones. I left the novel feeling a sense of fulfillment, with no lingering questions to answer.

Well, almost.

My two biggest problems with the text center around the inclusion of some characters while others are left out. Esther de Laurenti and her friend Gregor (the landlady and tenant from Book #1) are back—for some reason. I mean, they kinda relate to an offshoot of the overarching plot, but just at the end. For the most part, I found their inclusion baffling, and their chapters a meander from the otherwise greatly immersive main mystery. But with their inclusion, comes a bizarre absence. Johannes—Jeppe’s oldest and best friend, who helped him through the lowest lows of his divorce in Book #1—is gone. I mean, we still see quite a lot of Jeppe’s personal life, but there’s just one offhand mention of the man—nothing more.

There’s one other thing I wanted to address. One of my biggest issues with the Tenant was the division of the partnership. That being—while Kørner and Werner shared the headliner, it was Kørner who hogged the spotlight. I mentioned that I’d quite like to see this addressed in Book #2. And it was. Jeppe Kørner and Anette Werner much more equally share the spotlight. It’s great! And a pattern I hope will continue as we approach Book #3, the Harbour.

TL;DR

Where Anette Werner and Jeppe Kørner united in an unstoppable but entirely human combination in the Tenant, the two return in the Butterfly House to investigate the murder—separately. It’s quite the change of pace, albeit one that sees them more equally share the spotlight—both in their professional and personal lives. But while these highlight several rewarding alterations from the initial entry, there are a couple equally baffling choices. Especially the inclusion of two characters from the murders of Book #1, which have little to nothing to do with those in Book #2. Honestly I felt that their chapters detracted somewhat from the overall flow. But despite this, the story is quite good. And quite immersive. The crime and the detectives are on full display—not just in their investigation, but in their personal lives as well. It does a lot to cast them as human: with their own faults and insecurities, strengths and weaknesses. There’s also a open and ofttimes blunt discussion of mental health. Not only does the plot center on it, but so much of the detectives’ personal lives delve into it as well. From Kørner’s natural anxiety, and depression following his recent divorce; to Werner’s postpartum depression following her pregnancy; to the advantage taken on mental patients in the country’s caregiving programs—it addresses so much of what in my youth was swept under the rug and avoided. While I found this refreshing to bring to light, it was a bit uncomfortable for me as well. I’ve always had terrible anxiety but the overwhelming feeling when I was younger was that it was something best avoided in conversation, something that someone should deal with on their own and best hidden. Nowadays it is much more out in the open—which is great—but it still fills me with the same reluctance and discomfort whenever it’s addressed. Call it habit. Anyway, whether or not you find these things an issue, just be aware that they are front and center, central to the plot of the Butterfly House.

I’d definitely recommend this, and the rest of the series! Especially with the release of the Harbour—Book #3 of Kørner and Werner, out February 22, 2022.

Audio Note: Graeme Malcolm returns from his awesome performance in the Tenant, where he did an amazing job of bringing the Copenhagen crime world to life. I’m happy to report that the Butterfly House is a repeat performance, and I had no trouble drinking in his dulcet tones and immersing myself in the world while this Scandinavian thriller unfolded around me.

The Tenant – by Katrine Engberg (Review)

Kørner & Werner #1

Mystery, Thriller

Gallery Books; January 14, 2020

368 pages (ebook)
10hr 21m (audiobook)

GoodreadsStoryGraph

Author Instagram

3.5 / 5 ✪

I wouldn’t exactly class this as “Scandinavian dark” (or true Nordic) noir, but it’s not exactly bright and sunny, insomuch as murder mysteries ever are.

After a young woman is discovered brutally murdered in her downstairs apartment, we get our introduction to Police Detectives Jeppe Kørner and Anette Werner. They make up part of the Copenhagen homicide department, and are seen as a dynamic duo (if only because their names rhyme).

First thing they notice are the intricate patterns painstakingly carved into her face. Add to it the depraved, if “artistic”, juxtaposed nature of the crime—is all it takes for the pair to decide that they’re not dealing with a typical killer, instead one whose lust for murder is likely not yet sated. All done even before they discover the victim’s name.

