Nite Fire: Flash Point by C.L. Schneider

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

Dallas Nite is a dragon. Well, some of the time. For dragons are actually shape-shifters, capable of changing form, and that’s how she is able to pass for a human here. On her home planet, she had been an assassin for Queen Naalish, until she balked at carrying out one hit. Condemned to death, she fled through one of the interplanetary portals, ending up on Earth. Effectively immortal, Dallas has been in exile here for ninety-seven years since, making sure no other unauthorized creatures come through the portals – part of an uneasy truce between her and the aristocracy. Part of her job also involves ensuring any trace of dragon activity is covered up, these being explained instead as “spontaneous human combustion.” But after a whole family is slaughtered in fiery fashion in their home, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to keep a lid on things, and her past comes back with a vengeance too.

As urban fantasy goes, this is solid, rather than spectacular. There’s some nice world-building, with the idea of the portals well-explained, and offering plenty of scope for a variety of adventures (the epilogue does a particularly good job of pointing the way forward). I also appreciated how Dallas is employed as an investigator of “suspicious fires” by the local police department in Sentinel City which, given the obvious dragonish nature of her talents, is a good fit. Additionally, she has the ability to sense and re-experience people’s traumas. While the talent comes with baggage of its own, this is particularly useful for the case in question. It does feel like you’re joining the story in progress, almost a century having passed since Dallas’s arrival on Earth. I would be very interested in hearing, for example, what she got up to during World War II. A were-dragon would seem to offer certain advantages as a secret agent.

While the more relevant gaps of her past are filled in eventually, it is a bit of a cheat, with knowledge being withheld from the audience, that Dallas and the other characters clearly possess. We probably needed additional background on the dragon hierarchy too. There were some characters whose roles and significance remained a little too obscure. For example, Reech is one who only shows up at the half-way point, and I am still not sure exactly how he fits into things. What ends up as the central conflict, between Dallas and former apprentice Brynne, delivers some impressive battles (I said effectively immortal above, for a reason…), and focusing more directly on that could have paid dividends. At almost four hundred pages in length, there were times where getting through this did feel a bit of slog. However, a turn of the page would then bring me into something cool, and it provided enough of those moments to cross over the finish line without too much trouble. 

Author: C.L. Schneider
Publisher: CreateSpace Indepenedent Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 5 in the Nite Fire series.

Gehenna: Naked Aggression, by Patrick Kindlon and Marco Ferrari

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

“What I need is stories where men get kicked in the chest. Stories where guns only run out of ammo for dramatic effect. I need pulp. I need exploitation. I need fun.”  I used to read a lot of comics, before moving to America. As in, most weekends involved a trip to Forbidden Planet, Gosh!, or Mega City Comics, coming home with a carrier bag of new issues. Then there were the trips to Paris… But I just kinda stopped – no particular reason – when I emigrated. There is still a large cardboard box, unopened from the move 25 years ago, in our boxroom. Some are probably worth a bit, e.g. the first issue of Hellblazer. But reading the first issue of Gehenna makes me want to restart. Well, if space, time, money and aging eyesight weren’t issues, anyway.

“This book is equally for the diehard comic reader and someone who hasn’t read sequential art since Garfield,” according to co-creator Kindlon. I’m certainly closer to the latter category, but certainly found it accessible, once I got into the comic-book rhythm again. It’s different from word-based literature, and even from cinema, where the pace is dictated entirely by the director. In a comic-book, you can linger over a panel to admire the artwork for as long as you want, or whizz through them so you’re basically picking up subliminal imagery. The text becomes a complement to the imagery, filling in the gaps. And the imagery is great. I now have a new backdrop on my PC desktop. Page 18 of the PDF, should you be interested. 

“Everything went to hell. And now that’s where I live.” But this also means exposition and action can co-exist: the latter doesn’t need to pause. Consequently, over the 24 pages here, there’s barely a pause for breath. You reach the end, to be honest, not necessarily sure what’s going on, but this is just part one of four. I presume things will become clear – or, at least, clearER – in due course. We have a dark-haired woman, kidnapping the son of a gangster because of reasons apparently connected to her husband’s death – leading to the quote above. There’s another woman, blonde, following in her wake – with bad intent if her line, “I’ll call you when the woman is dead”, is anything to go by. I will bet the house that they will end up facing off against each other, before very long. I certainly hope so. 

