All about me!

Would you look at that. I haven’t posted anything to this blog in over a year. To think I used to post three or four times a week. And almost none of them were about myself. Madness!

Well, to keep with the theme, I guess I have to write about myself again. A lot of stuff has gone on since I announced the sale of The Breaking World to 47North, and I should really get all those who’re interested updated.

First off, all three books in the initial run of the fantasy series Dave and I wrote are now complete. Dawn of Swords was published in January, while Wrath of Lions is set to be released on April 22^nd. Add to that the fact that Blood of Gods is perilously close to being sent to copyediting, and you can tell how busy of a year it’s been for me. That’s 620,000 words of fiction written in 15 months. Something I never thought would be accomplished, has been. And I couldn’t be happier.

In other news (and this should’ve been posted a long while back), over the course of two months, from August until October of this past year (and while writing the rough draft of Wrath of Lions), I went through and did a complete re-edit of the entire Rift series. That was something I’ve been pining to do for a very long time. There were just certain things about the series that wore on me, from typos to style to an ending that I (and a number of reader) felt was rushed. So I dove in and made over three thousand corrections, as well as added an extra 10,000 words, most of which come at the book’s climax. Hopefully, the added material will make the final battle feel much more real, and add some much-needed closure for characters that had been unfairly ignored by me. Personally, I think it enhances the story greatly.

As it stands, the revised version of The Rift is only available in the four-book omnibus. For now, the individual books remain the same as they were when they were originally published, though only available in e-book format. The print version of the series is now offered in two separate volumes. Also, unlike when I first put the omnibus together last year, the digital version contains all of Jesse’s awesome artwork. Yay for progress!

Oh, and now The Fall e-book is permanently available for free, so there's that as well.

So we have the Breaking World books and The Rift news. To add to that, there’s a short story I wrote coming down the pike any day now. The story’s called Silence, and it will be included in Shock Totem issue 8.5, which is a collection of love stories told with a horror slant. The story I submitted might be my favorite ever, so I can’t wait for the day that gets released. Oh, and there’s also another short I’m writing for an invite-only anthology called My Peculiar Family. The story’s not finished yet, but it will be in the next day or so, and it’ll be another good one when it is. Thanks, Kristi, for inviting me! That anthology should see the light of day sometime at the end of the summer of 2014.

All of which begs the question: where is Rob going from here? Well, Dave and I still have three more books to write together—Kings of Ruin, Prince of Beasts, and Queen of Lies—in order to finish off our tale of Dezrel’s beginnings. To be honest, after writing the first three books in that series so damn quickly, we’re both suffering from a bit of burnout, so we’re going to put off starting those for a little bit. In the meantime, I’m going to go ahead and write the rough draft of The Mirror of Souls, which was placed on the backburner when the opportunity to work with Dave came about. That story’s all I’ve been able to think about for a couple weeks now, and I can’t wait to dive in. Jacqueline Talbot is calling out to me, folks. Tell my story, she says, and rather creepily at that. I’m getting the shivers just thinking about it!

However, just because I’m writing that book doesn’t mean it’s going to be released anytime soon. I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with it. I haven’t decided if I want to self-publish or find a home with an actual publisher (if that’s even an option). Another thing to take into consideration is books 4-6 of The Breaking World. Should the pressure mount to dive into that world once more, that’s something I’ll have to do. If that happens, any public sighting of Jacqueline’s first solo effort would be delayed indefinitely. While I do plan on having the rough draft finished by the end of April, I couldn’t justify putting out a single tome of a four-book series, only to let the readers sway in the wind for a year or two. Nope, not gonna happen.

In other words, everything’s still up in the air. All I do know is that I have two short stories and two more books coming out in the next eight months. And that, in and of itself, is something to be excited about.

Thanks for stopping by and listening, and hopefully I can start keeping this blog a little more active than it’s been.

