The Top 15 Books of 2010

Well, folks, the close of another year is upon us. It flew by, and I'm definitely looking forward to 2011.

I started reviewing books on this blog back in July, and over the last six months it's been my pleasure to read countless fantastic creations by new and up-coming authors. Now, with January 1st only two days away and no more reviews to post before the new year, I'd like to present my year-end best-of list.

These are the top fifteen rated books I've gone through this year, in ascending order. All the writers I've had the pleasure of reading did a fantastic job, but these, to me, are the cream of the crop, the best of the best.

So here we go...

#15 - Roman Hell by Mark Mellon (4.5) - A fascinating journey into history, where witchcraft and elder gods rule the roost of ancient Rome.

#14 - Down the Drain by Daniel Pyle (4.5) - A short and creepy exploration into what it means to be molested by a bath tub.

#13 - 33 A.D. by David McAfee (4.5) - Vampires in Jerusalem, fighting the onset of Christianity? Yes, please. Best vampire book in years.

#12 - The Weight of Blood by David Dalglish (4.5) - The rest of this list is a little Dalglish-heavy, and with good reason. TWoB is an introduction to Harruq and Qurrah, the half-orc brothers who've captured my attention. Not as good as the rest, but still a fantastic beginning to a violent and emotional series.

#11 - Powerless: The Synthesis by Jason Letts (4.5) - Innocent and full of self-discovery, this first book in Letts' series tugs at the heartstrings and really makes you care.

#10 - The Venom of Vipers by K.C. May (4.6) - An exploration into what it means to be human that goes well beyond the mundane and plays upon the fear that our legacy as a people might not be all it's cracked up to be.

#9 - The Death of Promises by David Dalglish (4.7) - This is where the half-orc series jumps in scope. It becomes larger than life, epic even, and the fun to be had inside its pages is plenty.

#8 - The Shadows of Grace by David Dalglish (4.7) - The penultimate book in the series, which brings the storyline (almost) full circle.

#7 - Pale Boundaries by Scott Cleveland (4.8) - A science fiction adventure that presents an alternate look at society and the treachery that may lay behind many social and ecological restrictions.

#6 - Firefly Island by Daniel Arenson (4.8) - Innocent and dark at the same time, this fantasy adventure snatches you up by the heartstrings and lets you know just how much the choices we make in life matter.

#5 - Hollowland by Amanda Hocking (4.8) - A fantastic journey into the zombie apocalypse genre from a female perspective. Violent, bloody, and full of heart, it's what horror should be.

#4 - Cameo and the Highwayman by Dawn McCullough-White (4.8) - Tortured women, tortured men, and an underlying theme of the damage we do to each other make this one hell of a great book.

#3 - Have Gun, Will Play by Camille LaGuire (4.9) - The most surprising addition to my favorites list, a western mystery that sucks you in from the first page, makes you laugh, cringe, and thump your head on the wall, then spits you out on the other side feeling like you've just read something great.

#2 - A Dance of Cloaks by David Dalglish (5.0) - The author takes a departure from his series to give us a story of intrigue and mob culture under the guise of a far-away fantasy realm.

And finally...

#1 - The Cost of Betrayal by David Dalglish (5.0)

This is a perfect book. It's gritty and emotional, with one of the best, most heart-wrenching endings I've ever read. As I said in the review, this is one of the greatest books I've read in all my life, and the easy choice for best of 2010.

Note: This list is only for novels, but I'd also like to mention Lessons by Michael Crane, a collection of ultra-short horror stories, and Shock Totem Magazine Issue 2, as they are very strong, as well.

All the books I've read this year I've enjoyed immensely, and remember, as I said, these are only the best of the best. If you want to see more, simply look through the listing of reviews. You're sure to find something worthwhile. I guarantee it.

I hope everyone has a happy and productive 2011! I know I sure as hell will.

Review: Cameo and the Highwayman by Dawn McCullough-White

Rating: 4.8 out of 5

I love it when a writer gets it. When you read an early piece, enjoy it greatly, yet think they could do better. Then you pick up their next book, and it improves on the first tenfold. Most things you would’ve changed have been altered. The emotion runs higher than ever. It’s exhilarating.

It is also how I felt reading Cameo and the Highwayman by Dawn McCullough-White.

The story picks up where Cameo the Assassin leaves off, with Cameo (the undead assassin), Black Opal (the gun-toting, rapier-swinging dandy of a highwayman) and Kyrian (the son of a priest who the previous two had been charged with protecting) heading for the island kingdom of Shandow. They had lost their friends and fellow travels in the first book, killed by a fellow assassin named Jude (who they’ve left for dead) and Cameo’s vampire master, Haffef.

