Tag: s

Sisters in Law

  By

★★½
“Law and disorder”

This is exactly the kind of “mismatched cop” film in which you’d expect to see Melissa McCarthy, if it was ever remade by Hollywood. Though since two decades later, McCarthy would star in The Heat, they probably don’t need to bother. Here, the trope of tough, world-weary cop Jacky, is played by Ng – inexplicably, the subtitles repeatedly call her Joan, which confused the heck out of me for a bit. She gets an unwelcome new partner in the shape of idealistic and by-the-book Mary (Chan). Of course, there’s the inevitable friction before the pair come to respect each other.

After being accidentally involved in a jewellery heist, they get to investigate the case. The robbery was actually staged by the gems’ owner, Hanks Lee (Kong) for insurance purposes, which is why the robbers start turning up dead. Jacky and Mary have to locate the last survivor, with the unwilling help of his girlfriend (Hung), before the loose end he represents can be tidied up. Complicating matters is the growing relationship between Jacky and Hanks, to the concern of her partner. While in her own sub-plot, Mary has issues with her widowed mother’s new boyfriend, because he’s a supposedly reformed gangster.

It’s so incredibly generic, it’s hard to think of a time when this would have seemed the slightest bit original – even back in 1992, when this was made. There are no surprises at all to be found in the plot or characters, save perhaps the caricatured male colleagues who get their come-uppance at the end… by being assigned to the Gay Crimes department. Laughter all round! Every aspect of that angle is incredibly nineties, and so impossible to imagine in a modern film, it becomes kinda refreshingly incorrect. On the other hand, safe to say it’s probably not the element which the makers most wanted to stick in the viewer’s memory. The two leads do have a nice chemistry though, and that keeps things chugging along pleasantly enough, covering over the paper-thin nature of the story.

Still, it’s one of eighteen films listed in the IMDb for Ng this year, and you certainly get the sense this was something put together and churned out with no great regard for quality. There isn’t even that much action, save for the jewel robbery. Things do perk up at the end, after they locate the last robber in a closed amusement park – only for Jacky unwittingly to spill the beans on his location to Hanks, leading to him sending his posse there. Fortunately, Mary’s impending father-in-law is there, to draw on his old, very particular set of skills. It’s quite energetic and well-staged, though falls some way short of doing enough to move the needle far. There’s no doubt that just about everyone involved has been part of significantly better films. Though if you are in the mood for something entirely undemanding and light, this would probably pass muster.

Dir: Andy Chin
Star: Sandra Ng, Charine Chan, Kong Wa, Catherine Hung

Shuddhi

  By

★★★
“Social justice vs. warrior.”

I should probably start by providing some background the film omits – likely because the intended Indian audience were well aware of it. In 2012, a notorious gang-rape took place in Delhi, the victim subsequently dying. Of the six attackers, four were sentenced to death and one committed suicide in prison – but the sixth, being a juvenile, could only receive a maximum sentence of three years. This loophole appalled many, including two journalists depicted in this film, Jyothi (Nivedhitha) and Divya (Karagada), who begin a campaign to revise the law.

At the same time, American photographer Karlyn Smith (Spartano) returns to India, with a very different but even more personal mission: taking revenge on the men who raped her. This is a highly-risky job, beginning when her attempt to buy a gun turns into a mugging. Matters aren’t helped when another attempted robbery leads to her attacker’s death, and a subsequent police investigation by Rakesh Patil (Purushotham). Nevertheless, she persists, tracking down and eliminating the gang responsible like a female Charles Bronson; initially, one by one, then finding the remainder as they crash a house party.

It really feels like two different movies edited together. You have Jyothi and Divya, touring the country putting on little stage plays, offering an interpretive dance version of gang-rape in a bid to raise awareness. Then there’s Karlyn, opting for a considerably more direct form of protest: shooting rapists. The threads only overlap at the end, in an extended coda where Karlyn may or may not have drowned. It’s all rather confusing, and the film’s insistence on jiggling the time-line for dramatic effect is also more irritating than enlightening. For instance, it opens with an off-camera shooting, that turns out – for no good reason – to be the second robbery attempt on our vengeful heroine.

