After Cilmeri: The Series That Saved My Creativity

In the middle of this past summer, I was in a huge rut. I was depressed, feeling raw and emotional, and I couldn’t write to save my life. When I tried to either read or watch television or movies, I would get this weird sense of anxiety whenever anything dark or violent happened. Which is tough, because most of the stuff I’ve read and watched over the years tended to be, well, dark and violent. And the same goes for my writing. With the weightiness of real life coming down on me, I just didn’t have the stomach for it.

All of which left me longing for some way to escape. I thought of the last time I’d felt like this—way back in 2001—and remembered how, through happenstance, I’d picked up Diana Gabaldon’s “Outlander” at an airport bookseller. The feel of that book, the romance, and the depth of its world helped distract and heal me during a trying time when I was dealing with not only the fallout of a divorce, but the innate terror that came with the September 11^th attacks. I decided, right then and there, that I needed that sort of escape again.

I’ve been lucky enough over the years to be involved in a sort of support group of fellow authors, and among those included in this group is Sarah Woodbury. I’d been aware of her for years—a given as we’re in the same group—but I’d never even given consideration to her work. But seeing as she writes time travel fiction that seemed to me to be quite similar to Outlander, I decided to take a peek at the initial volume in her After Cilmeri series, a perma-free novel called “Daughter of Time.”

To say I was blown away by what I read would be an understatement. I devoured every word of “Daughter of Time”—a book that revolves around a modern young woman named Meg, her accidental transportation to the 13^th century, and the beginning of her relationship with Llywelyn ap Gruffydd, the last prince of Wales—in less than two days. I fell in love with the pacing, the plot, the characters … absolutely everything about the book, I loved. So I immediately bought the next book in the series, “Footsteps in Time,” and away I went.

(Note to add that “Footsteps in Time” is actually the first book in the series; “Daughter of Time” was written as a prequel, after Woodbury’s fans expressed interest in how the whole saga started in the first place. Which makes anyone who comes into the series late the lucky ones, since the character work in “Daughter” is superb, and the information disclosed is quite helpful in understanding the narrative of later books.)

What impressed me most about these tomes was as much what they weren’t as what they were. I was expecting some Gabaldon-type time-travel romance when I first began, but as I read, I discovered that Woodbury’s books are only similar to “Outlander” in the way that the main characters find themselves displaced in time. (Well, actually, in another dimension, but let’s not split hairs.) Sure, the After Cilmeri books have their share of romantic themes, but they’re secondary to what I find to be series’ main points—to teach the readers some little-known facts about medieval Wales, and to act as a sort of exploratory thesis on the nature of leadership, the effectiveness of governing principals, the importance of history, and the virtue of integrity.

Each of these books are told from different viewpoints, alternating first person and third person narration with every other installment, which helps keep the tone fresh and immediate and, well, different. All the characters we meet, both from medieval Wales and the modern world—from Meg and Llywelyn to David and Anna and Callum and Bronwyn and Ieuan and Math and Lily—are complicated, flawed, driven, yet wholly decent people. I had no choice but to root for, and fall in love with, each and every one of them.

There’s an innocence to the narrative that I appreciated wholeheartedly, and a sort of hopeful optimism that some might call naïve drips off every word Woodbury writes. In the end, it was this optimism in the face of some rather harrowing events (war is a near constant threat in this series, as are kidnappings, betrayals, assassinations, and familial discord) that caused me to devour all fifteen books of the series in the span of about forty-five days.

To say I adore Woodbury's work would be an understatement. After Cilmeri might be my favorite series ever written, bar none. It’s almost like I got to grow along with the author, as some of the earlier books in the series display the telltale flaws of a young writer, one who grows and improves and perfects her craft with each published work. In the end, I found it to be my own version of literary nirvana—a series of comfortable yet intellectually challenging reads that not only wholly entertained me, but had me analyzing my own craft, wondering what, if anything, I can do to honor these novels, and their message, in my own published works to come.

I can honestly say that Sarah Woodbury and After Cilmeri has rescued my own creativity. While my writing isn’t coming as quickly today as it has in the past, the words are indeed coming, and that is due in large part to what one particular author had to say, and how she chose to say it. So thank you, Sarah, for the wonderfulness you’ve given the world. You have a fan for life in me, and for however long you decide to further explore the lives and adventures of King Daffyd and his merry crew, this one man will be right there to go on the journey with you, wherever you choose to take them, whenever those words arrive.

