Review of The Shadow of the Soul – Book 2 of the Dog-Faced Gods by Sarah Pinborough

Sarah Pinborough is one of the stars of Fantasycon – a bubbly character with sufficient personal charisma to stop the traffic, something that most authors don’t possess. I’d known that she wrote Horror/Dark Fantasy, so when I came across this offering I plucked it off the shelves.

As the world sinks deeper into recession, London is rocked by a major terrorist attack that cripples the city. Detective Inspector Cass Jones is busy investigating a series of apparently linked student suicides when Special Branch calls on him to help in their search for a very unusual suspect. As if that isn’t enough, Cass is given a message from beyond the grave. With three words – ‘They took Luke’ – written by his brother before he was brutally murdered, Cass Jones once again feels the world tilt beneath him. He knows who ‘They’ are – Mr Bright and the shadowy Network – and he knows that his dead brother has given him the task of finding the baby, his nephew, stolen at birth.  As Cass tries to divide his time between his two legitimate investigations and his private one, it’s not long before he discovers links where none should be…

This book plunged right into the action and didn’t let up until the final page, and though at no time was I floundering – Pinborough is far too accomplished a writer for that – I did get the sense that I would have better appreciated exactly what was going on if I’d tracked down the first book, A Matter of Blood, before launching into The Shadow of the Soul. However, it didn’t take long to get drawn into this gritty police procedural tale that felt far more like a Rankin whodunit than your average Dark Fantasy crime story. Cass Jones is a typically overburdened inner-city detective with a dysfunctional family life, rather than the supernatural, angst-driven beings that often inhabit urban fantasy crime novels.

Pinborough has successfully managed to come up with a flavour all of her own in this increasingly popular sub-genre. Second books in a trilogy often lack pace as they simultaneously have to produce a complete story arc, yet leave/produce a series of vital plot points dangling for the final book to solve. But this story whisks along as we get increasing insights into the Network and the strains within the apparently invulnerable organisation, as Cass Jones is still desperately trying to come to terms with what has happened to him and his family during the previous book. All these concerns are woven through the current investigations with deftness and skill that ensure this is a solid page-turner.

So, does the denouement pack sufficient punch? It needs to – Crime/Dark Fantasy genres require a strong ending to be regarded as successful and as Pinborough has braided these ingredients together, she has to pull off a really gripping conclusion that provides genuine shock value. Which she achieves with style. As Cass struggles to cope with the new set of facts he uncovers after investigating the events that have befallen his troubled family – the crimes he has also been following also get tied up in a way that I didn’t see coming.

This second book has been sufficiently gripping that I’m going to hunt down the first and third offerings in this disturbing, compulsive series – and I recommend that you give it a go. But start with A Matter of Blood – writing this good deserves to be read in the correct order.
9/10

Review of Film – Woman in Black

I’m a fan of the original book by Susan Hill and the successful West End play based on the book, so was a tad reluctant to go along and watch this film. Our experience wasn’t helped by the ‘Potter’ element in the packed cinema, who screeched at every set-piece scary moment. So… the main questions regarding this film have to be – did Daniel Radcliffe pull off his first major adult role since Harry Potter and did Jane Goldsmith’s screenplay measure up to the very high standards set by both the book and play?

Radcliffe plays young lawyer, Arthur Kipps, still reeling after the death of his wife in childbirth some three years earlier. He is sent off to the depths of Norfolk to Eel House by his grumpy senior partner, with the injunction to sort through the mass of paperwork left by deceased reclusive widow Alice Drablow – with the instruction that if he doesn’t do a thorough job, he needn’t bother returning. Radcliffe’s pale-faced expressions of suffering and terror certainly ticked the box. It wasn’t a part that demanded much else – and his particular skill-set absolutely delivered what was required. Could he have done more? Not as far as I’m concerned. The major sin in this part would have been to overact – and Radcliffe’s pared, mature performance meant that at no time did the mass of over-excited teenage girls burst into laughter.

