Category Archives: Reading

Her Last Holiday by C.L. Taylor

Picture a time in your life, if you would. You’re thisclose to a nervous breakdown, and your family is as helpful as a court summons — they’re the root cause of all your problems anyway. What are you to do? You’re going to need help, right? A little counselling will go a long way, but you just need to find the right people to guide you. So the internet becomes your friend, and very soon you’ve signed up to a few days in the sun with like-minded messed-up individuals, ready to throw caution to the wind and your worries into the sea. Sounds ideal, doesn’t it? Well, it would be, if you didn’t end up missing, presumed dead, with your life coach in prison for negligent homicide. This is what happened to Jenna Fitzgerald.

Jenna joins a group called ShrinkSoul, a self-help organisation run by Tom Wade and his wife Kate. They’re a kind of internet sensation who supposedly help people in crisis to attain better control over themselves and their lives. Tom oozes charisma and is the handsome face of ShrinkSoul. Kate runs the business and micro-manages her husband every step of the way. Jenna is attracted to what they have to offer, as well has being drawn to Tom in other ways. Her Last Holiday, the latest psychological thriller from bestselling author C.L. Taylor (The Fear, Sleep, Strangers), is a fast-moving, page-turning read that examines, amidst the confusion and drama, how domestic violence, whether physical, verbal, or both, turns lives upside down and make the most confident person in the room tremble at the very mention of ‘family’.

The story begins with Tom being released from a two-year stretch behind bars due to the accidental deaths of two people at a retreat on the Mediterranean island of Gozo, off the coast of Malta. Jenna went missing, and the coroner confirmed that she more than likely took her own life. No one was ever charged with her disappearance. Kate, meanwhile, has had to start from scratch, but she sees an opportunity to take advantage of Tom’s release and pretty soon they’re both back in the self-help business. Jenna’s sister Fran is sent by her mother Geraldine to investigate the new organisation, and tasked with finding out exactly what happened to Jenna. She’s been booked to participate in a retreat in Wales.

Her Last Holiday is told in three distinct points of view. Fran is the leading character and we learn a lot about her and her relationships with Jenna and her family as we go along. Jenna’s voice comes from just before her disappearance; we meet her as she and her fellow travellers-in-life land in Malta. Kate is the last PoV. Her story is complex, and we see her working through her post-trial anxiety, welcoming her husband back home, and then immediately kickstarting the organisation once more. Her story within Her Last Holiday is, for me, the one I found the most engrossing. Overall, though, the different perspectives and changes of tense worked throughout.

C.L. Taylor (Image c/o The Scotsman)

The twists (for there are always twists), when they come, are earned. Some you’ll see coming; others you won’t. But my favourite parts of the book were the one-to-one therapy sessions. Despite lying about herself to get there, Fran opens up to Tom about her life, and we learn about the dominant and oftentimes abusive figure of her and Jenna’s mother Geraldine. The supporting characters are decently fleshed out, and more than a few of them are relevant to the plot. I enjoyed reading about Phoenix, Joy, Renata, and Damian. If I take one thing from reading C.L. Taylor’s book, it’s that while we’re all a little messed up, we are so mainly because of family.

I received a free copy of Her Last Holiday from NetGalley and the publishers, in return for an honest review.

Passion Play by Claire O’Dell

Therez Zhalina has lived a very sheltered life in Melnek. She is the daughter of a ambitious merchant who, unfortunately for the 15-year-old girl, has big plans for the family and business, whether Thereze likes it or not. And she doesn’t. Following a formal dinner, where Therez is introduced to Melnek society, the young girl is devastated to find out that her father has arranged her to be married to a cool and cruel man, Theodr Galt. Therez has dreams of her own. She wishes to travel to Duenne and attend university there. Basically, she wants to see the world. Her father’s plans would set her on a path on which she would have no control over her life. So she decides to leave without saying a word.

Taking what money she’s saved, she ends up gaining carriage out of Melnek with a caravan owner and his cohort of unsavoury fellow travellers. This is where things take a dark turn in Thereze’s young life. Most of her possessions have been stolen from her, and in order to stay on her journey she is forced to trade with the only thing she has left: her body. In a series of gruelling scenes, for the reader as well as Therez, the girl makes a choice to give up her body and innocence to her rapists — for that is what they are, regardless of the choice Therez makes. She is but a child, but now she’s little more than a sex slave. I found these sections of the story very hard to read.