“It’s pulling from Beyond Hypothermia and Naked Weapon, and all of Hong Kong,” says Kindlon. So far, Naked Aggression has been more about the aggression than the naked – though cleavage certainly abounds, and an alternate cover (below) does deliver. It is difficult to judge the series overall, in the same way as giving your verdict of a film based on its opening twenty minutes. We’ve all seen movies which hit the ground running, only to run out of steam. But there’s no reason this shouldn’t be able to sustain the blistering pace: it’s not like a comic-book is going to run out of budget. If we weren’t looking to move house, this might well be the one to entice me back into the comic-shop. Failing that, I’ll just have to wait for the movie version, hopefully starring Eva Green and Charlize Theron. 

Author: Patrick Kindlon (text) and Marco Ferrari (art)
Publisher: Image Comics, available through their site, from July 2, or for Kindle through Amazon.
Book 1 of 4 in the series, also available in four alternate covers as below.

Desolation, by David Lucin

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

When the apocalypse comes, if popular fiction is any guide, it’s going to be undead and craving brains. But not far behind in terms of literary popularity, appears to be an EMP. This is a high altitude nuclear detonation, which would unleash an electromagnetic pulse – hence the name – capable of frying anything with a circuit board, continent-wide. It is generally not good for civilization. I think this is the first such book I’ve covered, and I was particularly intrigued, because it’s set here in Arizona. Which is a little weird, because the author appears to be based out of Vancouver, British Columbia. I presume some connection to the state.

It mostly takes place in the northern mountain town of Flagstaff, where Jenn Jansen is attending college when the power goes out, and the world grinds to a halt. Not that it’s exactly a great world to begin with, already teetering on the edge of famine and war, with multiple conflicts around the globe (in particular between the US/NATO and China), while most of the population live in poverty, even in the United States. Jenn’s parents are down in Phoenix, which… the author doesn’t seem to like much, calling it a “desert hellscape” among other things. [Looks out window] OK, he’s not wrong… But it doesn’t get any better after the city gets hit by multiple air-burst nukes. Help is not coming to Flagstaff any time soon.

Jenn has to figure out what to do, though at least initially, basic survival is not too rough. However, she gradually realizes not everyone is willing to pull together, and hard times make for difficult moral decisions. She’s rather better at these than her boyfriend, Sam, who comes from a more privileged background. His family are in Payson – between Flagstaff and Phoenix – and the pair head down there to bring them up to Flagstaff. That pushes Jenn further along her evolution. According to the author, “By Book 4, she’s not the impulsive, bossy, and sometimes annoying girl from Book 1; she is a soldier and a cool-headed leader,” and I can see the early signs of this appearing already, though I never found her especially annoying. 

Action-wise, it is fairly restrained, but there is a sense of escalation, with the book giving us good insight into Jenn’s thoughts. Of note, her reaction to having to use increasing degrees of violence is explored in more detail than I would have expected. It’s not easy or facile, but by the end, the blood on her hands is mounting. I sense that’s only going to increase, as it appears the next part has her becoming part of a reconnaissance expedition to Phoenix. That’s a story I am interested in reading, and not just for reasons of personal familiarity, also to see how Jenn develops. But perhaps my neighbourhood might make an appearance. Even if it’s going to be a bit radioactive.

Author: David Lucin
Publisher: Highway 3 Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 6 in the Desolation series.

Axira, Episode One, by Odette C. Bell

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

The first volume is free on Amazon at time of writing, but all four are available for 99 cents, so you certainly can’t complain about value. It’s an interesting concept, too. Axira is a “spacer”, a member of an alien race feared to such an extent that they are almost legends. For centuries, she has been mentally chained up by a member of the Kore sects known only as “Master”, and compelled to do his bidding. Which usually involves copious amounts of violence, directed toward his enemies. Finally, Axira is able to break free and regain her independence, and vows to take revenge on Master.

