​   This is a book that manages to be just about as much fun as its lovely title. The song of King takes you to Maine, a place his father made forever creepy and so many other author have contributed to since, this time a small island. Brody Island seems like a nice place, but then the waters rise, the power cuts off and the night envelops its denizens who, as it turns out, are almost uniformly up to no good.
    In a place that small…what are the odds? Either way, it’s going to make for a doozy of a night for June Branch, a young woman who just wants to find her boyfriend, the local deputy, and get through the night. But first June will find an axe, an ancient Viking axe, no less, powered by the tree of Yggdrasil. And then June will get to use it. Over and over and over again. You know, because otherwise the title wouldn’t work.
     Suffice it to say the last time a girl had this much fun with an axe her name was Borden. But then again, of course, on a serious note, June isn’t having any fun, she’s just trying to survive the surprisingly evil locals and the surprisingly complicated local affairs. Will she? Read and find out.
    It’s a fun read, well drawn and just right for October, but will work for the other eleven months also. Recommended.

​   Straight out of Ruth Ware’s playbook, Wild Girls sees four estranged friends get together for a birthday celebration of one of them, only to have it turn deadly.
   The eponymous wild girls have been friends for years and years and yet their friendship had taken a plunge a couple of years back over the circumstances the novel withholds from you for a long time and then reveals it…and it’s hugely disappointing.  One of those “is this it? really” sort of things, like if that’s what tore them apart, maybe it wasn’t that much of a friendship to begin with.
    But anyway, despite that anti-climatically dramatic event from their past, they find it within themselves to reconnect, a desire powered in no small way by an all-expense paid trip to Botswana. Because the friend whose birthday they are celebrating has money. And so, woo hoo, and off they go. And boy, doesn’t it seem glamourous at first. Despite the creepily named resort. Despite the fact that there’s no one there to greet them. Despite the creepy personal notes left for them.
     The wild girls don’t care, they are all in a ‘girls just wanna have fun’ mode. They want to forget their lives for a moment and why wouldn’t they. One of them is unhappy in her relationship and trapped with an oppressing shared mortgage, one is tired to death of her new baby, and one is just depressed and alone.
    Everyone drinks accordingly and everyone takes their time realizing their situation is far from normal. Then the body count begins.
     Suffice it to say this wasn’t the vacation any of them had in mind. But it might be exactly what you as a reader had in mind in selecting this easy breezy beach read of a thriller. I mean, exotic location – check. Relatable in a women’s fiction or chicklit way characters – check. Plot twist -check, two of them, in fact.
     It underwhelms conceptually, because of the hyperbolic quality of the antagonists and their motivations, but if you don’t overthink it, it is a fun read. It works the formula well and provides a sufficient diversion. Yes, it doesn’t sustain the promise of the initial setup and yes, the melodramatics are kinda cheap and cheesy at times and yes, it’s characters are all cardboard clichés of specific preset types, but overall, it works and does what these sorts of books are supposed to…entertains. Thanks Netgalley.

​    Most vampire fiction gets vampires wrong. Or at least, it creates vampires I don’t care for or about, glamorous nihilists drunk on decadence or brooding forever-teens. And so, it’s always a pleasure and sometimes an event when someone gets vampires right. And this book came tantalizingly close.
    Its protagonist, Lydia, a 23-year-old woman freshly on her own after spending all of her life with an oppressive and mean mother, it trying to find her way in the world and, mostly, just trying to eat. The title…it’s apt.
     Lydia’s mom is a self-loathing vampire, a quality she tried to instill in her daughter, referring to themselves as demons, unworthy, etc. There’s no logical explanation to how her mother was able to get pregnant with her (by a regular, non-vampire father) and have a child and then turn the child into a vampire as a baby and have her grow to adulthood…that’s just kinda there for you to suspend your disbelief and go along with. But now that Lydia’s 23, she is done growing, she just needs blood to sustain her life.
     The thing is…her mother raised her on animal blood they’d get from a local butcher, but now that avenue is closed, and Lydia can’t line up a new supply and so she’s hungry. Terribly, terribly hungry.
    She’s also trying to set up a new life for herself, by renting an art studio she also sleeps in, making new friends in the building and working an internship at a trendy gallery with a creep for an owner.
     So, in a way it’s a coming-of-age story too. An aspect that easily overshadows the vampire thing. Lamentably so, because reading about a character with a very unusual set of personal challenges is considerably more interesting than reading about a Gen Z artist trying to make her way through life. The latter is practically New Adult or at least very hipstery and the entire production is certainly very hip, but it stretches itself thin with insubstantiality, much like Lydia’s attempts at abetting her appetites with powdered blood.
     This would have made a dynamic novella, as a novel, even a relatively short one, it leaves something to be desired. There’s too much concentration on the awkward romantic subplot with an awkward romantic lead who speaks in unfinished sentences. There’s a MeToo workplace situation nod. But overall, the novel seems to skirt its most fascinating aspects in favor of the quotidian ones. It’s a nicely written book, especially for a debut, original and has a great ending, but it’s also young in slightly emo, Twilight generation way. So, something of a mixed bag, but at least a quick read. Thanks Netgalley.