When Therez eventually makes her escape, she ends up at a pleasure house run by Lord Raul Kosenmark, a duke who was once an advisor for the king. He, too, ran away from his responsibilities. Therez changes her name to Ilse, and is referred to this new name for the rest of the book. Raul offers her a position in his household once she’s physically well, and Ilse begins to form new friendships in the kitchen. Raul sees potential in her and so takes her on as his secretary. It is from this position that Ilse learns of what is going on in the world around her. There is more than politics at play here. There is magic everywhere, with some people being more gifted than others. There are plots, and there’s a war brewing. In the midst of all this, there is a sacred jewel that has gone missing, one that holds the key to power.

A number of things intrigue me about Passion Play. Author Claire O’Dell, whose work I’ve reviewed here before, has created a world that is not unlike Eastern Europe, with names and a magical language that almost Germanic. If I could posit a theory, the politics at play here are similar to what led to the outbreak of WWI. I could be wrong, but that’s how I read it. The countries that surround Ilse and Raul each have their own border controls and internal politics. Throw a sinister magician into the mix, and you have the spark for major bloodshed. The other volumes in the series will no doubt explore these complexities in greater detail. In Passion Play we’re given what information we need to know at this juncture. The system of magic has at its core, I do believe, a knowledge that one has lived a previous life. Reincarnation rears its head once more. I find this very fascinating.

Claire O’Dell

I was impressed by the level of detail O’Dell put into her world-building. I’m a sucker for detail, and the author does not disappoint. Her supporting characters have good background stories and I have no doubt that characters we see in passing will pop up again in later books. I enjoyed this book, and while some readers will understandably balk at the level of sexual violence at the start, there is a pay-off towards the end. When Passion Play ends, neither Ilse nor Raul are the same people when we first meet them. They’ve both endured tragedy and loss of familial connection. Where this takes them, we will have to find out for ourselves in the next book, Queen’s Hunt.

The Reincarnationist Papers by D. Eric Maikranz

In July of last year million of us around the globe sat down to watch the latest hit movie to come from Netflix. The Old Guard starred Charlize Theron as Andromache (Andy) of Scythia, one of a group of near immortal beings, masquerading among us mere humans as soldiers of fortune, mercenaries travelling the globe taking on causes to help humanity. It was as action-packed as it was thought-provoking, drawing on the myth, and sometimes the hope, that gods live alongside us.

In 2009, author D. Eric Maikranz self-published his debut novel, The Reincarnationist Papers, urging his readers to act as agents and promote his book to Hollywood movie producers. Fast forward to this year, 2021, Infinite, directed by Antoine Fuqua and starring Mark Wahlberg, based on Maikranz’s novel, is scheduled for release in September. I’m really looking forward to the forthcoming adaptation, because this book is really good.

Like The Old Guard, The Reincarnationist Papers tells the story of a group of people who live forever. Unlike the heroes of Theron’s movie, the characters in Maikranz’s book age and die naturally. Some die by other means, but in the main, when their bodies die, their souls are reincarnated into another newborn body. The concept behind this is, I think, we all reincarnate but only a very, very small number of us remember our previous lives. This is what happens to the main character, Evan Michaels, who from an early age can recall two previous lives: a Bulgarian who fought in World War I; and a young boy from Georgia in the United States who died in a fire. Needless to say, these memories mess him up and when we meet Evan, he’s a professional arsonist, making money from people defrauding insurance companies, and contemplating suicide. When a job threatens to go south on him, he’s rescued by Poppy, a mysterious woman who lives with her servant in an abandoned church. She nurses Evan back to health and tells him a story he doesn’t quite understand but nevertheless is close to believing.

D. Eric Maikranz

Poppy is one of an elite group of 27 people who can remember their previous lives. She is convinced that Evan is another reincarnated soul, but he must meet the other members and prove his worthiness through a trial known as Ascension. The book then takes Evan and the reader on a journey through time and memory. Maikranz backs up his main story with plenty of thought-provoking and philosophical discussion about life without death. I found these sections fascinating and important to the story as a whole. Peppered throughout are narratives about Evan’s and Poppy’s previous lives. We learn more about most of the other members of the Cognomina (the name they give themselves), who meet up in Zurich every year on Midsummer’s Day. They are rich beyond comprension and Evan wants –needs — to be part of this family.