This version is set in Edwardian times and Radcliffe is well supported by Ciarán Hinds, who plays the local landowner – the only person in this inbred, grimy part of Norfolk prepared to be friendly to the London lawyer. Director James Watkins has fully exploited the gothic creepiness pervading the play, right up to the limit. There are tension-filled shots of macabre-looking toys, smeared windows and dusty corners of this neglected house – interspersed with genuinely frightening glimpses of an emaciated female. The effect is heightened by the fact that we never get more than a fleeting glance. Amid the gloom and cobwebs, the story steadily unfolds until we arrive at the sudden twist ending.

Goldsmith chose to completely depart from the play’s grimly effective climax, and while I was up to that point, quite happy to go along with the genuinely menacing atmosphere that Watkins had crafted, as the end credits rolled, I felt that the last few minutes were a real letdown. A shame – especially for those of us who have seen the play. I’m still trying to work out why a writer of Goldsmith’s calibre chose such a lame option for the finale, but it certainly knocked a couple of points off my final score as it spoilt what was mostly, an enjoyably creepy film.
7/10

Review of EBOOK Eternal Aftermath by Mike Griffiths

I read the Kindle edition of this book, as it was quicker and cheaper than waiting for the printed edition to plop through the letterbox – and this, after all, is what I bought my Kindle for in the first place…

Devon has made a huge mistake by leaving the side of his wife and the safety of the compound on a gamble that the plague of undead has run its course. On his own, with thousands of Tucson’s restless dead tracking his every move, is there any way he can hope to survive? He might have a chance with the undead, but his real enemy could end up being his fellow survivors. If Devon isn’t careful, he may find out that there are worse things than death, and those who have already perished were the lucky ones.

This is one of the latest offerings in the slew of zombie books avalanching onto our book shelves – a sub-genre of the horror market whose popularity shows no sign of abating. Griffiths’ first book was a modern take on Lovecraftian horror with his hero, Jack Primus hitting the road in an effort to overcome the terrors dogging him. Eternal Aftermath has a far more claustrophobic feel, as five years after the zombie-producing plague that enveloped the globe, the remains of the human race are reduced to living in armed encampments. And when Devon finds himself battling – in every sense of the word – to survive, he has to find his own hiding place.

Energy crackles off the pages – a hallmark of Griffiths’ writing – and the plotting and narrative tension is also very polished. In between the action scenes, we get a chance to really get to know Devon as more than just an effective killing machine with a justifiable chip on his shoulder – which is so often the staple of these books. As a result, I really cared about him and his companions and found myself unwilling to put down the Kindle, but read on into the small hours to find out what would happen next.

This isn’t my favourite genre by a long country mile. Partly because I’m rather squeamish, and partly because it is characters that always draw me into a story and often action horror tales don’t spend much time on character development. In amongst all the mayhem, Griffiths manages to flesh out Devon, warts and all. I found it satisfyingly realistic that he was strongly tempted to shoot his wife when given the opportunity, for example. And those lulls in the action scenes also provides plenty of gathering tension, backlighting the fight scenes with greater emotional investment.

The scene setting is excellent, and clearly one of Griffths’ strengths. It is particularly crucial in this book that he manages to clearly portray the various backdrops to the action and at no time did I find myself floundering or backtracking to work out exactly where I was while it was all kicking off. Which is something I regularly have to do during action scenes, partly because my spatial awareness isn’t that wonderful – and partly because authors often tend to skim over the where and when as fists and bullets start flying. Not so, in Eternal Aftermath.

Any niggles? Well, there were a few typos and the left-hand margin keeps indenting in an annoying way that I’m more used to seeing in self-published novels – and given that I wasn’t paying a rock bottom price for this book, I think the formatting issues should be addressed by Living Dead Press sooner rather than later. However – unlike a lot of self-published books – these glitches weren’t on the scale that significantly intruded, but this would have had a 9 if it hadn’t been for those – the writing certainly merits it.
Griffiths satisfactorily ties up the plot, but leaves the possibility open for a sequel, which I very much hope he will soon start writing. I want to know more about how Devon and his little band of followers are going to cope – and whether he can keep true to his ideals in this grisly Aftermath…
8/10

Review of Sow and You Shall Reap by B.P. Smythe

Horror isn’t my favourite genre as I’m prone to nightmares – and the very effective and grisly cover did nothing to alleviate my initial concerns. However, the author assured me that it wasn’t gratuitously violent, so I took a deep breath and dived in. He was right – and I found this an enjoyable, engrossing tale with plenty happening.

