Where the Dark Stands Still by AB Poranek

If you're a fan of Slavic-style myths and legends flavouring your YA fantasy fiction, then Where the Dark Stands Still by AB Poranek is a book that I'll wholeheartedly recommend. In terms of themes, it recalls quite strongly Noami Novik's Uprooted, which I adored. I've seen folks compare it to Howl's Moving Castle, so yeah, I'll agree with that, but add that I got some serious Beauty and the Beast vibes, too.

We follow the story of Liska, who for reasons, finds herself in the service of the mysterious Leszy of the forest – a magical being who lives in his somewhat sentient mansion in the heart of the forest. This is a world that is vastly different from the village where she grew up, and I love stories like this where someone who, up until this point, had a *relatively* normal existence has their entire world view upended with magic and mystery. She might not be one of those kicka** heroines that we often encounter in fantasy, but her goodness of spirit and bravery make her relatable. Added to that are the support characters, who are all wonderful. I don't want to spoil – go meet them within the pages. And yes, I must warn you there is some tragedy and heartache, but it is oh so sweet. 

The story itself unspools slowly, with well-realised tension between Liska and the Leszy as they gain each other's measure. I know this might frustrate readers who prefer a much more fast-paced novel, but honestly, this was exactly what I needed at the time. Poranek effortlessly sculpts a highly detailed world, that feels tangible and engages the senses – and I really do love books that make me feel as if I'm present in the space. Authors who have this skill of description are treasures.

This is one of those books that when I do see it on a shelf at a bookstore, I point it out to friends and tell them they *need* to pick it up – so yeah, it's one of those. And I suspect it's one I'll enjoy revisiting again in the future.

God of Broken Things (Age of Tyranny #2) by Cameron Johnston

I am so late to the party on this one it's not even funny. This book has been sitting on my TBR pile for YEARS. God of Broken Things is the sequel to Cameron Johnston's Traitor God, in which we encounter the Tyrant magus Edrin Walker, who although much maligned by his fellow magic wielders, at the end of the day is the only one who possesses the power and the fortitude to scrape their collective posteriors out of the flaming frying pan. The reason why everyone hates a Tyrant is because their magical powers allow them to get inside others' heads, and no one is a fan of mind control, especially when the person with that power isn't a particularly nice individual. Which Edrin isn't. He's entirely self-serving and often snarky, with no regard whatsoever for social hierarchy, and this is magic combination that's never going to win him friends.

But for all his irreverence, he's not a bad sort, and all told is quite fun to hang around precisely because he doesn't give a toss about the things that matter in high society. His understated, often darkly absurd observations of the goings on around him are what made me keep on reading – if Edrin took himself too seriously, these novels wouldn't be half as entertaining. 

In God of Broken Things, we see our hero mucking about in the aftermath of the Big Bad that pretty much wrecked the city of Setharis in book one. Except he and the rest of the Arcanum (the mages who rule the city) face an even bigger bad that makes Edrin and his powers look like a minnow. And he's packed off back to the region where he grew up – to face not only the Even Bigger Bad, but also the things in his past he's been doing his darndest to avoid dealing with. I'm not going to spoil, but all I'll say is he has a really creepy gran. Oh, and did I mention that there was something that was even worse than the Even Bigger Bad? 

Of course he doesn't have to go it all alone – he has a few of his fellow magi from the Arcanum, including my favourite, Eva – a knight who in many ways is the perfect opposite of Edrin – and the interaction between the two is rather special. 

Now, Cameron doesn't do anything by half-measures. This is the second of his novels that I've read, and if epic, world-destroying cataclysms*, with a side order of demons, ravening hordes, and inter-dimensional beings blows your hair back, then you'll be in the right hands. The Age of Tyranny duology packs a whopper of a punch, with piles of action, cinematic battles, a rich, varied cast of characters, and some deeply fascinating world building while Cameron's at it. This is a fire cracker in the fine old tradition of GrimDark fantasy and well worth the read if you're looking for a story that will dance with all your favourite tropes but then pull a few sly ones when you're not looking. 

*If the old ultra-violence isn't quite your thing, then maybe skip this round, okay?

Art of War: Anthology for Charity, edited by Petros Triantafyllou

Every once in a while an anthology crops up that is an instabuy for me, and this is one of them, as I often feel that short fiction anthologies don't get enough love. And having edited a fair few myself, I know exactly how hard it is to get copies to fly off the shelf. Art of War: Anthology for Charity edited by Petros Triantafyllou offers fans of GrimDark fiction a veritable treasure trove of names, including such luminaries as John Gwynne, Mark Lawrence, Rob J. Hayes, RJ Barker, Ulff Lehmann, and a whole bunch of others in a selection of war-torn tales that vary between the darkly humorous to plain old dark, with plenty of ultraviolence and more. Nope, if you're squeamish, maybe this is not for you.

Like all anthologies, it's going to be a bit of a mixed bag, and I went into it knowing that not all the stories would be my jam. That being said, I am happy to report that on the whole, the stories hit the mark with me, and there were only a few that left me a bit meh. Even better, the anthology was put together for a good cause, with all proceeds going to MSF (Doctors Without Borders). So if ever there is even more motivation to egg you on to pick up a copy, there we have it.

War is ugly. War has also been overly romanticised in our media. When we read historical accounts of battles, we are often faced primarily with the dry opinions of historians who weren't there, or who focus on the doings of a few high-and-mighty general who didn't get blood on their hands ... or who took all the glory. Or even exaggerated the roles they played when it came to gaining victories. What I loved about the stories in this anthology, was that many of them focused on the human element, on those literally in the trenches. I did feel, however, that a more attentive proofreader might have caught the grammar goblins and gremlins, but the occasional dropped word or typo weren't deal-breakers for me, because on the whole, the quality of the writing more than made up for the occasional slip. But I feel I must mention the slips, for I saw a fair few of them.

I'm happy to recommend this collection of devious tales – and I'm not going to single out any of them because I prefer you to make up your own mind about what you like – to anyone who's looking for flights of dark fantasy that are, well, suitably grim, and occasionally with a slight glimmer of hope.

