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Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated Hottest Blood: The Ultimate in Erotic Horror in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – Hottest Blood: The Ultimate in Erotic Horror is Neither of Those Things
(I’m gonna go ahead and throw a disclaimer on up here: You are about to read something that deals with purportedly “erotic” subject matter. If you don’t like the sound of that word, you might wanna go elsewhere. If it’s actually-erotic things that offend you, though, you’ll be fine.)
I like short story compilations because you get a variety of content that’s just as easy to breeze through if you have the time as it is to get to a stopping point and put down if you don’t. I like horror fiction because it usually involves the super-natural, which interests me, and intense emotional responses, which are almost always a good thing in writing. And I like eroticism because I am a warm-blooded human being with a pulse. However, on the whole, I do not like Hottest Blood.
I wanted to, I did. Look at that cover. It’s equal amounts scary and sexy, both in completely safe, PG-13-at-most kind of ways. Unfortunately, Softcore Succubus here is both the scariest and the sexiest thing about this book
Bluntly analogized, you know that feeling you get when you come across something on the internet that disturbs and/or disgusts you, and then you learn that there’s a dedicated group of people that gets off on it? Most of the stories in this book are that feeling captured in words.
Case in point, the story “Damaged Goods” by Elizabeth Massie, which as far as I can tell is about a couple of physically abused, emotionally damaged, developmentally stunted kids somewhere around their early teens who live with a religious fringe cult being led out to a field to have sex with each other while a nameless U.S. President watches and masturbates before both kids are drowned in a river by their preacher/pimp caretaker.
Or there’s “Mr. Right” by Chris Lacher, which tells the story of a college student named Russ who has a secret fetish for the deformed women in the freak show at a nearby carnival – a fascination which leads to him getting held down and forcibly raped by a group of unwashed subhuman mutants, which the detailed descriptions make sure you understand are completely revolting to all five senses. The story ends with him being dumped out behind the fairgrounds while a small, legless girl happily informs him that this is how all carnival workers reproduce, and he can look forward to seeing his own mutant rape-spawn in the show next year.
Or there’s “Abuse” by Matthew Costello, which simply shows us how the arrest of a Peewee Herman surrogate goes down in an adult movie theater before ending with another man jerking off with the cold, dry, severed hand in his pocket as he contemplates getting a new one to replace it.
The tone of these three are pretty much par for the course for the rest of the book: thoroughly disturbing, and sex is involved, but the disturbing feeling stems from revulsion rather than fear, and the sex bits are so far on the other end of the spectrum from erotic that it feels like the authors are trying to punish their readers for even expecting to be aroused in any way.
Of course, I said myself earlier that intense emotional responses are “almost always a good thing in writing.” By that merit alone, this book technically succeeds; in fact, if it had billed itself as shock fiction instead of erotic horror, I’d begrudgingly give it a medal in its class. The “aw, what the hell?!” moments are not as artistically executed as, say, a Chuck Palahniuk read, and they tend not to have as much depth to them, but strictly in terms of making you wish that you could unread words, they get the job done.
But that isn’t the job that Hottest Blood was hired to do, and that’s not what it put on its resume. It said it was going to “heat the blood and chill the mind,” and promised that “terror never felt this sexy!” It would have been more appropriate to say that “sex never felt this terrible.”
All of that said, if you abandon any hope of seeing anything resembling erotica or horror (scary horror, anyway), there are a few stories in here that are decent reads – mostly because they try to say something with their subject matter rather than use it to see how thoroughly they can ruin the idea of sex for the reader. To give a few quick nods of approval:
Nancy Holder’s “I Hear the Mermaids Singing,” which opens the anthology, is a dark and modern re-imagining of “The Little Mermaid” that brutally points up the drawbacks to throwing away your whole life and family in order to pursue someone that you know nothing about outside of a few fleeting glimpses and lustful inner fantasies.
J.L. Comeau’s “Black Cars” is the narrative of a high-class chauffeur as he tells his passenger an increasingly mysterious story about a couple of his regular customers, culminating in a creepy twist payoff that, in retrospect, actually makes it count as a legitimate horror story, and a decently gripping one at that.
And “Safe at Home” by Steve and Melanie Tem, while decidedly and disturbingly unsexy, at least has good reason to be; it’s a short character study of a young woman who’d been molested as a child, and the lasting and complex psychological damage resulting thereof that prevents her from having any normal social life or relationships, even with someone whom she legitimately likes, someone who knows what’s happened and sincerely cares for her.
So for the handful of intriguing stories that don’t make you quit (or wish you had) mid-read out of revolted disappointment, I can’t completely condemn Hottest Blood. If you want to test your own threshold for repulsion but are understandably hesitant to use online image searches to this end, I heartily recommend it.