But no promises. :-)

Rob D

Review: The Haunted E-Book by J.L. Bryan

Rating: 4.5 out of 5

It’s a great feeling when you come across an idea you haven’t seen before, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve all read stories of haunted houses, haunted cars, even haunted people…but a haunted ebook? I mean, think about it for a second—even the term didn’t exist ten years or so ago.

Which makes the appropriately-titled The Haunted E-Book, written by J.L. Bryan of Jenny Pox fame, the first of its kind. This is a primacy that all writers yearn for but very few achieve.

On to the story.

Dee is a librarian in rural Georgia, a broken woman stuck in a place she doesn’t want to be simply because she wants to be close to the grave of her deceased friend Lilah. She spends her time reading her Kindle while trying to forget the fact her life’s gone nowhere in a hurry. Her loser townie boyfriend treats her like she isn’t there, which in fact reflects Dee’s view of herself. She’s a shell of a woman, a ghost wafting through the real world, hardly ever seen.

Strange things begin happening right away, when she downloads a book titled—yup—The Haunted E-Book. The book takes over her entire library of digital books, even inserting itself into other stories when she tries to read something different.

And this is where things get very, very interesting, because what we have here is a story within a story…within a story. Dee reads about Madison, who’s reading about Parker, who’s reading about Elaine. And in each incarnation, the person they’re reading about is reading a book called the same thing, only with the individual story being different. It sounds confusing, like looking into two mirrors at the same time and seeing the same image projected over and over again into infinity, but in fact, with the way Bryan constructed the story, it’s quite easy to follow.

The book follows the same pattern with every reader—so-and-so begins to be haunted by a mysterious, shadowy figure with letters stamped on his flesh, and who carries an iron composite stick with which he kills his victims. And how do you fall victim to this sadistic ghost?

Why, you stop reading.

Dee is thrust into the lives of the people she reads about, and her life at home falls apart. Then, following a familiar pattern with tales of hauntings, she is sent on a mission to discover the history behind the book, actually meets a few of the characters she’s read about (who turn out to be people just as real as her), and begins a daring chase in hopes of putting an end to the bad guy once and for all. In a way, it’s the story of one woman coming to grips with who she is, realizing her worth to both herself and the ones who loved her. And since this is horror, this epiphany comes when her life hangs precariously by a thread.

While the last third of The Haunted E-Book does follow a familiar pattern, the hows and whys of the plot make it refreshing. The evil presence behind the haunting is sinister in a subversive way, a “man” whose every action is made out of love—or at least his own twisted definition of it. He’s creepy and evocative of horror tales past, and his backstory, yet another book-within-a-book, is fascinating, as is the description of how he comes to haunt the books in the first place.

In all, I can heartily recommend The Haunted E-Book to anyone who enjoys reading an original, inventive horror yarn, complete with dismemberment, terror, and visceral thrills. It’s a hellride, the journey of one woman who wishes to be reborn while experiencing the most dreadful events of her lifetime. It will chew you up and spit you out, and by the time you read the final page, you’ll be left wondering if the words The End are truthful…or if it’s yet another vehicle of malevolence to lull us into a false sense of security.

Purchase The Haunted E-Book in, ahem, ebook format at the following retailers:

BOOK RELEASE - Tears of Requiem (Song of Dragons Book II) by Daniel Arenson

TEARS of REQUIEM
SONG of DRAGONS BOOK II
by Daniel Arenson

$2.99 on Amazon.com

-----------------------------------------------

PRODUCT DESCRIPTION

Song of Dragons -- the fantasy series beginning with Blood of Requiem -- continues with a new tale of blood, steel, and dragonfire.

BOOK TWO: TEARS OF REQUIEM

The nightshades cover the land. Demons of smoke and shadow, they fear no sword or arrow. They suck the souls from all who live, like a glutton sucking marrow from bones. The world falls under their darkness.

But the nightshades crave more than random ruin. The souls of mere humans will not sate them. They seek dragons.

Requiem's last dragons, a mere scattering of survivors, have fought off men and griffins. But how can they fight the nightshades, creatures they cannot cut or burn?