The Ancient Ones by Cassandra L Thompson

At face value, The Ancient Ones by Cassandra L Thompson blends all the elements that I love about the vampire genre – broad-sweeping historical ages, interesting characters, and intrigue, seasoned with a heavy dose of mythology. But alas, while the writing is generally engaging, this one failed to quite get off the ground for me.

We meet David, or Davius, depending on which era we see him in, who starts his life as the son of a Celtic druid who ends up sold into slavery by Roman conquerors. There, he loses both his life and his love, but also discovers his innate connection to the gods, which gift him with unimaginable powers. The story jumps between past and Victorian-era London, with a little detour to Romania, as David recounts his life to a lady of dubious repute he takes home with him, and who avidly listens to what he has to tell.

Thompson has certainly bitten off quite a lot with this book, and it's impossible to read it without drawing parallels with Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles – and perhaps Thompson's threading together of so many different myths is the story's downfall. There's just too much going on so that the story ends up disjointed and somewhat all over the place.

My main feeling was that the writing is often too fast, too shallow in places, with David not being grounded within any of the contexts of the eras in which he lives. A tale of this scope would be better served if the narrative was slower, measured, and with focus on characterisation, slowly unfolding intrigue, and a higher degree of historical accuracy, not to mention the moments where I struggled to suspend disbelief (yeah, yeah, I know, I can deal with suspending disbelief to have a story with blood-drinking immortals). There were, however, moments where I had to grit my teeth a little.

Thompson writes well, and does so from the heart, and her writing often delivers some beautifully descriptive lines, but I do feel that more attention could have been given to editing this novel at the developmental stage – especially where the writing is too fast to the point where it's slippery trying to unpick what's going on. It's not a bad little book, if historical fantasy featuring vampires, gods, and assorted supernatural entities is your jam, just that this could have been executed with a bit more finesse.

The Republic of Thieves (Gentleman Bastard #3) by Scott Lynch

Admittedly, when I first read The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch, I did so knowing that this was very much a Marmite book that elicited strong reactions in readers that sliced either way. It also took me a few chapters to get into Lynch's style, which veers away from the present convention for writing a tight first- or third-person to dwelling in a kind of limited-to-verging-on-omniscient style. But. Of course there's a but. Lynch does this so very well. And he won me over to the fate of Locke and Jean from the get go. 

You'll not find a slippier pair than these two friends who have a nasty habit of getting themselves caught up in cons that often go way over their heads. To the point where, with every instalment, I keep wondering how the heck Lynch's imagination gets so twisty. And not only that, but Lynch's style is right up there on the top shelf. The Republic of Thieves, which is book three in the Gentleman Bastard series, is an absolute cracker that I savoured over the space of a few months.

What I absolutely adored out of book three was that only only do we pick up on the basic cliff hanger left over from book two, which I won't spoil, but we see Locke and Jean given an 'out' from their predicament that may well cost them much more than they're prepared to pay. And Lynch's clever mind not only tells this story, of how Jean and Locke find themselves in the midst of helping throw a political election, pitted against someone who's rather a blast from the past (once again, no spoilers), but Lynch also nests an entire other novel within these pages, going back in time to how Locke, Jean, Sabetha, and all their fellow Bastards are sent off to strut the stage in a very Shakespearian manner in another city. What I enjoyed about this segueing into the past was that it offers a glimpse into Locke and Jean's formative years and their interactions with their old gang, which are an absolute joy to behold. 

Let me please just gush again about the exquisite poise, sly humour, and detailed world building in Lynch's prose. This is a book to be savoured. 

And I absolutely must quote my favourite line ever:

He had no chin to speak of, and long hair so ill-kept it looked as though a brown hawk had perched on the back of his head and clung there until it died.

This legit had me laughing so much I frightened the cat right off my lap.

Suffice to say, going into the depths of the story will spoil it for you, my gentle readers. If you've yet to encounter the misadventures of Locke and Jean, hie your bones to your nearest copy of The Lies of Locke Lamora, and take it from there. You're welcome. 

The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake

I'm almost immediately wary whenever a novel is touted as a 'must-read TikTok sensation with over 11 million views'. It's a clear indication that a hype machine in some shape or form has been working in overdrive. But, I was curious about The Atlas Six by Olivie Blake, and the subject matter itself appealed to me enough for me to make grabby fingers a while back when the opportunity to read the novel presented itself.

The premise is as follows: Six magicians are invited to compete for a place within a secret organisation known as The Alexandrian Society, where they will have access to centuries of hoarded knowledge. The only catch is that one of them will have to die.

I wanted to like this book, I really did, but as the story progressed, I felt as if the author was more concerned with the characters' cleverness than progressing a plot that feels as if it has enough momentum to carry me forward. We also see the story told from different points of view, which in itself is not such a bad thing, save that I felt that there was a lot of sameness to the characters' voices, so that for the first half of the book, while I was trying to get to know them, I struggled to tell them apart.

Small details, like the one character being South African, but none of his inner landscape even suggesting to me that he *was* actually South African, kinda annoyed me. In fact, I found most of the characters all quite bland and somewhat entitled. 

Sure, there was some interesting moral and philosophical talk that happened here and there, but for the most I felt that there was an awful lot of navel gazing, and I kept waiting for the exciting stuff to happen. Because, I mean, hello, magic. One sequence involving Parisa was quite thrilling and somewhat cleverly written, but for the most, not so much.

It's clear that Blake is a gifted writer, and there are moments where the prose shines, but I suspect the fault lies with me, the reader, for not glomping onto the text wholeheartedly. Evidently, The Atlas Six was thrilling for those thousands of other readers who are lauding this novel as a paragon of literary greatness. I'm not one of them.

King of the Hollow Dark by Cat Hellisen

Cat Hellisen does something in King of the Hollow Dark that I feel we don't see often enough in the fantasy genre – a recognisably modern secondary world setting. No princess in need of rescuing, jousting, or castles here. Okay, so there is a mysterious city that at some point crumbles into so much sand... And many other strange sights and occurrences besides. As any veteran who's read many of Cat's books will attest to. 

We meet Georgina, or George, as she prefers to be called, who lives with her dad in an apartment and is desperately trying to live an ordinary life. The reason for this arrangement is that her mum was responsible for a ghost uprising a few years before, and was hauled off and executed by the Empress, who is not exactly the kind of person you want to cross. 