Julie Stender was a tenant at the flat of Esther de Laurenti; landlady, patron of the arts, and budding novelist. As it so happens, Julie was a key character in Esther’s new crime novel. She was, in fact, the murder victim.

But is Esther the murderer, or is she just another victim? People certainly have done stranger things for fame, but the detectives question if she had the physical prowess to restrain the girl, let alone carve her up. And while her novel featured Julie as its lone victim—it remains unpublished. In fact, only a chosen few had access to it, and after interviewing them, Kørner and Werner are left with no great options. Almost everyone connected to the crime has an alibi. Except Esther. But has she blurred the lines between art and insanity, or are Kørner and Werner seeking a different killer, one that may yet strike again?

I picked this up after reading Mogsy’s review of it—where she classes it as a bit of a classic whodunnit. And after reading it… yeah, I’m inclined to agree. If you’re not familiar with Nordic Noir, then you’re in for an experience. Not that I would class this as nordic noir—it’s not as dark as Ragnar Jónasson or Jo Nesbø—it’s more of a crime thriller, mystery with dark Scandinavian vibes, but it’s not too gritty. But then Denmark is one of the happiest countries in the world. And you can kinda tell from this—if only by contrast.

The characters are fairly well developed and grow and change over the course of the text—or, well, Kørner does. And Esther, I suppose. I really would’ve expected a well-thought out character like Anette Werner to experience more growth, but don’t get to know her very well in this. While this is remedied in the second book, I really would’ve liked to see more from one of the two title characters. Jeppe certainly has his time in the spotlight; it’s a shame that Anette doesn’t share it.

Though a crime drama, noir mystery, thriller what-have-you, the Tenant is about more than the murder of Julie Stender. Yes, we get to explore Julie’s life—all the choices that led to this, that made her her, that ultimately contributed to her life and death and the fallout from each—but we get to see a lot more besides. Esther gets more time in the spotlight than I was expecting (while as I’ve previously mentioned Anette Werner does not). She actually makes quite an interesting character, though most of what we’re focused on (as she is as well) is the murder itself. Jeppe Kørner, on the other hand, gets to live more than just the case. We see a career cop, fresh off a divorce that’s almost ruined his life. His attempt to get his life together while attempting to avoid alienating all the people his still cares about is one that many of us can relate to—even if we haven’t all been through a messy divorce. Through this book, Kørner tries to compartmentalize the case from his personal life, with varying levels of success. His love, sex, social, and private lives are all laid bare. Though his job may not have always been so deeply connected to his identity before his life came to shambles, one thing becomes increasingly clear: it’s not just another case. This time, it really is personal.

TL;DR

Overall, this was a great read and a good crime thriller. It’s not perfect, but combines an interesting story and adequately perplexing mystery with realistic characters and an immersive setting. Though Copenhagen may be one of the fabled happiest cities in the world, the whole story has a decidedly dark twist to it—something that the story is decidedly better for! Though some aspects—character depth and development, especially—could certainly do with improvement, their deficiencies were more understandable (if not entirely forgivable) given that it is a debut series. If you’re not familiar with nordic noir, this is an excellent place to start as it’s not quite the bleak torrent that you might find in other such contemporary works.

The series continues with The Butterfly House, Book #2 of Kørner & Werner, out since 2018.

The Last Legacy – by Adrienne Young (Review)

Fable #3

Fantasy, YA, Romance

Wednesday Books; September 7, 2021 (US)
Titan; January 18, 2022 (UK)

327 pages (ebook)
8hr 16m (audiobook)

GoodreadsStoryGraph

Author Website

4.0 / 5 ✪

I was kindly granted an advance copy in exchange for an honest review. This in no way affects my bias. Many thanks to Titan for the ARC! All opinions are my own.

When Bryn Roth relocates from her childhood home of Nimsmire to the port of Bastian, she does it to take her place in the Roth Household, on the expectation that not only will she be welcomed with open arms, but these people—her kin—will soon become the family she never knew. After all, it’s everything she was raised to believe. And, when Henrik summoned her via letter on her eighteenth birthday, it all but confirmed this. Bastian, the Roth household were her destiny, her birthright. One that Bryn is prepared to prove she is due.