All is not well at Gossmoor Park Care Home. Too many residents are dying and Matron Elizabeth Waverly, along with her lover, Norman, who works as a nurse, have a brutal grip on the frail people in their care. Some of the other staff are growing increasingly concerned – but who will stand up to the menacing couple?
And that – or something similar – is what should be on the back cover. Instead, the two short paragraphs contain enough spoilers that give away a good third of the plot – so my first piece of advice is do NOT read the back. Fortunately, as I’ve read far too many blurting blurbs I skipped it till the end, but I have to say I think this example is one of the worst – which is a real shame. Because one of Smythe’s strengths as a writer is his ability to weave a convincing plot with plenty of pace – along with some twists I didn’t see coming, but are posted all too clearly on the back of the book.

Smythe’s evil protagonists are a product of their own miserable, abusive childhoods and he manages to make us aware of their vulnerabilities, so that although we may not like them we do understand what drives them. The uncertain start rapidly picks up pace and confidence as we learn about Norman’s childhood. While this is definitely a horror tale with a steadily growing body count, there are flashes of humour that at times approach farce, particularly near the end of the book during the Halloween celebrations. Smythe is an entertaining writer with an inbuilt sense of when to pick up the pace and when he needs to slow it down. In a book where events – along with the body count – start accelerating, it would have been all too easy to lose control of the plotline and characters. But Smythe kept firm control of his wicked protagonists, which had me turning the pages wondering what could possibly happen next.

That said, I would recommend that Smythe gets a good editor for his next book. There are some places where the writing is a bit uneven and there are too many typos – complement instead of compliment, for instance, and a scattering of oddly placed question marks. On the plus side, the book is well produced to a high quality and as I’ve mentioned, the cover is outstanding.

But, once a train of events is unleashed in this genre and starts gathering momentum, the biggie has to be – does the ending pack a sufficient punch to make the investment of time and effort in reading the book worth it? Apart from being rather too squeamish, this is one of the reasons why this isn’t my favourite genre – too many times all the tension and fear fizzles out… Or turns into something so preposterously grotesque, there is no sense of horror left. To be genuinely chilling, there has to be a sense of everyday as the action descends into ever greater chaos – something that Smythe has understood. The ending was completely satisfying, while leaving the reader slightly off balance. This interesting debut novel definitely marks Smythe as one to watch.
7/10

Review of Dead Reckoning – Book 11 of the Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris

So… with the TV adaptation of this series by HBO acclaimed by both critics and fans and as yet another volume hits the bookshelves, the question has to be – has Harris managed to give us yet another slice of Sookie magic? Is she able to still deliver the freshness and appeal of our favourite cocktail waitress after she’s been through more scary adventures than you’d want in a lifetime?

Sookie Stackhouse is a cocktail waitress in Bon Temps, Louisiana. It’s a job that has its own challenges, but now the vampires and the shapeshifters are finally ‘out’, you’d think the supernaturals would get on with each other. But nothing is that simple in Bon Temps! …and Sookie has a knack for being in trouble’s way; not least when she witnesses the firebombing of Merlotte’s, the bar where she works. Since Sam Merlotte is known to be two-natured, suspicion immediately falls on the anti-shifters in the area. Sookie suspects otherwise, but before she can investigate something else – something even more dangerous comes up.

Sookie’s lover, Eric Northman and his ‘child’ Pam are plotting something in secret. Whatever it is, they seem determined to keep Sookie out of it, almost as determined as Sookie is to find out what is going on. She can’t sit on the sidelines when both her work and her love life are under threat – but as their plans gradually become clear, Sookie finds the situation is deadlier than she could ever have imagined.

