Review of The Neon Court – Book 3 of The Matthew Swift series by Kate Griffin

When the city was founded, he was the mad native spirit that waited in the dark, on the edge of the torchlight. When the streets were cobbled over, he became the footsteps heard on stone that you cannot see. When the Victorians introduced street lighting, he was the shadow who always shied away from the light, and when the gas went out, there he was. The shadow at the end of the alley, the footsteps half-heard in the night.

A daimyo of the Neon Court is dead. So are two warriors of the Tribe. And a freshly-prophesied ‘chosen one’ is missing. Each side blames the other and Matthew Swift is right in the middle of it, trying to keep the peace. Because when magicians go to war, everyone loses.

And there you have it – most of the blurb for Griffin’s third book in the series that created such a stir with A Madness of Angels. So, does Griffin manage to maintain the high standard of writing and outstanding characterisation that she established in that first book?

Matthew Swift is now the Midnight Mayor, albeit reluctantly. It’s his job to step in and save the day when London is threatened by magical forces – along with the Aldermen and his assistant, Penny. Matthew’s still the bloody-minded individual with a planet-sized chip on his shoulder that at times saves his life – and at other times has him haring down yet another noxious alley with no shoes on… But what Griffin is now offering is the beginnings of a team forming around Matthew. We start to learn more about Penny, and Dee, one of the Aldermen who steps into the line of fire alongside Matthew in his battle against the thing at the end of the alley.
What makes this series outstanding, is the way Griffin incorporates her magic into the London landscape – and then twists it into something quite different, often revolting… The sequence with the King of Rats had me profoundly grateful that I was inbetween meals when reading it – and then there is the unforgettable image of escaping off a burning building on a flying creature made up of discarded plastic carrier bags. Needless to say, there is nothing Flower Fairies about Griffin’s depiction of the fae – The Neon Court. They are portrayed as exquisite – and completely ruthless about the humans who they ensnare to serve them. Their deadly enemies, the Tribe, mutilate themselves with bizarre piercings to prove their physical toughness and as a declaration to the world that they care nothing for material values. The downtrodden and reviled often find a niche with the Tribe, who also speak in a form of text-speech. I’m hoping that they reappear later in the series – I found them fascinating.

So, any grizzles? Well, it’s more of an observation, really. The majority of long-running series that I’ve read tend to start with someone stumbling across the issue that ultimately makes them a bit powerful in the first book, and steadily becoming more formidable as they gain strength and experience. This didn’t happen in A Madness of Angels – Matthew Swift was more or less as he is, now. So, while the opponents change, they are all very heavy duty – they have to be because Matthew is such a force. Using the word formulaic is far too harsh – Griffin’s poetical prose with her wonderfully imagined magical landscape and quirky unpleasantness is a one-off. But there is a definite pattern emerging within each storyline. Did it ultimately spoil my enjoyment of The Neon Court? No. But I am hoping that in the fourth book of the series, Griffin manages to ring the changes – maybe take the Midnight Mayor somewhere else, for instance…

If you have a weakness for well written, gritty urban fantasy and you haven’t yet picked up this series, then you’re in for a treat – however, don’t start with The Neon Court. Give yourself a treat and track down the first two books, first. Meantime, I’m off to find a copy of The Minority Council.  Hats off to Orbit – the covers for this series are absolutely wonderful.
9/10

Review of The House of Velvet and Glass by Katherine Howe

Katherine Howe’s impressive debut novel The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane was an enjoyable thought-provoking examination of the nature of witchcraft and mother/daughter relationships. She skilfully used the long shadow of the Salem Witch Trials in a fresh twist that had me pondering some of the issues she raised long after I finished the book. So, the questions has to be – does her new novel live up to this high standard?

1915, Boston. Sybil Allston is a young woman poised on the cusp of a tumultuous new century. But she’s living a life of quiet desperation with her father and wastrel brother in an elegant town house in the city’s plushest neighbourhood. Though her days are rich in creature comforts, she is still reeling from the loss of her mother and sister on the Titanic, which sank three years earlier.

