Tag: novel

Protection for Hire, by Camy Tang

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Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆

Tessa Lancaster, the co-protagonist of this exceptionally well-written novel set in San Francisco and the Bay area, is Asian-American (as is the author), the daughter of an ethnic Japanese mother and an Anglo father, who abandoned his family when Tessa was a child. While Japanese people tend to be short-statured, she inherited a tall physique from the Lancaster side, and also took martial arts lessons (courtesy of her maternal uncle Teruo) as a bullied kid. Being something of a tomboy to start with, and having a fraught relationship with her girly-girl sister and their mother (who favored the sister), she early took to hanging out a lot with her male cousins. They weren’t the greatest moral influence, since the males on that side of the family all belonged to the Yakuza, Japan’s equivalent of the Mafia; and Teruo headed up the San Francisco branch.

Starting at age 16, she went to work for him as an enforcer. Over the next seven years, fighting to earn and maintain respect in a family/organization steeped in a traditionally sexist culture that definitely devalues women, she acquired a well-deserved reputation for toughness, combat skills, and willingness to inflict considerable mayhem on opponents (though her aunt and essentially second mother Kayoko, Teruo’s wife, saw to it that she wasn’t tasked with actually killing anybody). The Prologue shows us how, at the age of 23, out of love for her uncle, she voluntarily took the blame for the crime when Teruo’s piece-of-trash son Freddie killed his girlfriend in a temper fit.

Our main story begins seven years later. Tessa served a seven-year sentence for manslaughter; the terms of her plea-bargain had called for a maximum of five, but the judge added two more, on the recommendation (although Tessa doesn’t know that part) of his clerk and case-background researcher, recent law school graduate Charles Britton. She’s been a Christian (also like the author) for three years, but the last two years in prison were especially painful; when Kayoko died, Tessa couldn’t visit her in the hospital, nor attend the funeral. Having been out now for about three months, she’s living with her mom, vainly looking for a job (not easy with her prison record and known Yakuza connections!), steadfastly refusing her uncle’s insistent invitations to take up her old job, and donating time as a volunteer at a battered women’s shelter. (Long story!)

That’s where she meets Elizabeth St. Amant, a young woman married to an abusive private-equity mogul –and who bolted, with their child, the first time her husband hit the little boy instead of her. Afraid for her life (with good reason), she hires Tessa as a bodyguard. (Of course, she can’t actually pay her right away; being from a wealthy family herself, she has money of her own, but for now hubby’s managed to tie it all up.) Elizabeth’s family connections are about to throw co-protagonist Charles (now a full-fledged lawyer) into Tessa’s path again. All three are about to embark on a suspenseful and mortally dangerous adventure, which will involve more mystery than meets the eye, organized crime, murder and mayhem, and some serious moral decisions for both main characters.

While the book is written in third person, Tessa and Charles alternate as our viewpoint characters. This is a serious novel, dealing with some important issues, involving life-and-death stakes, and evoking heavy-duty emotions that are often not of a pleasant sort. As mysteries go, though it has no bad language or explicit sex, it’s not really what I’d see as “cozy;” there’s a fair amount of violence. (Tessa can’t pack a gun like she did in her Yakuza days, because of the terms of her “parole” –I’m not sure why that should be a factor, since she served her full sentence, but I haven’t researched the law– but her martial arts skills, and ability to handle dangerous driving maneuvers, are put to the test several times here, and she’s no slouch in either department. Tang handles action scenes well.)

But it’s also, in places, genuinely funny; the author has a good understanding of the value of comic relief, and endows both of our main characters with a wry sense of humor. (Barb and I read this together, and the interactions between both of them with their families had us both laughing aloud in places.) Our viewpoint characters’ honest reflections about, and attempts to live out, their Christian faith adds a spiritual depth to the book, but doesn’t come across as particularly “preachy.” It’s not a spoiler to say that Tessa and Charles are attracted to each other, physically and as persons; but the relationship is …complicated. We’re given a well-crafted, page-turning plot with some surprises. All of these factors make for a read that easily earns five stars.