George is anything but normal, as she soon learns, and despite her reluctance to get involved with any of the necromancy that was the grist to her mum's mill, she finds that things change after she's separated from her body and winds up in the afterlife with a slight case of being dead. Except things there are not quite what she expected, and she gets tangled up in a plot to overthrow the Empress, whose actions are slowly eroding the barriers between the world of the living and the dead so that the Hollow Dark is doing a The Neverending Story-esque Nothing. And nope, we can't have that.

King of the Hollow Dark reminds me a lot in tone and theme to Neil Gaiman's The Sandman – it has the same eerie, dream-like quality as the characters journey across one surreal landscape after the other, and often find themselves in precarious situations. George and her friends fight against great odds to return the worlds to their balance, but to do so will also require a great sacrifice – and despite her great reluctance, George finds herself in the position of linchpin for the entire debacle. Because if she doesn't do anything to stop it, the Hollow Dark will devour everything. 

At times surreal and mysterious, this story is, much like Cat's other writing, incredibly lush and populated with delightfully awkward characters who somehow manage to band together to deal with their bigger problems. And their problems are of the rather large, world-ending kind.

Godless Lands by Sean Crow

I was intrigued when author Sean Crow approached me to review Godless Lands, which boasts a premise that piqued my interest enough – a post-zombiepocalypse, secondary world fantasy novel. Which makes a change from contemporary zombie tales that draw heavily on the rather sprawling The Walking Dead franchise. So kudos to the author for pulling off something a little different.

At its heart, this is a story about hope rather than epic stuffed with derring-do and high-octane adventuring, as we follow the movements of a bunch of survivors: including a woman who's run away from a secure settlement to protect her young daughter; a scarred, blighted veteran who hasn't gone full zombie (much to everyone's consternation); and an equally scarred warrior who's trying to make a life for himself in a community that's eking out an existence in a world turned hostile to living things.

In this setting, the zombies are known as withers, and they're really the kind of thing you'd like to avoid on any day. The conflict is primarily between three human groups, who all have vastly different approaches on how to deal with their half-dead world. The community of Brightridge has high walls, and keeps the Godless Lands without; the Farm is made up of survivors who dream of reclaiming the Godless Lands while staying out of everyone else's clutches; and the Riven are a bloodthirsty pack of cannibals who worship the aptly named Hungry God. These are all different solutions to dealing with the awful reality in which humanity finds itself, and it's inevitable that some sort of showdown will take place – as the conflict in this book is presented.

Our heroes do their best to cling to decency in a decayed world, and the price they pay for their sovereignty is often the highest anyone would be willing to offer, in order to make their world a better place. Because when awful people turn even rotten, they become like the Butcher and his Hungry God – monsters any sane person would want to steer clear of.

Overall, this was a solid read. I did feel that the editing was a wee bit wonky in places, but the little gremlins weren't deal-breakers for what turned out to be an enjoyable, tension-filled survival tale. 

Children (The Ten Worlds #1) by Bjørn Larssen

I'm one of those readers who, the moment a book's cover catches her eye, and the content is vaguely aligned with her interests, she'll snap the book up. And I really, really wanted to like Children by Bjørn Larssen. His writing style is strong and unrestrained, and perhaps it's the latter part of this description where things fell a little flat for me. I can liken this novel best to a vine that's been allowed to grow beyond the trellis, so that the structure of the book felt somewhat all over the place.

The story is told from the alternating points of view of the human magic-wielder Maya, exiled from the home of her foster-mother Freya (yes, THE Freya), she's left serving a king whom she doesn't like one bit. For Reasons that are many and varied. Enter Magni, the natural son of the god Thor, who has, ahem, an axe to grind with his father. Because, Reasons. I'm not going to go into the depth and breadth of this sprawling story, but as the Norns will have it, the tricksy, shapeshifting Maya's and soft-hearted Magni's paths do cross, and their individual tales weave fluidly with a retelling of some of the classic Norse myths.

Children is an ambitious read, and for the most Larrsen executes things well. Maya is desperate for freedom, but her desire for this comes at a great cost – one that she's perhaps not quite prepared to pay. Magni's life is anything but easy, and in his naïveté, he jumps from one cringe-worthy situation to another. And perhaps that was one of my main reasons why I wasn't as enamoured with this story as many other readers were – I felt that at times Magni's lack of guile made him fall almost squarely into the TSTL* category. Neither character, in my not-so-humble opinion, did much growing so much suffering one terrible denouement after the other.

The pacing for the novel also felt uneven, to me, at least, and at times confusing. There were moments when the writing became too fast, too unstructured, but then again, YMMV – this is most certainly an ambitious telling, but I'm pretty certain it's also not going to be everyone's cup of tea, as there are scenes of emotional, physical, and substance abuse, in addition to manipulation and oodles of violence. Then again, I wouldn't expect anything less from the Norse pantheon. They can be a tricksy lot who don't particularly care for those they see as being less than them. My thoughts are that this novel could have used a more rigorous structural edit right at the get-go, but on the whole this is still a worthy read. If you're looking for a 'lower-deck' type story featuring minor personages from the old sagas, then this might well be right for you. In this case, I suspect, that the fault for not liking this book as much as others did falls squarely with the reader.

* Too Stupid To Live

Thief Mage Beggar Mage by Cat Hellisen

I've edited or seen early drafts of many of Cat Hellisen's novels and short stories, so it was an absolute treat to have a first look at one of their titles that I've *not* worked on, and it is one that I could simply concentrate on reading and enjoying. Thief Mage Beggar Mage is best described as a heady mix of magic, kinda-Asian-inspired fantasy, courtly shenanigans, betrayal, untenable love, and dragons. What's not to love? Okay, so I admit it, this book ticked all the boxes for me right from the start.

We follow the doings of Tet, who's crippled by a curse from the gods unless he can retrieve a magical artefact. In a world where your true name can be the deadliest currency, Tet's problem (apart from the dastardly divine curse that just gets worse by the day) is the fact that he doesn't know his true name. And as the story unfolds, Tet's quest becomes more and more complicated as he crosses paths with the mysterious Dohza, who is beguiling and enshrouded in mystery. Tet knows better than to fall for the one-armed mage, but as we get to know him, we realise that Tet is not exactly known for his good life choices. Especially when those life choices have him entangled in a plot to unseat The White Prince – a despot who rules the empire with an iron fist. 