And there you have it. As you’ll have gathered from the blurb, Harris is still capable of delivering a plot full of narrative tension and adventure as Sookie is plunged once more into the heart of vampire politics. As the plot drew me in and once more whisked me off into Bon Temps alongside Sookie, I was once more filled with admiration at how adroitly Harris avoids pitfalls other less able writers nosedive into. For starters, Harris doesn’t assume that everyone who picks up Dead Reckoning has read any or all of the previous books in the series. There is the odd explanatory sentence slipped in as to who all the characters are and a quick mention of a previous incident – also very handy for the more forgetful of her fans. And – even more importantly – Harris ensures right at the start of the book, there is a scene featuring Sookie in trouble to bond her with the readers, either for the first time or reintroduce her to those of us who have read one or three other books since the last time we lost ourselves in a Sookie adventure… It’s a neat trick. One I wish other multi-book authors would use more often (Jim Butcher, John Scalzi, C.J. Cherryh and Lois McMaster Bujold are among the honourable exceptions who also successfully employ this strategy). It’s exasperating to wade through a sequel with a boring protagonist I really cared about in the first book, because the author hasn’t made the effort to establish that main character with the readership, again.

I’ve always enjoyed Sookie’s character and the bone-dry humour threading through the books – and this book continues to deliver, as we see her on one hand wandering around with a handbag full of stakes while planning a baby shower for her friend, Tara. I enjoy the tension between all the supernatural happenings and Sookie’s efforts to keep on top of the housework and going to work. No one else manages to weave the mundane and weird together so well, heightening one with the everyday contrast and sharpening our sympathy with someone who also struggles to keep her house clean and tidy…

I was slightly startled to register that I plucked this book off the shelf marked ‘Horror’. Of course it is a judgement call – one person’s urban fantasy is another person’s horror, but I do worry whether the steamy, blood-soaked depiction of Bon Temps by the folks at HBO are skewing expectations of this delightful series. Yes, Sookie’s sexual encounters are described, but Harris isn’t anything like as graphic as many other writers in the sub-genre – and certainly doesn’t go in for a blow-by-blow account of the naked writhings HBO insists on showing us. While I do think that HBO have absolutely nailed the sense of the world and have managed to get Sookie, Bill, Eric and Pam physically very close to Harris’s creations, a lot of the humour that leavens the horror is missing.

While I’ll continue to tune into True Blood, I still feel that the TV series is lacking some of the best elements of the books. This is one of a handful of worlds I happily reread, and the latest offering, Dead Reckoning, still delivers Sookie with all her vivid Southern charm.

10/10

Review of The Fuller Memorandum – Book 3 of The Laundry series by Charles Stross

This account is narrated as a debrief by the longsuffering Bob Howard, who works for the undercover British agency known as The Laundry. They are a down-at-heel, typically Brit-bodge version of the Men in Black, busy battling with nasty occult occurrences and alien incursions. Bob is trying to come to terms with the emotional fallout after his latest hair-raising adventure.

A top secret dossier goes missing. At the same time, Angleton, Bob’s boss disappears. No one is saying very much at The Laundry but suspicion, like mud, sticks. While struggling to clear his own name and Angleton’s tarnished reputation, Bob also has to cope with over-helpful Russian agents, worries about an apocalyptic cult targeting his wife – and the trail of dead bodies. What is so important about the missing Fuller Memorandum and why is everyone who knows dying…?

Told in first person viewpoint, this spy horror clips along with all the zest and ink-black humour of the previous books in the series. Poor old Bob has to put up with a lot, and his world-weary, humorous commentary gives this book an extra twist of enjoyment. Stross evidently has great affection for Bond films and H.P. Lovecraft’s fiction, because he borrows elements from both these influences and mixes them in a neat combination that has you chuckling while your skin pimples… It is a uniquely disturbing and memorable reading experience.

The world works wonderfully well and Stross skilfully plays with the tedium of Bob’s everyday office life set against the dangerous nature of his job. So the knowledge that we are on the verge of being invaded by some ghastly alien power vies with the notion that all paperclip movement needs to be strictly monitored because they become imprinted with traces of the documents they fasten… The book teeters on the edge of farce and horror all the way to the suitably horrific climax.