But life—as it so often does—fails to live up to Bryn’s dreams.

While Henrik now holds a Merchant’s Ring, it doesn’t take Bryn long to learn that the family is still embroiled in the underworld, still cloaked in shadow. But with Bryn on board, the family is at last trying to legitimize. And Henrik needs Bryn to do so.

This is Bryn’s chance to achieve everything she’s ever dreamed, and she’ll do almost anything to see it through.

Almost. For what Henrik has in mind not only banks on skills she doesn’t possess, but also twists her sense of morality. And that’s just to begin with. For it turns out what Bryn thinks is the entire plan for her is just the start. Henrik has much more in store for her, and Bryn is forced to ask herself an important question: are her dreams worth so much that she’s willing to sacrifice everything, even her own life and freedom to achieve them?

But there’s also a footnote. One in the form of a mysterious and often brusque silversmith. Even after a few days in Bastian Bryn can’t stand looking at him. Though once she does… she can’t look away. But the silversmith isn’t family, and is the one thing that’s off limits to her. As if that was ever something to have stopped a Roth.

The Last Legacy is the third installment in the Fable series, but can easily be read as a standalone. While some of the characters are shared, the narrator changes from the first two entries (Fable to Bryn), and there are only very minor spoilers to the rest of the sequence. Bryn’s own story is set after Fable’s own, after the events at the end of Namesake. Some things will be clearer if you read those others first, but there’s nothing (much) earthshaking that you’ll miss should you decide to skip ahead. Nothing that will spoil Fable’s own story, at least.

With a plot that was better than that of the first two books, and a message that was much, more clearer, the Last Legacy was born to be a much better read. True, the romance isn’t as good, so if you read a story just for the romance you may be disappointed. Seeing as how I don’t, it wasn’t too big a deal, but whatever “romance” is in this seems to be just explained away with the old adage: “love is blind; it doesn’t have to make sense”. Which is good, because it very much doesn’t, especially at first.

I think my favorite character in the Last Legacy is Henrik. It’s not because I relate to or admire him—the man’s an ass. But he’s so complicated; it’s hard not to be fascinated by him. The man will do anything to protect and guide his family to success, but he will also allow none to cross him, including his blood. He has a hard but bleeding heart, and will go to the ends of the earth for his family—even for Bryn, whom he has not seen since she was a child. But then he’ll turn around and sacrifice anyone in order to achieve his goals, blood be damned. It’s this split personality, this seemingly contradicting nature that makes him so fascinating!

At first, I actually took it for bad writing. But he’s written so consistently—flipping between the two extremes often at the drop of a pin. Above everything, Henrik is ambitious. He’s willing to do anything, sacrifice anyone in order to achieve this ambition. But under it all, he has the desire to be loved by his kin, and often looks after them with the care and love of a doting parent—so long as it does not clash with his ambition. I’m not sure you’ll have met anyone like this before, but I have, and Henrik’s portrayal is spot on. So spot on that it’s both mesmerizing and incredibly unnerving.

I’m just going to skirt the edge of the romance here as I don’t want to complain about it constantly. Bryn shows up. She and Ezra butt heads. Then she can’t get enough of him and vice versa. And by unspoken consent they’re destined to fall head over heels—with little to no actual contact. Yes, I’ve heard of love at first sight. This isn’t it. It’s more… loathing at first sight, then love at fifth or sixth. The 180˚ isn’t gradual, but it’s not instantaneous either. It’s just abrupt—and annoying.

The Last Legacy is very much a book about dreams; what Bryn wants, what she’ll accept instead, how her dreams change and grow when confronted with reality, and at last of what achieving these dreams will cost her. For in life it’s so rare to have one concrete, consistent, never-changing dream. So often to be human is to waffle; to question what one wants, to wrestle with the consequences of achieving it. This is the real plot of the Last Legacy—and it changes with the development of Bryn’s own character. But what does she want, and what will she accept? Whether Bryn wants something she can’t have is a ridiculous question; we all want something that we can’t have, that will never come to pass. Just some of us accept this, while others don’t. Will Bryn accept what she can’t have and move on, or persist in achieving something that will never happen, even as her world crumbles around her?