Though raised in Hawaii, evangelical (and prolific!) author Tang now lives in San Jose, in the Bay area; she exhibits a solid knowledge of the area that enhances her tale. This book is the start of a duology (Barb and I have started reading the second book); but she’s written, by Goodreads’ count, 121 “distinct works” altogether under her own name and 75 more under her “Camille Elliot” pen name, which she uses for romantic and/or espionage-themed historical fiction set in the Regency milieu. Following this first experience with her work, I’d certainly be open to reading more of it (besides the sequel)!

Author: Camy Tang
Publisher: Zondervan; available through Amazon, currently only as a printed book.
Book 1 of 2 in the Protection for Hire series. A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Daughter of Sparta, by Claire Andrews

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Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆

The author says, “My goal was to bring to light the often-underappreciated women of Greek myth and history—I wanted to give these women the stories they deserved.” It’s a somewhat odd goal, given there’s not exactly a shortage of them already. Hard to call the likes of Zeus’s wife Hera, goddess of war Athena, or Artemis the huntress particularly “underappreciated.” But what Andrews has done here specifically, is flip the script on the myth of Apollo and Daphne. Originally, it was the story of Apollo’s relentless pursuit of wood nymph Daphne, who ended up becoming a laurel tree to escape him.

That is, understandably, far too stalkery for modern consumption. In this version, Daphne lives in Sparta, and is a strong warrior. However, because she was not born there, she is destined to remain a Mothakes, an outsider. Regardless, she is still the gods’ choice, when they need someone mortal. Their divine abilities are waning, after someone has kidnapped the Muses, “the source of all the power of Olympus”, home to the gods. Daphne is compelled by Artemis to go on a mission to find and free them, with Apollo alongside her. This sends our heroine across the entire Hellenic region, encountering deities both benign and malevolent, as well as facing mythical creatures like the Minotaur, ending with a journey into Tartarus, where the souls of the wicked are punished. 

As a reversal, it’s fairly well-done. It reminded me of the other quest stories which pepper Greek mythology, such as the twelve labours of Hercules. I particularly liked how the gods covered the whole spectrum of characters. Artemis, for example, while clearly acting in the best interests of Olympus, has no hesitation in forcing Daphne’s co-operation, by transforming those near and dear to her, into animals. Determining where the loyalties of the others lie can sometimes be tricky, though if you’ve seen Wonder Woman, you’ll not be surprised by Ares’s allegiance. Daphne’s character arc over the course of her adventures was also an effective one, and she becomes battle-hardened, taking damage to the point she can barely walk by the final encounter.

I was considerably less convinced by the, sadly, inevitable romance which was developed between our heroine and Apollo. There were points where I would have welcomed turning into a tree myself, to escape it. The presence of so many deities, all with infinite powers, does become a bit of a “Get out of jail free” card on a couple of occasions, though the limitations resulting from the missing Muses do prevent this from becoming an excessive crutch. It’s an interesting twist on mythology, albeit one which has to bang a few square pegs in, to mould the narrative to its desired ends. I wouldn’t call it any better than the classical stories. Just a little different, and that’s no bad thing. 

Author: Claire Andrews
Publisher: ‎ Little Brown Books, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Daughter of Sparta series.

A Beautiful Place to Die, by Christopher Greyson

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Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆½

Kiku is an assassin for the Yakuza. Except, it’s complicated, in a whole variety of ways. Her current mission is to track down Alex Harris, who might or might not be the son of Takeo. He’s the head of the Yakuza in the United States, and the son of Kenzo, who is its overall leader. Takeo was also Kiku’s lover in the past. There’s also Jiro, who is Takeo’s half-brother, who is kidnapped by the Russian mob after the son of their boss is gunned down as part of a turf war with the Yakuza, and subsequently rescued by Kiku. Which is why tracking down Alex, before the Russians do, is suddenly of paramount importance. 

But, wait! For there’s more… There’s a mole in the Yakuza, passing information regarding Kiku’s every move to her Russian enemies, who want to make sure she does not succeed. Then there’s Kenzo’s half-brother, Daichi, whom Kiku helped get out of the gangster life, at the cost of a finger. He is now a farmer in Texarkana, but offers perhaps her best hope of succeeding – although comes with baggage of his own. He’s a half-breed, having had a Chinese mother, which unites him with Kiku, who is also not of pure Japanese blood, being half Korean. Her parents died when she was five, and the orphan eventually became a smuggler for the Yakuza. 