FROM THE JOURNAL

On Monday, Daniel Arenson released this second book in his series. This book has already been read by myself, and let me tell you--it is a more than worthy followup to the gripping Blood of Requiem. The review will be published right here on the Journal this coming Saturday, August 27th. I hope to see you all here!

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:

Review: Night of Wolves by David Dalglish

Rating: 4.6 out of 5

What does friendship mean?

Is it sticking up for your cohorts in time of need? Is it putting aside differences and trying to find a common ground? Is it a solemn smile or a firm slap across the face when the other starts to stray? Is it setting aside your own fears and convictions, even though everything about you says to get away, because deep down you just trust this person, for better or worse?

These are the questions David Dalglish asks in Night of Wolves, the first book in his new Paladins series.

With this series, it seems Dalglish is going down a Memento path when it comes to his characters’ stories – aka going backward. This particular book is the tale of Jerico, the paladin of Ashhur we first met (and fell in love with) in The Death of Promises. Wolves takes a few years before the events in the Half-Orc series, and introduces a major plot point that those who’ve digested Dalglish’s work might find unbelievable.

A friendship between paladins of the two polar gods, Ashhur and Karak.

Jerico, it seems, has befriended a young man named Darius while both are stationed in the farming town of Durham, preaching the messages of their particular religions. Theirs is a relationship built upon mutual respect – they learn from each other, protect each other, help each other grow…the gods be damned. And when the wolf-men from the Vile Wedge start crossing the river, threatening the lives of the townsfolk, they must work together even more so than before, which causes just a few moral dilemmas within each of them. But work together they do, because they both realize that without their combined strength, the good men and women of Durham don’t stand a chance.

There are interesting threads all around in this book, such as a new leader rising to lead the pack of wolf-men: Redclaw, a powerful foe with the desire to pull a Moses, bringing his people out of the dead landscape of the Wedge to enter the lush, bountiful forests that lie just out of their reach. There is also the fall of the Citadel, which occurs from afar, the repercussions of which are hinted at, and are haunting. Finally, there is the concluding battle, as the wolf-men gather together and assault the human forces in what is a greatly realized battle sequence.

But none of these threads can compare with Jerico and Darius. They steal the show, and as often happens in Dalglish’s novels, their quiet scenes together are magical. These are two men who grow to love each other over the course of the book, and that brotherly bond is something beautiful to behold. As usual, the author’s asking a philosophical question that not many others do – in this case, can we ever shove the veil of faith out of the way and see our brothers and sisters for what they truly are: fellow human beings, just as deserving of love as any other.

There are many surprisingly tender moments to be seen, and these aspects are what I appreciate the most. On the bad side, some of the battle scenes early on are ho-hum, to the point where I had to fight the desire to skim and turn the page, saying, “Just give me more Jerico and Darius, dammit!” However, I can’t decide if that’s because they really are subpar, or if it’s because the interplay between those two characters is so brilliantly done that everything else seems unimportant. No matter, though, because as I said, Dalglish pulls it out in the end, and the attack (and defense) of Durham is truly a sight to behold, equaling (though not surpassing) those more tender moments

Reading Night of Wolves is a fantastic experience. It’s short and to the point, filled with just about everything I love about the author’s work. It’s dark yet filled with hope, brutal yet compassionate. The words he weaves captivates, pulling us in and making us care about these people. The story is chock-full of metaphor, of the questions of what moral belief is correct, if there’s a correct one at all. This is one point I’m not going to harp on in this review, however, for I’m sure I’ll have plenty of things to say on that very subject when the next book comes out in a couple months.

Once again, I fully recommend Night of Wolves. You’ll enjoy seeing friends and enemies, old and new, and be intrigued by just how the ungodly mess Jerico and Darius have gotten into will resolve itself. It’s an oddity: an edge-of-your-seat fantasy thrill ride and quiet literary piece all rolled into one.