If you are legitimately turned on by the idea of a man eating a woman alive and then gestating her alien spawn inside his own bloated body until his head detaches and crawls away (“How Deep the Taste of Love,” John Shirley), I suppose I still heartily recommend it, though I do so from a safe distance.
If you want to read one of the few stories involved that aren’t horrible, I heartily recommend trying to find them on their own somewhere else first.
But if you want “the ultimate in erotic horror,” stay the hell away. Softcore Succubus is a trap.
I like short story compilations because you get a variety of content that’s just as easy to breeze through if you have the time as it is to get to a stopping point and put down if you don’t. I like horror fiction because it usually involves the super-natural, which interests me, and intense emotional responses, which are almost always a good thing in writing. And I like eroticism because I am a warm-blooded human being with a pulse. However, on the whole, I do not like Hottest Blood.
I wanted to, I did. Look at that cover. It’s equal amounts scary and sexy, both in completely safe, PG-13-at-most kind of ways. Unfortunately, Softcore Succubus here is both the scariest and the sexiest thing about this book
Bluntly analogized, you know that feeling you get when you come across something on the internet that disturbs and/or disgusts you, and then you learn that there’s a dedicated group of people that gets off on it? Most of the stories in this book are that feeling captured in words.
Case in point, the story “Damaged Goods” by Elizabeth Massie, which as far as I can tell is about a couple of physically abused, emotionally damaged, developmentally stunted kids somewhere around their early teens who live with a religious fringe cult being led out to a field to have sex with each other while a nameless U.S. President watches and masturbates before both kids are drowned in a river by their preacher/pimp caretaker.
Or there’s “Mr. Right” by Chris Lacher, which tells the story of a college student named Russ who has a secret fetish for the deformed women in the freak show at a nearby carnival – a fascination which leads to him getting held down and forcibly raped by a group of unwashed subhuman mutants, which the detailed descriptions make sure you understand are completely revolting to all five senses. The story ends with him being dumped out behind the fairgrounds while a small, legless girl happily informs him that this is how all carnival workers reproduce, and he can look forward to seeing his own mutant rape-spawn in the show next year.
Or there’s “Abuse” by Matthew Costello, which simply shows us how the arrest of a Peewee Herman surrogate goes down in an adult movie theater before ending with another man jerking off with the cold, dry, severed hand in his pocket as he contemplates getting a new one to replace it.
The tone of these three are pretty much par for the course for the rest of the book: thoroughly disturbing, and sex is involved, but the disturbing feeling stems from revulsion rather than fear, and the sex bits are so far on the other end of the spectrum from erotic that it feels like the authors are trying to punish their readers for even expecting to be aroused in any way.
Of course, I said myself earlier that intense emotional responses are “almost always a good thing in writing.” By that merit alone, this book technically succeeds; in fact, if it had billed itself as shock fiction instead of erotic horror, I’d begrudgingly give it a medal in its class. The “aw, what the hell?!” moments are not as artistically executed as, say, a Chuck Palahniuk read, and they tend not to have as much depth to them, but strictly in terms of making you wish that you could unread words, they get the job done.
But that isn’t the job that Hottest Blood was hired to do, and that’s not what it put on its resume. It said it was going to “heat the blood and chill the mind,” and promised that “terror never felt this sexy!” It would have been more appropriate to say that “sex never felt this terrible.”
All of that said, if you abandon any hope of seeing anything resembling erotica or horror (scary horror, anyway), there are a few stories in here that are decent reads – mostly because they try to say something with their subject matter rather than use it to see how thoroughly they can ruin the idea of sex for the reader. To give a few quick nods of approval:
Nancy Holder’s “I Hear the Mermaids Singing,” which opens the anthology, is a dark and modern re-imagining of “The Little Mermaid” that brutally points up the drawbacks to throwing away your whole life and family in order to pursue someone that you know nothing about outside of a few fleeting glimpses and lustful inner fantasies.
J.L. Comeau’s “Black Cars” is the narrative of a high-class chauffeur as he tells his passenger an increasingly mysterious story about a couple of his regular customers, culminating in a creepy twist payoff that, in retrospect, actually makes it count as a legitimate horror story, and a decently gripping one at that.
And “Safe at Home” by Steve and Melanie Tem, while decidedly and disturbingly unsexy, at least has good reason to be; it’s a short character study of a young woman who’d been molested as a child, and the lasting and complex psychological damage resulting thereof that prevents her from having any normal social life or relationships, even with someone whom she legitimately likes, someone who knows what’s happened and sincerely cares for her.