If you want to explore the awesomeness that is Sarah Woodbury’s works, you can see write-ups on each installment, as well as links to various outlets, at this link: http://www.sarahwoodbury.com/the-after-cilmeri-series/

Go. Read. Enjoy. I did. You will too.

Announcing "The Breaking World"

First of all, I would like to take this moment to announce the big news of the day. My good friend David Dalglish and I have signed a publishing deal with 47North, an arm of Amazon Publishing. The deal is for three books, all co-written by Dave and myself. The series will be titled The Breaking World, and will chronicle the birth of humanity upon Dezrel, the world in which all of Dave’s many, many novels take place, and the war between the two brother gods around whom a great number of his plots center. To say we’re both quite excited about this would be an understatement. For information’s sake, the books will be as follows:

  

Dawn of Swords (sometime in January, 2014)

Wrath of Lions (TBA)

Blood of Gods (TBA)

It really is quite fitting that I post the announcement on this particular blog, which has gone criminally underused for the past year. Because it was in this very space that the groundwork for the friendship that would eventually result in a rewarding collaboration was laid.

  

Three years ago, after much frustration, I decided to take the plunge and begin self-publishing The Rift, a series of post-apocalyptic novels I’d been working on for years. I entered the Kindle publishing world, which had just begun to make headway and gain a name for itself. Reviews were difficult to come by, as I was one of thousands to take the plunge at about the same time. I saw many of my brethren having the same difficulties, and so I dusted off this blog, which had been languishing for some time, and decided that I would pitch my services as a reviewer to the countless self-pubbers who frequented a site called Kindleboards. A great many authors added their names to the list, and my side career as an amateur reviewer began.

This is where Dave Dalglish enters the picture...but first, a bit of background. As far as being a reader goes, I’m really not as well read in genre fiction as a lot of folks out there. I dabbled in the classics a lot when I was younger, but as I grew older, I ended up limiting my reading material to pretty much horror and horror only. In fact, as far as genres go, the one I pretty much ignored was fantasy. I hadn’t read a book featuring swords and sorcery since I picked up RA Salvatore’s The Crystal Shard back in high school. (Which, trust me, was a long time ago.) That was about to change.

So on this list of books to be read and reviewed appeared The Weight of Blood, a dark journey starring a couple disenfranchised half-orc brothers written by a lithe redhead named David Dalglish. I absolutely fell in love with the book. Was it perfect? No, of course not. However, there was so much there, deep stuff, philosophical stuff that I just couldn’t overlook, whether Dave intended them or not. It was the second work of fantasy I’d read since starting the reviews, and I was hooked. A new love affair had begun.

Every book Dave wrote, I devoured. (In fact, The Cost of Betrayal, the second Half-Orc book, I still consider to be one of my favorites ever, in any genre.) We began chatting online, and a friendship was struck. During his later books, he would call me to discuss plot ideas, and I’d like to think that I was able to be of some help. I became enraptured by his world, almost to a scholarly level. So immersed was I that I began to understand Dezrel and what happened within it as much as I understood what was happening in my own writing.

 

One thing that always intrigued me was the Gods’ War, which many of his books reference. I’d often ask him if he was ever going to write it, and he said he had no plans to. (In the interview linked at the bottom of this post, Dave himself describes his feelings on the subject.) I thought that was a shame, as the storyline had so much potential, but at the same time a writer’s gotta do what a writer’s gotta do. If he didn’t feel inspired by the material, best not to pen it or you’ll come out with a substandard product.

 

Fast forward to 2012, when I was putting the finishing touches on The Summer Son, the last of the Rift books. Dave asked me what project I planned on doing next, and I told him I was wavering between ideas at the moment. “Why don’t you write the prequel books with me,” he then said. “You know, the war between Ashhur and Karak.”

I just about fell out of my chair.