You’d be hard pressed to come up with a better read.

Plot - 9

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 8

Personal Enjoyment – 9

Overall – 46/50 (4.6/5)

Purchase Dance of Wolves in ebook format from:

Review: Anomaly by Thea Atkinson

Rating: 4.7 out of 5

When I received Anomaly by Thea Atkinson as a review copy, I set it aside, pretty much uninterested. I accepted it because the sample was well written, but I was deep into a new fascination with fantasy and other genre fiction at that time, and thought to myself, I don’t really like literary fiction, so this one can wait a while…let me enjoy myself first.

Well, recently I glanced at my to-be-read pile, saw that book still sitting there, and decided it had waited long enough. And when I started reading, all I could think was that I should’ve gotten around to it sooner. It surprised me in so many ways.

Anomaly is the story of J, a ne’er-do-well transgender/recovering drug addict living in rural Nova Scotia. This book doesn’t have so much of a plot in the traditional sense; it’s more an exploration of what it means to be J, taking place during a few tough, stressful, and let’s face it, downright depressing days out of his/her life. No, existence is not easy for our J, who has a big mouth and a bit of a masochistic streak. J’s struggles with his/her sexual identity create a character who’s constantly on the edge of darkness, questioning what it means to be man, to be woman, to be both, or to be nothing at all.

While recovering from a particularly brutal beating, J begins to worry about his/her neighbor, whose colicky baby has suddenly stopped crying. In a feat of humanity uncommon for J (and most addicts, really), he/she strikes up a protective relationship with said neighbor,, a young woman and fellow addict who (hard as it is to believe) is actually more pathetic than J.

The bulk of the story takes place in J’s apartment and a local bar, and we get to meet his/her friend Molly, a boisterous lesbian who, herself, has far-too-long-ignored substance-abuse issues. There is also a kind nurse who is a welcomed voice of reason to the rest of the characters’ insanity, who forms a quite beautiful bond with J and ends up being a lynchpin for suggested further growth, development, healing, and self-discovery.

It might seem like I’m making fun of this book and what lies inside, but I’m truly not. When I call the characters pathetic, it’s because that’s the way Atkinson created them – and purposefully so. Having known quite a few addicts throughout my life, I found their portrayal both accurate and heartbreaking, though not without a sliver of hope. But what I appreciated most of all were the reasons for this addiction, for J in particular. I have no idea what it’s like to not know my gender, to one day know I’m a man and the next know, just as strongly, that I’m a woman. But I can imagine how much pressure that must place on an individual, socially as well as emotionally. Like it or not, we have some pretty strict public codes of conduct in this world when it comes to gender roles, and for those who choose (or have no choice in the matter) to buck them end up paying a high mental and physical cost.

This novel is told in first-person, from J’s viewpoint, and we the reader get to hear his/her thoughts on so many subjects – from the nature of religious icons to the contradictory messages of the LGBT community to how pitiable the life of an addict really is. He/she’s a very reliable source of information, for no matter how screwed up J might be, he/she still has his/her head on straight…mostly. So when J latches onto a single phrase, one used to describe the reasons her neighbor’s baby was taken away, those words gain that much more importance and a new, particularly foreboding meaning.

Failure to thrive.

That phrase is repeated over and over again, and really, that’s what Anomaly is all about. It’s the story of how incomplete we are as people – all of us – and how our standard definitions, though they might help keep things tucked neatly in little boxes, often times hurt us more than anything. It’s about the malfunction of the concept of love and how often we don’t know what that word means. It’s about caring for others more than ourselves, and realizing that when doing so we completely disregard the fact we must care for ourselves, lest every action we make means nothing.

But most of all, it’s the story of life, of the struggle to survive in a world that really has no one’s best interest in mind, a world that, in effect, makes it difficult for anyone to thrive. In that way Anomaly is a difficult and occasionally stomach-churning read. But it’s a learning experience, and very much worth the investment of time.

I’m glad I invested mine.