I admit I'm a sucker for stories about the underdog who has lost everything, and somehow has to claw his way back out of the deep hole which, let's be honest, he dug for himself, and Tet fits that mould perfectly for me. He's pitiable, yet has a peculiar kind of magnetism about him that I appreciate. Forever an outsider, he has a unique perspective of the society in which he operates. 

Another hallmark of Cat's writing is that there are often echoes of well-known fairy-tales laced with queer themes immersed in their writing, and this story is no exception – Cat pays tribute to Hans Christian Andersen's The Tinderbox, complete with giant magical dogs and fabulous riches, and all the wonder you can ask for. And what I love even more about Tet is that he's most certainly *not* the hero of this tale. I'd describe him more as a catalyst or linchpin for greater events that unfold. No shining, magical swords here, but rather a battered lute and a begging bowl. Oh, yes, and that all-important whiff of dragons.

If you're in the mood for a lyrical, textured fantasy novel redolent with rich imagery and intrigue, then this will hit the mark. The conclusion was perfect, bringing equal measures of "Ah, yes" and "Oh, my heart." Have some tissues handy. Or maybe have a quiet place where you can go lie down once you finish the book.

Blood of Elves (Witcher #1) by Andrzej Sapkowski

Here I am, gamely trying to stay ahead of the Netflix TV series for The Witcher. I picked up a slightly battered copy of Blood of Elves by Andrzej Sapkowski at my favourite local secondhand bookstore, and it's taken me a while to get to reading it, but here we are. My feeling, as always, is that Sapkowski is a pantser. He writes the story as it unfolds in his head, with only the vaguest notion of where he's headed and where he's going to end a particular instalment.

If you're firmly team Geralt, then Blood of Elves is going to be a bit of a let-down for you, for this book very much focuses on the mother/daughter relationship that develops between Ciri and Yen. We also get to see a fair amount of Triss, who has it bad for Geralt, which he doesn't quite reciprocate because, well, Yen. And having read somewhere that season two of the TV series draws heavily from this book, I'm highly curious to see how the showrunner will spin out a cohesive, satisfying season. Because the book itself is basically a large chunk of prequel.

While the preceding titles in the series were very much vignettes, there's a touch more structure here as we get a taste of the bigger picture, which centres around racial tensions arising courtesy of the elves and others who feel disenfranchised by human encroachment. We also have the looming presence of the Nilfgaardian Empire that is stretching its long-fingered hands into territories not previously its own. And of course Ciri's growing powers that hint at a more terrifying danger that lies beyond all these mundane troubles.

No, I haven't played the games, and only a little of Witcher 3, so I'm blissfully unaware of all the other content. For now. But I can see stuff is brewing, and most of Blood of Elves is all about Ciri learning about her powers, training not only with the remaining witchers, but also with the mages, courtesy of Yennefer. We have hints around the edges where we catch glimpses of what Geralt is up to, and there are a number of parties who are far too interested in the girl – and between Jaskier, Triss, Yen, and Geralt, they go out of their way to keep her hidden from those parties. 

So, in terms of overall plot, not much happens in this book other than character development. What Sapkowski does well is his characterisation, especially in dialogue – with some truly pointed social commentary that I feel is all too relevant to contemporary culture, delivering observations about race and identity and resultant, related conflict.

Dead Acre by Rhett C Bruno and Jaime Castle

Every once in a while I like to mix things up a little and read something that's pulpy and fun. Or, in this case, should I rather say listen to. Dead Acre cropped up in my recommended titles courtesy of my Audible subscription, and because it was a quick read (and included), I gave it a spin.

I see in the blurb that they peg this story as a Witcher-meets-Dresden-Files and while I haven't read the latter, I do admit to being somewhat of a Geralt of Rivia kinda gal. So yep, if you're into a weird west setting chock full of monsters, then James Crowley's dry wit and wry outlook on his unlife as an immortal monster hunter – or Hand of God – may well scratch that itch.

Dead Acre doesn't offer me anything new that I haven't already seen in countless horror RPGs, films, and urban fantasy settings. Hells, it even has a bit of a noir edge to it, which I felt added some good flavour. There's even a sweet little reversal in terms of expectations relating to the Big Bad at the end. I'll admit, I didn't *quite* see that one coming. And while I didn't get my socks knocked off completely, I'll quite happily say that I was entertained, and that's what counts. 

A word on Roger Clark, who does the narration for Dead Acre. He has A VOICE on him. That alone makes this title a welcome addition to my collection.

Fire Within by Morten W Simonsen

Fire Within by Morten W Simonsen is a fantasy novel that at the start, I felt, had a lot going for it. We kick off with a prison break then immerses readers in a world on the brink of war with a non-human race. The story centres around two brothers who, through circumstances, are placed at odds with each other by a father who requires nothing but exact compliance – and it's brother Ivan who's drawn the shortest straw, cast out of his family, outlawed and reviled, who now seeks to tear it all down from the bottom up with his outlaw gang. We have Thedric, who lives in the shadows of his elder brothers, who feels he can never quite measure up, to the detriment of his own selfhood as he tries and fails to impress his father, the Lord Styles.

Then we also have Ani, who is in possession of the kind of secret that will see her a valuable pawn in the hands of men who desire power. Out of all the characters, I feel she was the most poorly developed – either the author purposefully drew her out to be hopelessly naïve on purpose, or he doesn't know the first thing about writing a female character in the first place. I know I'm coming out a bit harsh here, but honestly, as a woman who's an avid fantasy reader, this has got to be one of the most frustratingly annoying characters I've encountered in years. Either way, she was the one reason why I wanted to hurl my iPhone across the room out of sheer annoyance. Then, the Thing (I think you can figure out what I mean without me saying it) that happens to her near the end was, in my opinion, so hopelessly unnecessary and as a plot device felt wedged in and something along the lines of 'let's do a terrible thing to a woman for the sake of being grim.' I get that her character is 'special' but the way she is developed as a character in this first book is the reason why I'm downgrading the review to three stars and will in all likelihood not bother reading the rest of the books. 

