​Ah, finally, popcorn sci-fi at its best. KPS is Scalzi doing what Scalzi does best – lighthearted humorous otherworldly adventure.
Jamie, the protagonist with easy every guy appeal, gets hit by the 2020 economic recession more than most: his penis of a boss fires him in a most unceremoniously humiliating manner and Jamie spends six months delivering food to the shut-ins, masked and annoyed. And then, one of his regular customers changes his life by offering him a job. Not just any job - an opportunity of a lifetime. Great pays, great perks, and he gets to work with large animals.
A description that turns out to be hugely inadequate for the job.
The large animals KPS deals with are not like any you’ve seen. On this Earth, anyway. Outside of movies that is. You have indeed seen them in movies, but you were calling them monsters then. Think Godzilla and company. Yeah, those large animals.
Oh multiverse, what secrets you possess…
So, now it’s a grand adventure with giant monsters. And an entertaining one at that. Yes, the last third with the villain reveal and all those plot convolutions dragged ever so slightly and yes, every single character came across alike due to the exactly same trademark Scalzian glib jocularity, which can create a sort of one-note tonality, but overall, its’ just pure fun. Popcorn, cheesy popcorn, giant monster fun of a novel and a very enjoyable read. Unless you’re one of those weirdos who doesn’t love giant monsters and then there’s nothing to tell you what joy is. Recommended.

​Well, how can you resist a cover like that? Or a cutely clever title like that? Seriously? Apartment living is a naturally horrific thing – the neighbors, the landlords, the noise, etc. – but Antisocial Housing takes it to new heights.
So yeah, this is one of those cosmic horror on a housing estate situations. Lightly humorous approach to a gore-splattered scenario and oodles of tentacled fun all around. All with a distinctly British flavor.
My first book by the author and a very nice introduction indeed. Quick one sitting read at just 89 pages and a fun one at that. Recommended for genre fans. Thanks Netgalley.

​Once upon a time, before the world was all mapped out and figured out, there were mysteries out there. Lands unknown and kingdoms undiscovered.
The best thing about fiction is its stubborn refusal to be curtained or in any way limited by reality. Fiction can take you as far as imagination can go. And this collection will take you places you never knew existed. Literally. Places freshly made up by a number of very talented authors specifically for this anthology.
Ranging from science fiction to fantasy to magic realism to horror and beyond, these stories imagine distant worlds on this or other planets, giving you, the reader, an opportunity to have the most exciting sort of armchair traveling experience.
Yes, it took me a moment to get into this collection, the first two stories didn’t quite do it, but afterwards, it was one winner after the next. Such cleverly crafted, well-written, exciting adventures.
I’m not even sure I have favorites, there were so many. Vaughn, Yu (both), Buckell, Finlay and more. Even Seanan McGuire who normally doesn’t work for me due to its overwhelming YA-ness was really good here.
Overall, a great read. Recommended for every intrepid armchair traveler and everyone who looks at maps wishing for more. Thanks Netgalley.

​I should have probably paid closer attention to the kind of author this was – the kind that writes testosterone driven actioneers for out-of-shape dads who dream in macho everywhere. But no, this book grabbed my attention at Dyatlov Pass and that was it.
Dyatlov Pass is one of those wild real-life mysteries that simply boggles the mind. There was a proper book about it, even a speculative movie adaptation about it, and now there’s this…tangentially connected bombastic thriller.
Dyatlov Pass here is a mere plot driver in a way that it might have been any other similar place. The concept is neat but not wildly original. Tomorrow’s War recently explored similar theme in a similarly bombastic military action style cinematic bonanza.
The book is more original that its title at least, though. Do you know how many books share that title? So many.
And here you have it again – the race to save the civilization, with all the action and all the guns and all the army vehicles and such a book like this would have.
Not at all my thing, although objectively speaking this book was pretty well done for the sort of book it was. Solid on all accounts with nothing egregiously stupid or gratuitously violent getting in the way of telling a story. If action is your thing (especially, high-stakes apocalyptic-flavored action), you’ll probably love this novel. It has a very cinematic sort of style to its high-octane narrative that works well and makes it a dynamic read. The sense of place, be it snowy mountains or sandy deserts is done very well too.
Overall, a decent, decently entertaining read. Not quite as desired or expected for this specific reader, but plenty of thrills for others, likely. Dyatlov Pass remains a mystery. Thanks Netgalley.