Audio Note: As usual, Suzy Jackson does an excellent job in her portrayal of Bryn. It was so easy to imagine Bryn’s closeted, often sheltered upbringing and her subsequent transformation upon the streets of Bastian. Should you read this as an ebook or physical book, or an audiobook instead, I doubt it’ll make much difference. No matter your preference, the world comes to life quite well!

Black Water Sister – by Zen Cho (Review)

Standalone

Fantasy, Paranormal

Ace Books; May 11, 2021

380 pages (ebook)
11hr 37m (audiobook)

GoodreadsStoryGraph
Author Website

4 / 5 ✪

Jessamyn Teoh is fresh out of Harvard, and the world is her oyster! Realistically though, she’s got just about nothing—no waiting job, no place to live, a mountain of student debt—and so decides to move back to Malaysia with her parents, where she hasn’t lived since her parents immigrated to America when she was a toddler.

But Malaysia may not be the clean start she was looking for. Here, Jess is still broke and unemployed, living with relatives who condescend to her, and a state that condemns her for the way she was born. Not that her girlfriend would ever visit her here. Malaysia is one thing, but what would her family say? Jess is still very much in the closet, although her very supportive girlfriend wishes she wasn’t. A girlfriend she rarely gets to see and talk to, done entirely over video chats and messages in the dead of night.

Her life can’t get much worse. Or so Jess thinks.

…Until she starts hearing voices. Voices claiming to be the manifestation of her dead grandmother’s spirit, speaking to Jess as their medium. In life Ah Ma was the medium for the mysterious and powerful minor deity known as the Black Water Sister, but in death she is a powerful spirit with a grudge—one that just happens to be against a gang boss and his family.

And now this grudge is Jess’s also, drawing her deeply into the world of ghosts, gods, crime, and secrets, any one of which would be enough to get her killed. But while she begins to gain attention from all the wrong places, Jess is willing to admit that it’s not all bad. At least she has a purpose, a place, something to do with her time—at least until she catches the Black Water Sister’s eye.

Moving to Malaysia may not have been the best choice.

Black Water Sister may be an inspirational read for any number of reasons—it features a gay protagonist living in a society that is incredibly against that sort of thing; it’s a coming-of-age, or finding-ones-place-in-the-world kinda thing, something that very much appeals to so many, regardless of age; it tells the tale of a culture, history, and point of view that maybe you weren’t used to—but it’s very much not because of the overwhelming positivity and support. This isn’t what I would call a “bright and sunny” read. It’s quite dark in places: with murder, violence, language, not to mention an attempted rape scene.

While Jessamyn’s orientation begins as just a detail amidst the larger plot, more and more I felt it attempt to take center stage, as Jess struggles to hide who she is from her parents and friends, all the while suffering the strain that this puts on her relationship with her girlfriend. In fact, this adds more and more tension to the overall plot approaching the end, but sadly leaves us without any true resolution come the conclusion.

If you came for the gods and ghosts, the good news is you’re likely staying for them. The story is interesting, turning to entertaining and fast-paced once it gets going. The setting—Penang, Malaysia—is as varied as it is vivid; not to mention an exotic setting that you might not have heard of. Penang has been called the Silicon Valley of the East, and is representative of a liberal and culturally diverse Malaysia, if there even is such a thing in this secular Islamic state. I loved the depiction of the various temples and gods, the underworld and its outward veneer.

But it’s how Jess relates to the country that really sells the story. While she hasn’t lived in Malaysia since she was a toddler, since her parents emigrated from the country in search of a better life for their daughter, Jess has been back. A few times, for visits. But visiting a place and living there are two entirely different experiences. And it’s how she explores these experiences—as a native Malaysian who left, received an Western education, was dosed in “liberal, global culture”, and returned—that affects how the story is told. I quite enjoyed all of it: from the ghosts and gods, to the gangs and underworld; to her parents’ struggle to reconnect with their previous livelihoods; to Jess’s own to establish herself, discover the person she is, to live and to grow, all the while struggling whether or not to come out to her parents, to her family, to legitimize her girlfriend and their relationship. It’s quite the tale, quite the book.