Once arriving in Shandow, Cameo is approached by another vampire, Edel, who also has Haffef to thank (or curse) for his current state. Edel, seeking company after centuries of loneliness, enthralls Cameo and holds her captive in his home – a magically concealed partition of the mansion belonging to Shandow’s royal family. This leaves Opal and Kyrian alone, and gives Cameo ample time to sit with her thoughts, isolated from everyone, and reflect upon the situation her life (or un-life) has lead her to.

And this, readers, is where the book does more than shine.

Just as in the first book, Cameo remains a metaphor for the abused woman. However, whereas in Cameo the Assassin she takes a back seat to other, more fleshed-out and interesting characters, in this one she takes center stage. She bemoans her loss of humanity. She hates both what she’s become and what she might someday be. She wants love – longs for it – and yet finds it hard to give in to that most personal of emotion. She is damaged, and in some ways she thinks that to show affection to another would be to pass that emotional mutilation on to them.

Which is what makes the relationship between she and Black Opal so intriguing. Theirs is a relationship rooted in base needs – the need for companionship, the need to know that no matter how much of a horror they might have become, there is someone else who shares their pain. Just the simple act of looking in the mirror proves this out. Cameo does so, and she sees a woman scarred, both physically and emotionally, by her past. And Opal, with his smallpox scars and dead eye, echoes as such. And yet, when they look at each other, neither notices the faults. All they see is the chance for camaraderie and sensuality – which Opal is more than willing to give, though Cameo needs a bit more convincing. She is still running away from her past, and starts to make great strides towards remedying this, though at the end it is proven how much internal growth she still has to make. This being said, the scenes of their intimacy are both subtle and heartbreaking.

Speaking of Opal, he is the subject of the book’s second major theme, and this one I found even more captivating than the burgeoning love between two broken people. It seems he’s done some horrible things in his past – actions whose consequences are wide-reaching enough to affect Cameo, herself. He has lived his life trying to cover up his deeds, and when they are revealed, he fears the undead woman he loves will no longer want him. Interestingly enough, this is his major concern. He ends up facing death, and all he can think about is how much the disclosure of his deeds will affect her. It’s beautiful, and it rings true to life. I know I’ve thought this way when contemplating some of my past regressions. Sometimes, the big picture is dwarfed by the smaller, more intimate one.

This is where the story becomes surprising – though I guess it shouldn’t be. Cameo finds out about these dastardly exploits, and she doesn’t care. To her, Opal isn’t the man he’d been. He’s become something new, something she doesn’t want taken away from her. This level of forgiveness is intense in its scope, and begs the question: Are we defined by our past, and can we ever make amends?

The answer might not be so simple. In the story, we see that Opal is still haunted mentally by his perceived misdeeds, and it is made all the more painful by the fact these actions were made with honorable intent. It’s the results that were unfortunate. So how can his past be absolved if he can’t absolve himself? This is the dichotomy facing all the characters, and also shows their inherent blindness. Cameo, for her part, forgives him, and yet she, too, tortures herself for the things she’s done. It’s fascinating, and a great psychological study. I’m not sure if the author has a background in this sort of thing, but the way the story reads, the way the character’s motivations are revealed, says that if she hasn’t, she is surely an extremely bright storyteller. It would take one to pull something like this off.

The writing style is brisk and fast-paced. I finished the book in less than two days. Chapters flow into each other beautifully. If I have one complaint – and this is something I feel a duty to reveal – it’s that there is still a lot of head-hopping. To be honest, it surprisingly didn’t bother me in the slightest this time (probably because the story is so expertly crafted and flows without a hitch), but I need to be fair and consistent here. However, there are no in-paragraph switches as far as I could tell, so the point loss is minimal.

That small glitch aside, this is a brilliant book, one of the five best I’ve read since starting this review blog. As a reader, I tend to gravitate more to emotional threads than anything else, and there were a few times over the course of reading Cameo and the Highwayman that I started to get teary-eyed. So bravo there.

This is an excellent novel, one that deserves to be read. It’s meaningful and has something important and revealing to say. And yet I’ve read far less skillfully crafted novels that outsell it. Perhaps this is simply a matter of exposure. Who knows. It is my hope, however, that people will read this review and jump at the chance to read this book – and the first one, as well. They’re both worth the miniscule amount of money it would take to buy them.