Did I mention it’s complicated? I will admit, there are points where I felt like I needed a scorecard to tell the players, especially the various interchangeable parts of the Japanese criminal organization. The way Kiku ends up caring for Alex, will come as no surprise to anyone who has seen The Three Faces of Gloria. It’s almost contractual that, when a female assassin has to look after a child, long-buried maternal instincts will inevitably bubble their way to the surface. I think the characterization here is probably the weakest element, with just about everyone feeling like they are a grab-bag of tropes, from the bratty teenager through the stoic samurai, to the troubled assassin who decides to rebel against the organization which formed her. 

It’s still an entertaining enough read that I was satisfied, with some good action set-pieces, such as when the Russians launch an assault on the safe house where Kiku and Alex are temporarily holed up. Some parts are a little implausible, with the Russian minions particularly incompetent. However, Kiku has been set up with enough care given to establishing her skills, that you can see her prevailing in the circumstances. Negative points must be applied for a blatantly cliff-hanger ending which, as ever, had the opposite effect intended, actively dissuading me from purchasing further volumes. Tell a complete story, and if it’s good, I’ll buy into it. Greyson does around eighty percent of that: consequently, it’s a one-and-done for me, albeit not one I regret. 

Author: Christopher Greyson
Publisher: Greyson Media, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Kiku – Rogue Assassin series.

Deep Descent, by P.R. Adams

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Literary rating: ★★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆☆

Chanda Bajaj is the very epitome of a troubled protagonist. A former soldier, she left the service after she and her comrades took part in the mass murder of “synths” – synthetic humans, and has been plagued by guilt and nightmares ever since. She has become an independent bounty hunter (or “Lancer” – short for “freelancer”), and has just landed on the ferociously hostile mining planet of Reitman, far out in the frontier colonies. The corporation which runs Reitman has an issue, with some of its employees – who are, really, more like indentured serfs – turning them into drug fuelled and violent killers.

Chanda, along with a group of like-minded Lancers, are hired to take the worst of the worst into custody, so justice can be served. Except, inevitably, it’s not as easy as that. Word of their mission gets out, and they’re greeted by an increasingly ugly mob, who see them as company mercs. Almost simultaneously, the colony is the target of a terrorist attack, leaving Chanda and her colleagues stuck in the network of tunnels beneath the planet’s surface. Their original mission is changed, and becomes key to the entire survival of Reitman and its inhabitants. But there are people with a strong interest in them not succeeding, or living to tell the tale. Especially, after they discover a very nasty little incident in the corporation’s past, where an attempt to replace the human employees with synths did not go well. 

Once things kick off here, it’s an almost relentless cycle of Problem > Solution  > Slight progress. Some issues are physical ones, such as a surge of radiation resulting from the terrorist attack. Others are more psychological: whether or not to use lethal force against the mob who vastly outnumber the Lancers. There’s also a great deal of internal tension within the group, because not a lot of love is lost between certain members. Some have even figured out that the fewer the number of the group that survive, the bigger their own share of the payout will be. This is not exactly conducive to team-building and working together, standing in contrast to Chanda’s military background, and “no man left behind” philosophy. 

Naturally, there’s a revelation towards the end which upends a lot of what you thought you knew. Though I can’t say this came as too much of a surprise, and provoked more of a “Huh, makes sense,” rather than anything else. It does rely on some convenient literary amnesia from Chanda, though the book does a decent job of managing this, since it makes sense that she would take a drug specifically in order to repress the most troublesome memories. Interestingly, the other books in the series appear to be about different Lancers, with likely just a single volume falling in our area. However, I’d not be surprised to see a review of that one here, a little way down the road. 

Author: P.R. Adams
Publisher: Promethean Tales, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 6 in the Lancers series.