 

Full disclosure here: For a long while, I had actually hoped this offer would be made. During my many hours spent reading Dave’s novels, I’d developed a mental picture (and even quite a few written notes) of what life would be like in early Dezrel, hashed out a few storylines that needed telling, and stashed them away as maybe something to give my friend if he ever decided to start the project, or, gasp, maybe wanted me to help write them. And then there it was, falling right into my lap—the opportunity to not only write in a world I loved, but write with a man I admire and who has come to become one of my closest of friends, one with whom I share a great deal of values and beliefs, though we come from vastly different backgrounds. Not only that, but I knew we would work well together, since probably the best short story I ever wrote, The One that Matters, which appeared in his Land of Ash compilation, was a tale I had no confidence in until Dave cleaned it up, removed unnecessary filler, and helped make it what it became. That’s when I knew that the two of us working together could create something great.

I had an outline ready for him almost immediately (an easy task given my previous note-taking), and after his enthusiastic approval, it was off to the races. I worked on the rough draft, constantly calling Dave to keep the storyline consistent and fix quite a few aspects of the plot that I couldn’t find resolutions to. Then, when the hulking manuscript was finished, Dave took it and began a round of heavy edits. What ended up coming out when all was said and done is a book that is far and away the best piece of literature I’ve ever had my name attached to. See, that’s the thing with this collaboration; areas I struggle in Dave is expert at, and visa versa. Balance, people. Celestia would be quite proud. (Anyone who knows Dave’s work will appreciate that statement.)

 

And in the middle of all this, something wondrous happened. Dave got out of a bad representation deal and, all of a sudden, he had a deal with big-six publisher Orbit for his Shadowdance novels and our collaboration was going to have Amazon’s mighty sword behind it. A book that had been a labor of love, that had been slated to be self-published, was now going to find a home with a real, live publisher. Now, I will freely admit that just having Dave’s name on a project pretty much guarantees it success (and I lucked out greatly there), but this was beyond my wildest dreams. I even got hooked up with uber-agent Michael Carr because of this, one of the nicest and hardest-working men I’ve ever come across, who obviously deserves a great amount of credit for these deals being completed.

So there you have it. Really, though I put a ton of work into the project, it’s Dave who deserves the lion’s share of praise here. He was the one who believed in what I had to offer, his rewriting skills were on-point, and hell, he was the one who created this whole wonderful backdrop in the first place! Without Dave Dalglish, there’s no Dezrel, there’s no Half-Orcs, there’s no Shadowdance, and there sure as hell isn’t any Breaking World. I owe him so much, not the least of which is being a great friend when I needed one most.

So thanks, Dave! Not like you don’t know this already, but you’re the greatest, as a man as well as an author. And thanks to 47North as well, for taking a chance on these books. We’re going to do awesome things together, I guarantee it.

To read a fascinating interview with Dave on this subject and a whole lot more, visit the following link: http://davidgaughran.wordpress.com/2013/02/28/from-pizza-hut-to-easy-street-the-david-dalglish-story/

Review: The Old Ways (Paladins III) by David Dalglish

Rating: 5 out of 5

No one’s perfect, but sometimes everything comes together, especially in literature. It’s fascinating to watch an author grow and grow, slowly improving over time, fixing faults in their writing, finding new ways to explore tired old plot devices, coming to grips with their weaknesses and making them strengths. It’s not all that rare in the world of books, but it’s still special.

And this brings us to The Old Ways: Paladins Book III by David Dalglish.

I, for one, am a huge fan of the author’s work. (Surprised? Look through my archived reviews and you won’t be.) I’ve read every book Dalglish has come out with, and either loved or really liked every one. But this one is something special. Gone is his penchant for rushing, for occasionally taking the easy way out and brushing aside important internal conflict. Instead, what the author has given us in this book is a pace that moves slowly, fluidly, that gradually builds the tension and grows the characters until they explode off the page in the last act.

The Old Ways continues with the struggles of Jericho, paladin of Ashhur, and Darius, former paladin of Karak. The story picks up where we left off in Clash of Faiths, with Darius being converted to the side of light in his trial-by-fire (and unnecessarily rushed) clash with his old friend. He’s a man isolated even when he’s surrounded by people. He’s haunted by his past deeds, both inwardly and outwardly, and the fact that many of those past deeds hurt a great many people does nothing but make life much more difficult for our poor antihero.

But he’s learning, changing, determined to become a better man, even if it kills him.