Against this backdrop of Boston on the brink of change flash intimate moments of Sybil’s mother and sister on their final lavish evening on the Titanic, hours before the collision that would destroy the ship and claim their lives – lives revisited through the crystal ball of a medium.

I’ve skipped a chunk of the blurb that reveals too much of the plot – this finely crafted historical exploration of some tricky subjects deserves to be read without any spoilers taking the edge off your enjoyment. Howe is adept at using difficult periods in our past to tease out some contemporary problems – and the subject of drug addiction seems somehow more shocking when set against long dresses and Edwardian manners. She also looks at spiritualism, which enjoyed a huge upsurge in popularity during and after the Great War, when so many were bereaved without proper closure with their young men buried in the mud of Flanders’ fields.

Once more, Howe’s apparently gentle style is deceptive – the comforting glow of the past is nothing of the sort. Sybil’s angry guilt-ridden grief traps her just as thoroughly as the corseted expectations that dismiss her as a spinster, fated to run her father’s home and nurse him in his declining years. As for communicating with her mother, or stop her brother from his self-destructive behaviour – how can she prevail?

The answer Howe provides had my jaw dropping. She plays with our expectations and then flips them round, so that someone we had considered as one type, in actual fact was quite different. So, fascinating as Sybil is, she isn’t the character that ultimately snagged my attention in this layered story. It is the self-made Captain Allston whose compelling story slowly unfolds throughout the book – and makes his indifference to the more staid Bostonian customs completely believable.

In fact, there was only one anachronism that initially graunched – as first class female passengers, Helen Allston and her beautiful young daughter would have been almost guaranteed to have seats in the few available lifeboats. But as Howe herself confessed that this was a liberty she took with the historical facts in the Appendix, then she gets a pass on that one. This is, after all, fiction. And with a book that so beautifully creates the febrile atmosphere of that difficult time – if Howe knowingly tweaks the facts to suit her purposes, that’s fair enough. Particularly as she reckoned her readership was sharp enough to call her on it. That is a large part of the joy of this book – Howe’s intelligence shines through this atmospheric tale, better still, her writing assumes her readers will keep up.

So, to answer my original question – in case you hadn’t already guessed – the answer is a resounding yes. The House of Velvet and Glass is a worthy successor to The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane. But don’t take my word for it – go out and get hold of a copy. You’ll thank me if you do.
10/10

Review of Goddess of the Sea by P.C. Cast

In the slew of paranormal romances out there, this one had a particularly intriguing premise – P.C. Cast mixes ancient myths and legends with the contemporary world, giving them a new, modern twist. As Goddess of the Sea is the first in the series, I decided to give it a go.

Home alone on the night of her twenty-fifty birthday, US Air Force sergeant Christine Canady yearns for something to cure her loneliness. After drinking too much champagne, she recites a divine invocation to revive her humdrum life. But how is she to know the spell actually works?

The blurb goes on for another long paragraph, but contains waaay too many spoilers in my opinion. I didn’t read the back of the book before starting it – and if I had, I would have probably complained that the first 100 pages dragged, like so many other reviewers, because I would have already known what was coming up. Instead, I was rather surprised at the plot twist which had Christine splashing about in the waves and intrigued to see where Cast would take the book, next. I think plotting is one of Cast’s main strengths as a writer – whatever I was half expecting just didn’t happen. Christine – or CC as she is called – definitely ends up in a completely different place to the military base where she has been working…