Plot - 9

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 9

Personal Enjoyment – 9

Overall – 47/50 (4.7/5)

Purchase Anomaly in ebook format from:

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!"

----

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.

Inexpensive Kindle Books - MODEL AGENT $2.99

MODEL AGENT

Average Rating - 4.6 Stars

$2.99

by Sean Sweeney

The human body consists of two-thirds water.

As concertgoers on a steamy day in Boston find out, water can kill as much as it gives life.

A terrorist attack at City Hall Plaza has the authorities perplexed. The government, in response, sends in a capable but young agent – an agent born from the ashes of terrorism itself – to handle it.

But as her partner dies and the terrorist strikes again, Jaclyn Johnson – code named Snapshot – finds herself in a situation she has trained a decade to face: She’s up against a man with enough money to finance a war against his competition. With a deadline in place to stop him – and with a car holding enough hidden tricks to evade capture – Snapshot infiltrates his hidden installation and finds out her target’s true end game, a secret that could have the world fighting over water.

Purchase Model Agent for $2.99 at Amazon.

Inexpensive Kindle Books - THE SHOP 99¢

THE SHOP

Average Rating - 3.8 Stars

99¢

by J. Carson Black

When former Navy SEAL Cyril Landry and his team of assassins enter a chalet in Aspen, Colorado, he recognizes the pop star Brienne Cross asleep on the couch. As he is about to kill her, she wakes and looks into his eyes.

There is that one moment between them. And then she is dead. Someone with a higher pay scale than Landry has been ordering celebrities killed. Now he wants to know why.

At first glance, the shooting death of a police chief in a rundown Florida motel room appears to be an assignation gone wrong. But as detective Jolie Burke plumbs deeper into the crime’s murky undercurrents, she unveils a conspiracy shocking in its scope.

In her relentless pursuit of justice, Burke follows a byzantine path that will take her from the lottery-driven fantasies of a yard maintenance worker to a Panama City Beach missing-persons case and finally to the island compound of her estranged uncle--the Attorney General of the United States.

The death of a celebrity in Aspen has set the table for an orgy of death, destruction, and infamy. As the stakes rise, Jolie finds herself teamed with a killer. Only Jolie and her unlikely partner, Cyril Landry, can dismantle the shadowy entity known as The Shop--before it strikes again.

Purchase The Shop for 99¢ at Amazon.

Review: Dismember by Daniel Pyle

Rating: 5 out of 5

Last year, the offer was put out to me to review books for Shock Totem Magazine. Of course I gladly accepted, and immediately went out looking for material.

I didn’t have to look far. I’d reviewed Down the Drain, the fantastic novelette by Daniel Pyle, here in the Journal, and, knowing that he had a full-length novel out, I took a chance and requested a copy of Dismember from the author.

I am so glad I did.

Dismember is a special book, an oddity in the most wondrous of ways. It’s odd because it bucks the trend of “horror” without losing its niche in the genre, for horror isn’t always about slime-drenched creatures (or bathtub monsters) leaping out and torturing the innocent. No, when horror is done properly it deals with the more important issues, those that keep us commonfolk firmly entrenched in our lives, everything from family to death to the loss of personal freedom. When this happens, as it does in Dismember, the terrors on the page grab hold of you and cause your heart to skip, not because something might jump out of the darkness, but because it lets you know just how thin the thread separating life and death really is.

Dismember is a brisk, almost meditative story of purity corrupted. The tale takes us on the twenty-three year journey of Dave Abbott, the only survivor of a terrible car accident that occurred while traveling with his family in the Colorado Mountains when he was seven years old.

Davy has lived a life of seclusion and fear since that day, trapped in a rickety old house by a twisted mountain man who is only called Mr. Boots. Very few details of Davy’s captivity are explained in the book, but you get the impression that Mr. Boots performed certain illicit acts on little Davy that society would most certainly not condone. I appreciated the lack of exposition in this regard, because I haven’t the desire (or stomach) to read the particulars of child abuse, be that abuse of a sexual nature (which the text suggests) or not. In fact, these circumstances are handled with style, using cursory hints dispersed through the story in flashbacks, which stick with you simply because of what we are not shown, for what our minds create to fill in the blanks is almost always more disturbing than overdone exposition.