My favourite characters are Samas, an art collector who has his own agenda for Evan; and Poppy herself, who is mercurial and not altogether trustworthy. These beings, despite being long-lived, have human needs and traits, and each of them has a backstory that could fill another book or two in this series. Maikranz has a second book coming out in the near future, too, thank goodness: Evan and his new family practically demand it.

Also available from the author is a free-to-read origin prequel, which serves as an interesting prologue to the main book. I recommend you read this first, though it’s not a prequisite. D. Eric Maikranz has written a little beauty here, full of great characters and excellent story-telling. If you have the slightest interest in life and rebirth, I don’t hesitate in asking you to read The Reincarnationist Papers. Don’t wait for the movie.

Remote Control by Nnedi Okorafor

A book that has stayed with me years after I read it is called Who Fears Death. Published in 2010, it was written by Nnedi Okorafor, a multiple award-winning author born in the United States to Igbo Nigerian parents. It’s an amazing work of what she describes as Africanfuturism. In an essay Dr Okorafor penned in 2019, she defined the term as a sub-category of science-fiction that is “rooted in African culture, history, mythology, and point of view that does not centre on the West or Western privilege.” It is an essay worth reading in its entirety, because it offers a unique and profound insight into the works of this brilliant author, who not only writes for adults, but for younger readers, too.

Remote Control, by Nnedi Okorafor (Image: tinhouse.com)

Who Fears Death is set in post-apocalyptic Sudan. Dr Okorafor’s Binti trilogy has as its main character a girl who’s part of Himba ethnic group in Namibia. In Remote Control, Fatima is Ghanaian. She lives with her parents on a farm in the village of Wulugu. Despite being plagued by malaria for much of her young life, Fatima is happy. Her grandmother encourages her to look to the stars, and she develops a language all of her own, one she calls “sky words”, which she uses to draw pictures on the ground beneath her favourite shea tree. One night, after a meteor storm, a wooden box appears from under the ground. In it is a seed that, to Fatima, looks like an egg. This seed has unexplained mystical properties, and following an unannounced visit by a local politician, the box is taken away from her. This event unleashes a lethal force from within Fatima, which kills not only her parents, but everyone in the village. The force is so great that it makes Fatima forget her own name, so she adopts a new one. She is now Sankova, and along with a fox she christens Movenpick (after a hotel chain), she goes in seach of that which was taken away from her.

Sankova’s power makes her infamous. Both feared and respected, this young girl, not even in her teens when the incident happened, is clothed, fed, and allowed to rest on every stage of her journey. Occasionally she helps those who come to her aid, using her power to kill to end the suffering of people who are terminally ill. But her power forbids her to touch or use anything electrical or mechanical. She is forced to walk wherever she goes. Along the way she meets people who genuinely want to help her settle, as well as those who want to kill her. It ends badly for the latter, it has to be said. Sankova learns to control her glow, earning the nickname of “Remote Control.” Her fox is always nearby.

(image: c/o Twitter)

Events in the village of RoboTown, and an encounter with an automated traffic control system, called robocop, forms the main thrust of a novella that is essentially episodic in nature. Knowing that she is being monitored by an American corporation, LifeGen, Sankova makes the decision to return home, to where it all began.

Dr Okorafor’s writing is as evocative as ever, and Remote Control hit me with the same punch as her other books. But there’s a difference. In Who Fears Death and Binti, Nnedi’s characters have agency when it comes to their powers and gifts. They knew where it came from and knew, largely, what to do with them. Here, Sankova hasn’t the same advantage for much of the story. She’s lost her identity; she’s lost her family; and she has a power that’s pretty much a curse if you were to look at it closely. And there are those who wish to use Sankova for their own agenda. It’s this last part that brings the novella to a close. What is Sankova to do? You will have to read Remote Control to find out. Published in January of this year, by Tor, I politely request that you visit the world and work of Dr Nnedi Okorafor.