The good news is Spartano – who has almost no previous feature work to her name – does an excellent job with her part of the film, and it’s that which held my interest. Interesting decision by the makers, to create and cast an American character for this role, rather than using an Indian actress. [The director know the actress from his time at the New York Film Academy, and also brought on board an American music director and cinematographer] Yet it still manages to weave in to its narrative strands from Indian mythology: the title is an alternate name for the goddess Durga, the Hindu warrior goddess. Wikipedia tells me her “mythology centres around combating evils and demonic forces that threaten peace, prosperity and dharma of the good. She is the fierce form of the protective mother goddess, willing to unleash her anger against wrong, violence for liberation and destruction to empower creation.”

Hard to argue with that: at one point, Karlyn says, “When you get used to it – killing – it’s as easy as breathing.” And there’s one particularly memorable shot at the party where Karlyn just stalks past an opening, and it suddenly feels like a wildlife documentary about tigers hunting. Just a shame they film didn’t go full-bore into this aspect, rather than diluting it with Jyothi and Divya’s ineffectual social campaigning.

Dir: Adarsh Eshwarappa
Star: Lauren Spartano, Nivedhitha, Amrutha Karagada, Shashank Purushotham

Sumuru

  By

★★
“Queen of Outer Space”

A spaceship piloted by Adam Wade (Shanks) and Jake Carpenter (Bridgett) crashes on a planet at the far end of our galaxy. They’re searching for a colony which had landed there almost a millennium previously, only to find things not as expected. Somehow, over the centuries since, women have taken absolute control of society, relegating men to literal slaves, and worshipping a giant serpent as their deity. However, the men discover the planet is about to shake itself to pieces, and the residents need to be evacuated. Adam makes an ally of the current queen, Sumuru (Kamp), but that alone makes an enemy of high-priestess Taxan (Levin). She has held a grudge ever since the women elected Sumuru leader, and is intent on taking her place, by any means necessary.

This was (very loosely) based on a character created by pulp writer Sax Rohmer, best known as the creator of Fu Manchu. Less renowned is his character Sumuru, originally invented by Rohmer for a BBC radio series just after the war. She then became the villainess in five books published during the fifties. There were two previous movie adaptations in the sixties, also with Harry Alan Towers involved as producer. Shirley Eaton – best known for her painted death in Goldfinger – played Sumuru in The Million Eyes of Sumuru and The Girl From Rio. I’ve seen the first, and it doesn’t qualify for inclusion here; though if you’re interested, here’s my review elsewhere.

I mention all this, largely because it means I have about a hundred words less to write in regard to this. It’s a thoroughly forgettable South African film, which plays somewhere between an old-school episode of Doctor Who (the last time I saw so many scenes apparently set in a gravel-pit) and The Perils of Gwendolyn. It is at least slightly closer to the first novel than the previous movies; the book did have Sumuru plotting to create a “new world order,” ruled by women, but here it’s more a result of unfortunate circumstance, centuries ago, than any kind of deliberate plan. And given how quickly society unravels after the arrival of Adam and Jake, I’m uncertain how it lasted 900 years.

This really needs to have done more with the concept of a gynocentric civilization, and pitting warrior priestess against technocrat is an interesting idea. However, the film just doesn’t have the resources to construct anything close to what’s needed, with little more than 20 actors of either sex. There are too many missteps, such as the way the women speak exactly the same language as the spacemen [compare 12th-century English to what we have now, as a yardstick], or the remarkably well-preserved “ancient” technology. Adam occasionally provides a nicely sardonic commentary on the silliness of it all, and we do eventually get the hoped-for face-off between Taxan and Sumuru. It’s precious little return, and you’ve got to endure far too much running around rocky terrain, for even these small pleasures.

Dir: Darrell Roodt
Star: Michael Shanks, Alexandra Kamp, Simona Levin, Terence Bridgett –

The Sisterhood

  By

★★★
“Many Mad Maxines.”

This one may be the origin of the meme, “After the apocalypse, food, water and gasoline are in short supply – but hair-spray will still be plentiful.” For there’s no denying the absolute silliness of this slab of post-apocalyptic nonsense. But it’s still imaginative and energetic enough that my interest was largely sustained. We’re apparently long enough after World War III for it all to have become the stuff of almost-forgotten legend. In the aftermath, the world is now occupied by roaming bands, mostly of men. However, certain women are gifted with special powers, and they have banded together into the titular group, under their reverend mother, and are feared by most as witches.

