Battling the enemy, magicking them away.

Publisher: (self-published)
Pages: 120
Type: Fiction
Age: Young Adult
ISBN: 978-0-985-66583-8
First Published: 13th June 2013
Date Reviewed: 6th May 2015
Rating: 3.5/5

Hitomi is an outsider in Karolene, which hasn’t stopped her joining those looking to bring peace to the island but does make her stand out to those she least wants to see. The League need to get a council member’s family to safety and whilst Hitomi is told to stay away from danger she wants to help as much as she can, even if it means getting caught.

Sunbolt is a non-quasi-European fantasy that heralds Khanani’s new fictional venture. Short and packed with subplots, it’s a little crowded but at the same time it’s a work of art.

Khanani has a way with words. Her prose is so simple it’s effortless. And it’s absolutely stunning. The text by itself has the ability to lure you into reading the book; it’s a feast for the literary senses and goes a long way to dull the effects of the less successful elements.

The novella is extremely diverse and bucks the usual trend. The story is set in a quasi-Middle Eastern land in an undefined time; there is enough detail for you to come to a decision as to the look, period-wise, that fits what you’re reading. The characters run the gambit from East Asian to Middle Eastern to Western to African – or at least those are the terms we would use (Khanani’s characters describe themselves by physical characteristics) – and magic and the supernatural is randomised. No one type of person is good or bad; the world of Sunbolt is very ‘anything goes’. This is not to say that the world itself is peaceful.

As for the story, it straddles the line between good and not so, and this is all down to the length. Action follows action and the story moves from one subplot to the next without returning to the previous as a book generally would. Because of all the running Hitomi does it can get a little wearing, especially as the story requires failed escapes to help it get to where it wants to be. Whilst, for example, the likelihood of Khanani returning in other books to the League is very high, for this particular book to feel finished one particular plot was needed. Had Sunbolt been a novel rather than a novella there is every reason to believe the story would have been excellent.

On the whole the characters are developed enough to sustain a novella, however Hitomi is lacking. It’s a difficult one. Khanani throws you straight into the action without any info-dumping, which is very welcome. She doesn’t mull over extraneous detailing – she gives you enough to form an image and then moves on. However this does mean that Hitomi’s reasoning isn’t particularly compelling. It’s believeable and understandable on a literal level, but you don’t get to see enough to care as much as you probably should. You will care somewhat because of Khanani’s attention to what’s important – it’s just this length issue again. On the subject of Hitomi, she’s easy-going which is generally brilliant but can make the text a little hard to read on occasion. There is a scene which is particularly violent and nasty for what it does – Hitomi’s mood change back to sunny indifference and slight humour is understandable when you consider that she needs to push past what’s happened, but hard to read from the reader’s point of view.

Khanani favours showing. You get a good picture of what’s around and who people are just from the dialogues and incidental sentences. There are no long rambling paragraphs. But the world building is strictly limited to Hitomi’s immediate surroundings. There are references to the Eleven Kingdoms and a political situation you only see from the chases and imprisoning. It’s third-hand info without the experience and, again, the length of the book is the likely issue. You will care about what’s going on in the scene but not the wider world.

Sunbolt extracts various elements from different eras, places, cultures, and myths, and binds them together in a not unsuccessful way. It really should have been longer but it’s a nice escape as it is. The prose is great enough that you can acknowledge the flaws whilst enjoying the ride – it’s all too easy to get lost, enveloped, in this book. The whole is very promising – it may not be a winner but it’s good enough and Khanani is one to watch.

I received this book for review from the author (Netgalley).

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Guns, outlaws, and women included.

Publisher: Shiloh Run Press (Barbour Publishing)
Pages: 309
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-630-58927-1
First Published: 1st July 2015
Date Reviewed: 3rd May 2015
Rating: 3/5

Schoolteacher Cassie loves sheriff Ben, but Ben still sees her as a child. When they are paired together, tasked with doing each other’s jobs, both are confidant they can rise to the challenge. Then there is new resident, baker Jenny, a widow with a past she’s not divulging, who is paired with another widow, stable owner Carl. Whoever does their temporary job best wins money for a certain sector or the town but it’s likely they’ll win each other, too.

The Cactus Creek Challenge is an inspirational (Christian) western romance that focuses on domestic and social relations.

