The Wicked Heroine: Legend of the Shanallar Book I by Jasmine Giacomo

Rating: 2.8 out of 5

I like ideas. I like a well-written novel. Sometimes, I run across novels where these two aspects don’t mesh. Some are well-written but lack imagination. These, I give a shrug to and move on. Some, however, have ideas so interesting that I want to like them, even though the construction of the plot might leave much to be desired. The latter, to me, are the most frustrating of all books. They’re written just well enough to be passable, but not good enough to bring those brilliant ideas to the forefront, to give them the power and importance they deserve.

“The Wicked Heroine: Legend of the Shanallar Book I” by Jasmine Giacomo is one of these books. On the surface, it has everything – a legendary and immortal figure who influences the course of history, an expedition that forays into cultures foreign to the protagonists and highlights the differences between the peoples, a government conspiracy, a deep and secret evil that seems to be bubbling to the surface, sea monsters, sword fights, and a preternaturally gifted young girl who might be more than she seems.

The story follows the adventures of three main characters – Geret, a young and brash prankster who is set to be made prince, Sanych, the aforementioned talented young girl, and Meena, the legendary and immortal Shanallar, herself. They set out on a quest from Geret and Sanych’s homeland of Vint in search of the lost (and imminently dangerous) Dire Tome, a book of magic that Meena, in one of her many previous identities, had hidden away to protect the world from the dangers that lie within. They journey across their continent and into the sea, in search of the land of Shanal, the birthplace of Meena and burial ground of the Dire Tome, itself.

Along the way they encounter many adventures. There is political intrigue, as the reasons for the quest seem questionable at best, even to those partaking in it. There is the budding brotherhood-hatred relationship between Geret and Salvor, a young Lord who accompanies them on the quest. There are the tales told through flashbacks and those Meena speaks of that discuss the history of this world we’ve been entered into, which in and of themselves could be complete, fleshed-out books. There are the previously stated sea monsters, whose encounter with the protagonists makes up the most entertaining part of the book. And there are themes of innocence lost and valor that each character must deal with.

As for those characters, they are pretty well fleshed out. Meena, in particular, is interesting. Her demeanor is gritty and more than a bit rude, which flies in the face of normal conventions when it comes to wise immortals. She has a chip on her shoulder, people annoy her, and she isn’t shy about letting them all know as much. Geret is likeable in an “ignorant jock” sort of way; he’s the type of fellow one might know who’s supremely gifted yet just naïve enough to let himself get walked over. And Sanych…she’s an idiot savant, the female Rain Man. Gifted with memory and intellect yet socially inept. I mean, when do we not root for a character like that?

These characters change throughout the book, and those changes are consistent with the way they’ve been presented. But the problem I had with author Giacomo’s writing wasn’t the characters, but the construction of the tale.

First of all, it is horribly overwritten. One could probably cut about 10% off the word count by eliminating unnecessary adverbs alone. There are extended segments describing droll information regarding locations the characters simply pass through. Long stretches pass without anything happening. On more than one occasion, I found my vision blurring as my eyes scanned the text. In fact, I was a full seventy-five percent through the book before the pace picked up and the action got going. To be completely honest, the author should have cut the word count by a third or more. It would’ve made for less distracting reading.

Also, I mentioned earlier ideas and how many were present in this book. Yes, they are there, but in many ways they’re ignored or used as meaningless plot devices to explain away a character’s relevance. For example, there is a fabulous little tidbit about a forced wedding ritual (demand?) where the subject of the engagement is placed under a spell where if they give their love to another, if they’re unfaithful, that the person they are unfaithful with will die, leaving the purveyor of this infidelity to deal with the consequences. It was a shocking revelation, one that could’ve been used to make a nice statement about humans and our responsibilities to others, and I was eager to see where this plot point went. Well, it went nowhere. It was almost as if the characters (and author) said, “Oh, isn’t that nice?” and went along their merry ways. I just about pulled my hair out with that one.

Oh, and the ending. It didn’t wind down as much as fizzle. Sure, I understand that this is the first in a two-book series, but there has to be at least some resolution. In many ways it felt as if I took this long, drawn-out journey, and nothing happened. Kind of like strolling down a dirt road in Nebraska. The land is flat and uninteresting, and unless you are clued in to all the little things going on around you (if you’re even interested in them), it’s not very exciting.

As for the writing style itself, once again I find myself reading a book written in third person omniscient. When will folks realize that constant head-hopping from paragraph to paragraph is more than a little bit irritating, not to mention frowned upon? Find a character to tell the story or section through and stick with it, please.

Overall, I will say that although the book frustrated me, and wasn’t completely satisfying, I still took something away from it. Like I said, it is the first book in a series, so perhaps the later volume will clear up some of my misgivings – if I pick it up. But, again, the ideas...that’s what makes it so maddening. There is so much there, so much that could’ve made this a wild, thrilling, and original ride. But it wasn’t, and in the end, my enjoyment – and the novel’s grade – suffered.