Saints, Spies, and Six-Gun Outlaws: Outlaw Women of Arizona, by Mike Gavin

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Literary rating: ★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆☆

This is a slim little book – more of a booklet, really, coming in at only 74 pages in length. But since it combines both our topic of discussion and local interest, because I live in Arizona, it was an easy decision to pick up a copy, after Dieter brought it to my attention. It does use quite a loose definition of “outlaw” – it is something only really discussed in the book’s epilogue, dividing them into three categories. Most obviously, are the ones Gavin calls “The Breakers of Law”, such as stagecoach robber Pearl Hart, whose exploits were dramatized in The Woman Who Robbed the Stagecoach. “Their crimes were against the statutes of the state.” 

As well as Hart, this covers Eva Dugan, the only woman executed in Arizona, who was hung in 1930 [Not-so fun fact: the executioner misjudged the drop, causing Dugan to be decapitated!], and the state’s most notorious killer, Winnie Ruth Judd, “The Trunk Murderess”. Are these latter two what I’d call “outlaws”? Or just criminals? There is a difference, albeit perhaps more so in perception than dictionary definition. Although there is also uncertainty as to whether both Bugan and Judd even committed the murders of which they were convicted. It is kinda disappointing that, in the true sense of the word, one woman who committed one (1) robbery, is about all Gavin could find in the history of the state, and back to when it was a territory.

Nor am I entirely convinced they “stood against power”, as Gavin claims. That feels more like an attempt to force post-feminist ideology onto them, though it might be more applicable to his third category, “The Breakers of Power… Women whose very existence challenged the authority of the state itself.” In this, he puts Apache warrior Lozen (whom I’d first heard of in the Warrior Women series hosted by Lucy Lawless); entrepreneur China Mary of Tombstone; and Teresa Urrea, the “Saint of Cabora.” who became a Joan of Arc-like figure for Mexican freedom fighters, on both sides of the border. But, again: Lozen is the only one whose “challenge of authority” seems like it was a conscious act. 

In between, we find “the Breakers of Convention… women whose primary crime was a refusal to be caged by the rigid expectations of their society.” These might be the most interesting figures, and it’s here where the limited space perhaps hurts most. While it’s laudable Gavin sticks to facts, without engaging in the speculation often seen around the likes of Calamity Jane, the average space allowed here is barely half a dozen pages. It’s enough to sketch only the basic details of a life, when some of them deserve much greater exploration. Pauline Cushman’s life as a Civil War spy, turned de facto sheriff, certainly merits more detail that her Wikipedia page provides. As a pointer towards some topics for further research, this is adequate. Just don’t expect much more. 

Author: Mike Gavin
Publisher: Self-published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Stand-alone volume.

The Doxies Penalty, by Madeleine E. Robins

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Literary rating: ★★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆

One of my favorite mystery series by a contemporary author is Madeleine E. Robins’ Sarah Tolerance series. I’ve read and reviewed all three of the earlier books (Point of Honour, Petty Treason and The Sleeping Partner), the most recent of those published in 2011 (seven years after the second one). The long gap between books had convinced me that the series was to be a trilogy, so I was delighted when this continuation was published in 2025! It didn’t disappoint.

This series should definitely be read in order; but for the benefit of readers who may be starting it here, the author provides a couple of paragraphs of essential backstory to introduce our heroine, and precedes the text itself with the short notation “October 1811. Another London.” That cryptic note is meant to clue us to the fact that this is a slightly alternate Regency England, in which Queen Charlotte, rather than Prince George, was initially named regent for her husband. But in the third book, her ill-health required the naming of a new regent, so Prince George got the job belatedly; and this book really has no noticeable alternate-world features.

So, for the benefit of readers who haven’t read, or don’t remember, the earlier books or my earlier reviews, Miss Tolerance (born Sarah Brereton) is a scion of a lower-nobility family, which disowned her as a teen when she ran off with her brother’s fencing master. (The pair were in love, and would have married if her father hadn’t forbade it.) After her man died young, Sarah took shelter with the one relative who’d have her, an also-disowned aunt who owns a high-end brothel (fortunately, there’s a small cottage out back); and rather than resort to prostitution like many young women in her situation, she’s created a profession for herself as an “Agent of [discreet] Inquiry.” (She’s smart, inquisitive, able to blend in a variety of social settings and pass as a man if she has to; and since she packs pistols and learned how to fence from her late life-partner, she can handle rough stuff if it’s thrown at her.)