No Gods, No Monsters by Cadwell Turnbull

I’ve read a couple of horror/monster related novels already this year, with Mark Matthews’ The Hobgoblin of Little Minds being the pick of the bunch. Cadwell Turnbull’s second book, No Gods, No Monsters, is a different beast altogether, if you pardon the pun. Both authors offer a fresh take on the werewolf mythos, preferring to focus on the psychological effect of actually being a monster in a contemporary environment. Whereas Matthews’ book is a visceral gut-punch, Turnbull’s novel is more reflective, has a larger cast of characters, and weaves its story through time and locations which don’t, at the outset, seem to connect with one another. But they do, in the end. How Turnbull gets there is genius.

It’s a difficult book to give a synopsis of, but I’ll try. The book is framed and narrated in parts by Calvin who, like the author, is a native of the U.S. Virgin Islands. He ends a relationship when he learns of his brother’s death. He goes back home to reconnect with his niece. Laina, who I consider to be the main character, has also lost her brother, Lincoln, who was gunned down by police. Echoes of police violence on people of colour in the U.S. and elsewhere weighed heavy on my mind as I read this and other parts of the story. Laina learns of a video of her brother’s shooting and immediately shares it online. It is proof that monsters live among us, because her brother was one. But the video is mysteriously edited, leaving Laina and her husband Ridley knocked back emotionally.

And that’s just two of the many character arcs going on here. Throughout the novel we learn of a war between two secret societies: one wants to let the world know that monsters co-exist with regular humanity; the other uses violent means to suppress the information. Caught between the two is a young boy with powers of his own, enough to turn the tide one way or another. He is protected by a group of women which includes a tech mage and a woman who literally takes her skin off and becomes invisible. The boy, who I won’t name because it’s a spoiler of sorts, is hunted by a man who’s been maimed in a ritual. It’s all sorts of crazy, and somewhere in the back of it all, there’s a debate on quantum physics and the ability to slip between dimensions. So, some of what happens occurs in our world, I think, while other events occur in a parallel universe.

Cadwell Turnbull (credit: Anju Manandhar)

One of the many things I love about this book is the diversity of its characters. Cadwell Turnbull brings them to life in a way I’ve not experienced in my reading too much of late. Turnbull brings his Caribbean culture to life in these pages, flavouring his book with characters that do not identify as ‘straight’ or binary. Despite being self-proclaimed monsters in the classic sense, they are as human as you or I, and share similar needs and identities as any of us on this planet. This book left me with a need to read more fiction by authors who don’t look like me, or live a lifestyle similar to mine. I consider this a must in this day and age.

Although No Gods, No Monsters is a fantastical tale, brilliantly written and told, the depth of feeling and sense of urgency is as real as anything you would see in our world. This book will sit with me for some time to come.

My thanks goes to NetGalley and Blackstone Publishing for supplying me with an ARC of No Gods, No Monsters, in exchange for an honest review. The book will be published on September 7, 2021. Get your copy now. You won’t regret it.

Tempest of Bravoure: Kingdom Ascent by Valena D’Angelis

Meriel Ahn Arkamai is dokkalfur, a dark elf, on the run from her past, and heading into a future she’s very unsure of. Going by the her preferred name Ahna, she has kept her true identity and magical abilities safely hidden away for fifty years. The world she lives on is called Terra, but she’s a Dwellunder by birth, feared and respected in equal measure.

The war which led to the Prince of Mal, Xandor Kun, becoming the Dark Lord Sharr, took everything from Ahna: her home, her family, her reason to be. So she left it all behind, with only her friend, the woman who calls her ‘sister’, Kairen, keeping her from straying into total despair. Ahna has, for years on end, spurned Kairen’s call to join the Resistance, but another encounter leads her back into the fold. Ahna isn’t accepted by all, though. Her race leaves others suspicious of her intentions, as Lord Sharr is a dark elf himself, but she gets by because Kairen and her husband David trust her. Ahna doesn’t have the luxury of time to settle in with her new kinfolk, because the Resistance is plotting a new attack, focussed on Bravoure City, the fabled City of Gold.

Valena D’Angelis is a new author, and she debuts with Tempest of Bravoure: Kingdom Ascent, an intriguing addition to the genre of epic fantasy fiction. I finished it over the course of four days, frantically swiping my Kindle to find out where her story was heading. Sure, it has most of the tropes of the genre front and centre: there’s a prophecy; there’s the heroine’s journey; there’s a dark lord to be vanquished; there are diverse races living on or beneath an Earth-like environment; and there are monsters — dragons to be precise. So far, there’s enough here for fans of JRR Tolkien, Terry Brooks, and Robert Jordan.