Dawn McCullough-White is a fresh face in literature, one that I hope succeeds. It’s time we recognize those who have something interesting to say and push their books to the forefront. This reviewer, for one, would find his life a lot less full complete if I hadn’t read her work.

Plot - 10

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 8

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 48/50 (4.8/5)

Purchase Cameo and the Highwayman for the Amazon Kindle

Review: Cameo the Assassin by Dawn McCullough-White

Rating: 4 out of 5

At the end of the day, the art of writing fiction comes down to simply this: telling a good story. Sometimes there are other aspects involved, other points to be made. Yet, if those points of contention aren’t held within the framework of a tale interesting enough for the reader to endeavor, they will be words used for naught. They will remain unread.

More on this later.

First of all, it’s synopsis time. Cameo the Assassin is the story of, well, an assassin named Cameo. She is a woman with eyes white as a corpse, the best killer of a group called simply The Association. She resides in her tower when not off stalking her next victim, drinking copious amounts of liquor and being generally a miserable sod. She is a legend in her time, seemingly much older than she appears, never questions orders, and uses very unusual (and unknown to her employer) methods of both finding her prey and keeping herself safe.

Cameo seems content to live out her life in whatever perverse way she can, until she runs into a pair of highwaymen (coach robbers) while they hold up her carriage. These two men are named Black Opal, a “dandy” who wears too much makeup and enjoys women’s clothes (seemingly in an attempt to compensate for his scarred appearance) and Bellamy, a lawyer-slash-poet-slash-playwright turned criminal. When our heroine meets these two, and falls into line with them, her known life takes a turn for, if not worse, at least very, very different.

It is with these two characters, and one who comes later, that the joys of this little tale are met. Cameo herself is a one-note creation – and she has to be, especially when one considers her backstory – and cannot carry the novel on her own. Which is why having two enjoyable, fleshed-out characters such as Opal and Bel is important. In many ways, they steer the plot more than the main character. Cameo does what she does because she doesn’t have a choice in the matter. Opal and Bel, however, have free will, and they use that will to choose and follow a dangerous killer, for reasons of love. This is beautiful, it is necessary, and it’s also interesting, because many times it’s hard to figure out who exactly loves who. That guessing game in particular is quite fun.

The world that Dawn McCullough creates is one of magic and monsters, along with the type of technology one might see at the beginning of the nineteenth century. There are vampires, witches, corrupt royalty, and killers for hire, all plotting, both together and separately, to bring down our small band of antiheroes. This is something I really liked, as well. There are very few purely “good” characters in the book. All are deeply flawed, and some downright contemptible. They change very slightly, if at all, and yet seem to develop at least a sense of honor and duty, which presents itself in the loyalty they have to each other. I found this to be unusual and pleasing. It isn’t often that I’ve read a book like this.

Now, onto what I started out this review saying.

“Cameo the Assassin” is an adventure novel, and one that works, but that isn’t what I found to love the most about it. No, it’s the underlying message that snatched me by the eyelids and forced me to look deeper. You see, to this reviewer’s eye, Cameo the character isn’t just an alcoholic killer. No, she is much, much more than that. She is a metaphor for the battered woman; a survivor, dead on the inside, strong in a certain way, with a knowledge of all the horrible things that have happened to her, and yet always, around every corner, she is a slave to that pain and the men in her life who inflict it upon her. She was a rape victim, an abuse victim, and a victim of the supernatural, and she allows them to define her. Even her relationship with Opal, who is outside that sort of misogynistic realm, is defined by his feelings for her, and not the other way around. This shows great character weakness, and is sorrowful in its reality, though presented in a fantastical way. This is my favorite part of all, and a reason in and of itself to pick up this book.

Now, one might wonder, with all the praise I’ve heaped upon this book, why I gave it four stars instead of five. I do this because of the only problem I had with the novel, which is the way it was written. It is constructed in third person omniscient, which is to me the worst of all points of view. We jump into and out of every character’s head from one paragraph to the next, which can be 1) confusing, and 2) irritating. Now, I understand that it isn’t technically the wrong way to do things, but I personally can’t stand it, and think it’s actually a bit lazy, so I’m docking a point.

With that being said, I still loved it, which should tell you something about how good the story is. It’s definitely worth the couple bucks it’ll take to try it out, and I think anyone who reads this review should do just that.

Cameo the Assassin's Amazon page

Plot - 9

Characters - 10

Voice - 4

Execution - 7

Personal Enjoyment - 8

Overall - 40/50 (4.0/5)