Of course for the book to really work, CC has to be an appealing, believable figure as the story is written in limited third person viewpoint. As it was a paranormal romance, I was expecting the typically strong, yet conflicted female, capable of significant violence when circumstances required. Cast ticked some of those boxes, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that when CC was put into a difficult situation, there was a genuine sense of danger. The fantasy didn’t revolve around her invulnerability, due to some hitherto unknown lethal ability to kill people in a messy manner. Which meant that the villains posed a real threat. And there were several to choose from – ranging from the over-the-top pantomime-type, to the creepy Abbot whose attitude towards women in general and CC in particular, was… nasty. While CC is mostly an appealing and generally likeable heroine, she seemed to cope with being yanked out of her timeline with a great deal of composure. I would have liked to have seen her more miserable at the lack of modern comforts – nothing to read, no TV or radio, no iPod… And though scrubbing chapels and meeting up with a merman may mop up a lot of time, just once I would have liked an internal rant at the general grime, discomfort and sheer inconvenience of living in an age with no running water, flushing toilets or electricity…

As for the supernatural aspect to the story – did it work? Hm… for me this was the major weakness. There was never any real explanation as to why CC’s drunken yearning for change appealed to the Goddess – and her resultant interventions in CC’s life were very much in the ‘…and then she waved her fairy wand’ school of Fantasy. While paranormal romance often concentrates on the romance rather than the paranormal aspect, I was a tad disappointed at the manner in which the Goddess seemed to pop up arbitrarily and sweep all before her – particularly when taking into account Cast’s evident ability to write an engrossing and believable world with plenty of tension. I felt that the magical side of the story could have been more strongly depicted and maybe have pervaded the episode in the monastery with a greater sense of menace and ‘otherness’.

Despite the above grumbles, the book held me to the end – which I didn’t see coming – and I found it an enjoyable read.
7/10

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

How Vine Leaves Stuffed Nemesis

‘You’d be much more attractive if you didn’t have that cloud of midges buzzing around your head,’ I grumbled, waving away the pesky insects. I smoothed out the frown lines that weren’t doing a lot for my wonderful Grecian brow, or high perfect forehead. I leant closer to the still pool, awed and lovestruck-

A fish jumped, disturbing the wonderful reflection in the limpid water. I wriggled, suddenly aware that the river bank was uncomfortably damp and I was rather stiff. I stretched and looked back down into the pond. Ah… That straight nose… those fine, flashing eyes… the strong jawline….

‘You’re so beautiful,’ I whispered, my heart thudding with desire as I stared into those mesmerising eyes. ‘I’ll stay here. Always. Just for you.’

The reflection rippled as my golden curls were ruffled by the wind. Which – come to think of it – was getting decidedly chilly. Blinking, I sat up and looked around. It was a shock to see that Apollo’s chariot was heading westwards, towards the horizon. Where had the day gone? Surely, it was only a couple of hours ago just after daybreak that I’d rushed to this spot on the bank and once more lost myself in the beauty of the face that stared back at me? No wonder my beautifully toned belly was growling.

I settled back on the bank and smiled down at the smooth surface of the water, realising that all too soon, I’d have to tear myself away from this vision of beauty as the light faded.  Those finely moulded lips parted, showing perfect teeth as I wondered if Mother had started cooking supper. What was that drool doing dribbling down my chiselled chin? I sucked it up fast, hoping that the water nymphs hadn’t noticed such an unfortunate blot on my perfection. They often gathered to admire my heart-stopping good looks, sighing soft wordless sounds of love, while I gazed and gazed at the most beautiful sight in all the world-

“Nar-CIS-sus.” Mother’s warbling three-note cry split the air.

A rustling shiver from the nearby reedbed, followed by discreet splashes told me that I had, indeed, had an audience of admirers. Which Mother had now driven away.  I sat up again, feeling thoroughly peeved. And wishing – not for the first time – that I had the sort of mother someone with my shining looks deserved. A woman full of grace. Slim, with moonlight-silver hair, who wore her matron’s robes with decorum and dignity-

“Oh, there you are!” Mother crashed through the vegetation with all the finesse of a water buffalo. “This nonsense really has to stop, son. You keep staring at yourself in the river all day, you’ll fade away to nothing.”