The only force she can think of who can defeat him is the Galactic Coalition – the same force she was pitted against for 450 years. Adopting a completely new identity, Em, and a different species, she switches sides and joins the Coalition as a recruit in their academy. Her skills have the capacity to make her easily a top student there. But after spending so long as nothing more than a meat puppet, her social skills leave a lot to be desired. She’s soon an object of much curiosity, due to her stamina and tolerance for alcoholic beverages. But she is befriended by Elle Singh, another recruit, after helping her get through the first day.

Elle’s mother is the Admiral in overall charge of the whole program. Her brother, Jason, is also present at the Academy, but he’s a graduate on an undercover mission to find and neutralize a spy operating in the area. This leads to the book’s major action set-piece, when Axira and Jason take on a pair of robotic Kore assassins. But Axira’s identity could be exposed, as part of the course involves probing by a telepathic specialist, Kendra. Axira’s reluctance, for obvious reasons, to allow this is a bit of a red-flag. This is a bit of an odd scenario, having someone so old – both in literal and psychological years – showing up to study alongside teenagers. It’s like if Back to School was SF rather than comedy, or if Gandalf became a freshman at Hogwarts.

The narrative switches between the perspective of Axira and Jason, though the big question is: how did Axira escape from her master? It’s simply not addressed. I suspect that may be corrected down the line, but in this volume is a yawning gap, literally left as a “Five years later” heading. It does seem all her subterfuge might have been unnecessary, since it turns out the Coalition is willing to accept people with questionable pasts – though whether that extends to Axira remains to be seen. She’s basically an unindicted war criminal, though that doesn’t necessarily make her a bad person… At less than a buck to finish this story off, there’s a non-zero chance we’ll be revisiting the series at some point down the road.

Author: Odette C. Bell
Publisher: Self-publised, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 4 in the Axira: A Galactic Coalition Academy series.

Rogue Agent, by Skyler Ramirez

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

This is a solid, no-nonsense combination of spy and science-fiction. Though, to be honest, it is skewed towards the former genre, with the latter mostly window-dressing. It wouldn’t take much to change the setting from a solar system whose ownership is disputed by a couple of galactic empires, to a city whose ownership is disputed by a couple of countries. The planet is Hudson, claimed both by the Star Kingdom of Prometheus and the Koratan Confederacy. Heather Kilgore is among the best agents of the Promethean King’s Order, and is dispatched to Hudson after the suspicious death of a man who had betrayed the Kingdom, former commander Connor Monroe

Her job is to find out the truth behind the event, but things are complicated in a number of ways. She and Connor had been lovers previously – while part of a mission, it might have been more than that. Also, she’s partnered with her former mentor, Tabitha Lowry. There’s history there as well, the pair having parted on poor terms during a previous case. They’re going to have to put the past aside, in order to figure out who – if anyone – was behind Monroe’s passing. And it quickly becomes clear that certain parties, with the Koratans the lead suspects, have a strong interest in not letting the truth be discovered by Heather and Tabitha, and will do anything to prevent this.

This is 258 pages, but felt shorter, which is generally a good sign, with a healthy quota of action, both given and received. Heather is undeniably able to take care of herself, even against multiple opponents, but is certainly not bulletproof. Indeed, at one point she has sit things out for several days, after getting hurt. She just chills in a remote cabin with a local kid, learning to appreciate the joys of things like fishing; this could have felt like needless padding, but ends up providing the heroine with additional depth. [The cover pic seems an accurate depiction of her as described; Kilgore is not exactly an under-the-radar kind of operative!]

My main complain was pacing. It felt as if the first eighty percent of the book contained eighty percent of the plot. Then the last twenty percent? Well, that contained eighty percent of the plot as well. As well as going from investigation to resolution in what seemed like just a few pages, it’s there where we discover Heather and Tabitha’s history. To be honest, this didn’t add particularly much, and seemed at odds with the very hard-nosed attitude shown by Heather. Since it wasn’t a secret between them, I would have brought it out far earlier. Despite such missteps down the stretch, this was an entertaining read, with a memorable central character, and a story I could see unfolding cinematically in my mind’s eye. The next volume is on my list for future consideration.