The story is simple and mostly predictable but that’s no bad thing; it leaves Vetsch able to look at her other themes. There are two romances. The reader is likely to vastly prefer one to the other due to how much more natural it is. The slow burn of Carl and Jenny’s relationship is rather special and it’s written very well. The addition of Amanda, Jenny’s child, only adds to it. Yes, Amanda is included a lot and almost too talkative (in the way of info-dumping) but the relationship and development of the new family is rather lovely.

Cassie and Ben, on the other hand, is a relationship that’s more forced. There is a nice passage in which Ben realises Cassie has grown up but otherwise their relationship isn’t so believable. It’s hard to see why Cassie likes Ben, particularly when we’re told they are like siblings but never shown any true evidence of it or any friendship. The relationship rests on what we’re told, that Cassie loves Ben but she’s always moaning at him, that Ben now likes Cassie (that nice passage) but it doesn’t really blossom.

Carl and Jenny are the stand outs in this book; both work hard to do the other’s job and to understand life from that point of view. Carl’s efforts to bring Amanda out of her shell and his love for her are written brilliantly; he is a very endearing character. Jenny worries about her past but Vetsch keeps it from becoming frustrating – there is no constant pushing away as there can be in other books.

One of the problems with this book is that Cassie is a bit of a mismatch. Vetsch presents a woman who was a tomboy in her youth, a woman who loves the idea of being sheriff for a month, and who shows promise to the reader as such – and then has Cassie prettifying the jail in a way that makes no sense and bares no relation to the set-up. This second Cassie does not comprehend why Ben is angry she’s added curtains and crockery and cushions to the jail, does not understand why it’s inappropriate to have a tea party there with all the ladies of the town, whilst simultaneously wanting to be the sheriff.

In the main the story reads well, but there are a few issues. Foremost is the way two of the characters kill a kidnapper – they are worried about the child which is understandable, but there is no mention of any remorse or prayers to God, which in the context of the Christian background is difficult. The body is pulled back home and will be planted in the ground; no prayers, nothing. The man is shot and anything else is simply ignored by the text.

Otherwise religion is included well. There is one time wherein an entire hymn is included, which is a bit much and lessens the effect, but otherwise faith lingers in the background, naturally informing the character’s lives. The romantic scenes show well how a book can be perfectly steamy without the characters ever adjourning to the bedroom. Carl and Jenny’s scenes stand out as their scenes do in general, but there are some lovely moments between Cassie and Ben near the end.

Throughout the book you know there’s a fair chance of a particular event occurring – it’s something that is reported as a possibility in line with Jenny’s leaving her old home. It’s something that’s almost expected as an element. However when it comes down to it Vetsch decides to use the concept itself but place it in an entirely irrelevant context, an unimportant plot device sort of context, that could be considered frustrating due to how successful and meaningful the alternative would have been. It’s a case of close but no cigar – not bad, per se, but the alternative was so remarked upon that it does feel as though the story’s going down the wrong path.

There are continuity errors, for example a character says that a person should follow them outside and moments later the second character leaves by themselves with no mention of changing the plan. Chairs are pulled out, never to be referred to again. Part of the story is made up of accident after accident after accident. Lastly there is a great amount of info-dumping and the text is overwritten (excursions that are simply to introduce someone to the reader rather than having an actual raison d’etre).

The writing itself is strictly okay. Here again there is too much description (to paraphrase, there are lots of sentences akin to ‘he took the chair from the desk and sat on the seat’), factually inaccurate statements and anachronisms.

The Cactus Creek Challenge isn’t as refined as, say, A Bride’s Portrait Of Dodge City, Kansas, but it’s generally well set in its era and the twist of women doing the men’s work is as fulfilling as you might have hoped upon reading the blurb. It’s also a fair choice for those looking for faith in their fiction without it being a theme. It’s not going to ‘wow’ you, but you may find yourself lingering over it all the same.

I received this book for review from the publisher.

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Modelling trains, modelling parents.

Publisher: Carina Press (Harlequin)
Pages: 185
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-426-89877-8
First Published: 29th July 2014
Date Reviewed: 20th April 2015
Rating: 2.5/5

Max, the basement-dwelling potential serial killer, wants a wife. In order to find one he’s going to need to integrate himself into the community. Freelancer and waitress Tori doesn’t want a boyfriend – her parents’ awful relationship has seen to that – but she’ll play matchmaker and help Max prepare himself for the world of dating.

The final book in the Kowalski series, Falling For Max is the second non-Kowalski and a bit of a dismal end.