So for the handful of intriguing stories that don’t make you quit (or wish you had) mid-read out of revolted disappointment, I can’t completely condemn Hottest Blood. If you want to test your own threshold for repulsion but are understandably hesitant to use online image searches to this end, I heartily recommend it.
If you are legitimately turned on by the idea of a man eating a woman alive and then gestating her alien spawn inside his own bloated body until his head detaches and crawls away (“How Deep the Taste of Love,” John Shirley), I suppose I still heartily recommend it, though I do so from a safe distance.
If you want to read one of the few stories involved that aren’t horrible, I heartily recommend trying to find them on their own somewhere else first.
But if you want “the ultimate in erotic horror,” stay the hell away. Softcore Succubus is a trap.
Mandy and G.D. Burkhead (26 KP) rated The Book of Kings in Books
May 20, 2018
Shelf Life – The Book of Kings Has a Few Gems and a Few Warts
Contains spoilers, click to show
Unlike other short story anthologies I could mention, this one wasn’t mostly horrible. Instead, the stories inside run the gamut from stupid to brilliant and from annoying to nothing special to fun and memorable. A little something for everyone, then.
So since I can’t review it with one blanket sentiment, let’s instead take a quick look at a handful of the 20 all-original stories inside. The following are the tales that most stood out to me during my reading, for better or worse.
“The Kiss” by Alan Dean Foster – A woman walking through a snowy city finds a frog who says he’s a prince, so she kisses him. He turns into a guy and stabs her to death.
Oh boy, we’re not off to a great start here. This story could have been told in a page or so and been an interesting twist on the old tale, but instead the author drew it out over three pages by choosing the absolute most pretentious choice of words for every damn sentence. The guy doesn’t stab the woman, his “knife describes a Gothic arc.” She doesn’t shout or whisper or ask what’s going on, she “expels a querrelous trauma.” It’s not snowing on her face, “trifles of ice as beautiful as they were capricious tickled her exposed cheeks, only to be turned into simulacra of tears as they were instantly metamorphosed by the bundled furnace of her body.”
Yes, really.
The sheer purpleness of this prose might be excused for a deliberately lofty and overwrought tale, but it absolutely does not fit a story about a girl getting shanked by a frog on the street. If the contrast between what’s happening and how it’s presented is supposed to seem absolutely ridiculous, then it’s a success. This reads more like a writing exercise for seeing how unbearably melodramatic you can tell a simple story that the author went ahead and published anyway. I only read it last night as of the time of this particular bit of review, but I still have a headache.
“Divine Right” by Nancy Holder – A king grieving for his recently passed daughter and only heir tries to figure out how to keep his legacy from dying out and eventually decides on a way to choose a successor, sealing his decision by making a pact with God.
I really liked this one, partly for the great characterization of the king via his priorities. He’s not a bastion of righteousness or a tyrannical despot. He might be a pretty decent ruler, or he might not, depending on your priorities and the angle from which you view him. Mostly he’s written to be believable for his position and time period, pride and failings and all.
But what really sealed this story for me was the ironic bent of the plot that I can’t really discuss in any more depth without spoiling it except to say that it definitely fit with the tone and left an appropriate message. So let’s just give it a thumbs up and leave it at that.
“In the Name of the King” by Judith Tarr – If you know the story of Hatshepsut, an Egyptian queen who ruled as Pharaoh, then this is an extra interesting story. It follows both Hatshepsut and her lover in the afterlife and the legacy they’re leaving behind after their deaths, in which they take a surprisingly active interest for dead people.
If you know your history, though, you know where this is going, and it’s very touching as it gets there. It’s also character-centric in a way that makes its dead cast members seem very much alive. This one’s a good contender for my favorite story in the whole anthology.
“Please to See the King” by Debra Doyle and James D. Macdonald – A small glimpse of about one evening each into the lives of two seemingly unrelated, seemingly unimportant men against the backdrop of the battles being fought over a vague and distant rebellion against a vague and distant crown.
To say more would be to spoil the story, which is short, sweet, and interesting. It gives you just enough details, and no more, that you can piece together a much deeper story with room left for speculation about who certain characters really were and what exactly just happened. I’ve spent more time thinking about how the ending may be interpreted than it took me to read it, which is a good sign of nuance done right.
“The Name of a King” by Diana L. Paxson – This’n c’n rightf’ly b’ put in w’ th’ other st’ries I woul’n’t oth’rwise b’ther t’ mention ‘cept fer th’ o’erwrought dialectic style o’ nearly all o’ th’ dialogue, whut c’n git on yer nerves right quick-like whene’er any’ne op’ns their mouths. An’ while I’m ‘ere, th’ settin’ w’s rife wi’ plen’y o’ hints at deeper d’tails whut was ne’er sufficien’ly delved into or whut impact’d th’ actu’l plot much. Felt like part o’ a fant’sy series whut I was ‘spected t’ b’ f’miliar wit’ but wasn’t, an’ whut di’n’t give me ’nuff t’ git f’miliar wit’ just fr’m this st’ry.