On the other side of the coin we have Jericho, the sometimes too-good-to-be-true goodie-goodie. While I loved his character when he first appeared in Half-Orcs, truth be told he can be a bit one-note with how honorable and loyal he is. But then again, his purpose in this story is to act as foil for Darius, for Darius is the true star of the show, the character that grows and experiences pain and redemption and acts like a living, breathing human being. He is the backbone of this novel—the backbone of the series, really—and in this book he really shines.

Along with Darius’s redemption, Dalglish also pushes the envelope with his new cadre of villains. We have Valessa, the Grey Sister who died in Faiths, only to be reborn as something dark and complex, a being of shadow that cannot rest until her mission (killing Darius) is accomplished. The scenes involving her were brilliantly done, full of contradiction, self-loathing, and doubt. If there’s one character that I hope future books explore deeper, it’s her.

Then we have Luther and Cyric, priests of Karak who start up the journey toward changing the world to fit their god’s image. The complexity of each character is fantastic. They’re literary interpretations of different ways of obtaining political power—subterfuge cunning, and force and tradition. Both are effective in their own ways, and to watch their respective plans unfold on the page was awe-inspiring. Especially with Luther, who offers a surprise at the end that literally left me speechless.

So yes, I can say that David Dalglish has done it again. He’s written a book full of trepidation and turmoil, full of violence and self-discovery, a book that I fully ingested with aplomb. I may not be someone you really want to listen to in regards to my opinion on this book, since I’m a little more than biased toward him, but in my humble opinion he has created a work that goes far beyond simply being a third book in a series.

And that’s because The Old Ways, while not perfect, is just about as close as any writer can get to that unreachable ideal.

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Review: Clash of Faiths by David Dalglish

Rating: 4.6 out of 5

David Dalglish writes what I want to read. He’s listed as a fantasy author, and his books take place in a world that includes magic, orcs, wolf-men, paladins, knights, and ancient gods, but that’s only the surface of what’s happening. I look at Dalglish’s work like this – whimsical explorations of modern-day themes and issues that both entertain and force the reader to examine what goes on in the real world around them.

Clash of Faiths, the second book in his Paladins series, is no different. It continues the story of Jerico and Darius, the paladins of Ashhur and Karak, respectively, and their struggles in the time after the attempted wolf-man invasion of Durham. Jerico finds himself up north, prisoner of a man named Kaide, who is heading up a people’s rebellion against the brutal Lord Hemman. It might not be the best of situations to be in, but at least he’s hidden from the legions of Karak who are hunting him, those who’ve recently destroyed the Citadel, leaving Jerico as possibly the last of his kind. All the while Darius is stumbling about all by his lonesome, getting into trouble and being an overall grouchypants after his run-in with Velixar, Karak’s prophet. And Velixar isn’t done with him…not in the slightest. It is the Big V’s principal goal to lead Darius back to his faith – or the Dark Side, if you will.

The story plays out in equally distributed parts, flipping from Jerico to Darius and back again, paralleling their respective struggles and demonstrating just the types of people these two faithful men are. Jerico joins forces with Kaide (who is actually one of my favorite characters Dalglish has ever created; a living, breathing, gray area of a concept) against Lord Sebastian Hemman, while Darius ends up being thrown in prison by said Lord, for the sin of not being faithful enough to Karak’s cause, even though Darius is constantly professing his love of the deity…and believing every word of it. It is there, while in prison, that Velixar comes to him once again, therefore setting the stage for the rest of the tale to play out.

The story climaxes in a final battle between Hemman’s men and Kaide’s army of farmers and merchants. Unlike most episodes of warfare in Dalglish’s novels, this one is brisk, taking up only perhaps a tenth of the text. Why is that? Because the fighting, while intriguing, isn’t the point of the book. It only serves as a metaphor for the war raging inside Darius’s head – can he love his friend even after all he’s been through, what constitutes righteousness in a faith that preaches order and conquest above adoration, and which system of belief is right, which is wrong, and does it even matter if he chooses one over the other?