After her settlement is attacked by Mikal (Wagner, looking like a low-rent Chuck Norris), and her brother killed, Marya (Johnson) hits the road, seeking revenge. She meets two members of the Sisterhood, Alee (Holden) and Vera (Patrick), and when they discover Marya’s gift, the ability to communicate with her pet hawk, they allow her to join them. Vera is abducted by Mikal, who then heads off to add her to the collection of Sisterhood members, being held in one of the few remaining cities. Alee and Marya follow, until a shortcut into the forbidden zone of radiation and mutants lets them stumble across a pre-apocalypse arms dump. Now armed with automatic weapons and a tank (!), they are thoroughly well-equipped, first to rescue Vera, and then storm the city and liberate the rest of their sisters.

Made in 1988, the debt this owes to the Mad Max trilogy (which had finished with Beyond Thunderdome, three years earlier) is apparent to the point of being blatant. There’s a lot of whizzing around in a quarry, with giant fireballs going off just to the side of the target. For, while it’s remarkable the heroines are able immediately to drive their tank, their talents clearly do not extend to aiming the guns accurately. This is all highly mockable, not least that it’s apparently set in the far-distant future of… er, the year 2021. Yet those involved play it all entirely straight, and eventually I found this seriousness rubbing off on me. There were occasional moments which, if not making me go “Wow!”, did extract a somewhat-impressed “Huh.”.

Director Santiago should be well-known to readers here, having also given us Angel Fist and The Muthers; he brings much the same combination of female empowerment and exploitation here. Because, for all the strong female characters, they also seem to spent a inordinate amount of time either chained up or getting their tops ripped open – and, occasionally, both. But Holden and Johnson manage to rise above the low-rent production values with their dignity intact – even if nothing remotely like the video sleeve is to be found in this one! By the admittedly low standards of the genre, this is likely well-above average. And we only have to wait two years for it all to come to pass…

Dir: Cirio H. Santiago
Star: Rebecca Holden, Chuck Wagner, Lynn-Holly Johnson, Barbara Patrick

She Never Died

  By

★★★★½
“Angel of vengeance”

This is neither a prequel nor a sequel to He Never Died, but is clearly related, and takes place in the same universe. Like its predecessor, it was written by Jason Krawczyk, who hands the directorial reins over to Cummings for this. And it probably works better as a result. I tend to think having a separate writer and director allows each to build on the other’s talents, while countering the weaknesses. In particular, He, which starred Henry Rollins, didn’t have quite enough plot to sustain it. That isn’t an issue here, resulting in improved pacing. Combine this with the ultimate “give no damns” performance at its core, and you’ve got one of the best action heroine films of 2019.

That performance is Adeliyi’s portrayal of “Lacey”, whose real name we learn at the end, and which will make some sense to students of Biblical lore. Like Rollins’s character, she plays an immortal being, doomed to wander the planet for eternity, sustained only on human flesh. However, she operates on a code, eating only scumbags. This still brings her to the attention of local authorities, in particular the thoroughly world-weary Detective Godfrey (MacNeill). But when he discovers Lacey’s nature, he makes the ill-fated decision to weaponize her, and points her in the direction of a sex-trafficking ring run by Terrance (Danby), which he has been unable to take down by more formal methods. Complicating matters is the gang’s victim, Suzzie (Madeira), whom Lacey encounters during her first mission, and who becomes something of her acolyte.

Lacey is potentially among the most taciturn bad-asses of the genre, a woman of few words, whose remarkable healing powers allow her to take a baseball bat to the head, and then discuss the mild irritation of having to wait for a detached retina to repair itself. No wonder Suzzie is confused, wondering “Are you just a jacked-up lady blitzed out of her mind? Or a government experiment on the lam? Robot? Zombie? Vampire? You sound like a vampire.” The contrast between the pair, one hyper almost to the point of manic, the other deader than deadpan, is a joy. Seeing Adeliyi in action is another. This film doesn’t shortchange her diet, and Cummings background in horror is apparent. About the only person who can half-stand up to Lacey is the person in charge of the traffickers – which makes me wonder if they, too, may be more than human.

It’s one of the intriguing questions which this poses. Particularly at the end, after things appear to have been tied up nicely, the story opens an entire case of cans of worms, with both Godfrey and Lacey having encounters that’ll leave you going “Hmmm…” And that’s not even including the Bikers of the Apocalypse. While it’s definitely not necessary to have seen He Never Died, the cross-over of information may slightly enhance your information of both. I’m wondering if it’s all pointing towards a third entry – They Never Died?- in which the characters from these two films team up. If so, where do I start the queue?