Gazing at her red, perspiring face, stout figure and frizzed hair was a horrible contrast after having spent so long engrossed with my own sublime looks. I shivered with disgust. Until, catching sight of my reflection, I realised my brow was wrinkled in an unbecoming frown.

“…cooked your very favourite meal, tonight.”

“Stuffed vine leaves?” I was a bit shocked at how croaky and unattractive my voice sounded. But then, I hadn’t spoken today. Other than whisper words of love to my own reflection.

Mother’s face split into a greasy grin. “And though I do say so myself, they are fit for Zeus Almighty. Ambrosia wouldn’t taste better. But don’t take my word for it…” She held out a small wrapped packet.

Saliva flooded my mouth. She mightn’t look all that special, but one thing Mother did better than anyone, was cook – especially stuffed vine leaves. The smell wafted towards me in the late evening breeze.

The reeds in the river rattled gently as, kneeling up, I took another long look at my reflection. For the first time, I noticed that those flawlessly smooth cheeks were looking a tad sunken. And – Zeus Almighty! I looked down at the muddy mess plastering the front of my tunic. How had that happened?

Mother tutted. ‘You go on staining all your clothes with river mud, Narcissus, you’ll have nothing decent to wear when you take Echo to the Festival next week. Do you want these stuffed vines leaves? Because if not…’ She started unwrapping them.

I glanced once more at the reflection gazing up at me… pleading… dribbling… The ache in my guts twisted sharply and I snatched the vines leaves out of Mother’s hand.

Of course, it was very gratifying to be so handsome. I knew that there would never be anyone else I’d love as much as my own perfect face. But the truth was, it was beginning to get just a little bit boring staring at it all day. And damp. And very muddy. As for those insects – flying up my nostrils and crawling into my ears.

The taste of the meat and rich sauce exploded in my mouth and I sighed with pleasure. This was beauty… perfection… heart-stopping wonder…

Mother gazed at me and for the first time, I could see the family resemblance. Her expression was soft and loving. ‘Come home, son. There’s plenty more vines leaves waiting for you to tuck into. You’ve been wasting away. Stuck here on this old river bank.’

She’s right…. I licked my fingers and followed her back home, resolving to stay away from pools of still water. Maybe,I’d get Mother to teach me how to make stuffed vine leaves, after I’d had some seconds. And thirds.

*

High on Olympus, Nemesis, shrew-faced goddess, kicked one of Zeus’s thunderbolts and swore. It was so unfair. She’d planned to gift the world with a small nodding flower, blooming by streams and rivers. Along with its showier golden cousin heralding Spring. And now an interfering mother had messed up her whole scheme and she’d have to think of another way of gaining everlasting fame. Honestly, this goddess business was a lot harder than these mortals thought.

While in another Time and Place, the struggling poet, William Wordsworth moodily trudged along a lakeside path, wondering why his poem Bluebells hadn’t sold….

Review of White Witch, Black Curse – Book 7 of The Hollows by Kim Harrison

This is yet another urban fantasy series where supernatural creatures rub shoulders with the rest of us mere mortals, with often spellbinding consequences.

Set in Cincinnati after a plague triggered by a mutant form of tomato has decimated the human population, Rachel Morgan is a witch who makes a living as a runner and bounty hunter. She has taken her fair share of hits and has broken lines she swore she would never cross. But when her vampire lover was murdered, it left a deeper wound than Rachel ever imagined and now she won’t rest until his death is solved… and avenged. Whatever the cost. Yet the road to hell is paved with good intentions and when a new predator moves to the apex of the Inderlander food chain, Rachel’s past comes back to haunt her. Literally…

Those of you who haven’t yet sampled the delights of Harrison’s work and are considering picking this book up, my advice to you is – don’t. Like all genres, urban fantasy comes in varying levels of complexity and while I wouldn’t claim that White Witch, Black Curse is a particularly demanding read, it is a chunky 552 pages. Which is a long time to be floundering around in a morass of unfamiliar words and names, while you attempt to get a grip on the extensive cast of characters and exactly what they do. Especially as the author doesn’t attempt to do a ‘Story So Far’. Go back to the start of this excellent series and read Dead Witch Walking.