TL;DR

Black Water Sister is a tale of love and acceptance, of hope and defeat, of darkness, death, and growth. Of understanding one’s place, and finding one’s way in the world. There are also gods and ghosts. A gay lead who is very much in the closet and determined to stay there, while her very supportive girlfriend wishes she wouldn’t. It’s about cultural diaspora—of a native daughter returning home only to find it so far from where she remembered. It’s about the past and one’s family—of how blood is blood and kin is kin, but sometimes their actions fade and should be forgotten while others should be remembered above all else. Black Water Sister is a story about a daughter’s quest for acceptance. A girl’s journey to become a woman. A woman’s quest to find what she wants out of life, of who and what she wants to become. While it’s not a perfect story, so little is in this life. Black Water Sister tells a human story of a very human girl/woman (albeit one who can talk to/see gods and ghosts). I’d definitely recommend it to anyone, but especially lovers of paranormal, supernatural, fantasy, urban fantasy above all else.

Audio Note: Catherine Ho does an excellent job bringing Jessamyn Toeh to life! There were a few minor missteps, but I’d chalk those up to being “how do I relate this feeling simply through words” rather than anything the narrator could’ve improved on. I read Black Water Sister as an audiobook in just under three days, and cannot recommend it in this format enough! I can’t wait to see more of Zen Cho and Catherine Ho in the future!

Salvation – by Peter F. Hamilton (Review)

Salvation Sequence #1

Space Opera, Scifi

Pan; September 6, 2018 (UK)
Del Rey; September 4, 2018 (US)

552 pages (hardcover)
19hr 3m (audiobook)

GoodreadsAuthor Website

2.5 / 5 ✪

Salvation begins another Peter F. Hamilton special: a grand space opera where humanity has expanded across the stars via wormholes. As always, this grand plan is very complex, very detailed, and prone to convolution. In fact, Salvation may be the best example of this out of all his work to date. Let me explain.

The Olyix were welcomed to Earth during our brightest hour—a Golden Age of effective human immortality where our influence spans the universe, and our colonies stretch across the stars. They required fuel for their pilgrimage across the galaxy—for which they offered to help advance our technology with their own. But is this another instance of humanity’s hubris sure to bring about our downfall, or is it a friendship that will last until the end of time as the resulting empire spans the stars?

Only time will tell.

AD 2204

When an alien shipwreck is discovered on a planet at the edge of human-explored space, its cargo finishes what its very existence began in raising a few eyebrows. The cargo however, stokes humanity’s wildest dreams, and their most terrible nightmares.

17 humans, taken from Earth, held in suspended animation, bound for and taken by an unknown threat that at the very least was not human.

Security Director Feriton Kayne is tasked with investigating this anomaly—and he handpicks a team to help him assess this threat. Kandara Martinez, corporate mercenary; Yuri Alister, Kayne’s director and architect of the whole mission; Loi Zangari, Alister’s technical advisor; Alik Monday, FBI Special Detective; Callum Hepburn, senior advisor within the Utopial culture orbiting Akitha; Eldlund, Hepburn’s utopial assistant, genetically altered to be both male and female; Jessika Mye, Hepburn’s second assistant and renowned exobiologist. And, of course, Kayne himself. Together, the eight form the most impressive team the director could imagine—he just hopes it will be enough.

Kayne needs every member of the team if he’s to address this new threat. All of them, but especially one vital member. He doesn’t know which member this is, exactly, but he does know one thing about them: they’re not human.

THE FAR FUTURE

Dellian and Yirella lead a team of genetically engineered super-soldiers with but one purpose in life: to confront and destroy their most hated enemy, the one that caused mankind’s near-extinction and resulting flight across the stars. Their goal is simple: destroy the enemy. Otherwise, humanity will be wiped from existence.