Author: Skyler Ramirez
Publisher: Persephone Entertainment Inc., available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the A Star Nation in Peril series.

Unleashing the Tiger, by Jerry Furnell

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

I don’t subscribe to the belief that authors need to be the same sex, race, religion or whatever as their characters. A good author can put you inside the head of their heroine, even if they’re a different species, an extra-terrestrial, or whatever. But there needs to be an authenticity of voice for it to work. This is where, for example, Quentin Tarantino fails for me: his characters almost always end up sounding like Quentin Tarantino. And I wrote that before noticing the blurb on Amazon actually says, “Jerry Furnell exudes a Quentin Tarantino vibe in his narrative.” That’s meant as an incentive; I’d have taken it as a warning.

For the problem here is similar, exacerbated by the adoption of a first-person narrative. The heroine is Camilla Lee, described as “an eighteen-year-old Kung Fu black belt”, of Chinese extraction, who lives in Australia. The author, however, is a British man in his sixties, and frankly, it shows. Camilla never comes off as anything except sounding like a fairly dubious fantasy of what a teenage girl is like. Not least because the instant Camilla turns eighteen, she immediately becomes a raging nympho. It’s borderline creepy. And indeed, one scene of sexual assault removes the word “borderline” from that sentence. I’m not sure if it’s intended to be repellent or arousing, and as a result ends up in a very odd place.

The story is okay, if familiar. Camilla’s parents are murdered in a home invasion, and she barely survives. She’s convinced this wasn’t a burglary gone wrong, and eventually discovers it’s connected to her father having betrayed his Triad employers back when he lived in Hong Kong. She heads back there – pausing only to give the passenger sitting next to her a hand-job, I kid you not – to confront Mr. Wu, the leader of the Seven Dragons gang and make him pay for his crimes. Oh, and she’s also getting bullied at school. She makes them pay too, in no uncertain fashion. Although only after Camilla has engaged in self-mutilation, and been prevented from committing suicide by the unexpected arrival of a friendly dog in the park.

To be fair, in the “From the author” section on Amazon, Furnell cheerfully admits, “The mix of sex and violence will appeal to some readers and appall others. Reviews suggest you will either love it or hate it.” He’s not wrong, and no prizes for guessing on what side of the fence I fall. Which is weird, because regular site visitors will know, I’m hardly averse to gratuitous sex and senseless violence. Here, the latter is fine, with some interesting fights as Camilla works her way through the Seven Dragons to meet her nemesis. But even here, she has to dress up as a prostitute to get into the building. And did I mention the lesbian sex? Though Furnell does lag Tarantino in one department. At least there’s no foot fetishism. 

Author: Jerry Furnell
Publisher: Self-published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 3 in the Naked Assassin Series.

Ark of Ascension, by Michael R. Schultheiss

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

I don’t necessarily expect to understand a literary universe from the first page. These things take time: I get that. But I do expect that, as I go through the chapters, things will become clear. If I reach the end, and am still vague on a number of significant plot points, then something has gone wrong. Sadly, it’s the case here, and that largely hampered the effectiveness of the narrative. In this case, it had a cascading effect. Because I didn’t understand one situation, that rendered a character’s purpose uncertain, and this then meant the heroine’s motivation wasn’t clear.

Her name is Evalla Taryu, and she’s a bounty-hunter, tracking down those who are looking to escape justice, after having previously served in the Commonality Legion. During this military service, her strength, speed, reactions, etc. were artificially enhanced, abilities which come in handy for her new profession. Then, out of the blue, her estranged and fairly disreputable uncle, Kard, contacts her. Evalla’s sister, Ashta, has fallen in with a religious cult, the Disciples of Fire, under their leader Centom. Ashta needs to be rescued, because she is about to become an “ark-ascendant”. What is that exactly? I’m glad you asked. Unfortunately, I don’t know the answer. Some kind of religious transformation, apparently; but exactly what results and why it’s both so terrible and so valuable, is uncertain.