Stross is no slouch at characterisation, either. Mo, Bob’s intrepid and very accomplished wife, is beautifully drawn. But Angleton, Bob’s mysterious boss, is the true star of this tale and Bob’s viewpoint of him, along with his understandable resentment as a subordinate, is compelling enough to draw us in and make us care – very important in this story.

Any grizzles? Well… I’m being ultra-picky here – but in a genre where pace is everything, there were instances where I felt Bob’s doom-laden monologues could have done with being pruned back for the sake of keeping the tension wound sufficiently tight. But, overall, it is a trifling detail. I think this book is a triumph. If you’re feeling a bit jaded and looking for something truly different, then look no further. You won’t pick anything else off the shelves quite like this, I guarantee it.
4.5 stars

Review of Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffenegger

If you read and enjoyed Niffenegger’s poignant take on time travel in her bestselling debut novel The Time Traveler’s Wife, you might well be interested in her second book. It is certainly a contrast. Instead of the intense, almost claustrophobic relationship between Claire and her time-travelling husband told from her viewpoint, this story is told in multiple POV through a range of arresting, unusual characters.

Julia and Valentina Poole are normal American teenagers – normal at least, for identical ‘mirror’ twins who have no interest in college or jobs or possibly anything outside their cosy suburban home. But everything changes when they receive notice that an aunt whom they didn’t know existed has died and left them her flat in an apartment block overlooking Highgate Cemetery in London. They feel that at last their own lives can begin – but have no idea that they’ve been summoned into a tangle of fraying lives, from the obsessive-compulsive crossword setter who lives above them to their aunt’s mysterious and elusive lover who lives below them, and even to their aunt herself, who never got over her estrangement from the twins’ mother – and who can’t even seem to quite leave her flat…

Those of you who like high-octane non-stop action from page one aren’t going to find it here. Niffenegger copped a lot of criticism about the frenetic pace of The Time Traveler’s Wife and seems to have taken it to heart. This book initially proceeds with literary leisure as we are treated to extensive descriptions and a low-key start with Elspeth’s death and Robert’s mourning. Niffenegger has evidently spent a lot of time around Highgate Cemetery, a grandiose monument to death constructed by the Victorians at the height of that age’s gothic whimsy. Victorian families used to take walks and picnics amongst the headstones and statuary – a detail I picked up in the book. What Niffenegger does do, is completely capture the unique, eccentric charm of Highgate set within the buzz of London, giving us a cinematically sharp setting as events start to unfold. Because the pace picks up when the twins enter the story – and goes on steadily accelerating to the creepy, shiver-up-your spine climax that I didn’t see coming.

This well crafted book is layered with interesting observations on the themes of obsession, love and loss. Niffenegger handles her cast of extraordinary characters – Dickensian in their oddness – with deft skill that prevents them treacling into Victorian sentimentality or whimsy. There is certainly nothing whimsical about the shocking turn of events. I was sucked into Niffenegger’s world – and now, nearly a week and two books later, I still find myself thinking about the twins, Elspeth and Robert…

I generally steer away from horror for a solid reason – and this disturbing, ghostly tour de force has reminded me why, all over again.