The story picks up with Davy on his thirtieth birthday. It seems all those years in captivity haven’t done wonders for poor Davy’s sanity, because he’s hatched a plan to reassemble his dead family through any means necessary. Once this re-gathering begins, Pyle tells his story through five points of view: an eleven-year-old boy named Zach, Mike and Libby Pullman, a divorced couple trying to retain a sense of the familiar after the dissolution of their marriage, Trevor, the Pullman’s son, and Davy, himself.

Of all the different emotional threads in this novel, I found the interplay between the Pullmans to be the most fascinating. At last we’re given a divorced couple who show each other respect instead of filling the air between them with venom and petty discord. Sure, you can tell right off the bat why their marriage failed, but to them raising Trevor, their son, the correct way is paramount. Neither would ever even think of using their child’s adoration as a manipulative tool against the other, which is refreshing…and unusual in a usually cliché-riddled genre.

Despite this aspect of the plot, the driving theme of the entire book is the death and disfigurement of innocence. In a brilliant sliver of storytelling, the author contrasts Davy’s childhood terrors with the stresses he inflicts on Zach and Trevor after he abducts them. This phase of the novel reinforces Davy as a sympathetic scoundrel. On many occasions I found myself openly rooting for him to realize that what he was doing was wrong, because I realized that his state of mind wasn’t his fault. This is a guy who grew up segregated from society, under the watchful eye of a cruel guardian. His only education was through pain, and his only joyful memories are those that he experienced before he was seven years old, leaving a stunted and incomplete person. Even with the amount and degree of brutality he enacts on people, he demonstrates a massive capacity for love and thoughtfulness that actually makes his cruelty seem all the more brutal, for this is a man with psychological arrested development, and it isn’t his fault.

The differing points of view in this book were beautifully executed. The shift between the children and adults were convincing and real-to-life – the kids were kids, and the adults were sufficiently imperfect. The blood and gore is there, and it is vicious, but it doesn’t overwhelm, instead pulling you even further into the story and making your gut clench as you experience these frights alongside the characters. And the ending is a thing of beauty, as well. I was stunned by what happens, not necessarily because it’s laughable or frightening, but because it’s haunting in its unexpectedness (and simplicity). I won’t go into details, but let’s just say Daniel Pyle is a very brave man to end this book the way he did, for I’m sure there are some out there who won’t appreciate it.

This reviewer, however, thought it was brilliant.

To finish things off, I’ll say that Dismember is an unbelievably good book. It reads quickly, as I constantly wanted to flip the page just to see what happens next. It’s a story about life that centers on the mundane and how much we might overlook those simple pleasures given the freedom we’ve been blessed with. It’s a tale of the fractured soul and how much we rely on, and mimic, the family that sprouted us. But most of all it’s simply one hell of a ride, one that I am so glad I took. And for that, this reviewer must give Daniel Pyle some well-deserved congratulations on receiving only the fourth perfect score I’ve ever handed out.

Plot - 10

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 10

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 50/50 (5/5)

(Reviewer’s note: A version of this review appears in Shock Totem #3)

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Review: Kafka's House by Gabriela Popa

Rating: 3.3 out of 5

I find it wonderful to read about a slice of life that is separate from my own, a sliver of reality alien to me in setting and social construction yet human enough to allow me to feel for the characters and wonder what it would be like if I, myself, lived under these circumstances.

In Kafka’s House, Gabriela Popa transports the reader to Romania in the 1960’s, a land where old ways are beginning to be ushered away at the onset of communism. In this tale we meet Sylvia, a precocious 10-year-old with a wandering mind, love of stories, and the unquenchable urge for knowledge apart from the everyday life she’s always known.