This is clearly the first book of a series, and as such there's a lot of set-up with a bunch of threads left up in the air at its close. Simonsen's writing is adequate, but I do feel this work could have used a bit of spit and polish not only from structural edits, but a bit more of a thorough copy edit overall. I saw quirks that only a copy editor would notice, which jerked me out of the reading (and I do try to separate my reader brain from my editor brain, but in this case I was not as successful, evidently). If you're looking for action-packed, grimdark, then this story will most likely hit the right buttons, but its execution was in my not-so-humble opinion a bit rough around the edges and in need of deeper development.

Incursion (Catalyst Moon #1) by Lauren L Garcia

I'll start off by saying that Incursion, book 1 of Lauren L Garcia's Catalyst Moon series gave me serious Dragon Age vibes – so much so that I'm sooo tempted to wonder if this is an incredibly well-crafted fic that had its serial numbers filed off. And to tell you how much I loved this book, I immediately went out and purchased book two (which is a rare occurrence for me when I'm considering books for review).

In this world, magic users are reviled and locked up in bastions that are guarded by templ— Sorry, sentinels, who chug lyr haematite that boosts their powers to stop mages from acting out. Honestly, the similarities in the worlds did not bother me so much, because a) I'm a huge fan of Dragon Age and its tie-in fiction and fanfiction and b) Garcia's writing is lovely. 

We meet Kali, a mage, who is being transferred to another bastion so that she can have her bad knee looked at (not all mages are equal in their powers, and she's hoping that someone at the bastion will have a better grip on healing magic). Plus, her friend is there, and they haven't seen each other since forever.

Of course no plans go without a hitch, and her party is waylaid by demon-possessed barbarians who pretty much decimate their patrol, leaving only Kali to escape with the young sentinel Stonewall. And her magic has ways of its own that result in a wild escape that sets them practically on the other side of the map. Now they must journey back to the bastion, and learn to trust one another in an often hostile environment. 

Meanwhile a mage rebellion is brewing... Of course.

What I love about Garcia's writing is that she brings in the human element with all her characters – we see both mages' and sentinels' points of view, and it's easy to understand where both stand on the divide. All the while I was cheering on those who were able to build bridges rather, but by equal measure curse those too myopic to see the bigger picture – because Garcia lays plenty of seeds hinting at a bigger, brewing danger. If you're looking for a fantasy adventure that focuses on the human elements of magic vs. non-magic conflict, then give Incursion a shot. She has created a varied cast and I'm so curious to see how all the secondary characters' story arcs will pan out.

Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights (Dragon Age #6)

With so much time having elapsed since Dragon Age: Inquisition's release, and with lore-obsessed fans going into a frenzy every time BioWare drops even the slightest morsels hinting at developments in the next game (which at time of writing, they're developing), this anthology of tie-in fiction has come at the right time.

Now the thing with official tie-in fiction, and especially with a short story anthology, is that it's unavoidably always a bit hit and miss in terms of the quality of the content – and Tevinter Nights is no exception. While certain writers are master minds when it comes to structuring the storytelling aspects of a game, they're often not quite as deft in terms of writing fiction. And vice versa, of course.

Tevinter Nights offers an uneven reading experience, but that being said, there were some standout tales collected here. If you're a huge fan of Thedas, and are anxious to return to this world, then you will have plenty of treats here.

Patrick Weekes is known for much of the writing that they've done in Dragon Age: Inquisition, and they have also been carving out a respectable solo career as an author. Their "Three Trees to Midnight" kicks off the anthology in Tevinter, after the Qunari incursion that has resulted in the fall of Ventus. We follow the mage Myrion's point of view, who's been press-ganged into a work crew chopping tree. And he's in a bit of a pickle since the Qunari don't like mages much. To make matters worse, he's shackled to an elf – and the human/elf relations in Tevinter are not all that great. What I loved about this story is that we see a lot of banter between the two that reveals much about Tevinter society. Hijinks ensue when these two unlikely partners escape and must work as a team lest they be recaptured.

"Down Among the Dead Men" by Sylvia Feketekuty takes us to Nevarra with its culture of powerful necromancers, the Mortalitasi. Audric is but a simple guardsman with an unusual appreciation of architecture, and the last he expects is to be bitten by a possessed corpse and dragged head first into an adventure with the mage Myrna. And much to his horror, their quest sees them enter the labyrinthine Great Necropolis. I'm a bit of a sucker for a dungeon crawler, and while there is a bit of a reveal near the end that I didn't quite expect and made a lot of sense, I was quite fond of the dynamics between Audric and Myrna. Overall, this is a pleasing tale.

With a dash of a Lovecraftian flavour, John Epler's "The Horror of Hormak" brings us to two Grey Wardens on a search and rescue mission that sees them, surprise-surprise, enter the Deep Roads and encounter ... well ... Things. There were times when I felt the writing was a bit fast, but as far as typical Dragon Age quests go, this one was familiar turf. And ugh, I hate the Deep Roads.

For those anxious about the official world state post-Trespasser, "Callback" by Lukas Kristjanson offers a somewhat painful return to Skyhold when Sutherland and his friend are entrusted with the task of finding out what manner of evil now lurks in the abandoned fortress. Mired in nostalgia, this story will be fodder for the Solavellans among us to spark much debate. The story also suggests heavily that the official world states sees a disbanding of the Inquisition, with its key players no doubt going underground to face off against the threats offered by the Dread Wolf and the Qunari. I'd say "Callback" was stronger on lore than on style, but I still enjoyed the opportunity to revisit familiar turf.

"Luck in the Gardens" by Sylvia Feketekuty offers us a delightful, first-person point of view from a sassy Crow on an assignment in Minrathous. I loved the inner dialogue, and oh, the OPINIONS. Our Crow is also on the trail of an unusual beast that isn't going to be at all a cakewalk to take out. Oh, and fans of a certain Dorian Pavus need to perk their ears here. That little taste of my dearest friend was wonderful.

"Hunger" by Brianne Battye didn't number among my favourites. Two wardens are on a quest to save a village from marauding monsters. I felt the writing was a bit fast and uneven in places, so I didn't quite get into the story nor did I relate to the characters.

In "Murder by Death Mages" by Caitlyn Sullivan Kelly we return to Nevarra City with Inquisition agent Sidony on a mission for one Cassandra Pengeghast to end a Mortalitasi plot. Of course it's never quite as simple as that. Sidony has a particular disliking for the Machiavellian shenanigans rife in her home, and predictably finds herself caught up right in the midst of it all. I'll admit, not one of my favourite stories. I'd have liked a better immersion in Sidony.