The main issue is Tori’s attitude to Max and the writing of him. Tori treats Max like a child. She’s patronising, dons kid gloves, and how she falls in love in this mode of mothering is hard to understand. She makes overblown assumptions about Max such as that he would be bored talking to a girl about her interests – were that so, that’s surely a sign Max shouldn’t date the girl again rather than a sign he’s no good at dating. Now it seemed to me as though Max could have Asperger’s but as it’s never said, has never seemed that way in previous books, and people call him an ‘odd duck’ which he doesn’t like and is rather offensive especially if he did have AS, I’m assuming Stacey wasn’t writing him as such.

Tori is obsessed with Max’s logical reasoning and literal understanding. It’s written as childlike, continued too long. When he’s not with Tori, Max comes across as competent, just lacking in experience; with Tori you’d think he needed to go back to school.

This begs a question: why does Max like Tori? In real life he wouldn’t. He would tell her to find another project or simply stick to being friends. There is no chemistry between them and even the sex scenes lack any spark.

There are various other smaller issues such as Rose’s demands – real life Max would’ve left when she reached offensive levels – and Hannibal Lector masks being appropriate at a child-friendly party when Black Widow is not. There is the obsession with ‘decaf’ – it can never simply be ‘coffee’ and it always must be noted that Max won’t drink it after five (this is a narration issue).

But something that does really, really really, work in this book is Stacey’s handling of Tori’s parents’ divorce. Tori, already an adult by the time the hideously ill-matched pair separate, is very much affected by it. Stacey shows how the parents’ constant slagging matches, the way they’ve wished each other dead, has had a major impact on Tori’s own life, on her relationships. The way each parent moans to Tori about the other and effectively asks her to choose a side is handled with care – as is the conclusion, the way Tori takes back control, finally in a situation where she doesn’t want their relationship blackening her own. She changes from allowing her phone to reach voicemail to taking a firm stand and whilst this may seem trivial to some and, of course, short in regards to time (as it must be due to the book’s word count) it is done with aplomb. Stacey’s careful handling could well inspire others.

Falling For Max shows that it is indeed time to finish with the Kowalskis and it does end the series on a dull note but there is much to like about Stacey’s thoughtfulness. The romance cannot be recommended but the domestic issues can.

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Youth must have some dalliance¹.

Publisher: Touchstone (Simon & Schuster)
Pages: 380
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-476-75637-0
First Published: 24th March 2015
Date Reviewed: 23rd April 2015
Rating: 3.5/5

Joanna Stafford, ex-novice of Dartford Priory has been summoned to London but when she gets there she’s led away by someone who wishes her harm. She doesn’t know who he is and is unable to find out but finding protection she stays, meeting Thomas Culpepper and later her relative, Catherine Howard. Joanna just want to live her life, but she’s a way to go before she can.

The Tapestry is the third and last book in Bilyeau’s series on Joanna. It is well written and, as always, wonderfully blended with the true history, though perhaps not as strong as the previous books.

To the writing then: it is lovely. There are no two ways about it; Bilyeau’s work makes for a good read. There are your odd phrases and words that are a little too colloquial but not glaring when considering the fact the story could hardly be written in Middle English, and Bilyeau continues to evoke the Tudor period in a very natural way; you never feel you’re being taught.

The book is slow to start, in fact the story on the whole is a lot slower than the previous. There is far less action this time around and there isn’t one definitive plotline – this isn’t all about a tapestry. It is nice in that it aids the wrapping up of the series but it does mean there are times you can easily put the book down. Given the content of the story, Joanna comes across as weaker than before though this really is more of a ‘comes across as’ rather than a reality. Sometimes the character seems to take a while to realise what will likely seem obvious to you and this is something that is difficult to either defend or criticise. On one hand Bilyeau is writing about popular history and it’s very likely the reader will know the history prior to reading, ergo you know a certain person is going to become queen number five. On the other hand you’ve got to remember that Joanna Stafford (and so, in this respect, any real person who might have been a semi or regular stranger to the court) would not have known any of it so it makes sense she would take a while to catch on. Hindsight is everything. Joanna does over-think things sometimes; it is fair to say it’s down to the reader to let things unfold as they will.

The best aspect of the novel is one shared with The Crown and The Chalice: the blending of fact and fiction. On top form as always, Bilyeau fills gaps, sometimes to an astounding degree; it’s almost cheeky the length the author goes to but it’s cheeky in a very good way. The blending is exceptional – if you’re not familiar with the series, what Bilyeau essentially does is write her fictional characters into the factual history in a way they can be added and removed without leaving a mark. And this time around, Bilyeau has aimed higher than ever, using our scant knowledge of Catherine Howard’s life to construct one possibility of who the girl was. Joanna does not change anything at a fundamental level; Bilyeau rewrites without rewriting. (This can mean that some subplots seem irrelevant and confusing for a while as Bilyeau seeks to keep the timeline in check and provide background context. The major reasons for the sub-plots become evident in time.)