9/10

Review of The Devil You Know by Mike Carey

You’ve just put down the latest Harry Dresden instalment with a sad sigh, already missing the sharp asides from our hero. Cheer up, there’s another kid on the block – every bit as sardonic, hard-boiled-yet-vulnerable as Jim Butcher’s entertaining protagonist. Felix Castor. Apologies for those of you who have already discovered this series which apparently has been knocking around for a while, but I’ve only just tripped over Mike Carey’s world.
Felix Castor is a freelance exorcist and London is his stamping ground. At a time when the supernatural world is in upheaval and spilling over into the mundane reality of the living, his skills are in desperate demand. A good exorcist can charge what he likes. But there’s a risk: sooner or later he’s likely to take on a spirit that’s too strong for him. Then it’s game over.
Castor has been ‘retired’ for a year or more after a close encounter that he only just survived. But now old debts – of more than one kind – draw him back to the life he rejected, and he accepts a seemingly simple exorcism. Trouble is, the more he discovers about the ghost in the archive, the more things refuse to add up – and the more deeply he’s dragged into a world he really doesn’t want to know about. What should have been a perfectly straightforward job is rapidly turning into the Who Can Kill Castor First Show, with demons, were-beings and ghosts all lining up to claim the big prize.
Carey is an experienced writer and it shows. London is well depicted without the torrent of detail Kate Griffin gives us. The cast of characters are intriguing and suitably complex, with Felix Castor’s enjoyably sardonic narration giving us a front seat into a fast-paced story that offers up a series of surprises and interesting characters.. A word of warning, though. Carey’s writing is on grittier end of the urban fantasy genre. The use of strong language reflects this and although supernatural beings do crop up in Castor’s world fairly regularly, the thrust of the story is concerned with the grubbier end of human endeavours. What relieves the grim undertow is the dry, humorous asides to the reader. I also enjoyed the fact that Castor regularly wonders where the ghosts come from – and what happens to them after he’s expunged them from our world. Is he, in effect, killing them? It’s a question that bothers him.
Carey satisfactorily ties up all the loose ends, particularly those connected with the storyline. I know this has begun to sound like a bit of an obsession of mine, but I just hate it when a writer pulls you into their world, takes you on a journey and then strands you by not properly finishing off the narrative – something, I hasten to add, that Carey is NOT guilty of.
Trawling the internet, I find that Carey has written four other Felix Castor novels, so I’m about to get hold of Vicious Circle, the second book in the series.
8/10

Review of ‘I’m the King of the Castle’ by Susan Hill

This book is parked on the library shelf marked Horror. Having said that, there isn’t a vampire, zombie or sword-waving anything in sight. In fact, there isn’t much in the way of blood and gore or even a decent fight (sorry…). So why is it here? Because the book lodged in my brain like a burr since I read it years ago and having recently reread it, it’s every bit as good as I remember.

Charles Kingshaw and his mother find themselves living in a huge Victorian house, when Mrs Kingshaw is forced to find a job as a housekeeper. However, ten-year-old Edmund Hooper, whose father owns the house, bitterly resents the intrusion and determines to make Charles pay. Which he certainly does… As Edmund’s campaign against Charles escalates, Hill takes us on a dark path towards the shocking climax of the book.
There might not be much in the way of supernatural mayhem, but a real sense of dread pervades as Hill carefully crafts a gothic, creepy feel in this tale of anger, longing, loneliness and brutality. The exquisite writing charts the struggles of the four major characters coming to terms with their loveless lives and the toll it takes on all of them. And if it sounds like it isn’t a barrel of laughs – you’d be right. But if you enjoy reading a gripping tale written by a highly accomplished author at the height of her unsettling powers, then this is a must-read book.
The opening sequence in the third chapter, when Charles is attacked by a crow while out walking through a cornfield, is a great example of writing an action scene. Hill describes the landscape with cinematic clarity, while ensuring that the reader sees the whole incident through Charles’ point of view, complete with the thoughts, emotions and sensations of a ten-year-old boy.
‘Kingshaw began to run, not caring, now if he trampled the corn, wanting
to get away, down into the next field. He thought that the corn might be some kind of crow’s food store, in which he was seen as an invader. Perhaps this was only the first of a whole battalion of crows, that would rise up and swoop at him. Get on to the grass, he thought, get on to the grass, that’ll be safe, it’ll go away. He wondered if it had mistaken him for some hostile animal, lurking down in the corn…Sweat was running down his forehead and into his eyes. He looked up. The crow kept coming. He ran.’
(Susan Hill, 1970, p.31)

By the end of this scene, we completely identify with Charles – and also later in the story, come to realise that the crow is also a metaphor for the violence he encounters.
For those interested in such things, Susan Hill is also the author of the classic ghost play The Woman in Black, which has been running in the West End since 1989. She also wrote Mrs DeWinter, sequel to the famous book Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier.
10/10