Valena pulls no punches when it comes to her action scenes; they’re bombastic in scale, and as violent as anything you’d read in modern fantasy. She inhabits her world well with a decent number of likeable characters, important to both plot and main character, that when a couple of them inevitably meet their end, you mourn them. It’s easy to root for Ahna, and while the villain of the piece can be a little boo-hiss from time to time, he has a reason to be who he is and do what he does.

A major subplot I found compelling was the relationship between Ahna and Cedric Rover, a shrike captain, who’s initial loathing of both himself and the dark elf evolves over the course of the book, in a couple of very surprising ways. In this book, secrets are everywhere, but family, in the end, is everything.

One thing I’d like to say, though, is the world of Terra is vast and well-populated. It appears to have a history that goes back eons, with events important to the overall story mentioned briefly and then we move on. I would have enjoyed this book more if it was longer. I know a lot of readers don’t enjoy massive tomes, but in the fantasy genre especially, world-building is a vital part of what makes fans like me really get into a story. Here, there’s a lot of telling without showing, and a part of me was disappointed that there was no deep dive into Terran history, politics, and magic systems. However, I hope in the forthcoming books, we’ll get more exploration.

I give Valena D’Angelis all the kudos in the world for putting her book out there. I know in my heart that she will get better with each novel she publishes. She has made a great start here, and I look forward to reading the second book in this series, Castaway, some time in the near future.

The Eddie Flynn Series by Steve Cavanagh

I was brought up on crime thrillers. Nothing excited me more than watching the good guys catch the bad guys, and getting them put away for murder and fraud. I also enjoyed thrillers where an innocent person needed help to clear their name. I watched old shows like Petrocelli, where a low-key defence attorney who lived in a trailer used his skills and intellect to get his clients cleared of crimes they did not commit. (Occasionally he got it wrong, but he always stuck to the law.)

Modern shows like Law & Order, in all its incarnations, focus on both law enforcement and criminal justice, and are equally compelling in presenting the thrills and spills of the legal system. It’s deeply flawed nationally and internationally, but when it comes to fiction writing, the genre lends itself to providing many, many hours of entertainment. The current HBO show, Perry Mason, is testament to how popular crime and courtroom dramas are and will remain.

Belfast native Steve Cavanagh is a writer who’s currently riding high on the success of a series of electric and exciting novels about New York lawyer Eddie Flynn. To say Eddie is offbeat and eccentric is to do an injustice to a man who uses every trick in the book and under his sleeve to win a case, normally at great cost to himself and those around him. A former con-man and street hustler, Eddie was driven to use his skills in misdirection to help his mother during a medical insurance case.

The first novel proper in the series is The Defence. Eddie’s personal life is a mess, and he’s lost his way in life, but he’s dragged back into court with a bomb strapped to his body, and his daughter’s life in danger. Forced to defend the head of the Russian Mafia in New York, Eddie is in a literal race against time. And did I mention he’s also got a drinking problem? All of this in the first couple of chapters, too. Cavanagh wastes little time on the niceties, and we’re all the better for it. Of course, Eddie realises that no matter what he does, he’s toast, just like his former partner. So he draws on his experience on the streets and in the courtroom, and with the help of a friendly judge, uses the 48 hours he’s been given to turn the tables on his new employers. The book is high-octane, a page turner, and Eddie has always one more trick to play. The pace never lags.

Steve Cavanagh (Credit: Kelly M Photography)

After finishing The Defence, I picked up the other four available books in the series. In The Plea, the FBI and CIA blackmail Eddie into defending a client who’s been accused of murdering his girlfriend. The agencies want Eddie to get the accused man to admit his guilt and take a plea. But Eddie knows there’s more going on. In order to protect his estranged wife, who’s unknowingly tied to a money laundering scheme, he has to go head-to-head with a highly ambitious district attorney who looks down on Eddie as being unworthy of his time. This is another excellent thriller, and Cavanagh lays on the surprises and twists with dexterity.