Plot - 7

Characters - 9

Voice - 5

Execution - 3

Personal Enjoyment – 4

Overall – 28/50 (2.8/5)

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Review: The Cost of Betrayal by David Dalglish

Rating: 5 out of 5

Let me preface this by saying that normally I like to sit on a book a few days before I review it. This allows me time to ponder the meaning of the story in greater detail, to mull over the finer aspects of the storytelling and decide whether my initial, guttural reaction was indeed true, or if I was simply caught up in the moment. Sometimes a book I loved will appear lesser after time, sometimes one I loathed will be struck with new meaning. This balance is what I seek and what this practice is for, to come from an objective place. However, as with most things of an objective nature, sometimes the emotion can be wrung from my explanation of it, due to both the time and that pondering.

So now I sit here, an hour past finishing “The Cost of Betrayal”, the second of the Half-Orc series by David Dalglish, and I want nothing more than to get my thoughts down on paper now. This is a work that is demanding of a highly emotional state, and it’s in my own, right now, that I honor it.

The story picks up where “The Weight of Blood” left off, in the aftermath of master necromancer Velixar’s failed attempt to destroy Woodhaven. The three partners-in-convoluted-crime – Harruq and Qurrah, the half-orc brothers, and Aurelia, an elven sorceress – are on their way back to Veldaren, the city in which the brothers grew up, on the streets and all alone. Upon reentering the city, they are immediately attacked, by a group called the Eschaton, a militia who protects the city for coin and favor. The way Dalglish pours you right into the action is admirable. He does it without missing a beat and without a ton of setup, which is appreciated.

The small group joins up with the Eschaton, and wackiness ensues. They encounter a plot by the local thieves’ guild and the battle scenes are epic. In fact, ALL the battle scenes are epic, extremely graphic, and skillfully presented, just as in the first book. You don’t get lost in the action and you actually care about what’s about to happen to the characters.

The funny thing about these battles, however grand they might be, is that they are overshadowed by the emotional threads that run through the novel. The relationship between Harruq and Aurelia grows by leaps and bounds, and Qurrah becomes obsessed with a strange and tweaked-out girl named Tessanna, who is possessed of power that not even she knows the depths. It is with these two relationships, mirrored against each other, that the bulk of the story grows and flourishes. More than in book one, the differences between Harruq and Qurrah are made that much more apparent by the way they relate to their loved ones. Harruq, though a big lunk, is thoughtful and caring. He listens and is willing to change. Qurrah, on the other hand, is fanatical, cynical, and unbending. He thinks he knows his place in the world and is not willing to alter his mindset…or his actions.

Though a work of fantasy – and a graphic, cringe-inducing work at that – it is this heart that sets this book apart from others I’ve read. The emotional and social threads that run through it cast it above the realm of high fantasy and into highly literary. There are so many issues presented, from racism (how well an individual can “pass” when partially of a lineage deemed unsavory) to the difference between love and fixation (how far will one go, how much will one sacrifice, to help out someone they care about) to the simple act of forgiveness (an example of which I will not give away, as it is the most powerful and gut-wrenching part of the book).

Yet despite all this, there is one theme that rises above all others: family. What does it mean to be family? Can there be family without blood relation? Can that family overcome the faults of its members, even if those faults endanger them? These were stunning revelations to read, and some of the more prophetic words and ideas presented left me with a gigantic lump in my throat. By the end of the book I was a quivering mess. I cried. I couldn’t help but look at my own family, pull them in, and tell them how much I loved them. I thought of the actions of those involved in this yarn and wondered if I would be able to be as forgiving as they were. That is what I found surprising. Almost every character in these novels is a highly flawed individual. They perpetuate horrible acts and seek no clemency. They murder and maim because it’s their job, and they refuse to apologize because that is the state of the world they live in. And yet, through each of them runs a deeply emotional center, a potential to love and be loved that they wish to feed and encourage. There is change, and as I said before, there is forgiveness, and we the readers forgive right along with them. We do this because we recognize the power they hold, the love they are capable of, and when one treads off that path, we shake our heads in pity. We want them to succeed, to overcome whatever demons have befallen them, and it actually HURTS when they fail.

This is a deeply sad book. And it is poignant. I couldn’t put it down. It is painful, at times, to take in, and yet you can’t stop. It makes you FEEL and THINK, and that is, besides pure entertainment, the reason most of us read in the first place. For this, David Dalglish should be commended. I do not speak in hyperbole to say that this is one of the four or five best novels I have read IN MY LIFETIME. It has everything one would want in a book. It takes you through the roller coaster of sensations – from hopeful to despaired to overjoyed to, finally, broken – and spits you out on the other side shaken and thankful for what you have. You laugh, you cry, you ponder. This is truly an accomplishment, and one that should not be overlooked.

Yes, “The Cost of Betrayal” is that good. I dare anyone to read it, to take it in, to relish it. The mistakes in the writing from the first book (which weren’t that noticeable to begin with) have been remedied. What remains is a tale of such power that you have no choice but listen. Carnage and conflict aside, as some might not welcome them, there is too much here to not appreciate it.

This needs to be read. It needs to be out there.

And with that, for the emotions I feel, I give the author two simple words that I think say everything.

Thank you.

Buy The Cost of Betrayal in paperback or for the Amazon Kindle

Plot - 10

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 10

Personal Enjoyment - 10

Overall - 50/50 (5.o/5)