Our tale here begins about six months after the preceding one. My general comments about the previous books in terms of style, writing quality, literary vision, etc. would apply here as well. There’s no bad language as such here (Sarah can cuss at times, when trying circumstances evoke it, but Robins doesn’t quote her), and no explicit sex; but there’s definitely reference to prostitution and other illicit sex –Sarah behaves with a sense of honor, but her aunt’s a madame, her best female friend is a sex worker, and her two clients in this book are retired prostitutes.

One only appears in the first chapter, where Sarah’s recovered some stolen jewelry for her. But the case brought to her by the second one will be more knotty. Elderly Annie Pouter (who used to work for Sarah’s aunt) has invested her life savings in a mysteriously-managed “Fund” that apparently caters to former “ladies of the evening” who have some money put by, and which promised a generous rate of return; but the payments ceased after the first few. But what starts as an investigation into possible financial malfeasance will soon turn much darker….

There will be some bloody violence in this book before the last page is turned; though it’s not made any more grisly than it needs to be, and we get a ghastly look at the ugliest faces of the Regency flesh trade (which may involve pre-teen kids!), opium addiction, the ravages of pre-antibiotic era STDs, and the general depths of moral perversion that fallen humans are capable of. This is definitely not simply a time-marking book; it advances the series narrative in significant ways (and it’s clear by the end that there will be at least one more book). We’re introduced here to greater London’s Roma community (referred to here as “Travelers”), with a couple of characters who I’m sure we’ll be meeting again. More importantly, there are a couple of MAJOR developments in Sarah’s personal life. And at the end, she’s presented with a serious moral decision.

Do I recommend that you read his book, if you like the genre and setting, and aren’t put off by some gritty elements? Absolutely; but I strongly recommend that you read the other three books first!

Author: Madeleine E. Robins
Publisher: Faery Cat Press; available from Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
Book 4 of 4 in the Sarah Tolerance series. A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Snakebite, by Heather Ramsay

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Literary rating: ★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆

I believe I have previously written disparagingly about “cinematic amnesia”, where a plot revolves around the lead character’s loss of memory. Inevitably, it comes back at exactly the points required for the plot, and to maximize drama. Unless the maker is very skilled, it always seems highly contrived, and I tend to find it distracting. This may be the first time I’ve read a case of such blatant literary amnesia, and much the same problems result.  As soon as “the A word” cropped up – page 37 – I was bracing myself for what was to come. The book did not disappoint in this area. 

The heroine is “Phoenix” – not her real name, since she can’t remember her real one. She was picked up out of a burnt-out grocery store, and taken to become a member of an elite military unit run by the United Nations (there’s another clue, since the UN cannot actually organize the proverbial piss-up in a brewery). They roam the world, with their mission being to “track, contain or terminate threats to global safety”, under General Cobra. No, really: that’s what he’s called. He’s a former Colombian government operative, who left the country after his hardcore tactics made him too many enemies. But he’s now going back, with Phoenix as his undercover wife, to take out weapons dealer Li Julong and his associate, Dr. Max Devereaux.

You will no doubt be shocked – SHOCKED! – to hear that the pair have a previous connection to Phoenix and, indeed, might perhaps have something to do with how she ended up in the grocery store. Before we get there though, we have to grind our way through so much Unresolved Sexual Tension between Phoenix and Cobra. Initially, she hates him, but as soon as they start having to play house, her thoughts immediately become hot ‘n’ sweaty. A sample: “I didn’t want to admit it, but I had it bad for him… Only a few days ago I hated the sight of him; now I wanted to rub up against him like a cat in heat. I had to do something about it.” Yeah. It’s like that. 