The Liar continues the trend, with another serpentine story involving Eddie defending an acquaintance from his younger days who’s been charged with the kidnapping and murder of his own daughter. Convinced of his friend’s innocence, Eddie works the case while also helping out the friendly judge, Harry Ford, whose career is in jeopardy due to another lawyer who has demanded the release of casework on a trial the judge was working on. The Liar introduces Agent Harper of the FBI, who eventually works side-by-side with Eddie as the twists come chapter after chapter. Both plots are connected and Eddie and co. have to find out how.

My persona favourite of the series is Thirteen. Eddie is at the centre of the celebrity murder trial of the century. Bobbie Solomon, a movie star, is charged with the murders of his wife and security guard, and Eddie takes on his defence. The twist in this book is that a serial killer, known only as Kane, has found their way onto the jury. This is a premise that can only come from the mind of Steve Cavanagh. There are echoes, however faint, of John Grisham here, but Cavanagh takes his level of plotting to another universe. He mixes the chapters with first person narrative from Eddie himself, and the sinister voice of the killer. The clues as to who this person is are laid out throughout the book, so that when the big reveal comes, we’re not tricked. Bamboozled, stunned, yes; but not taken for fools. Thirteen is glorious.

The last (for now) is Fifty-Fifty, the premise of which is deceptively simple. Two sisters, Alexandra and Sofia Avellino, are accused of the murder of their father. Each blames the other for the crime. At the centre is a $44,000,000 inheritance. The sister found innocent will get the lot. The other goes to prison for life. Eddie represents Sofia, while another lawyer, Kate Brooks represents Alexandra. As in the previous novel, the guilty party, ‘She’, gets chapters to herself. So which of the two lawyers is on the winning side? Cavanagh once again piles layers upon layers of twists, surprises, intrigues, and a shocking death midway through adds to the punchy storyline.

I am in awe of Steve Cavanagh. From the first book till now, with a new one due out hopefully this year, I haven’t read anything near as compulsive and propulsive as the Eddie Flynn novels. He leaves the likes of Grisham and co. for dust.

The Hobgoblin of Little Minds by Mark Matthews

NetGalley and the publishers provided me with an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

The first thing — the very first thing — that struck me about The Hobgoblin of Little Minds, before I even started reading it, before I even looked at the cover or researched the author Mark Matthews, was its title. The phrase is mentioned quite a few times in the text, and it is by no means a throwaway title. It means something to every character in this engrossing horror novel. It was coined by the poet, essayist, and philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson, taken from his 1841 essay Self Reliance. In it, Emerson states that “foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.” A quick search on the internet explains this in layman’s terms for me: basically saying that just because you’ve thought the same thing for most of your life, or performed the same actions, it doesn’t absolve you of the importance of critical thinking, and the necessity of changing your mind and opinion when better information comes to light. (Sounds like a lot of politicians could use this advice here, but we won’t go there.)

Emerson’s metaphor takes on new life (literally) during the course of this novel. Told in a somewhat non-linear way, beginning in 2002 and ending in 2018, The Hobgoblin of Little Minds centres around five main characters. Kori Persephone Driscoe, who’s father Peter has been in and out of psychiatric institutions, serves as our introduction to Mr Matthew’s insane and dangerous world. Kori’s mother is about to hightail it out of Detroit and set up home with her new partner in Florida. Kori doesn’t want to go, and instead visits the hospital where she last saw her father. Anyone from Detroit will be familiar with Northville Psychiatric Hospital in Northville Township,Wayne County, and former Governer Engler’s closure of the hospital for economic reasons. Patients and staff were moved on elsewhere. Kori visits the abandoned building, already the subject of blogs and videos which suggest it’s haunted, and finds that nothing is what it seems anymore.

Peter has been the subject of genetic medical experiments by his doctor, the mysterious Dr Ziti. She is an expert in mental illness, and because of her own family trauma as well as a God Complex, she invents a pharmaceutical that she hopes will harness Peter’s bipolar disorder into something she can use. Basically she Dr Frankenstein, Psychiatrist. But Peter isn’t her first attempt at harnessing this disorder. Her previous failed attempts are chained up in the tunnels under the hospital, and when Kori finds them and her father, the narrative takes a number of strange and disturbing detours.