Oth’rwise, t’w’sn’t t’ b’d, I s’pose. Bit borin’.
“Coda: Working Stiff” by Mike Resnick and Nicholas A. DiChario – This one was just fun. Again trying not to give away any twists or revelations, this one follows a journalist interviewing a bus driver who used to be a big, famous king back in his heyday but is now content (or so he says) with his obscure life of working a simple job in the day and drinking in his spartan home at night.
Who this ex-king really is probably isn’t who you think it’s gonna be at first, but the story does still technically, and cheekily, fit in with the premise of the book overall. It reminds me very much of something Neil Gaiman might have written, or maybe Terry Pratchett if he’d decided to tackle the kingly premise from a more modern and realistic approach.
There are still 14 stories left in here, many of which are also good reads, or at least decent. In fact, looking back through it again, the only real dud that stands out to me is “The Kiss.” The weakest of what’s left are either adaptations of stories that didn’t really do it for me (“The Tale of Lady Ashburn” by John Gregory Betancourt) or weird original works that weren’t really memorable in what they set out to do (“A Parker House Roll” by Dean Wesley Smith).
Overall, The Book of Kings is a fun and interesting romp through a number of royal worlds, themes, and tones. As such, anyone who gives it a look will probably have the same general sentiment I did at the end, with a few things to like and a few to point to as examples of what doesn’t work for them. Me, I got a bit of the inspiration I was looking for and a few memorable tales out of it, so I’ll forgive the warts.
So since I can’t review it with one blanket sentiment, let’s instead take a quick look at a handful of the 20 all-original stories inside. The following are the tales that most stood out to me during my reading, for better or worse.
“The Kiss” by Alan Dean Foster – A woman walking through a snowy city finds a frog who says he’s a prince, so she kisses him. He turns into a guy and stabs her to death.
Oh boy, we’re not off to a great start here. This story could have been told in a page or so and been an interesting twist on the old tale, but instead the author drew it out over three pages by choosing the absolute most pretentious choice of words for every damn sentence. The guy doesn’t stab the woman, his “knife describes a Gothic arc.” She doesn’t shout or whisper or ask what’s going on, she “expels a querrelous trauma.” It’s not snowing on her face, “trifles of ice as beautiful as they were capricious tickled her exposed cheeks, only to be turned into simulacra of tears as they were instantly metamorphosed by the bundled furnace of her body.”
Yes, really.
The sheer purpleness of this prose might be excused for a deliberately lofty and overwrought tale, but it absolutely does not fit a story about a girl getting shanked by a frog on the street. If the contrast between what’s happening and how it’s presented is supposed to seem absolutely ridiculous, then it’s a success. This reads more like a writing exercise for seeing how unbearably melodramatic you can tell a simple story that the author went ahead and published anyway. I only read it last night as of the time of this particular bit of review, but I still have a headache.
“Divine Right” by Nancy Holder – A king grieving for his recently passed daughter and only heir tries to figure out how to keep his legacy from dying out and eventually decides on a way to choose a successor, sealing his decision by making a pact with God.
I really liked this one, partly for the great characterization of the king via his priorities. He’s not a bastion of righteousness or a tyrannical despot. He might be a pretty decent ruler, or he might not, depending on your priorities and the angle from which you view him. Mostly he’s written to be believable for his position and time period, pride and failings and all.
But what really sealed this story for me was the ironic bent of the plot that I can’t really discuss in any more depth without spoiling it except to say that it definitely fit with the tone and left an appropriate message. So let’s just give it a thumbs up and leave it at that.
“In the Name of the King” by Judith Tarr – If you know the story of Hatshepsut, an Egyptian queen who ruled as Pharaoh, then this is an extra interesting story. It follows both Hatshepsut and her lover in the afterlife and the legacy they’re leaving behind after their deaths, in which they take a surprisingly active interest for dead people.
If you know your history, though, you know where this is going, and it’s very touching as it gets there. It’s also character-centric in a way that makes its dead cast members seem very much alive. This one’s a good contender for my favorite story in the whole anthology.
“Please to See the King” by Debra Doyle and James D. Macdonald – A small glimpse of about one evening each into the lives of two seemingly unrelated, seemingly unimportant men against the backdrop of the battles being fought over a vague and distant rebellion against a vague and distant crown.