Then the switch in her head gets flicked, all of her memories come back, and Cobra is all but forgotten. I’m not sure this is how amnesia works, though to be fair, this isn’t your usual “bang on the head” flavour of that. After a brisk opening, this is more or less downhill all the way, and there’s not even particularly much in the way of action. Between first her UST, and then discovering the truth about her pre-amnesia life, there isn’t much room for anything else, and consequently, this becomes an increasing drag. About the only bit to stick in my mind is an extended near-death experience, which is well-written, yet doesn’t add much. Preferable to more UST or amnesia, however. 

Author: Heather Ramsay
Publisher: Titan Inkorp, though it appears weirdly unavailable on Amazon at this point/
Book 1 of 3 in the Alpha Squad series.

The Warslayer, by Rosemary Edghill

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Literary rating: ★★★★½
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆

This review requires a sad preface: “Rosemary Edghill” (there’s some uncertainty about her actual name) died of sepsis on April 7 of this year, at the age of only 69. But on a positive note, with 91 distinct works listed on Goodreads, she left behind a considerable body of speculative fiction; and judging by what I’ve read of it so far, it’s a legacy in which she could take genuine pride.

Published in 2002, this stand-alone novel draws significant inspiration from the popular TV series Xena: Warrior Princess, which ran from 1995-2001. (I was a fan myself back in the day –or as much of a fan as my work schedule allowed for TV viewing– and I’d surmise that Edghill was as well.) Our protagonist here, Glory McArdle, plays Vixen the Slayer, star of a wildly popular (fictional) TV show now wrapping up its first season, which has a lot in common with Xena, including a fervent international cult fan base, and a six-foot-tall heroine hailing from Down Under. (Lucy Lawless, who played Xena, was from New Zealand.) There are some differences; for instance, The Incredible True Adventures of Vixen the Slayer (“TITAoVtS,” for short) is set in Elizabethan England, and incorporates some qualities of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and unlike Lawless, Glory –who got her role after going to an audition as an extra in the shooting of a pilot for a different series– was a former Phys Ed teacher, and before that a member of the Aussie Olympic gymnastics team. But the Xena parallels are significant; and just as real-life author Greg Cox wrote the real book Battle On! An Unauthorized, Irreverant Look at Xena: Warrior Princess, here he’s said to have also written the (imaginary) book Vixen the Slayer: The Unofficial Journeys.

In our first chapter, Glory (who’s in Hollywood taping a short MTV promotional for her series) gets an unexpected knock on her trailer door, while she’s waiting in costume for another take. Her visitors are three rather short people in fantasy-world costume. But they’re not, as she initially thinks, actors, or fanatical fans dressed up and acting out a fantasy. They really are mages from another dimension. You see, in their world, 1,000 years ago the great mage Cinnas the Warslayer chained an evil entity called the Warmother; but now she’s been loosed, and is wreaking havoc. To save their people, they’ve scoured all the other worlds they can reach for a “hero” (like the writers of the Xena series teaser, they don’t grasp the grammatical distinction of hero/heroine, but I digress), and been turned down by all the prospects. Having read Cox’s book, their last hope is Vixen the Slayer. Sensing that these poor deluded people genuinely believe what they’re saying, Glory’s trying to explain that the book is fiction; but when a sudden burst of uncontrolled magic sends all four of them back into her visitors’ world, that attempt might be a bit moot….

The cover blurb/Goodreads description creates the impression that this is a light exercise in humorous fantasy; and it actually does have a lot of humor (I read it to my wife, and she laughed out loud in several places). Both TITAoVtS and Xena are shows that offer mostly action-oriented entertainment without a lot of serious content, which might also lead readers to expect the same here. However, The Warslayer has its unexpectedly deep and serious side. Glory can deliver a fair amount of wry humor; but we’ll also see her bleed, vomit, and cry. While there’s some intense physical combat going on here at times, the battles aren’t all going to be physical, and the author has some really important things to say. (I’m not going to try to summarize them, because the story is the message, and you need to experience it the way she wrote it.) Her plotting here is not at all predictable. (But it’s deeply satisfying!)