There is but one element that brings the novel down a couple of rungs. Grammar issues, changing names, and missing words feature throughout the book; the text isn’t always fluid and it can be difficult to stay focused, to not be jolted from the story. The writing itself remains lovely, which is testament to Bilyeau’s talent, but the book does suffer quite a bit from the errors.

The Tapestry takes someone who is surely beloved of many Tudor fiction fans and gives her story, her journey, a firm ending. It is slow (but steady) and does have its drawbacks but it’s a fair end to the series and, no matter how many times you may have read about the history of Catherine Howard, it manages to make you feel as frustrated or sorrowful or angry as you likely did when you first found out about the situation. And that is quite the boon.

¹ Line from Pastime With Good Company by Henry VIII.

I received this book for review from the author.

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Speaking to Nancy Bilyeau about the Joanna Stafford trilogy, The Blue, and Dreamland (spoilers included)

Charlie Place and Nancy Bilyeau discuss the lifestyle of Dissolution-era nuns, using a website’s ‘contact me’ form to great success, there being more relics than there were items, using your family’s name in your work, and the grand amusement parks and luxury hotels of New York’s past.

If you’re unable to use the media player above, this page has various other options for listening.

Thrown together with you.

Publisher: Carina Press (Harlequin)
Pages: 193
Type: Fiction
Age: Adult
ISBN: 978-1-306-47223-4
First Published: 4th March 2014
Date Reviewed: 15th April 2015
Rating: 3.5/5

Taken With You is the eighth book in the Kowalski series; it focuses, however, on a family friend, Hailey and the new game warden.

The series is nearing its end and it shows. As said, the book does not feature a Kowalski as a main character, so there’s that, but at times it feels forced anyway. Stacey has said herself that there was only so far she could go before she would be writing the story of the plummer who turned up once, and she has chosen to end on Hailey and, in the ninth (last) book, Max.

There are a fair number of issues with Taken With You, enough that it is firmly in the middle of the series as far as ratings go. It’s not the ‘worst’ but it’s not the best.

One of the two major problems is the way the characters are fundamentally incompatible. They are presented this way and many readers may feel that not enough changes during the course of the story to intimate that they’d be happy in the long-term. Matt is outdoorsy and after being burned by a woman who was embarrassed by his profession he wants a wife like him. Hailey is not outdoorsy at all and wants a city man – suit, tie, regular hours. That Matt and Hailey are together at the end seems much more of a Happy For Now than a Happy Ever After (capitalised to reflect current acronyms) even though it’s presented as the latter.

Editing is the second problem. Frequent grammatical and proof-reading errors and a couple of development issues. The sheer number is hard to ignore; it affects the way the book reads.

Hailey wants her suit and tie dream husband to be cultured. She wants to go to fancy restaurants, museums, the cinema, but never do we see her pursuing any of these activities herself. She reads and cleans and meets her friends; if the culture was presented as something she could pursue only on meeting such a man it would make sense, but it isn’t. Matt, on the other hand, does live his ‘hobby’ and date dreams. He is the more developed character overall.

The sudden changes, mental changes, undergone so that this couple can stay together are jarring. Stacey doesn’t have them change who they are (which is good because you wouldn’t want that) but barring a short conversation about compromise and doing what each of them want to do there is no sign they’ll ever share the same interests. This itself is okay if not for the way they discuss it.

The small town, by this point, can seem too much. If this is the first book you read it may be okay, but as number eight there is too much living in each other’s pockets, too many utopian stereotypes and what was friendly gossip and care for those in the community is now busy-bodying. The shopkeeper is knitting a baby blanket for an unrelated baby not yet conceived nor necessarily being planned.

What is good about Taken With You is the sexual chemistry – sexually, at least, Matt and Hailey are very compatible; it’s believable. Stacey writes it well. The characters themselves are good to read, even if Matt, as Hailey rightfully says, turns into a you-know-what-hole for no reason (it’s in part his attitude in that situation that cements the general incompatibility).

As a whole package, Taken With You isn’t bad, but it’s a Kowalski without a Kowalski and sadly it shows.

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