Dir: Audreey Cummings
Star: Olunike Adeliyi, Peter MacNeill, Kiana Madeira, Noah Danby

Screened at Phoenix FearCon 2019

Shadow of the Lotus

  By

★★
“Give the man a hand!”

We know very well that, on low-budget films, people have to wear many hats. Hell, my IMDb entry began when a film I was supposed to be helping my wife produce, had an actor drop out. You can only respect those who can turn their hands to multiple jobs. And, yet… There’s a point at which it become self-defeating, because nobody can be good – or even competent – at so many positions. Lotus appears to have set new records in this area, with Jeff L’Heureux having his name listed in the end credits at no fewer than thirty different points, from director to make-up artist. That’s wearing an entire department store’s worth of hats, most apparent in the running time. For this is an 85-minute movie which runs for 124 minutes. L’Heureux the editor desperately needed to have had a word with L’Heureux the director and L’Heureux the writer about that.

There are two crime triads: the Black Lotus and the Red Dragons. Sarah (Huang) works for the former, but when she attempts to leave the organization, is shot, set ablaze and left for dead [Memo to self: if ever I become an evil overlord, I will not set my enemies on fire within easy rolling reach of the Pacific Ocean…] Naturally, she’s still alive, and comes back to begin disrupting the somewhat precarious plans of her former gang to form an alliance with the Dragons – I guess with the goal of forming some kind of super-triad under Gensho Woo (Geoff Wong). In the process, she encounters and subsequently teams up with local cop Claire (Neale), who has been trying to work things from the legal end. Sarah, needless to say, has no such limitations…

As noted, this is desperately in need of severe trimming, with hardly a single scene which does not go on for too long, where not altogether superfluous. This is particularly apparent in the early stages: it feels like an hour before things actually get going, with endless chit-chat between the players that’s blandly uninteresting. Things do improve in the second half, even if I found myself irrationally irritated by the way Sarah held her gun sidewise, like an amateur gangsta wannabe. The main plus is former colleague Jade (Macalino), who gets the chance to unleash her inner psycho. You could perhaps argue her performance is rampant over-acting, yet it’s still a heck of a lot of fun to watch, and the film is the poorer for Jade’s eventual departure.

L’Heureux is clearly inspired by, and trying to reproduce, the style of classic Hong Kong cinema from the likes of John Woo. That’s laudable enough an aim. Though the action is competent, it does fall short of these lofty goals, mostly lacking the passion and intensity which Woo’s actors brought to his films. This was never a function of their cost – admittedly, having Chow Yun-Fat was just a slight help to him there – though in defense of this, it appears to have been the director’s first feature. Plenty of room to improve next time, especially if he gets the help he needs to avoid spreading himself thinner than margarine on toast.

Dir: Jeff L’Heureux
Star: Vicky Huang, Melanie Neale, Alex Law, Candice Macalino

Survivor, by Saffron Bryant

  By

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

Nova is a bounty hunter, smuggler and generally survivor of life in the grey areas of legality. In need of a quick buck to fix her space-ship, she takes on the hunt for a couple of escaped fugitives. She locates them working in an archaeological dig being run by the Confederacy – which is odd, since the planet in question was supposedly never inhabited. An unfortunate translation error ends up helping unleash a long-buried race of reptiloid extra-terrestrials, the Ancients – a species with both the inclination and the ability to wage genocidal war on the rest of the galaxy. And Nova is the only one left who can stop them.

This is remarkably gripping for a story which contains little more than two human characters: Nova, and Codon, the Confederacy scientist in charge of the excavations. Everyone else is taken out of the equation quite early; I guess you could marginally include Cal, the Class Four Laborbot, who helps Nova on her ship? Yet it goes to show that, in the presence of a strong story-line, you don’t need a large cast. This pits Nova against the Ancients in straightforward terms, and it seems a one-sided battle – until she’s captured, and is harshly interrogated. The mental torture inflicted on her has a strange effect: I’d be hard pushed to explain exactly what, but it seems to give her some abilities involving the fourth dimension.

It’s not quite time travel: nothing that controllable. Yet it’s along those lines, and is not the only moment at which the story reminded me of an episode of Doctor Who. The whole “one person bravely facing down an alien enemy” is definitely Who-esque. though unlike the Doctor, Nova has no qualms about getting her hands dirty, when necessary. As in any story which plays with time, there is potential for paradox, and I’m not certain this is rock-solid in that aspect. There are a couple of other plot-holes too: for example, the force-field which keeps Nova on the planet, suddenly goes away at the end, for no other reason that it needs to.