Putting that to one side, Evalla heads off with Kard to the planet in question, only to find Ashta has no interest in being rescued. However, it becomes clear (or, at least clear-ish) that there are a lot of bigger forces at play, and whatever it is that Ashta is going to become, is of interest on a trans-planetary political scale. Kard, who until recently was in prison for treason, has his own agenda too, leaving Evalla to try and negotiate her way through a maze of treachery, family loyalty and religious zealotry. But since we don’t have any real information regarding what’s going to happen to Ashta, we don’t know what’s so bad about it, and consequently why Evalla is prepared to risk life and limb to save her sibling forcibly.

There are some good aspects here. There was previously an incredibly-advanced race, the Makers, who are no longer around: but some of their technology is, and their presence almost hangs over everything that happens. We get a decent amount of action, with Evalla very much able to take care of herself, and I liked that she cares about the taking of life, only doing so as a last resort, in situations of extreme necessity. But there are key pieces of the puzzle missing, in particular from the reader’s perspective. The story almost feels as if it has been built from the top down, rather than the bottom up, and it makes for a frustrating experience.

Author: Michael R. Schultheiss
Publisher: Lyamgallal Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 1 (so far) in the Huntress for Hire series.

Planet Urth, by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

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

This is written by a husband and wife duo, which is a nice idea. I wonder how Chris would react if I suggested writing a novel to her? Unfortunately, the results are a little disappointing. It feels like the execution is better than the idea – usually it’s the other way around. For example, this is a post-apocalyptic scenario, except the book never details in more than the vaguest terms, what happened. It’s disposed of in about one page: a war, involving both bio- and nuclear weapons. Some humans went underground; those who didn’t, became “grotesquely distorted” mutants and calling themselves Urthmen. We’re now 200 years later, and they are still seeking to wipe out the dwindling number of “real” humans who abandoned their bunkers for some reasons. Those include Avery, in her late teens, and her sister, eight-year-old June, orphaned by the death of both parents: Mom killed by Urthmen, Dad… just kinda died, I guess.

They’re barely clinging on to life, in the face of all the perils around them. As well as the Urthmen, there are other nasties, such as “Lurkers” – also mutated, nocturnal wolf-like creatures – giant spiders, etc. However, hope arises when Avery discovers another family when hunger forces her to roam further than usual on a hunting expedition. This consists of the parents and three children, one of who is about Avery’s age, Will. And you can probably predict, Avery immediately falls for Will, and spends the rest of the book utterly gushing about him – “His eyes are a brilliant blue-green, pale, like tropical water I once saw in a picture, and his hair is a dark as a raven’s feathers.” Never mind the imminent, omnipresent threat of brutal death, or the daily struggle for survival. There’s a cute boy in the area, and of course he must be made frequent, repetitive gooey eyes at!

The other problem is June, who is the most middle-aged eight-year-old I’ve ever seen. While it is mentioned how “mature” she is for her age, June’s dialogue is thoroughly unconvincing, spouting lines like, “Be safe, Avery, You are my sister and my best friend,” or “Something is different about you, Avery. Something happened that you’re not telling me about.” While my knowledge of children is (mercifully!) limited, my grandkids certainly do not speak in that way. But when it’s just the heroine, this has its moments. There’s a sequence where she falls into a giant spider’s web, and it’s one of the more horrific and disturbing things I’ve read this year.  The action in general is well-handled, though again, the ease with which Urthmen get dispatched – two adults and two teenagers wipe out a raiding party of “more than a dozen” – dilutes their threat considerably. While I reached the end okay, I’m just not interested in more romantic tension, unresolved or not, or pre-teens who sound like English lit majors.

Author: Jennifer and Christopher Martucci
Publisher: Self-published, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 6 in the Planet Earth series.

The Eye of Ebon, by P. Pherson Green

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

Independent Goodreads author (and one of my Goodreads friends) P. Pherson Green has been writing since the late 90s, and has previously had short stories published in various venues. However, this novel, the opener for his projected White Sword Saga series, is his long-fiction debut. He graciously gifted me with a hardcover review copy; no guarantee of a favorable review was requested, or given. My wife and I read the book together, during the intermittent and usually short times we were both traveling together in the car; so the nearly two months it took to read is misleading. It would have been a much quicker read if I’d read it by myself, devoting all of my individual reading time to it.