Brianne Battye takes us back to Tevinter in "The Streets of Minrathous", where our protagonist, Neve, is untangling a lingering Venatori plot. We get a glimpse into Tevinter society and a bit of a noir-flavoured murder mystery. 

We're back with the Antivan Crows in "The Wigmaker Job", by Courtney Woords, where our dapper two crows enter the den of a Venatori with a penchant for wigs that will make your flesh crawl. If you ever want a reason to dislike certain aspects of Tevinter socity, you'll get plenty of that with this tale. It's fast-paced, has an edge of horror, and I quite liked the dynamics between Lucanis and Illario as they sow havoc in a way that only Crows can. I have a feeling that this story in particular has a few seeds that may grow into something in the next game. 

I can see what Lukas Kristjanson was trying to achieve with "Genitivi dies in the End" but the overall execution of this story was lacking. It felt rushed and not thoroughly planned out. It will, however, I suspect, provide Codex material for the next game.

"Herold had the Plan" by Ryan Cormier was another one of the stories that kinda just made me feel a bit 'eh'. There were some nice passages but overall, I found myself skipping pages. The writing felt shallow and rushed at times.

We stay with the Crows in "An Old Crow's Old Tricks" by Arone le Bray, which I felt was more a taster for us to get a better idea of the role Crows play. Lots of murder here, and it reads like a filler piece meant for world building.

"Eight Little Talons" by Courtney Woods is a delight whodunnit. Eight Crow Talons spend the weekend on an island. What could possibly go wrong? I suspect here quite a few morsels for Codex entries was dropped. This was by far one of my favourite stories in the anthology. Woods has a sharp eye for characterisation.

In John Epler's "Half Up Front" a former Altus and her elven partner embark on a mission that pays rather too well. Not suspicious at all, right? A spot of breaking and entering becomes a lot more complicated than expected. The story has a promising start but once again, unravels slightly at the end – characterisation and layering being the aspects that fell flat for me. Yet this is a story that also points Codex entries galore for the next game. 

Patrick Weekes closes off things with "The Dread Wolf Take You", from Charter's point of view as she attends a meeting with fellow agents, which gave me many Feelings and Thoughts. I will give no spoilers. The central theme isn't difficult to guess, and this is perhaps the story that will give a tantalising glimpse into the larger world issues we'll be seeing in Dragon Age 4 – escalated conflict between Tevinter and the Qun, with factions within the Qun also causing trouble. Not to mention the fact that an ancient elven god wants to destroy the Veil and the world as we know it.

Let me add that Weekes is a master storyteller, and I'll most certainly be hunting down their writing after this.

Tevinter Nights is very much for the lore-hungry fans. While the writing quality is uneven across the anthology, it nonetheless scratched that itch I'm feeling for new Dragon Age content, especially considering that Inquisition came out in 2014, and I think it's doubtful that apart from the comic books and a few fiction offerings, we haven't seen much else since. Now excuse me while I got pore over "May the Dread Wolf Take You" again.

The Sandman (Sandman Audible Original #1) by Neil Gaiman and adapted by Dirk Maggs

A friend of mine back in varsity days introduced me to Neil Gaiman's The Sandman comics by Neil Gaiman, and ever since then I've aimed to tell stories that echo some of the resonance I've felt since reading the comics. And I have always been nervous about possible adaptions of this incredible comic book series. Especially given the track record of so many other adaptions I've seen that didn't quite do justice to the source material.

It's also bloody difficult to explain what The Sandman is in brief, because it exists as such a glorious mashup of history, myth and comic book legacy. I'd like to say that it is a story about stories, especially where all the stories we've ever told or have dreamt, intersect in a weird liminal state with history and possible futures. And every time I've dipped into The Sandman, depending on where I'm at in my life, I've had very different takeaways.

At a glance, this is a story about Dream, or Morpheus, the lord of the dream realm, who has been captured by magicians who have rashly endeavoured to capture Death. Sundered from his powers for seventy years, he has to reclaim his tools and, eventually his purpose. He is not alone, however. He is an anthropomorphic representation of the Seven Endless: Death, Dream, Desire, Destruction, Delirium, Destiny and Despair. They are more than gods, and they rule and to a degree ruled by all things. 

I've always felt that American Gods was a pale echo of the excellence Gaiman attained in The Sandman, so if you've seen or read the former, then The Sandman will provide a far richer, darker and intoxicating experience. And I wondered how on earth anyone would be able to adapt the series of comics into an audio format. But credit is giving to Dirk Maggs. He's done good. Really good with Gaiman's work. 

It was an incredible experience to have familiar stories brought to life in a vivid soundscape. I also cried ugly tears not once, but twice, while listening. Which is quite something considering that all the material is familiar to me. Interestingly enough, I spoke to someone who hadn't read the comic books first, and she admitted that she found The Sandman quite dark, and a bit scary, which I suppose it is. So if horror elements aren't quite your jam, be warned, there's some by the ladles full.

And a word on actors James McAvoy and Kat Dennings, who play Dream and Death respectively – they had a wonderful chemistry, especially in "The Sound of her Wings" which has always been one of my favourite sequences in the comics. 

I could probably gush on endlessly about this production. As a long-time fan of everything Neil Gaiman, this is honestly one of the highlights of my reading/listening career. Don't miss this one.

PS, I'm cautiously optimistic that the TV series is going to be peachy keen. And not just because Gaiman is deeply involved in it. Maggs has done an outstanding job with the radio play, showing how it can be done.

PPS, I won't complain if James McAvoy is cast as Dream for the TV series.

A Conjuring of Light (Shades of Magic #3) by VE Schwab

I'm glad that I've been able to dip into VE Schwab's Shades of Magic trilogy. It has all the elements I love, including princes, thieves, pirates and courtly intrigue, all tied together with a well-realised magical system. Her writing offers just enough description to let your imagination fill in the rest to create a vivid world populated with fascinating characters.

In hindsight, I feel that book 2 and 3 are basically one book that's been split in two, with book 1 of the trilogy giving us a prequel of sorts. But what Schwab does well is tie up all her loose ends while leaving just a hint where this world might be revisited in the future. (And I have many Thoughts on that.)