Still, it’s a solid page-turner, and I was particularly impressed by the complete lack of any romantic angles. Ok, the only male to be found is Codon, and he’s a bit of a dick, to put it mildly. However, it remained refreshing: I’ve read (and discarded) my share of thinly-disguised romances in action-heroine clothing, thank you very much. Nova, in comparison, seems the real deal. I also enjoyed the sequences where Nova’s reality is on very thin ice: conveying a psychotic break isn’t easy, yet Bryant seems to capture the thoroughly unsettling sense of having no idea what’s “real”. Where will Nova and her uncertain abilities go next? I’m keen to find that out.

Author: Saffron Bryant [a.k.a. “Saff”]
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 10 in the Nova Chronicles. [Amazon calls is 2 of 11, but the first book there is really a prequel, so is #0]

Sendero, by Max Tomlinson

  By

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

When you think of drugs, terrorism and South America, Colombia probably comes first to mind, thanks to Pablo Escobar and his cartel pals. However, it’s far from the only country in the region with a troubled history. Peru has had its fair share of strife: it produces virtually as much cocaine, and the Marxist guerillas of the Shining Path movement fought a long, bloody war against the government through the eighties. It’s during this time that the novel begins. Young girl Nina has her father killed by soldiers hunting the guerillas in her rural village, and her brother Miguel vanishes to join the Shining Path.

More than two decades later, Nina has grown up to become a cop in Lima, with the dirty war against the Shining Path apparently over – the terrorists have now, effectively, merged with the drug traffickers. She encounters Malqui, the former village priest who spent eight years in prison for protesting the murder of Nina’s father, and mentions knowing someone who had recently met Miguel. However, before she can get any more information, Malqui is picked up by the authorities and vanishes into the dark network of secret prisons. For it seems the dirty war is not as over as is publicly stated. To rescue Malqui – and perhaps be reunited with her long-lost brother – Nina is going to have to get her own hands dirty as well.

I must confess, I confused the title with “sicario,” the drug cartel term for hit-man. Between that and the cover, I was expecting something… different. Turns out, sendero is Spanish for “path” – and those who support the guerillas. Quite whether this includes the heroine is an interesting point. After the death of her father, it seems odd for her to end up as part of the government authorities, yet she becomes part of the “resistance” as she seeks to locate and free Malqui. Though by the end of the book, it’s clear that the remnants of the Shining Path are no more the solution either, with their morality little if any less problematic. The entire novel could be printed in various shades of grey: even Nina is prepared to do bad things for what she perceives as a good end.

As such, it’s a very thought-provoking read, and opened my eyes to the history of a country about which I had never known much previously, and its social and political struggles. If there’s a weakness, it’s probably the way in which Nina ends up taking a seat in the second half, with the story’s focus shifting to Miguel and his colleagues in the Shining Path [though among them, Comrade Inez does partly fill in for the lack of Nina]. It’s a shame, for Nina is an excellent heroine: one who never forgets either where she came from, or where she wants to be, and is willing to risk everything for others, in a highly altruistic manner. Hopefully, the second book is all Nina, all the time.

Author: Max Tomlinson
Publisher: Sendero Press, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 1 of 2 in the Sendero series.

Sheba, Baby

  By

★★★
“Neither claim on the top left of the poster are accurate.”

After the success of Coffy and Foxy Brown, Pam Grier continued her career with this not dissimilar blaxploitation flick, albeit one of a more restrained approach. Indeed, this received a ‘PG’ rating at the time of its release in April 1975, something modern ears would likely find shocking, considering the copious use of certain racial epithets deployed here. She plays private detective Sheba Shayne, who returns to her home town of Louisville from Chicago, after getting a telegram from her father’s business partner, Brick Williams (Stoker). He warns that her father (Challenger) is taking on some rough customers who are trying to force him into selling his company. Sheba, naturally, is having none of it, and when the police refuse to do much, starts working her way up the food-chain of scumbags, to the apex predator of The Man, who in this incarnation is Shark (Merrifield).