To say more would be to spoil the story, which is short, sweet, and interesting. It gives you just enough details, and no more, that you can piece together a much deeper story with room left for speculation about who certain characters really were and what exactly just happened. I’ve spent more time thinking about how the ending may be interpreted than it took me to read it, which is a good sign of nuance done right.
“The Name of a King” by Diana L. Paxson – This’n c’n rightf’ly b’ put in w’ th’ other st’ries I woul’n’t oth’rwise b’ther t’ mention ‘cept fer th’ o’erwrought dialectic style o’ nearly all o’ th’ dialogue, whut c’n git on yer nerves right quick-like whene’er any’ne op’ns their mouths. An’ while I’m ‘ere, th’ settin’ w’s rife wi’ plen’y o’ hints at deeper d’tails whut was ne’er sufficien’ly delved into or whut impact’d th’ actu’l plot much. Felt like part o’ a fant’sy series whut I was ‘spected t’ b’ f’miliar wit’ but wasn’t, an’ whut di’n’t give me ’nuff t’ git f’miliar wit’ just fr’m this st’ry.
Oth’rwise, t’w’sn’t t’ b’d, I s’pose. Bit borin’.
“Coda: Working Stiff” by Mike Resnick and Nicholas A. DiChario – This one was just fun. Again trying not to give away any twists or revelations, this one follows a journalist interviewing a bus driver who used to be a big, famous king back in his heyday but is now content (or so he says) with his obscure life of working a simple job in the day and drinking in his spartan home at night.
Who this ex-king really is probably isn’t who you think it’s gonna be at first, but the story does still technically, and cheekily, fit in with the premise of the book overall. It reminds me very much of something Neil Gaiman might have written, or maybe Terry Pratchett if he’d decided to tackle the kingly premise from a more modern and realistic approach.
There are still 14 stories left in here, many of which are also good reads, or at least decent. In fact, looking back through it again, the only real dud that stands out to me is “The Kiss.” The weakest of what’s left are either adaptations of stories that didn’t really do it for me (“The Tale of Lady Ashburn” by John Gregory Betancourt) or weird original works that weren’t really memorable in what they set out to do (“A Parker House Roll” by Dean Wesley Smith).
Overall, The Book of Kings is a fun and interesting romp through a number of royal worlds, themes, and tones. As such, anyone who gives it a look will probably have the same general sentiment I did at the end, with a few things to like and a few to point to as examples of what doesn’t work for them. Me, I got a bit of the inspiration I was looking for and a few memorable tales out of it, so I’ll forgive the warts.
Curiosity Quills: Chronology
Richard Roberts, Tony Healey, Piers Anthony, J.R. Rain, Jordan Elizabeth Mierek, James Wymore, Stan Swanson, Darin Kennedy , Julie Frost , Andrew Buckley , J.P. Moynahan, B. C. Johnson, J. P. Sloan, Andrew J. Rausch, Katie Young , Scott Nicholson, Wilbert Stanton, Tara Tyler, Mark W. Woodring, J. E. Anckorn, Nathan L. Yocum, G. Miki Hayden, Matthew S. Cox and Matthew Graybosch
6.0
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It's time... for time! Embark on a literary journey through the ages with Curiosity Quills Press in...
Cyn Armistead (14 KP) rated Carniepunk in Books
Mar 1, 2018
As soon as I read about this collection on Kevin Hearne's Facebook, I knew I would be buying it. I don't care for carnivals at all, and every story will be related to one in some way - but there was just no way I was going to miss an Atticus and Oberon story! I even pre-ordered the book on Amazon, the first time I've ever done that. It was SO hard not to skip right ahead and read Hearne's contribution the moment the book was in my hot little hands, but I managed some discipline.
Rob Thurman's "Painted Love" opens the book. It is dark, but to be fair it isn't quite as dark as the only Thurman novel I've read, from the Cal Leandros series. I rather liked the twist. I adored the fiercely protective older sister, especially the way she is described. I'll rate this one at three.
I don't believe I've ever read anything by Delilah S. Dawson before, certainly not anything in the Blud universe, so I had no idea what to expect from "The Three Lives of Lydia." It was a far darker story than I would generally choose to read. I found the male love interest highly appealing. The portrayal of mental illness was horrific. I found it interesting that Dawson is an Atlantan as well as a fellow geeky mom, but I'm sure that I've never heard of her before. She does have a book coming out next year that looks promising, so I may give it a read. This one's a two.