While parts of A Conjuring of Light felt a bit left of field (a fetch quest in the middle of the story), Schwab nonetheless delivers a tale that's engaging and filled with lore at every turn. We get to see a bit more of the world, other than just the various Londons.

Rhy really has an opportunity to shine in book 3, which is both beautiful and filled with much sadness as he plays a more prominent role, and a redemption arc that develops is ultimately quite satisfying. The dynamic between Kell and Lila is intense yet prickly as always, with Alucard and Holland offering a solid counterbalance. The situation between characters is often fraught with tension, which makes for some entertaining scenes.

I don't really have that much more to say, other than this being a satisfying read that hit nearly all the right notes. Considering that I was looking for something that has a whiff of Gaiman's The Sandman, this was a good match.

Sword of Destiny by Andrzej Sapkowski

Continuing the short stories that spawned The Witcher phenomenon created by Andrzej Sapkowski, Sword of Destiny is the second book to pick up if you're looking to read everything chronologically. Or so I've been told. There's not a whole lot more that I can say about this collection of short stories, save that they continue to flesh out the setting and give background to the characters.

Geralt of Rivia might be considered a heartless monster hunter, but behind the imposing façade lies an individual who cares deeply. Discussions of destiny follow through as a theme, with Geralt wrestling with his responsibility towards Ciri, and how their paths keep crossing. If you've watched the first season of the series on Netflix, you'll recognise some of the story arcs, though the series does play loose and fast with the source material.

I found particularly poignant the way Geralt and Yennefer damage each other so much – and Geralt very much cares for her, even if she pushes him away. The biggest issue that I can say is that what they value in life differs vastly. We also get glimpses into Geralt's past, and have hints as to why he got started on his path as a witcher in the first place. 

As always, I feel that much is lost in translation – some of the phrasing and idiomatic expressions are clunky, but I have sufficient love for the setting to continue reading.

The Black Company (The Chronicles of the Black Company #1) by Glen Cook

I kept hearing about The Black Company by Glen Cook, so when the opportunity presented itself, I grabbed book 1. From what I understand, it's considered a classic, and in fact one of the earliest examples that sparked off the whole GrimDark genre.

Told from the perspective of a mercenary company medic, Croaker, we see the machinations between apparent forces of light and dark play out on the stage of a series of ever-escalating battles. This is military fantasy, plain and simple, so if descriptions of tactics, death and dying, bore you silly, this is not the novel you are looking for.

What I appreciated about The Black Company is that all the characters are morally ambiguous, and we have a big story told from the perspective of someone who's on the lower decks, who is not a big decision maker or player, but nonetheless ends up playing a pivotal part.

Croaker is self aware enough to know he's not in the service of the 'good guys'. In fact, as he picks apart the entire sorry mess of the Lady vs. the Rebel, he comes to realise that everyone has blood on their hands. He's all too aware of his frailty, and stands in awe of the magics at play as the Lady turns her closest servants into undead "Taken", much as Sauron has his Nazgûl. He's caught in the centre, the storyteller trying to make sense of it all, and watching how a prophecy slowly unfolds, and what its ultimate repercussions will be. In fact, there's an element of existentialism in this tale, as Croaker himself philosophises about the ultimate absurdity of it all.

Cook's writing makes you work, and reads like a relatively shallow musing that doesn't dig deeper into motivations, but hurries along and leaves you in the dust if you don't try make connections. So I can see why he's not for everyone. I enjoyed the camaraderie between the characters, the things not spoken of, and that there was a gradually unfolding saga against which Croaker's small part played out. I also liked the idea that things weren't explained to me, so that I had to draw my own conclusions from this morally grey story. Our main character is unashamed by the fact that he takes his pay, does his job, and reserves his opinion for his own private moments. As for whether this makes him good or bad, it depends on which side of his bow you stand.

On collaboration, and writing in mammoths – with Toby Bennett

Toby and I didn't quite have our book launch in Cape Town like we planned, due to The Thing I Don't Really Want to Mention, and neither of us were up to setting up webinar or something equally sophisticated. So we had a chat via Google Docs, in which we discuss how we've been collaborating on our new novel together. 

Nerine Dorman: Wow, so I believe the world wasn’t quite ready for us this year, was it, eh? Just when things were starting to get interesting, we end up in virtual house arrest. But silver linings, eh? We finished writing a novel together. And in about six months as well.

Toby Bennett: The world has never been ready, and when the device is finally finished they shall all quake before… oh… oh right, you’re talking about the book… Yes, the one solace I have is that I am able to use this time in lock down to polish The Serpent’s Quest… Before turning it over to your red pen for a final pruning – it may have bloomed a bit during my audio review, but I am having a whale of a time which is preferable to wailing all the time I suppose…

So yeah book one all but in the bag and two more to go – the dreaded obligation of a trilogy – still it is nice to be able to share the responsibility with someone… A bit like having a gym partner to spot you I guess. Yes we can have war mammoths AND terror birds! Feel that burn!

ND: Creating this world together feels almost like having part of the benefits of running a roleplaying game without having to roll any dice. To a large degree I think what’s helped us with this story is that we were able to merge our crazy ideas seamlessly. I mean, the novel sounds kinda crazy when summed up as 'ancient Egyptian elves meet Vikings on horseback with a side order of ancient Chthonic beings'.

Despite the initial plans, the writing didn’t quite pan out quite the way I expected, and it’s different with every writing partnership I’ve encountered. Back when I wrote with Carrie Clevenger, we used to swap chapter points of view. And what we’ve got going here is closer to what I know that Alex Latimer and Diane Awerbuck have when they wrote South and i as Frank Owen.

You and I have worked closely on laying down the foundations, but you’ve been an absolute machine knocking out the words while I’ve kinda gone in afterwards pruning, snipping, adding a bit here and there, writing a few key scenes. In a way I feel kinda guilty, but we’ve each played to our strengths in this – so it’s a win-win.

TB: Well that’s the thing, no writer is flawless at every aspect of the craft, and it’s very easy to get bogged down in a single perspective. Collaboration frees us from an individual viewpoint and allows us to offer an amalgamation of the very best each of us has to offer. Though on a side note this does require the skill of unfettering one's ego and asking “what would be best for the story?” It’s not something I would ever recommend any writer do until they are relatively comfortable with their own voice and have developed enough professional objectivity to let go while still caring.