​  The South is a destination I’d only consider literary and even then, not always. And yet there was something about this book that spoke to me. The impossible daredevilish freedom of its characters, their wild disregard for gravity and insistence at defying it, defying the odds.
    Wingwalkers, barnstormers, the early aviators of the 1900s, were a breed onto themselves. Some people, it seems, have waited so long to take flight and once such a possibility presented itself, they simply were unable to resist it. Such was the case for the Falkner boys, the oldest of whom, Bill, would grow up to add a U to his name and become a giant of Southern literature. Although, somewhat ironically, in real life a man was so short in stature that he had to lie, beg and plead to get into the air force.
    Not being a huge fan of The South, I’ve actually never read Faulkner, but now I can say I read a lot about him, he’s one of the major characters here and the novel uses a lot of biographical information to present a life that was larger and stranger than fiction.
     The other two protagonists are a couple madly in love, he’s a war veteran and an aviator, she a much younger woman who joins him on his adventures falling in love with both him and the flight itself. Della dreams of going west, being in the movies, doing stunts, but Zeno is reluctant to venture out that far and odds are their old beat-up place won’t make it that far either. So, they are flying around the south along with their adorably pup Sark in his own pair of aviator goggles, entertaining the locals for pittance, until the famous exposition with flying stunts that seems to be a catalyst for their relationship, while also presenting their possibly one and only chance at getting enough money to buy their own plane.
   It is there that they meet Faulkner. Quite late in the story. Otherwise, the two narratives travel on separate paths, united mainly by their passion for flying.
    It’s a lovely story, a lovely work of literary fiction. Every so often there’s just a turn pf phrase that makes you go, wow, that’s how it’s done. The characters are terrific, likable, charming, engaging. And from a historical fiction perspective, the novel does an excellent and credible job of representing depression-era America at its dustiest and daring. Great book. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.
   

​    What’s an Edinburgh solicitor doing writing neo-noir set in Cooper, Nebraska? Ah, but that’s the beauty of fiction, isn’t it - it’s transporting power. The closest to teleportation our civilization may ever come.
    What’s in Cooper, Nebraska? Not much, actually, it’s a typical small-town USA and much like Nebraska of popular imagination it’s as down and dirty and bleak as this story depicts it. Not the sort of place you’d end up in by choice, but then again, the novel’s protagonist, a disgraced detective Levine, doesn’t really get much of a choice. The man failed pretty epically in Washington, DC and, for his sins, is sent to the purgatorial Cooper, where he promptly gets involved in another ethically and morally questionable situation, dirty cops, a serial killer and all.
    Levine might have thought Cooper to be just a backwater nowhere, but it’s more than that, the murky waters hide a quicksand beneath them…the more he tries to come clean, the more it drags him under. And that’s basically the story without giving away too much.
     I categorized it as neo-noir, but it doesn’t quite maintain the same class throughout, it’s darker, heavier, dirtier, and got a hypermasculine tough-guy sort of presence that took some getting used to. Overall, and especially for a debut and especially for such a far stretch (for a solicitor…nothing about law here, just lawlessness), it’s decently done, even if over seasoned with a very specific blend of tough-guy testosterone. Read pretty quickly and entertained sufficiently. Bleak, very bleak. You can tag it…a crime drama as bleak as Nebraska. Thanks Netgalley.