Then there is the Iron Druid story! "The Demon Barker of Wheat Street" is set a few books back in the series' chronology (two weeks after "Two Ravens and One Crow"), so Granuaille isn't yet a full Druid. To make things even more interesting, Atticus accidentally offended the local elemental many years ago, so his magic doesn't work as well as usual in the area. The story isn't vital to the series, and knowledge of the series isn't necessary for enjoying it. Hearne's fans definitely won't want to miss it, though, and it could be used as a nice little taste of his style for new readers. Definitely a five.
I couldn't make it through "The Sweeter the Juice" by Mark Henry. Zombies are disgusting, but I was way squicked before the first walking dead even appeared on the scene. A one, just because there are no zeroes.
Jaye Wells is another new-to-me author, as far as I can remember at the moment. I didn't really like "The Werewife," to be honest. There was no joy anywhere in this story. There wasn't even a hint that perhaps the couple in the story had been happy together at one time. Both of them seemed pretty miserable, and I didn't like the way it ended. It didn't seem like there was any way to give them a happy ending, but that ending didn't feel "true." It gets a two, and that's only to set it apart from the previous story.
"The Cold Girl" by Rachel Caine is about an abusive teen relationship. Oh, and vampires. I'm not a Caine fan, but this story was better than some of her other work. Again, too dark for my tastes. If half stars were possible, it would have one. I'll be nice and round up to three.
The name Allison Pang sounds familiar, so maybe I've read something by her in the past. If I did, I'm certain that it wasn't set in the same world as "A Duet With Darkness," which says it is an Abby Sinclair story. I found the main character to be an annoying, immature twit, but I'm a sucker for fiction with musical influences. The music is well-done here. I don't know if I will read anything more by Ms. Pang or not - I suppose that depends on whether or not her other work has better characters and is also musical. This one gets a four.
I found "Recession of the Divine" by Hillary Jacques fascinating. The Greek inspiration was unusual. I didn't really buy the customers being quite so unquestioning of Ophelia's state, but it wasn't a major complaint overall. I was highly disappointed to find nothing but a credit in another anthology for her. But! Reading the author profiles at the end of the book pays off, because that's how I learned that she also writes as Regan Summers. Now her works published under that name are on my to-read shelf. Another five.
Jennifer Estep's "Parlor Tricks" was actually released free on Amazon a little while back to promote Carniepunk, so it was the first story I read. I enjoy the Elemental Assassin series in general, and this story is no exception. Again, knowledge of the series is not required to understand the story, and the story is not vital to the series. It is a nice little sample, though, and I enjoyed seeing Gin and Bria having a sisterly outing. I'm probably biased, but it gets a five.
I liked Kelly Meding's "Freak House" a lot, and her name sounded familiar, but the story was set in the "Strays" universe, which I was certain I had never heard of before. I actually stirred myself to look her up, and learned that I've had one of her books on my to-read list for ages, and Strays is a new series she's just starting. Djinn, werewolves, vampires, pixies, harpies, leprechauns, skinwalkers, and more, some "out" to humans, some living hidden - what's not to love? This one gets a four.
Nicole Peeler us yet another author who sounded vaguely familiar to me, and yep, there is one of her books on my to-read list (yes, it is massive, why do you ask?). It is, in fact, the first of the Jane True books, and "The Inside Man" is set in that world. Peeler's writing style dies not flow for me, but I liked Capitola Jones and her friends Shar and Moo. As clowns are indisputably evil, I had little to complain about in the story. It gets a three.
Succubus (former?) Jezzie is the main character in Jackie Kessler's story "A Chance in Hell." Obviously, the story is set her Hell on Earth series. I had to look that up, though, because while I know you're shocked, her name did not ring any bells for me. I don't actually have ALL the urban fantasy books on my to-read or read lists! The piece opens with a confusing remark about a demon eating Jezebel's face, when that definitely is not the anatomy in question. If that's a common euphemism, it is wholly new to me. Within the next couple of pages there are multiple references to the fact that she has fallen in love with a human since becoming mortal, but absolutely no explanation of how she would reconcile sex with an incubus with her human love. As much as I would prefer that it were not the case, the default assumption in our society is that people are monogamous. Therefore, when there is a deviation from that norm, the reader expects - something. Is it supposed to demonstrate that the fictional society is different? Is the character in an explicitly non-monogamous relationship? Is her love unrequited? Is the guy dead? Do demons not count? Is she just a skanky ho? Then this great love isn't mentioned again for the rest of the story, so none of the questions raised are answered. Oh. There is, in fact, a plot here, but I was so annoyed by that stuff that I almost failed to notice it. Demonic circus, yo. The whole demon thing reminds me too much of another series I've read in the past. I can't even remember the author's name, much less the title, right now, but Kessler's work feels derivative. She gets a two.