Maya, a Black woman, traumatised by her mother’s suicide, and subjected to heinous treatment by her local pastor, lands on Dr Ziti’s doorstep, and is partnered up with Peter in a bizzare and horrifying experiment; the result of which is the book’s fifth character, whom I will leave for you to find out more about. I’ve gone far enough into spoilery territory, and wish to go no further.

Mark Matthews

Over the last few years or so, there has been a plethora of vampire and zombie novels, movies, and television shows, but few if any on what we call werewolves. I want to point out that Mr Matthew’s monsters aren’t classic werewolves in the Lon Chaney, jr. vein; they are their own creation, but follow similar patterns of behaviour. The Hobgoblin of Little Minds is as much about how mental illness affects the families of those who endure bipolar disorder as it is about the victims of this illness themselves. Dr Ziti sees that classic attempts to treat sufferers of bipolar disorder don’t work anymore and that it’s time for something new, something extreme. She sees the foolish consistencies of those in the field who preceeded her. But she has an agenda of her own, a deeply personal one.

The Hobgoblins of Little Minds is at times a violent novel. There is one scene that literally had me crossing my legs, but the victim in question deserved their end. Hat’s off to the author, though, who had me enthralled from the first page, and I finished the novel over two nights. (This is a book to read in the dark, trust me.) It’s the terrifying offspring of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein and H.G. Well’s The Island of Doctor Moreau. It also raises questions on medical ethics, and how it can be that sometimes the people we trust to help us won’t always have our best interests in mind: which is something equally as terror-inducing as anything you’ll read in these pages.

Northville Psychiatric Hospital: source MLive.org)

It’s worth reading the author’s Afterword at the end of the book. Mark Matthews offers us his experience in the field of mental illness and treatment and how he came about to write his book. I found this very informative. If you want to learn more about Northville Psychiatric Hospital, you can check out the links here and here.

City of Forts by Jason Beech

Growing up where I did, a suburban town within a bus ride of Dublin’s city centre, wasn’t tough, really. You could say I was born and raised in a “good” part of town. There was little trouble, schools were good, families looked out for one another; there was a community spirit that lives to this day, I believe, although I haven’t been back for years. Growing up often means moving on, moving away, sometimes to a better life, sometimes not. Luck and ambition comes into it. The 1970s and early 1980s were challenging for a lot of families around me, but if you were provided, as I was, with a decent education and a start in the jobs market, then you were already winning. Then the crash happened. And it kept on happening.

It’s still happening, for many families all over the world. Jason Beech‘s novel, City of Forts, tells of one such family, who live in an unnamed town near an unnamed city, somewhere in Midwest, USA, who are in danger of falling into the cracks of society. Caitlin Nardilo is a single mother to Ricky and Brett. She holds down three jobs so she can keep food on the table. Her husband has long since headed to the Coast and is almost completely absent from their lives. Ma doesn’t know that when she heads out to work, Ricky, 13, leaves his younger brother alone in the house for the day so he can escape to the City of Forts with his friends Liz, Bixby, and Tanais. The City of Forts is a piece of land upon which there is an disused factory and a series of abandoned houses. The four friends lay claim to this place and make it their playground. It’s the final summer before they all go to high school. Ricky is in love with Liz, who for her part is unsure about where her life is going to go. Bixby is on the run from social services, having fled his foster home, and is now among the ruins. Tanais is a young Black girl, new to the group, but still figuring out if she belongs with the group or not. They are from the Town, but the City looms nearby, offering hope and menace in equal measure.

We get used to seeing them act around each other. They make do with what cards life has dealt them, and there’s a certain sense, especially with Ricky, that this is going to be as good as it gets. Then, at the very start of the story, Liz falls through a floor and literally lands on a dead body. Not knowing what else to do, because calling the cops will only lead to them being denied access to their secret playground, they decide to bury the body, but not before Ricky steals the money from the dead man’s wallet and takes a look at his ID. This course of action brings the group to the attention of Tarantula Man, the leader of a local criminal gang, the Ghost Boys, who wants to know what happened to his friend. The children are in danger, but don’t trust an adult to help them out.

Ricky’s only saviour is Floyd, a homeless man who seems to be the boy’s guardian angel. Then there’s Mr Vale, and his son Charley, who seem to want to help, but may have an agenda of their own.