This is a work of traditional epic fantasy, set (as most tales in this genre are) in a medieval-like setting resembling the Europe of that day, except in an invented fantasy world. (A helpful map is provided, though it doesn’t show every single locality a reader might like to locate.) It would be fair to say that most if not all English-language epic fantasy written from the last half of the 20th century on owes something to the inescapable influence of Tolkien’s monumental LOTR saga, and this novel is no exception. We have here, ultimately, a quest narrative involving an artifact of great significance (and great seductive power, of an unwholesome sort). The characters’ world is one with a very long history, involving elder races and cataclysmic wars which have consequences for the present. Two non-human races, the Allarie and the Groll, are respectively much like Tolkien’s elves and orcs.

More importantly, we’re very definitely dealing here with a conflict between good and evil, with domination of a world at stake; and the conflict is not simply one of “Us” (the “good” characters) vs. “Them” (the “bad” characters), but rather within “Us” as well, since all humans can be tempted by evil. And like Tolkien (who once famously characterized the LOTR corpus as a “Catholic work”) Green is a Christian author, who writes from a Christian conception of the universe. Neither writer makes any explicit reference to Christianity, and indeed both are dealing with a world in which Christ has not been born; Middle Earth is supposedly our world long before Christianity existed, and Green’s Silver World (he introduces that name only in a short note after the novel proper) is an entirely different world with a different salvation history. But like Tolkien’s Morgoth (“the Great Enemy, of whom Sauron of Mordor was but a servant”) the entity variously known here as the Shadow, the Wyrm, the Foul Pretender or the Dark Beguiler is recognizable as Satan; and the apparently pagan polytheism of the Silver World isn’t quite as polytheistic as it initially seems.

For all that, Green is his own person with his own literary vision and style; The Eye of Ebon is not a direct LOTR knock-off, in the way that Terry Brooks’ The Sword of Shanarra is. A major difference, of course, is the distaff perspective. While Tolkien’s Eowyn is an action-capable female, she’s not the heroine of the saga; his major characters, and most of the characters who display any real agency, or play a direct role in defeating evil, are male. Here, the two viewpoint characters, protagonist Samiare (whom you see depicted on the book’s cover) and essentially co-protagonist Rugette are both female, and formidable fighting females who carry the brunt of the book’s down-and-dirty struggle against evil, and who make the key, crucial gut wrenching and difficult moral decisions at the climactic points. (I was already inclined to rate the book at five stars, but those were the moments that clinched it, and for me moved this tale into the ranks of great, rather than merely good, literature!)

To be sure, unlike Rugette, whose combat skills, especially archery, result from rigorous training since she was in her early teens (I’d guess her to be about 30 here) and have been honed in years spent as a high-ranking warrior and scout fighting the Groll, Samiare, an untrained girl of 15, owes her prowess to a mysterious sword. At the very beginning of the main narrative, she lies dying in the snows of her homeland from cold and blood loss after being gang-raped by a band of Groll and renegade humans, who carved an obscenity on her belly, beat her and tortured her with branding irons, after killing her father and making off with her sister. When she cried out for deliverance “to the one god she knew –the one who watched over,” that sword was gifted to her by a glowing man-like being; and it proves to be no ordinary sword. But she still has to hold it and wield it –and make decisions about how she uses it.

The above paragraph suggests another difference from the Tolkien corpus; this narrative is much grittier, and gorier. While the gang-rape itself isn’t really directly described, we can tell it occurred; and while Green doesn’t make the brutalizing and torture here any more drawn-out than it has to be to make us feel it, he does make us do that. This sets a tone for a very violent book; there’s a lot of mortal combat action with edged weapons, and the Groll are an extremely sadistic and treacherous bunch, even to each other. (Tolkien, in a letter, once characterized the orcs as “almost irremediable,” but allowed that no being created by God is wholly irremediable. We get the impression here that the Groll may be; but even here, Green depicts them as having a claim to merciful treatment when they’re disabled in combat, which I regard as a plus.) So there’s a high body count, with quite a lot of humans and humanoids dying, often in nastily unpleasant ways. There’s no “pornography of violence,” but we do see the spilled entrails, severed limbs, split skulls, etc. However, there’s no quoted bad language, and no explicit sexual content. (In fact, the only reference to sex at all, besides the implied rape above, occupies a tastefully phrased single part of one sentence, in 230 pages of text proper. This would definitely not be characterized as a “romantasy.”)