Next up is Kelly Gay - Hey look! Another author whose name I don't recognize! - with "Hell's Menagerie," a Charlie Madigan short story. Okay, this series is set in an alternate Atlanta. As an Atlanta girl, that certainly gets my attention. And Charlie is a single mother. I don't recall any other single mothers in the UF world right off. (Kate Daniels doesn't quite count, because she adopted her daughter as a teen. Although it is interesting to note that Kate is also Atlanta-based.) I was ready to like this one, based solely on what I knew of the series. Then there was a grammatical error on the second page of the story that set my teeth on edge, one which could not be chalked up to a character's voice. Add in the fact that we get a fast, "and also, Jim" style introduction to Charlie (who isn't even present in the story!), Rex, and Emma in less than two pages, and I am officially annoyed. It isn't an old matinee movie, so surely that information could have been worked in a little more naturally? Emma won me over. Mostly. There's some, "Not another super-gifted kid," reaction, but I guess if the mother is supposed to be all that it's to be expected that the daughter might be special, too. Hmm. A three.
The last piece is Seaman McGuire's "Daughter of the Midway, the Mermaid, and the Open, Lonely, Sea." Is that title a mouthful, or what? It has the feel of a Toby Daye story, although it isn't subtitled as such, and there are no fae so maybe it isn't in that universe at all. As there are other stories in the book that are set in the same world as their author's series, yet not marked in any way, lack of a subtitle can't be taken as a negative indicator, though. In any case, the story is poignant, which I've come to expect from McGuire. I didn't really like it, but I didn't dislike it, either. I couldn't "feel" Ada in any true sense. I have the same problem with Toby. A three at best.
Overall, the book was decent. The ratings only average out to 3.21, but I'm very glad to have read the stories by Hearne and Estep. Discovering Jacques/Summers was absolutely worthwhile. I really hate that I read as much of Henry's story as I did. If I could delete that from my memory, it would probably raise the rating for everything else.
Rob Thurman's "Painted Love" opens the book. It is dark, but to be fair it isn't quite as dark as the only Thurman novel I've read, from the Cal Leandros series. I rather liked the twist. I adored the fiercely protective older sister, especially the way she is described. I'll rate this one at three.
I don't believe I've ever read anything by Delilah S. Dawson before, certainly not anything in the Blud universe, so I had no idea what to expect from "The Three Lives of Lydia." It was a far darker story than I would generally choose to read. I found the male love interest highly appealing. The portrayal of mental illness was horrific. I found it interesting that Dawson is an Atlantan as well as a fellow geeky mom, but I'm sure that I've never heard of her before. She does have a book coming out next year that looks promising, so I may give it a read. This one's a two.
Then there is the Iron Druid story! "The Demon Barker of Wheat Street" is set a few books back in the series' chronology (two weeks after "Two Ravens and One Crow"), so Granuaille isn't yet a full Druid. To make things even more interesting, Atticus accidentally offended the local elemental many years ago, so his magic doesn't work as well as usual in the area. The story isn't vital to the series, and knowledge of the series isn't necessary for enjoying it. Hearne's fans definitely won't want to miss it, though, and it could be used as a nice little taste of his style for new readers. Definitely a five.
I couldn't make it through "The Sweeter the Juice" by Mark Henry. Zombies are disgusting, but I was way squicked before the first walking dead even appeared on the scene. A one, just because there are no zeroes.
Jaye Wells is another new-to-me author, as far as I can remember at the moment. I didn't really like "The Werewife," to be honest. There was no joy anywhere in this story. There wasn't even a hint that perhaps the couple in the story had been happy together at one time. Both of them seemed pretty miserable, and I didn't like the way it ended. It didn't seem like there was any way to give them a happy ending, but that ending didn't feel "true." It gets a two, and that's only to set it apart from the previous story.
"The Cold Girl" by Rachel Caine is about an abusive teen relationship. Oh, and vampires. I'm not a Caine fan, but this story was better than some of her other work. Again, too dark for my tastes. If half stars were possible, it would have one. I'll be nice and round up to three.
The name Allison Pang sounds familiar, so maybe I've read something by her in the past. If I did, I'm certain that it wasn't set in the same world as "A Duet With Darkness," which says it is an Abby Sinclair story. I found the main character to be an annoying, immature twit, but I'm a sucker for fiction with musical influences. The music is well-done here. I don't know if I will read anything more by Ms. Pang or not - I suppose that depends on whether or not her other work has better characters and is also musical. This one gets a four.
I found "Recession of the Divine" by Hillary Jacques fascinating. The Greek inspiration was unusual. I didn't really buy the customers being quite so unquestioning of Ophelia's state, but it wasn't a major complaint overall. I was highly disappointed to find nothing but a credit in another anthology for her. But! Reading the author profiles at the end of the book pays off, because that's how I learned that she also writes as Regan Summers. Now her works published under that name are on my to-read shelf. Another five.