This is what makes Dalglish’s books so special to me – those posed questions. And finally, we have the order of Karak shown to be what I’ve long suspected it is – a religious cult that uses suppression and mind control to grow its following. One might ask, but why would someone willingly join a cult like that? The answer is quite simple, given the context of the world it exists in: there is safety in power, in influence, and Karak offers that. The deity promises protection (and a lack of decapitation) to those who follow, while those who don’t are doomed to a lifetime of pain and flight from an aggressive enemy. Add to that the fact that the concepts of order and self-control are the tenets of the faith, and one could understand how an individual who feels unstable could look at the order as a way to heal the fractured parts within them. There are many similar cults, such as Scientology, in the world today that do much of the same. They rely on coercion and peoples’ inherent insecurities to draw them in, promising solutions to the ills of their lives, and then instill the members with an us-against-the-world mentality. If you’re not for us, you’re against us, to the extreme. It is these elements that make Dalglish’s books that much more important, not to mention insightful, than many other works of fiction.

To counterbalance Karak’s aggressive, neo-fascist nature, we have followers of Ashhur, the passive, loving god. When I first started reading these novels, I always took Ashhur to be a representation of Christianity – which I’m sure the author intended. However, the more I read, the more I realize that this is not entirely the case. In fact, you can look at it like this: Ashhur’s teachings are the manifestation of all that is good in spiritual belief; the care for others, the virtue of forgiveness, the living of life with the sole aim of being the best individual you can be. It’s an inclusive system of belief, one in which all people, even those who don’t believe, are treated as equals. Unlike the history of Christianity, Ashhur’s followers don’t actively seek to convert the people, only to show how much they care, saying that if you ever need a place to stay, a steadying hand to lead the way, someone to heal your sore and tired bones, we’ll be here with no strings attached. In other words, everyone has a chance at salvation, whether they buy into the dogma or not. And Jerico embodies this. He treats every person he meets with the same amount of respect until they prove a danger. This is also the reason why Darius has a very difficult time understanding his friend’s actions: to the dark paladin, existence is a series of trials, of sacrifices, both mentally and physically, to a demanding god. The mere concept of something like forgiveness, or even pity, are lost on him, at least on the surface. But once he dives a little deeper, he has the potential to learn that not only is he capable of changing, of becoming something other than the stormtrooper of death he is, but all people are. And that, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

I’ve gone on a bit of a tangent here, and I’m sure this sounds more like a term paper than a review, but I felt this book deserved to be broken down in this way. Every word written down means something ­– each line of dialogue, each description, each instance of cruelty or kindness. That being said, the only thing I didn’t like about Clash of Faiths was the very end of the book. After so much flowing prose and inner turmoil, it seemed that suddenly everything happens too quickly, especially Darius’s character development. I would’ve liked some more exposition, more scenes of him questioning his faith and coming to grips with the possibility that what he’s always believed may be a lie. But that didn’t happen, and in a way that’s a shame. Darius and Jerico, and their relationship as brothers-in-spirit, deserved it.

That being said, this is still a wonderful book. It more than adds to the canon of David Dalglish’s work – it creates a template for the beliefs of the world that I’m sure will be carried on in volumes to come. The scenes that built upon what we already know about the characters were wonderful. And Velixar? Let’s just say he’s deliciously evil, and whenever he appears on the page, that scene becomes his. Also, one thing the ending did get right was introduce us to a new, potentially lethal villain, one that I’m sure will appear in the next book and wreck all sorts of ungodly havoc. Just that has me excited to continue.

In closing, Clash of Faiths is well worth a read, for both fans of Dalglish and those new to his work. It’s filled with important questions and shrewd observations of the world at large, and it is an improvement on the previous book in the series. I seriously can’t give the author any more props than to say I’m a fan for life, that everything he does strikes me where it counts, and it is always a joy to read what he puts on paper. To me he is the best fantasy author of his generation, the Stephen King of the sword-and-sorcery genre who transcends the normal tropes, and even when there are things I think can be improved, what he puts out there is second to absolutely no one.

Seriously.

Plot – 10

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 7

Personal Enjoyment – 9

Overall – 46/50 (4.6/5)

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Review: A Dance of Blades by David Dalglish

Rating: 5 out of 5

Sequels are tough business, especially when the first book of a series is extremely well written. There’s a ton of pressure to put out something equally as good, and there’s a good chance readers could walk away disappointed because the author wasn’t up to the challenge.

After reading A Dance of Blades by David Dalglish, the sequel to last year’s A Dance of Cloaks, I can tell you with all certainty that this particular writer accomplished just what he set out to do.