​     I love reading internationally and Australia is usually good for a terrifying outback adventure, but this is something completely different…a story that takes the readers back in time and presents life in the country from an Aboriginal perspective.
    That alone should tell you it isn’t going to be a conventionally happy story or an easy read. Since historical events are the same world-over for people who recognize patterns, the living conditions of the Aboriginal people of Australia should surprise no one, for they strongly echo those of The First People in Canada or Native Americans in the US. The white men came and imposed they rule, the local natives were brutally forced into submission, assimilation, etc. Deprived of basic rights. Made second class citizens, at best. It’s horrific, deplorable and (for the misanthropes, at least) all too accurately representative of the ways of the world.
    In Australia in 1960/1961 when this novel takes place, The Aboriginal people were more or less at the mercy of the merciless state, subjugated, oppressed, and limited in many ways of life. This is a story of one such family, a grandmother, Odette, and her beloved twelve-year-old granddaughter, Sissy. Sissy’s mother never told anyone who Sissy’s father was, she had her daughter young and then took off. Whoever he was, he was obviously a white man, so the girl grew up blonde and with fair enough of a complexion to pass for a titular white girl. It is this crucial fact that allows Odette to make a desperate play for freedom from under the thumb of the fascist-like new local police officer and, pretending to be her grandchild’s nanny, take them both to the city, to try to find a happier fate.
      This might be the first story I’ve read told from an Aboriginal perspective and it was as emotionally devastating, engaging and poignant as a story like that ought to be. Such a great character driven drama with such likable, strong, compelling characters. A quiet story in a way, but one that really draws you in and makes for an excellent read. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.

​    Carter Wilson is a thriller writer I’ve come to enjoy reading enough to acquire his new books on name recognition alone, as was the case here. Wilson isn’t the most consistent author, but, although he’s seldom great, he’s always, reliably, good and that’s pretty impressive in and of itself, a built-in quality control of sorts.
    With his latest, he is, once again, good, very good. At least for the first two thirds on the novel, the last one can strike readers this way or that.
     So, the wealthy denizens of Bury are getting a new neighbor. Bury’s a place Wilson already created and established before, so this is a revisit, after all a town with a name that creepy deserves one. The neighbor’s name is Aidan, he’s a recent widower, his beloved wife suddenly died and now at 35 he finds himself devastated and unmoored, but since he has two young kids to take care of, he can’t allow himself to unravel, so he does the next best thing…buys a new life. The reason he can do this isn’t his prowess as a bartender, it’s his winning lottery ticket. The win he, eerily, finds out about on the day of his wife’s funeral. Now Aidan, who has always, at best, threaded water, is a multimillionaire, and so he goes out and buys a mansion suited for one. A place that used to belong to a family that had mysteriously vanished. Does that factor creep Aidan out? Apparently not. It puzzles him, though, makes him want to solve the mystery, until a mystery of his own crops up in form of increasingly threatening letters.
      Is someone merely after his wealth or is here something more sinister at play here? Well, read and find out.
      It stands to mention that Aidan in his grief (his multilevel grief spiked by guilt as it turns out) is something of an unreliable narrator, increasingly so as the novel progresses, so it adds to the general WTF*ckery of his situation. Staying authentic to his Irish blood, he drinks too much, which muddles his existence. But overall, he’s a nice guy, someone you want to succeed and so you read on.
      By now, with so many thrillers under his belt, Wilson has gotten the formula down perfectly. Short chapters, each ending in the way that you simply have to read the next, the novel zooms by, the last third in a somewhat hallucinogenic state of uncertainty, but still…There’s a nice plot twist in the end too. Likable characters, etc. Although it stands to mention one of Aidan’s seven year old twins, Bo, seems/talks almost distractingly mature for his age. Overall, a very engaging production that’ll certainly have you turning the pages.
      It is very disappointing the way a central mystery of Aidan’s new place is introduced and then left unsolved. I definitely would have loved more on that, it seems like a more interesting secret to uncover than Aidan’s own letters situation, in fact. But alas, the author chose not to. We’re given the story he wanted to tell, the mystery he wanted to solve, and that’s perfectly fine and mostly sufficient. Makes for a fun and entertaining character driven suspense thriller. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.