​The thing about Middle Ages is that it was already horrific enough. Most things about it – hence the dark ages. Ages away from the Enlightenment in so many ways. So as far as lending itself to genre fiction, it’s pretty much a gimmie. Still, to their credit, the authors in this anthology did a great job – the went far and wide, spanning continents and cultures, upturning conventions and making the build-in darkness shine with a new gleam.
Did I love it? Not quite. I did appreciate it, though.
I’ve been in a strange mood lately where it’s difficult to gauge my reading desires precisely. I figured this might do the trick and it didn’t. Trying to stay objective enough to separate it into what is and what isn’t the books’ direct fault.
The stories took me a while to get into, not until number four, in fact, did it pique my interest properly. The overall quality was solid, with a few gems here and there, the titles of which promptly left my mind as these things are wont to do.
Mostly unknown authors from what sounds like a really fun publishing collective. Out of the knowns, there was Goodfellow, Evenson. Buehlman (the man who needs no introduction) provides the introduction.
It stands to mention that as far as anthologies go, this one is put together awesomely. It’s lovingly curated like a museum exhibit with a brief wink-wink-nudge-nudge intro and an artwork preceding each entry. Even every contributor gets drawn for the author’s bio section. Very cute.
So, didn’t quite sing for me. Maybe not the right era, Maybe not the right mood. But interesting and entertaining in its own right. Won’t send you howling with joy, but won’t send the villagers with pitchforks after it either. Thanks Netgalley.

​For some reason I was under the impression this was yet another one of those ladies’ thrillers. But no, awesomely not. This is very much a literary novel and a very good one at that.
Clever through and through from the dual-meaning title to the terrific moebius strip of a plot, this is indeed a novel of obsession.
First love is complicated. For the novel’s protagonist, Naomi, it comes relatively late, at 24, and challenges her to the extreme.
Sure, her beloved seems like a great find, best Tinder can offer, really, with UK accent, a good job, and good manners, and yet she can’t seem to just enjoy things as they come. Maybe it’s her aspiring novelist’s brain, maybe it’s her privilege-based (free rent in NYC, well-to-do family, easy mindless bookstore job to whole the time away) mentality, but Naomi becomes obsessed with her new love’s old love.
This obsession drives her (and the novel) and the fictional novel in her mind to push all sorts of boundaries, privacy based and otherwise, until she insinuates herself quite permanently in both worlds. And then the two worlds begin bleeding through and there’s so much than mere trust to be tested.
This is the ultimate in Life Imitates Art, Art Imitates Life storytelling. Meta, too. Twisted onto itself.
Everyone is obsessed with creative their own narrative, but Naomi takes it to new levels. And, like most things of extreme nature, it’s fun to watch in that impending crash sort of way.
The protagonists’ age, angst, and ambiance put them firmly into the millennial camp, but the book overrides that innately unlikeable generational distinction into something closer to universality.
Obsession, after all, is universal. To want, to crave, to spiral, to look for patterns in the fabric of life, to look for logic where none is too be found and then create your own.
Be it in the name of love or in the name of art, be it by design or pathology, it’s a force to be reckon with. Read this book and find out how Naomi does. Like a good obsession, it’ll draw you right in.
It’s clever, charming, very well-written and well worth a read. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.

​ This book had so much promise. I loved the concept – a wild What If scenario from the bygone age of cinema, directly at the intersection of supernatural and noir, a mystery with otherworldly undertones.  I can’t even quite decide what failed in the execution here and I’m perfectly willing to put this down as one of those reader/writer incompatibility things, and yet…
Ok, so more words. Plot related words.
Imagine if Chandler (one of mysteries’ greats) and Karloff (one of Frankenstein fame) were pals. Besties, even. It’s possible, the two were contemporaries and their paths had plenty of opportunities to intertwine. Imagine if they set off to solve a crime. Imagine if that crime had supernatural flavor to it. So far so good, right? Now, set that in a WWII era LA, the place where fantasies come to be cinematized, and behold…it ought to be spectacular. Or at least a spectacle.
Why did it fall so flat? No idea. It wasn’t the writing itself, probably more to do with the plotting. It began nicely, but then it’s like it tried to do too many things at once or tried to cram several different stories into one.
Something strangely disjointed about the narrative, it was either too busy, too tangential, or too convoluted. For me, the reading experience was kind of like a bunch of words that worked individually but didn’t make up the sentences quite right. Very odd.
Unlike Frankenstein’s monster, made up of many separate aspects into a cohesive sum total, this novel didn’t manage the same trick.
Again, probably a very personal sort of disconnect, so take it as such.
Overall, pretty disappointing. And a much longer read that it ought to have been by page count alone. Thanks Netgalley.