Rachel’s story is told in first person POV with pleasing complexity and – like Jim Butcher’s Harry Dresden books – issues started in previous stories continue to develop throughout the series, rather than just pop up in one book, never again to be mentioned. Her world stands out as being particularly well-rounded and three-dimensional with plenty of tension between the different races, nicely filtered through Rachel’s viewpoint.

Inevitably, the series is getting steadily darker as the storylines progress and Harrison effectively portrays Rachel’s grief at her lover’s death without slowing down the action-packed plot. That said, there are lighter moments and the relationship between Rachel, her vampire friend Ivy and the pixie Jenks has a nice mix of humour and edginess.

I’m conscious that a number of folk are starting to roll their eyes at the torrent of books coming out with supernatural heroines stalking the streets. However, I still thoroughly enjoy a paranormal whodunit in a well-written world with a convincingly conflicted protagonist – and Harrison’s Rachel Morgan is right up there with the best of the best.
9/10

Review of Pride – Book 3 in the Shapeshifter series by Rachel Vincent

This is yet another series of paranormal fantasy about the highs and lows in the life of Faythe Sanders, a shape-shifting human/cat. You either like or loathe this currently fashionable sub-genre, and I thoroughly enjoy it – so long as the books are well written. And Vincent’s slightly spoiled, feisty girlie is depicted with understanding, humour and energy that has her leaping off the page, grabbing me by the throat and not letting go until I’ve read the last page.

The werecat council has three cardinal laws and headstrong Faythe stands accused of breaking two of them: infecting a human with her supernatural skills and killing him to cover her tracks. With the death penalty hanging over her head, Faythe has no escape route left. Until a shapeshifter informs the pride of a rash of rogue strays terrorising his land. Yet this threat is nothing like any they’ve seen before. Only Faythe has the knowledge to save the pride, but can she prove her worth? Or will the council s verdict condemn them all?

Vincent’s paranormal tweak has werecat society rigidly organised by a cabal of Alphas – a bunch of elderly men whose political manoeuvring impacts on the prides who provide them with their powerbase. So Faythe’s rebellion is also an expression of frustration when she sees women of her age able to enjoy a level of freedom that is denied her. I both approve of and acknowledge Vincent’s skill in bringing the issue of feminism into her work – and clearly illustrating to her target audience, young western women, just how confining and dangerous it is to be a high spirited, intelligent girl in a number of societies around the world, these days… It is all the more effective for being implicit in the plotting and not at any stage waved under our noses. Nicely done, Rachel.
Like all the better multi-book series, Vincent allows her cast of supporting characters to also develop and deal with their own issues. So we get to know Faythe’s ex-lover a lot better, as well as other members of the pride, in addition to watching her deal with her father, whose authority she resents almost as much as she loves him. The story is well paced and slickly told, with the unfolding drama about the newcomer discovered in the woods very well handled. Yes – I did guess some of it before the reveal, but the extra political ramifications around the discovery were slickly executed and added an additional layer of interest.

All in all, this latest addition to the series is an enjoyable page turner that under all the apparent fluff and paranormal nonsense, has some dark and pertinent things to say about the status of far too many young women whose lives are in the hands of misogynistic men.
8/10

Review of Ill Wind – Book 1 of the Weather Warden series by Rachel Caine

Enjoy non-stop, action-packed fantasy, complete with the mandatory misunderstood but gutsy heroine? Have to say – I love it. I’m a complete sucker for the better written series – and here’s a real treat. Caine has given us a world where naturally occurring phenomena such as weather, earthquakes and volcanoes are sentient – and strongly hostile to human existence. Enter the Wardens who possess the power to control these disasters and mitigate their effects, keeping humankind a lot safer than they would otherwise be. Her protagonist, Joanne Baldwin, is a Weather Warden.