Blades starts out five years after the end of Cloaks. Early on we find Aaron Felhorn, the son of Spider Guild leader Thren who now calls himself only Haern, living on the streets and waging his own personal war of attrition against the thief guilds of Velderan. Gone is that sliver of innocence that Haern tried so hard to hold onto in the first book, replaced by an undying need for vengeance against the man who sullied his life. And when I say need, what I really mean is obsession, because that’s truly what it is. Haern hates his father and all those like him so much that he cannot help but paint every thief he runs across with the same blood-drenched brush.

As for those thief guilds and their never-ending battle with the Trifect, the powers-that-be in the land, all is not going so well. It seemed the aftereffects of the Bloody Kensgold, where Thren tried to wrest power away from the businessmen, has left all parties worse for wear. The guilds are in shambles, shamelessly murdering and stealing from any they wish, while the Trifect, themselves, are struggling. Alyssa Gemcroft, now the leader of the Gemcroft estate after the assassination of her father, is particularly stressed. She’s sent her son Nathanial to the north for protection while she constantly wards herself from poisoned food and the fortune her family has lost to the thieves that surround them at all times.

The thing she most needs, at least according to her advisors, is a husband. She eventually acquiesces after Nathanial is killed, apparently by the Watcher (Haern), which introduces us to the main villain of the piece, Arthur Hadfield.

Hadfield is a very strange baddie, at least when it comes to Dalglish’s work. He’s in no way supernatural, he has no otherworldly power or strength, and isn’t the face of some great and secret organization. All he is, is an opportunistic scoundrel who wants nothing but more power. That might make him the weakest of Dalglish’s villains to some, but to me, he’s the best because he’s so real. Arthur’s like a crooked politician with no moral compass, and he attracts like-minded men to his side, such as his right-hand-man Oric. Let’s just say I hated both these characters with a passion, their deeds and thoughts (or lack thereof), and that made me love them…if that makes any sense.

As for Alyssa, she’s come a long way from where we saw her in the first book. She’s a strong woman now, leading her people and doing just what leaders are supposed to do – making the tough decisions, even if they turn out to be wrong. After she discovers her son has been killed, she takes it upon herself to personally dispatch every criminal in the entire city, and hires countless mercenaries to carry out her request. What follows are a series of hellish nights as the streets of Velderan are filled with blood.

Let me say this right now – Alyssa Gemcroft very well may be the most brilliant character Dalglish has ever created…and I don’t say that lightly. She bucks trends and stereotypes and displays power and weakness in equal measure. Throughout the entire book, there is never once a mention of her beauty – it’s simply assumed that she is. As a character she is so well conceived that she almost overshadows the other particulars in this tale of deceit, violence, and woe.

Almost, but not quite.

There are characters aplenty to care about in this novel, just as in the first. We get to see the coming to power of Deathmask (who appeared in the last couple Half-Orc books), and he gobbles up every scene he appears in. We are also reacquainted with Veliana, the lady-behind-the-curtain of the Ash Guild, and Zusa, the mysterious, cloth-wrapped woman who assists both Alyssa and Vel from her place in the shadows (yet two more imminently strong female characters…I have a feeling Dalglish is trying to get to something about women banding together being more powerful than any force in the universe). Also, as readers we get to meet the Eschaton once more, Tarlak and Delysia and Brug, along with Senke, Haern’s former mentor. For those who’ve followed this author’s work, it’s a wonderful homecoming of sorts; to those who haven’t they are introduced to some pretty entertaining personalities that have been sorely missed.

But of course, with all this being said, A Dance of Blades is Haern’s show, and he doesn’t disappoint. We get to see him evolve as a person throughout the length of the novel, from angry outcast to bitter vigilante to, finally, an accepting adult who comes to understand his role in the world. I think, during parts of the book, I forgot a very important part of Haern’s makeup – he’s still a child. He’s at most eighteen years old, and as a father of a son near that age, I can honestly say that none of them have anything figured out. Life is a big, confusing, sometimes hellacious ball of experience, and it takes time to come to grips with that…especially without an elder guide, which is why I found Haern’s progress as an individual to be so profound. Though he does develop friendships by the end, most every decision he makes, he makes on his own, with very little input from others. This shows the strength of character we see when he appears in Dalglish’s earlier novels, and also demonstrates just how capable of righteousness in the face of cruelty he can be.