There’s not much here which could be described as particularly new or exciting. Indeed, I almost passed on the movie entirely, thinking I’d already seen it, but it appears I was confusing this with Friday Foster. That’s the thing about Grier’s career: she received only limited opportunities to break out from the ghetto of blaxploitation, and to some degree, her output is much of a muchness. Though at this point, there were precious few other areas of English-speaking media which allowed women to kick butt in the way she did. We were still in the era before Charlie’s Angels and Wonder Woman, albeit just – WW started the November after Sheba came out, and CA the following year.

For now, Grier was ploughing her own furrow in the vanguard of action heroines, and despite the generic nature of this offering (it was the final movie of Pam’s contract with American International Pictures), still represents okay value for money. It does gloss over the fact that Sheba’s Dad is little more than a kinder, gentler loan-shark, operating what appears to be a payday finance company, of the kind often described as “predatory” these days. It’s not even clear quite why Shark is so keen to take over the business. Fortunately, before becoming a Chicago PI, seems Sheba was a local cop. She still has some of the connections from that time – as a bonus, without having to worry about niceties like ‘due process’ or ‘police brutality’.

Even with the relatively low-key sex ‘n’ violence allowed by the PG rating [which would be “almost none” and “light”, compared to Grier’s previous offerings], it’s still fun to watch her in action. The highlight is likely her encounter with a “street entrepreneur” wearing a suit which looks more like an optical illusion. After he runs off, rather than answer her questions, she simply gets into the back of his pimpmobile and waits for him to return. It builds toward her sneaking onto Shark’s boat, jumping off it, sneaking back on, getting caught, escaping, and eventually chasing him through the Southern bayou on a jetski. It seems to have strayed in from Live and Let Die, and the cops seem remarkably unfazed by Sheba behaving in a manner more befitting Moby Dick, shall we say.

As noted at the top, this falls short of Grier’s best work, though is still better than Foster. It’s workmanlike, rather than impressive, and the restraint necessary for the certificate probably works against it. The words “family-friendly” and “blaxploitation” are clearly better off kept apart from each other, I suspect.

Dir: William Girdler
Star: Pam Grier, Austin Stoker, Rudy Challenger, Dick Merrifield

Sword of Order, by S. Mays

  By

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

Book 0 in the series? It seems a little odd, as this obviously leads in to the “first” book – Curse of Souls, published in September 2017 – yet Sword came out just three months later. Reading the synopsis, it seems as if Curse may be focused on a different character: college student Sverre Walker, who encounters Jessica Luvkrafft, warrior for the Order of Mankind. Sword is the story of how Jessica became that warrior.

The Order is a massive, ancient, extremely well-funded and completely covert religious organization which, more less, fights for humanity against things that go bump in the night. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, elementals… They’re all real, and the Order is in the front-line of making sure the threat they pose does not overwhelm the human race. As Jessica’s father Jake puts it, “We are the Sword of God. We were put here to eliminate the evils and abominations that seek to overrun our world.” To do so, the Order uses all the technology they can, much of which is developed in house, and not available even to the military.

Jake is a former field operative who now does R&D at one of the Order’s bases. His wife, Abigail, was killed on a mission, leaving him to take care of their daughter Jessica, who is aged 12 when the book starts, and in training. What’s supposed to be a simple mission ends up in the death of the Order member in charge (he was, to put it mildly, a bit of a dick). Even though Jessica was culpable in the fatality, by order of the Council of Overseers, she is fast-tracked to be his replacement. Getting there will require her overcoming her guilt, undergoing some brutal training, and passing a test where the price of failure is both death and her immortal soul.

That’s just the start, and it does feel a bit of a weakness that the book tries to cram in an entire decade’s worth of action. By the end, as mentioned above, Jessica is old enough to go undercover at college and there are a couple of points where it seems multiple years are skipped over with the wave of a paragraph. It also lacks a proper antagonist, with no-one showing up to fit that role until 70% of the way through. On the positive side, it’s a world with almost infinite potential, and I liked the way religion is incorporated into the book in a non-judgmental way.

It does end at a satisfactory point, with Jessica being given the mission that will form Book 1. If it didn’t appear that she’s a co-star at best in that, I’d be more inclined to read it. Despite the flaws and jerky pacing (as well as a cover that’s rather… different to the techno-warrioress we actually get!), Mays has laid the groundwork for a decent heroine in Jessica, and the prospect of her eventually going up against Countess Bathory is an intriguing one.

Author: S. Mays
Publisher: Amazon Digital Services, available through Amazon, both as a paperback and an e-book
Book 0 of 2 in the Warrior of Souls series.