​This book doesn’t come out until January 2022, though it appears perfectly themed for nonfiction October pick. That’s what this advanced copy was for me, anyway, so now I’m the first person to rate and review it. Even had to create a listing for it on GR.
   So, let’s talk about the book…first off, it’s really good. The publisher tends to specialize in military themes, but lately they’ve been going off the beaten path and veering in all sorts of (to me) much more interesting and entertaining directions. Like this book. To be fair, the tone of it isn’t quite the jocularly charming one of their traditional diversions, but it’s nowhere near pedantic. What you get is a well-informed, well-presented and, despite the numerous digressions all of which with a purpose, pleasingly concise book that offers exactly what the title promises.
    Since proverbially there’s nothing new under the sun, it shouldn’t surprise you to find out that the modern ideas we have of wizards, witches and fairies are actually based on centuries of historical past (some factual, some invented) and have profound and elaborate sociocultural bases. It is these winding paths that the author so expertly travels in this book from prehistoric constructs to much more recent ideas.
    Pointy hats (or horned helmets) and magic wands will be explained, fairies will be linked to long-gone ancestorial branch, witches will be culturally contextualized. And, because of the excellently meandering ways of this book, it’ll take you from the beginning of civilization to present day and span an impressive variety of subjects, continents, eras, etc. A most striking accomplishment for such a slender tome, this book will not only educate and entertain, it’ll actually give you an entire new and informed framework for thinking about the cultural history of things we find ubiquitous in modern culture, be it fantasy tales or October window decorations and customs. Excellent read. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.

​   A raggedy motley crew of desperate individuals signs on for a fishing boat gig in Bering Strait, their nets scoop up something otherworldly and soon they find themselves in the middle of a terrifying nightmare of Poseidon proportions.
   It wouldn’t have been a nice trip anyway. None of them may be pure soul, but there is one among them that’s pure evil. With a supernatural element added on, it’s a real doozy. One way ticket to watery oblivion.
   And that’s the story. Perfectly themed for October, but good enough to disturb you on any dark night. This is pretty much a how-to manual on disturbing. Some of it is done in a manner so profoundly visceral, that it was too much for this reader. But that aside, the quality of writing here is absolutely top shelf. It’s a character driven story, and while it’s also definitively a creature feature, it doesn’t rely on the cheap ploys of the latter, instead taking the much-preferred measured approach to unleashing its terror.
     A slender volume, 200 pages of lean mean frights at sea that’s impressively effective, this book works and works well on many levels, so prepare for a sea adventure that doesn’t so much sing Sail Away to you as makes you profoundly happy to be a landlubber safe on land.
     Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.

​  If a socially conscious, socialism leaning, well-educated, precociously stylistic, hopelessly romantic millennial was somehow magically turned into a book…this would have been the result.
   Which is to say it is about as tolerable as you would find such a person. But also, strangely compelling. Quite a bizarre combination. Under all the stylistic flair which includes weirdly formatted pages where the text takes up only about 3/4th of the page lined up in a neat vertical columns, there is actually a proper story.
    The story features two characters, Sam and Eleanor. They are somewhere in their early 30s, somewhere in NYC, trying to get by in the world increasingly hostile to bare survival. Sam is underemployed, but he’s good in bed and in the kitchen, so Eleanor floats the bills for most of the story.  They are very much in love, though they are smart enough to be justifiably terrified by the world around them.
    The story is presented by a sort of omniscient narrator, who, along with the characters, tends to go on these elaborate sociopolitical tangents chronicling the decline of the country around them. These are actually surprisingly good, often the highlights of the entire production, because they are so (sadly) accurate that they create a nicely apocalyptic ambiance for the entire production. It’s a slow apocalypse, like the proverbial boiling of a frog, the water gets hotter slowly enough that people continue to tread it.
      Sam especially is completely hampered by college loans, so there’s much discussion of that. But there are other things, like race, politics, etc. And while you may disagree with the novel’s distinctly socialism take on them, the facts are undeniably there for you to draw your own depressing conclusions. Or not, presumably, since we do live in the country that has a peculiar disdain for facts.
     The thing with this novel is that normally I likely would find it tediously precocious, over-stylized, over-done, and yet there’s something so nice and refreshing and relatable about having someone be terrified and appalled by the state of things the way one, by all rights, ought to be…that it kind of acts as the book’s saving grace.
      Overall, from a purely fictional perspective this may not be the greatest novel and it certainly won’t be to everyone’s liking, although it’s terribly hip and is sure to gather acclaim that way, but it is undeniably an excellent representation of its time and its generation and on that merit alone it works very nicely. The end of the world is nigh, don’t be alone, find someone to love. Find a book to read. Thanks Netgalley.