There’s no sexual content here, and no obscenity (and no use of the f-word; Glory started to say it on one occasion, but stopped herself). There is, though, a certain amount of vulgar and profane language, used by Earth natives (it’s not a feature of native culture in the fantasy world). While she’s a likable young woman with a kind heart and good instincts, Glory tends to have an earthy and irreverent speaking style; she was raised on her dad’s Outback sheep station, a milieu where speech isn’t very refined (and some of the Aussie slang here that I’m not familiar with might be expressions I’d rather not have translated!). The worldview here is not Christian per se, but like Glory herself, though she’s basically secular-minded and God-shy, it’s not anti-Christian or anti-theistic either. Trigger warnings are in order for brief descriptions of the ravaged corpses of a pony and a dog (the Warmother and her playmates aren’t nice entities!); but the biggest problem here is the improbability that all of the non-Earth natives converse in fluent English. (I deducted a half-star for this in my rating, but rounded up.)

As an added feature, the opening few pages of Greg Cox’s imaginary book on Vixen are “quoted” as a kind of prologue here, and as an appendix, we’re given his supposed “Episode Guide” to the 17 episodes of TITAoVtS. (I’d guess that none of this is written by him, but that he gave his permission for the use of his name.) The deadpan humor of this material is a hoot; and as a suggestion to any TV producers who may read this, if anybody actually ever tried to make a real-life incarnation of this series, I’d be interested in checking it out. :-)

Author: Rosemary Edghill
Publisher: Baen, available through Amazon, only as a physical book
A stand-alone novel.

The Red Peri, by Stanley G. Weinbaum

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Literary rating: ★★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆☆

This 1935 novella is only the second work I’ve read by pulp-era American SF author Stanley G. Weinbaum (the other is his first and best-known short story, A Martian Odyssey, which is included in The Science Fiction Hall of Fame, Volume One, 1929-1964). But despite dying at the age of 33, in his meteoric writing career (which spanned only about 18 months), he produced dozens of short stories and two posthumously published novels. (A number of the stories were published posthumously as well.) He earned a place in Sam Moskowitz’s Explorers of the Infinite: Shapers of Science Fiction (1974), and his stature in the genre’s history remains high more than 50 years later.

Though born in Louisville, Kentucky, as a child Weinbaum moved with his parents and sister (the family was ethnically Jewish, but to my knowledge there’s no indication that he was ever religiously observant) to Milwaukee, and lived there for the rest of his short life, except for study at the Univ. of Wisconsin at Madison from 1920-23, where he first majored in chemical engineering and then switched to English literature. (He left without graduating, after being caught taking an exam for a friend on a dare.) After his marriage in 1926, he worked at a variety of odd jobs, but began writing seriously in the late 1920s and submitting his work to magazines. A Martian Odyssey, published in July 1934, was his first sale, and brought him immediate acclaim in the small SF fandom of that day.

American SF between the World Wars was a sort of literary ghetto, disdained by critics, and found mainly in a handful of small-circulation niche magazines, dominated by editors committed to the genre’s “hard” tradition, in which the speculative element is strictly based on extrapolation from known science and scientific accuracy is a paramount concern. (Literary matters like character development, well-crafted prose, and original plotting, in that era, was sometimes of less concern.) Weinbaum, like many of the genre’s writers in his generation, had the scientific background and interest to write hard SF, but his English literature education/interest also gave him stylistic skills superior to those of a lot of his contemporaries. Both qualities are evidenced in this short work.

The Red Peri is set partly in space but mainly on Pluto (which had been discovered relatively recently, in 1930), in a future era in which humans use rocketry to travel to the planets of the solar system, but mostly to Venus and Mars; a small town on the Jovian moon Titan is as far out as their settlement goes, and the outer planets are rarely visited at all. (No date is actually given in the text, though the cover copy gives 2080; I’m not sure where that’s derived from.) Trade between these three middle planets is lucrative, but bedeviled by space pirates; and none of the latter are more feared than those of the pirate ship Red Peri. (Peri is Persian for imp or elf.)

25-year-old Frank Keene, our American viewpoint character and co-protagonist, a radiologist and physicist, has a brief run-in with a red-haired pirate (you can’t see much through a space-suit visor, but he did see that) when the freighter he’s traveling on is robbed by the Peri. A year later, he and an elderly fellow scientist, researching cosmic radiation in deep space, have to make an emergency landing on Pluto. That very cold world proves to hold a couple of secrets, one of which being that it’s the lair of the Peri –and it’s no real spoiler to reveal that “The Red Peri” is also the moniker of the pirate captain, who happens to be a very attractive young lady.