The Wardens Association has been around pretty much for ever. Some Wardens control fire, others control earth, water or wind – and the most powerful can control more than one element. Without Wardens, Mother Nature would wipe humanity off the face of the earth…

Joanne Baldwin – fashion addict and professional, if unwilling hero – is a Weather Warden. Usually, all it takes is a wave of her hand to tame the most violent weather. But now Joanne is trying to outrun another kind of storm: accusations of corruption and murder. So she’s resorting to the very human tactic of running for her life.

Her only hope is Lewis, the most powerful Warden. Unfortunately, he’s also on the run from the World Council. It seems he’s stolen not one but three bottles of Djinn – making him the most powerful man on earth. And without Lewis, Joanne’s chances of surviving are as good as a snowball in – well, a place she may be headed. So she and her classic Mustang are racing hard to find him because there’s some bad weather closing in fast…

And that’s where this breathlessly paced story starts. Joanne, desperate and on the run. As she blasts her car at highly illegal speeds along American roads, we learn just why she’s running and what happened. It is a ripping good yarn, told with poise and ability. Caine manages to handle a lot of action in a small timescale without dropping any of the narrative tension; losing character focus; or giving us anything other than a cinematically sharp account of exactly what is happening at all times. It takes a lot of skill to write that clearly.

An aspect of these books (yes, there’s a series – eight so far. I’ve read three to date and they go on giving the goods…) that I’m really enjoying is the role of Djinn. These supernatural creatures sound quite familiar – although they have great natural powers they can be enslaved to human will and stored in a bottle. Wardens use them as tools to amplify their own abilities to battle some of the increasingly violent storms afflicting the planet and regard them as a tool. However, Joanne becomes romantically entangled with one – David. Which gives her a completely different and opposing view to the prevailing one that Djinns are merely hostile entities to be overcome and used as necessary. This ongoing story arc throughout the first three books has given me the impetus to get hold of the next book in series – as with all the most successful urban fantasy series, like Butcher’s Harry Dresden, and Charlaine Harris’s Sookie Stackhouse, the characters surrounding the protagonist also matter – developing and changing alongside our heroine.

All in all, a really enjoyable romp – with the bonus of lots of weather details for those of us who find the subject fascinating. I’m now looking to get hold of the next five books…
8/10

Review of Grave Sight, Book One of the Harper Connolly series by Charlaine Harris

Gollancz have brought this series out under their Romance imprint, which has me scratching my head, somewhat.  Because romantic it ain’t.  As far as I’m concerned, it is a cracking paranormal whodunit, written in first person POV by an accomplished writer.

Sometimes, Harper Connolly dreams of buying a house and settling down.  But mostly she just gets on with cris-crossing the States with her stepbrother Tolliver, travelling from one job to another.  Because since a bolt of lightning zapped her on the head, she has an extra talent – Harper can find dead people.  Some people find Harper’s gift useful, but she’s getting used to most people treating her like a blood-sucking leech.  So she concentrates on getting the job done, getting paid and getting out, fast.

However, when they travel to Ozarks to find a missing teenager, things don’t go according to plan.  And while Tolliver is locked up on trumped-up charges, Harper finds herself fighting for her life…

If you like this sub-genre, then this series is a joy.  The character of Harper is delightfully complex – she is often morose, with a disturbed past and the world through her eyes is tautly described.  I relaxed and enjoyed the ride – for Harris is no slouch when concocting a murder plot.  There is a host of likely candidates with a suitably creepy backdrop.   And the denouement – always crucial in these books – is satisfyingly dramatic, with a surprising twist.

The relationship between Tolliver and Harper is another strength in this book.  It is multi-layered and beautifully depicted with not an ounce of sentimentality.  I suppose this is the Romance that allows Gollancz to shoehorn the Harper Connolly series under this imprint.  But don’t go looking for languishing looks and steamy sex.  There isn’t any.  This series is so much better than that…

9/10