Salvation is the kind of story you’d never see from a debut author. The way it is told—through extended narratives and flashbacks, occurrences in 3+ different timelines with a story that constant jumps between them, and threads that didn’t seem to relate at all right up until the end—makes it so tortuous, and in many ways convoluted, pretty much assures that no mainstream publisher would touch it. But if you’re Peter F. Hamilton; established, famed, known for stories that span multiple time-periods, and a love of wormhole technology—well, you can get away with such things.

It’s not that Salvation tells a rotten story—the plot is very immersive and entertaining, at times—it’s just that it’s really hard to see just where the author is going with it, and incredibly easy to get lost in the labyrinth of the author’s narrative. Upon picking it up, I was spellbound for a time, but it soon wore off.

See, it’s the way this is told that’s the problem. The Assessment Team occupies the majority of the text. But their plot is divided between the present day (AD 2204) and the stories they tell about their experiences in the past (i.e. why Kayne has chosen them for the team), which can be set anywhere from 2092 to 2199 AD. These stories averaged about 2.5 hours per chapter, or 75 pages, but in the case of Callum-Yuri: Head to Head lasted over 5 hours. While these tangents were often quite interesting, they had mostly little to do with the overarching plot. In fact, it was Callum/Yuri’s that was the biggest issue. Set 60 pages into the book, this flashback lasted over 150 pages, so when I got back to what was happening at the present, around 6 hours had passed.

Now you may have noticed that my math didn’t exactly square up in that last example. This is because while the story jumps in time between the Assessment Team’s present and past, it also jumps between the Assessment Team’s narration and events in the far future, following a team of super-soldiers. So imagine you’re less than one-tenth of the way into a book: the plot has just got going, the setting keeps changing, and time has jumped from the present to the far future and back once or twice. Now, you spend the next quarter of the text off in a random memory that doesn’t connect to anything you’ve read thus far. And then you’re back in the future, where it expects you to remember what the hell is going on.

I enjoyed the stories. I enjoyed the book, to a point. I mean, that’s the only reason I finished the stupid thing (that and I’ve heard the second is much more linear). But I couldn’t for the life of me remember what was going on. It was infuriating.

The sheer disconnected nature of this book requires either intense patience and fortitude, fond familiarity with the author, or a complete leap of faith on the reader’s part. The sheer size of this is also an impediment—I mean, this was an interesting book; the life stories of each of the characters, the grand plan coming together thread by thread, the situation in the present indicating at least some of the crew had survived that long. But damned if it didn’t take its damn time getting to the point. I was interested in everyone’s stories, but taking them like that—while just abandoning whatever plot there was—was an incredibly bold, arrogant and stupid move.

TL;DR

So, I’ve heard good things about the second book in the Salvation Sequence—Salvation Lost. And I do plan to continue with the series. Those who’ve read to the point might be surprised, but there are a couple reasons. First off, I actually left Salvation wondering what was going to happen next. Second, I legitimately enjoyed the story. Third—and most importantly—I’ve heard that Book #2 is much more linear. There are still time-skips to the future, but these are spread out between 4-6 chapters set in the present, with nary a flashback in sight. If you just skipped to this point: yeah, I kinda don’t blame you. I went off on a pretty good rant there, but this book deserved it. I maintain that the author never would’ve gotten away with publishing this mess had he not already been well-established and much-loved. So, instead of rehashing my thoughts, here’s this: If you’ve not read Peter F. Hamilton before—DO NOT READ THIS BOOK! GO back and read some of his other stuff first. If you’ve read some Peter F. Hamilton and are familiar with the way he does things, and you’re a fan of space opera, and long drawn-out stories, and don’t mind a time-skip or two—go ahead and pick this one up.

Audio Note: As always, the narration by John Lee was amazing. Heck, it probably rescued this one from the embers of what should’ve been a fire long dead. He was likely the only reason I continued with this story, and even then I had to switch between reading the hardcover (where I focused on the far future) and listening to him narrate the exploits of the Assessment Team. If you’re not familiar with John Lee, dude is a legend. He’s the reader for all the Peter F. Hamilton and Alastair Reynolds space opera. I would totally recommend giving him a try. Just, maybe, not this book.