Jennifer Estep's "Parlor Tricks" was actually released free on Amazon a little while back to promote Carniepunk, so it was the first story I read. I enjoy the Elemental Assassin series in general, and this story is no exception. Again, knowledge of the series is not required to understand the story, and the story is not vital to the series. It is a nice little sample, though, and I enjoyed seeing Gin and Bria having a sisterly outing. I'm probably biased, but it gets a five.
I liked Kelly Meding's "Freak House" a lot, and her name sounded familiar, but the story was set in the "Strays" universe, which I was certain I had never heard of before. I actually stirred myself to look her up, and learned that I've had one of her books on my to-read list for ages, and Strays is a new series she's just starting. Djinn, werewolves, vampires, pixies, harpies, leprechauns, skinwalkers, and more, some "out" to humans, some living hidden - what's not to love? This one gets a four.
Nicole Peeler us yet another author who sounded vaguely familiar to me, and yep, there is one of her books on my to-read list (yes, it is massive, why do you ask?). It is, in fact, the first of the Jane True books, and "The Inside Man" is set in that world. Peeler's writing style dies not flow for me, but I liked Capitola Jones and her friends Shar and Moo. As clowns are indisputably evil, I had little to complain about in the story. It gets a three.
Succubus (former?) Jezzie is the main character in Jackie Kessler's story "A Chance in Hell." Obviously, the story is set her Hell on Earth series. I had to look that up, though, because while I know you're shocked, her name did not ring any bells for me. I don't actually have ALL the urban fantasy books on my to-read or read lists! The piece opens with a confusing remark about a demon eating Jezebel's face, when that definitely is not the anatomy in question. If that's a common euphemism, it is wholly new to me. Within the next couple of pages there are multiple references to the fact that she has fallen in love with a human since becoming mortal, but absolutely no explanation of how she would reconcile sex with an incubus with her human love. As much as I would prefer that it were not the case, the default assumption in our society is that people are monogamous. Therefore, when there is a deviation from that norm, the reader expects - something. Is it supposed to demonstrate that the fictional society is different? Is the character in an explicitly non-monogamous relationship? Is her love unrequited? Is the guy dead? Do demons not count? Is she just a skanky ho? Then this great love isn't mentioned again for the rest of the story, so none of the questions raised are answered. Oh. There is, in fact, a plot here, but I was so annoyed by that stuff that I almost failed to notice it. Demonic circus, yo. The whole demon thing reminds me too much of another series I've read in the past. I can't even remember the author's name, much less the title, right now, but Kessler's work feels derivative. She gets a two.
Next up is Kelly Gay - Hey look! Another author whose name I don't recognize! - with "Hell's Menagerie," a Charlie Madigan short story. Okay, this series is set in an alternate Atlanta. As an Atlanta girl, that certainly gets my attention. And Charlie is a single mother. I don't recall any other single mothers in the UF world right off. (Kate Daniels doesn't quite count, because she adopted her daughter as a teen. Although it is interesting to note that Kate is also Atlanta-based.) I was ready to like this one, based solely on what I knew of the series. Then there was a grammatical error on the second page of the story that set my teeth on edge, one which could not be chalked up to a character's voice. Add in the fact that we get a fast, "and also, Jim" style introduction to Charlie (who isn't even present in the story!), Rex, and Emma in less than two pages, and I am officially annoyed. It isn't an old matinee movie, so surely that information could have been worked in a little more naturally? Emma won me over. Mostly. There's some, "Not another super-gifted kid," reaction, but I guess if the mother is supposed to be all that it's to be expected that the daughter might be special, too. Hmm. A three.
The last piece is Seaman McGuire's "Daughter of the Midway, the Mermaid, and the Open, Lonely, Sea." Is that title a mouthful, or what? It has the feel of a Toby Daye story, although it isn't subtitled as such, and there are no fae so maybe it isn't in that universe at all. As there are other stories in the book that are set in the same world as their author's series, yet not marked in any way, lack of a subtitle can't be taken as a negative indicator, though. In any case, the story is poignant, which I've come to expect from McGuire. I didn't really like it, but I didn't dislike it, either. I couldn't "feel" Ada in any true sense. I have the same problem with Toby. A three at best.
Overall, the book was decent. The ratings only average out to 3.21, but I'm very glad to have read the stories by Hearne and Estep. Discovering Jacques/Summers was absolutely worthwhile. I really hate that I read as much of Henry's story as I did. If I could delete that from my memory, it would probably raise the rating for everything else.