A Dr. Mike Goldsmith provides a reasonably spoiler-free page-and-1/2 Introduction and about five and a half pages of footnotes to this Grammaticus Books re-print. As this added matter reveals, despite Weinbaum’s determination to write “hard” SF, this book has its share of scientific inaccuracies (though it also exhibits some solid science as well in places). Some of these are simply the result of the limited scientific knowledge available in 1935: for instance, not much was known then about Pluto (and Weinbaum’s depiction of it was plausible at the time), and nobody back then realized that the range of radio signals is practically infinite. But (though Goldsmith doesn’t pick up on it), the author makes a MAJOR scientific error which his entire plot depends on, and which was clear to me even with my weak background in science. There’s also an “insta-love” factor going on here that’s not really credible (at least, to me). But on the plus side, our main characters are vital, nuanced and well-drawn, and Weinbaum creates a thought-provoking, morally complex situation which engages both the reason and the emotions of these characters, and of the readers.

While the ending of the tale wraps up the immediate plot here effectively, readers will probably want a continuation to the narrative; and Weinbaum in fact intended to write more about these characters. Sadly, that wasn’t to be. Less than a month after the story was published, he was dead of lung/throat cancer, brought on by his heavy smoking (and initially misdiagnosed as tonsilitis, resulting in a misguided tonsillectomy that just added uselessly to his pain). So readers will have to use their own imaginations to project future developments!

Author: Stanley G. Weinbaum
Publisher: Grammaticus Books; available from Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Ferromancer, by Becca Andre

  By

Literary rating: ★★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆½

Bridget ‘Briar’ Rose is a rarity: a woman who runs a canal boat, transporting cargo along the waterways which form the Ohio & Erie canal network. However, her livelihood is under threat. The increasing growth of the railway as an alternative method of transportation is increasingly a rival for the jobs she takes, and her cousin, Andrew, is looking to see her barge out from under Briar, so he can invest in the railways instead. However, she suspects he is working with an outlaw: a ferromancer, one of the mages who revolutionized industry in Europe, but who had supposedly been wiped out two decades ago due to the threat they posed. 

If she can prove that, it will discredit Andrew, and allow Briar to keep plying her trade. She steals the plans from Andrew’s house, and kidnaps his apparent business partner, Grayson, after he finds her and demands the return of the plans. Doing so creates a whole new set of issues, bringing Briar and her crew into contact with some very dangerous people. In particular, Mr. Solon, a ferromancer whose can use the darker magical arts to turn people into soulless automatons under his control. I think the world building here is likely the strongest suit. Though it’s lightly drawn – I’m really curious about what must have been a war between the mages and The Scourge, the organization set up to destroy them. 

The sense of period is also nicely done. For some reason, I kept forgetting it was taking place in America, maybe because I associate canals more with England. But it’s another aspect of the world which I enjoyed, a slightly alternate history where a brief dalliance with magic was ruthlessly crushed. On the other hand, I was rather confused by the motives of a number of characters. Both Grayson’s and Solon’s motivations are murky at the best of times. The former’s fondness for dribbling out both significant and relevant information, which might have helped, annoyed me – considerably more than it did Briar, who just seems to (metaphorically) roll her eyes briefly and keep on hanging out with him. 

Given the era, it’s not surprising that most of the physical action is left to the men-folk. However, Briar does get involved in a brawl with another “canal chick”, for want of a better time. She’s also not averse to a great leveller in the battle between the sexes, which is a kick to the groin! The further we go on, the clearer it becomes that ferromancers are very different to normal people – to a degree where they may not even technically be human. Andre does leave a lot of things open at the conclusion of this, although at least has the courtesy to avoid a direct cliffhanger. Was there enough to get me to buy into further volumes? Likely not immediately, though it’s not entirely off the table. 

Author: Becca Andre
Publisher: Independently published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 5 in the Iron Souls series.