As the second book in a series, A Dance of Blades loses some of the innocence from the first installment, as I mentioned earlier. However, it more than makes up for that with the amount of brutality and self-sacrifice that is demonstrated within. The three-night battle between the mercenaries and thief guilds is atrocious, and there is very little care for who’s guilty or innocent. There is also one particular scene that turned my stomach, as a kind family is cruelly assaulted by Oric and some more of Arthur Hadfield’s men. Though Dalglish handles the visuals and presentation respectfully, we still get to witness the horror of these actions, and imagine the repercussions for the victims. So when you add all this in together with Haern’s mad fixation on killing every thief he can get his hands on, I guess you can say that this is a book about the loss of innocence…or a fall from grace, if you will.

Which is important in any work of fiction, because of course you have to fall before you can get back up.

In all, A Dance of Blades is a more than worthy compliment to its predecessor. In most ways it even surpasses the first book, which I didn’t think possible. It’s a novel full of treachery, disturbing images, underhanded dealings, war, and desperation, but it also shows the reader how, even in these trying times, there is still a capacity for love and friendship in the world. It says we don’t have to be alone, even if we’ve become monsters to ourselves, because no one worth a salt is ever beyond redemption.

With that, I can honestly say that this is the second-best book Dalglish has ever written, just a fraction of a percentage point behind A Sliver of Redemption. Who knows, perhaps when the final book of the Shadowdance trilogy comes out next winter, he might outshine himself again.

Knowing this author’s work the way I do, I wouldn’t put it past him in the slightest.

Plot - 10

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 10

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 50/50 (5.0/5)

Purchase A Dance of Blades in ebook format:

BOOK RELEASE - Night of Wolves by David Dalglish

That's right folks: David Dalglish, author of the Half-Orc and Shadowdance series, has started yet another series, this one chronicling the trials and travails of the paladins, both dark and light, that appear in his other books. Here's a look at the first installment, Night of Wolves.



PRODUCT DESCRIPTION:

"The humans are weak. Their skin is soft, and their minds dull from years of safety. We are the vicious. We are the destroyers. Come the full moon, when our goddess watches our victory, we will taste of their blood!"

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Wolf-men, savage creatures given humanoid form in an ancient war, mass along the Gihon River. Led by their packleader Redclaw, they seek to cross the river and claim a land of their own, slaughtering those that would stand in their way. Two paladins, Jerico of the god Ashhur, and Darius of the god Karak, must helm the desperate defense against the invasion. Their friendship will be tested as their gods resume an unending war, and their very faiths call for the death of the other. Together, friend or foe, they must face Redclaw's horde.

NIGHT OF WOLVES by David Dalglish
Can faith remain when the gods call for blood?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

David Dalglish currently lives in rural Missouri with his wife Samantha, daughter Morgan, and snake, Velixar. He graduated from Missouri Southern State University in 2006 with a degree in Mathematics and currently spends his free time watching Spongebob Squarepants with his daughter.

Night of Wolves is currently available in ebook format for the rock-bottom price of 99¢ at Amazon and Amazon UK.

BOOK RELEASE ANNOUNCEMENT: A DANCE OF BLADES by David Dalglish

We here at the Journal (which is really just me) have a special announcement.

David Dalglish, whose books I absolutely adore, has just released the follow-up to his best-selling novel, A Dance of Cloaks. Go out and buy this book, people! I for one can't wait to read it when it shows up in my mailbox, because Mr. Dalglish never fails to send me review copies of all his work.

Enough of me, now. Read up on this book below:



A DANCE OF BLADES

“Veldaren aches for a purge, and I will be the one to deliver it. Cry out at me if you wish, but it will change nothing. The gold is spent, the orders are given. Let the blood flow.”

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It's been five years since Haern faked his death to escape the tyranny of his father. He has become the Watcher, a vicious killer who knows no limits, and whose hatred of the thief guilds is unrivaled. But when the son of Alyssa Gemcroft, one of the three leaders of the powerful Trifect, is believed murdered, the slaughter begins anew. Mercenaries flood the streets, with one goal in mind: find and kill the Watcher.

A DANCE OF BLADES by David Dalglish
Peace or destruction; every war must have its end.

Now available for the Kindle on Amazon.com. Click here, or the cover image, to buy yourself a copy. Trust me, it's worth it.