Green has a serviceable, dignified and assured, naturally flowing prose style that holds interest well. Settings, scenes and people are described vividly enough to be pictured in the reader’s mind (and some of the scenes conjured rival those depicted by Robert E. Howard or A. Merritt for atmosphere and spectacle!), but not over-described. World-building is delivered along the way of the storyline, without info-dumps (there are a couple of roughly page-long appendices, “About the Silver World” and “The Four Lands,” which should be read). There aren’t many serious typos, the worst one being that “reigns” tends to be substituted when “reins” is meant (but that’s a quibble). We come to realize before long that the Prologue describes events taking place millennia before the main story, and occasional interspersed flashbacks set in the same time-frame aren’t distinguished by typeface or a heading; but the reader quickly comes to identify and understand these, and they do convey important information.

There’s no cliff-hanger here; the challenge of the main plot is brought to its conclusion. But it’s clear that the overall epochal struggle of the Four Lands is only beginning, and I’m invested in continuing the series!

Author: P. Pherson Green.
Publisher: Gold Dragon Publishing, available through Amazon, both for Kindle and as a printed book.
A version of this review previously appeared on Goodreads.

Women Rescuers of WWII, by Elise Baker

Literary rating: ★★
Kick-butt quotient: ☆

With the somewhat accurate and rather clunky sub-title of “True stories of the unsung women heroes who rescued refugees and Allied servicemen in WWII”, this is a book whose idea I liked rather more than the execution. The core is six chapters, each devoted to a woman or pair of women, who operated before and around World War II, mostly helping refugees to escape the Nazi regime as it swept across Europe. Every chapter has the same structure. Each begins with ‘The Threshold’, describing how they came to take on that role; then ‘The Move’, covering their heroic activities; and finally, ‘The Close’, detailing what happened to them afterward.

These stories are all worth telling, though perhaps not to the same degree. A couple appear more like glorified bureaucrats, and while their roles in facilitating emigration of refugees were important, you don’t get much sense they were in genuine danger. Others, however, such as Irena Sendler, was clearly risking her own life in smuggling Jewish children out of the Warsaw ghetto, being captured and brutally interrogated by the Gestapo. The same goes for Andrée de Jongh, who ran the Comet Line which allowed Allied soldiers trapped behind enemy lines in occupied Europe, to make their way back to friendly territory. She ended up in Ravensbruck concentration camp: that’s “real” heroism, putting yourself at personal risk, and definitely deserves to be better known.

However, the desire to cram in too much here works against the book. Each chapter typically covers only 20-25 pages, and as a result, you get not much more depth about each woman, than you would find in a well-written Wikipedia article. These are more like an appetizer, and you’ll probably be left hungry to know more about the likes of de Jongh. Baker has an odd tendency to shift from factual descriptions to what reads like dramatic restagings of scenes, an awkward shift that she does not manage to pull off. Rather than letting the stories speak for themselves, she tends to belabour her point about sexism being responsible for suppressing these stories.

It’s somewhat questionable, since many male heroes of WW2 are arguably more unsung: de Jongh, for example, was awarded decorations by multiple countries, including the George Medal, Britain’s highest civilian honour. That’s not “unsung.” I’d rather Baker had used the pages she spends on making such points, to tell the reader more about the women’s stories.  I will admit, I did learn things here, and if you’re looking for a primer – a Cliff Notes on wartime heroism – this and the other books in the series are probably worth a look. But it feels like Baker is only skimming the surface, and the subjects would have been better served by a more in-depth recounting, rather than trying to cover so many different candidates. Sometimes, less is definitely more, and this would be a good example. 

Author: Elise Baker
Publisher: Intrepidas Publishing, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book Part of the Brave Women Who Changed the Course of WWII series.