Of course when there is synergy one can never be sure if it is a question of great minds think alike or fools never differ but there has to be a shared vision and an understanding that the work is paramount. Which I think we’ve managed.

For all the potential pitfalls, collaboration is a rare treat. I’ve done it twice now and found it to be professionally and personally rewarding. Writing is often a solitary activity and I think that writing with someone is as close as we come to the enjoyment of musicians jamming together. There’s a bit of extra effort in being mindful of the other person, but the joy of being able to share the process is thoroughly exhilarating. You often find yourself going to some unexpected places and stretching further than you might have on your own.

ND: What I’ve appreciated this far is having someone else to bounce ideas off of – someone who’s as invested in the story as I am. There are moments when I’m writing solo that I encounter tangles that often take weeks if not months to figure out, like how I hit a brick wall with my novel The Company of Birds. My editor at the time could tell me that something wasn’t working, but it wasn’t her place to tell me what I had to do to fix it.

A friend of mine who was co-writing a novel with her daughter would often go on long walks with her, and by the time they got home, would have hashed out the sticky plot points that had been bugging them. Likewise, how our video calls end up spawning mammoths and weird curve balls that I’d never have considered.

It’s like a game of tag, with each writer picking up where the other left off and running with the idea until it blooms monstrous fruit. But as you point out, it’s also about being mindful, and knowing when to step back or step in.

One of the big concerns that I do think a lot of authors have is unevenness in tone, especially if each writer has a particular style. I’d say that you and I are not that vastly different from each other. I also feel that you have a particular knack of looking into a scene and digging just that little bit deeper in terms of motivations, as well as the to-ing and fro-ing of dialogue.

TB: You are far too kind, but I’m a writer so I will take ANY validation! Tone is certainly an issue, but one that I think can be resolved by having each writer review the work. Right now, I am doing an audio read through The Serpent’s Quest and you’d be amazed how many things I am catching – little inconsistencies in tone and story from both of us that seem more stark now that the first book is real and the shape of things better set (We recently started focusing on the northern continent of our world and those changes are having little effect on details in The Serpent’s Quest).

Once I have finished the audio review you’ll get the chance to go through it, which means the tone and language in each scene should be nicely sanded down so no one can see the seams…

I don’t think I can overstate the usefulness of having another brain helping you spark on a story. The big bad in book two got a whole lot nastier and more credible to me when you mentioned a parallel with Alexander the Great – I’d always know there was a schism between our main character, Kelbrin, and his traitorous protege, Dugan, but I suddenly saw how the cracks in their relationship might have developed as Dugan took on the ways of the Abrassian necromancers that Kelbrin had helped him overthrow (many Greeks murmured that Alexander was changed after his conquest of Persia).

It’s the little details that fill out a story and add richness – so two heads really are better than one. I guess what anyone contemplating this kind of project would be interested in is process. The first and most obvious requirement is good communication (stay in touch and share those documents!). I’m typically more comfortable with letting a story unravel as it occurs to me, but in this case the work requires us to be quite specific about where the story will go.

With collaboration one needs a well established framework, preferably with set scenes and events that can be assigned to each writer. Naturally nothing is carved in stone, and the narrative can evolve, but I’d say it’s worth taking the time to get the scaffolding in place.

As I mentioned, new details are already coming up as book two starts to solidify, but we basically know the entire arc of our story and have mapped out the big events already. I’m thinking that will pay off and let us work together better. Know who handles what, and of course the double review process allows each of us to shape every scene to the shared vision we laid out. Oh, also, in case anyone doesn’t know this one, always have a shared map and glossary for reference.

ND: Having that bigger-picture view most certainly helps. I don’t know why the Alexander the Great thing only occurred to me much later. So many villains are hampered by the ‘let’s be evil for evil’s sake’ so I feel it’s absolutely vital that we give Dugan sufficient motivation for doing what it is he’s doing. If we look at all the great empires of the past, in many cases each emperor had their motivations.

For some it was simply a need to expand borders to reclaim previously lost territory – an act within itself that can lead to further expansion once the machinery goes into action. In other cases, for instance the Scramble for Africa, we can see it as a sort of arms race and a quest for raw materials. For instance, the British Empire annexing the Cape Colony from the Dutch to also keep it out of the hands of the French. Dugan starts out, I believe, with the earnest desire to rid his world of the corruption posed by a powerful, corrupt city-state, but good intentions are not necessary enough to keep one from being corrupted in turn.

As authors, we can take lessons from historical events. In terms of collaborating, I’m really appreciating the fact that we can hammer out these details together. It also helps that as individuals, we share a lot of common ground in terms of our personal philosophical world views – so we riff off each other quite a bit. And the best part is that now when I dive in for formal edits, so much of the structural work has been done. We’re playing off of each other’s strengths, which I think will give us a massive advantage by the time we start querying.

TB: Ah, querying, when we find out if the gatekeepers see what we see… joy! Win or lose at that particular game I’m proud of the work we’re doing. I’m not sure what the literary world is going to look like post Covid-19. It wasn’t exactly going gangbusters to start with, but I think that just about the most exciting thing that any of us can do is share our dreams – it’s the reason any writer puts ink on paper (or pixel on screen). Surely the natural progression of that need to reach others must be mingling visions with someone who can dream with you.

I don’t mean to wax too poetic, but there are times when I think the ivory walls of the skull may be the true prison for all of us, the impulses we get from the outside, the only antidote to crippling solipsism… but that may just be a moth of lockdown talking. In either case I look forward to continuing Hetephes and Kelbrin’s journey and I hope that others are keen to come along for the ride. I mean come on, war, betrayal, intrigue and mad gods who wouldn’t want to be a part of that?

Certainly it’s a good idea for anyone who wants to take the plunge with us to take a deep breath now because I have every intention of letting up till we reach a gasping, bloody conclusion! WAR MAMMOTHS, HO!

ND: Don’t forget the dragons.

* * *

Pick up Toby Bennett’s fantasy novel The Music Box, or Nerine Dorman’s science fiction novel Sing down the Stars.