Jason Beech has an amazing way with words and characters. His evocative turn of phrase, and his ability to guide us through this story from Ricky’s point of view is breathtaking in its simplicity and execution. You can sense the impending doom from the very first chapter, and this feeling never goes away even in the novel’s quiter moments. City of Forts is beautifully paced throughout, and every character is given their moment to shine. By the time the book comes to a close, each of their lives have changed, not always for the better, it has to be said. Each of their actions demand consequences. Jason Beech is wise enough to allow his characters grow and become young adults. What they do with this new-found maturity is a story for another day. City of Forts is a compelling coming-of-age story, that crosses over into crime fiction, with teenage characters that are likeable and frustrating, just as they should be.

The Count of Monte Cristo: Chapters 1-4

Greetings, dear reader. I wrote in a previous blog that it was my plan to read Alexandre Dumas pere‘s classic adventure novel The Count of Monte Cristo over the course of the next couple of months, taking it three or four chapters at a time. Well, the time has come. Today, I will focus on the opening four chapters of this mammoth 118 chapter long novel. As stated earler, the edition I’m reading from Canterbury Classics, and was published in 2013. I picked it up from Amazon before Christmas for about $15. It has a soft faux-leather cover, and it’s pretty.

The story begins on the morning of February 24, 1815. The date itself is important for historical reasons, but it’s not yet apparent to the characters we meet in these initial chapters why this is. Edmond Dantes disembarks the merchant ship Pharaon at Marseilles. He’s had an eventful journey which took in unscheduled stops at the islands of Monte Cristo and, more importantly for the story, Elba, where a certain former emperor of France lies in exile. Dantes lands there because his fatally ill captain, Leclere, wishes to deliver a package to Napoleon’s marshall. In return he is to take a letter to Paris. Dantes, out of fealty to his captain, agrees to continue this mission when Leclere passes away from a brain fever. Dantes is a good man, but he doesn’t ask the obvious question, and this lands him in huge trouble on home soil.

In double quick time, we meet the Conspirators, and their individual reasons for wanting Dantes out of their lives. Because Dantes acquitted himself well when his captain died (he’s the ship’s mate when we’re introduced to him), his employer wants to make him captain. For one so young (Dantes is barely in his twenties), this is a dream come true. M. Danglars, the supercargo (representative of the owner on board the Pharaon), took a dislike to Dantes from the off and is none too pleased about this rapid promotion. When Dantes goes to see his elderly father, he is horrified to find out that the money he left with his dad to take care of himself while Dantes was at sea, was given instead to their neighbour Caderousse, a drunkard, because of a debt he and Dantes had. The elder Dantes was forced to live on 60 francs for three months. There’s not even a bottle of wine in the house. When Caderousse finds out that Edmond is back, he sees another opportunity to squeeze the man and his father for more money.

Edmond is still unaware of how his return to land and his apparent rise up the ranks sits badly with some of the men around him. No sooner has he said hi to his dad, he’s away to Catalan to meet up with the love of his life, Mercedes Herrera. Unfortunately for Edmond, he has a rival for the young woman’s affections, her cousin Fernand Mondego. He urges Mercedes not to marry outside her Catalan community, but she’s not having it. She practically falls into Edmond’s arms when he interrupts their awkward conversation. Mercedes expects the two men to become fast friends, but neither men like the cut of the other’s jib (and that’s putting it mildly).

As Edmond and Mercedes look at each other all doe-eyed and begin planning a quick wedding, Fernand, Caderousse, and Danglars drown their collective sorrows over several bottles of wine at a nearby tavern. So how do they solve a problem like Dantes? Simple: they plan to set him up. They realise killing him is out of the question because Mercedes implies that if anything were to happen to Edmond, she would take her own life. Danglars forges a letter to the king’s attorney, telling of Edmond’s planned trip to Paris to deliver a letter on behalf of the usurped emperor. Fernand takes the letter and heads off to the capital, ready to accuse the young man of treason.

So we’re off to a flying start, and we’re only 28 pages in. Dumas wastes very little time in setting up his tale of adventure, betrayal, and revenge. We know Edmond is in for a boat-load of trouble, and we’re unable to warn him and Mercedes. The plot is afoot, and the next few chapters await us.