The story is simple. Sylvia lives in a small town with her parents and younger sister, Mirela. She spends her time (both in school and out) with her best friend Duck and avoiding a young boy named Florin who she dubs “the enemy”, the perpetrator of much of her youthful angst. She is constantly sent to pick up bors from a pair of older ladies down the street, Ana and Crina. Ana in particular captures Sylvia’s attention, as she is a woman of travel. Ana tells the girl stories of Prague and lets Sylvia see postcards from other countries, as well as occasionally smuggling snippets of wonderment (in the form of pages from a diary) into her bags. Sylvia laps this all up and her thirst for adventure is only heightened.

The most brilliant aspect of the plot is that while her thirst is heightened, Sylvia is inexorably trapped by her everyday life. Her parents are overprotective and the simple truths of her country’s conversion to a communist state and the ever-present threats from neighboring countries don’t exactly make it safe or practical for this child to explore her inner voyager. So she spends much of the book trapped in her own mind, questioning the reasoning for what happens around her and using fairy tales to try and come to grips with what she doesn’t understand.

Author Popa creates a Romania that is wonderfully unfamiliar and yet atmospheric. We the readers are transported to this land and by the end we come to at least a modicum of understanding of what life in this time, in this place, might have been like. She uses a delightfully innocent voice that gives the book the feel of being an autobiographical memoir rather than fictional tale, which this reviewer will go ahead and assume is done on purpose. With the intimacy with which Popa describes these people and their surroundings, this reviewer will go ahead and assume this is a story based directly on the author’s life.

But this voice is also part of the problem with the book. Whereas the story is told through Sylvia’s eyes and in the present tense, there are contemplations and language used that effectively pulled me out of the story every so often, for there is no way a sheltered girl of ten could be possessed of such worldliness. I wish the book had been written in past tense and constructed more in the way of a reflective memoir, because each time I was yanked from the wonderful atmosphere it canceled out what the writing is trying to accomplish.

The format and language used in the book was also a problem for me. Commas are abundant and often misused, words are constantly mashed together, grammar is spotty, and there are sporadic indents and spacing. Also, the author doesn’t use quotes around dialogue, instead relying on an em-dash to connote someone speaking. Taken on its own this is a writing convention I don’t necessarily mind (Cormac McCarthy doesn’t use quotes either, and he’s one of the greatest American writers of this century), but when placed atop the other issues it becomes noticeable, distracting, and confusing. It gives the book a sometimes amateurish feel, and also makes one think that perhaps English is not the author’s native language, which might well be true.

However, with all this being said and despite my rating, I can honestly say that I would recommend this book. It’s a slice of youth and innocence that serves to inform us that no matter how different two cultures might be, in the end we’re all human. We live, we learn, we encounter disappointment, pain, and fear, and yet still we may be able to rise above, even if it’s through nothing but our imagination. You will wonder at the idiosyncrasies that people possess and ponder just how much of the unknown is unknown for a reason, for when faced with dire circumstances and a society living on the edge of fear, morality is sometimes hard to judge. I think that morality play, and the loss your individual voice, may be the main points of the story, and for that alone I can say that I truly enjoyed the time I spent reading this.

Plot - 7

Characters - 9

Voice - 7

Execution - 3

Personal Enjoyment – 7

Overall – 33/50 (3.3/5)

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Review: A Sliver of Redemption by David Dalglish

Rating: 5 out of 5

This is a special review, so let’s start things off with some reflection.

I first reviewed The Weight of Blood by David Dalglish in July of 2010. It was my first foray into fantasy in years, and I didn’t know what to expect. I walked away from the experience in a state of wonder. I didn’t know that a world populated by orcs, elves, and dark magicians could be so captivating, could mean so much. I immediately fell in love with the characters. I understood their background, their point of view, and found it to be, overall, a much more than solid (not to mention valiant) story.

From there I went on to The Cost of Betrayal, and if I hadn’t fallen in love with Dalglish’s unique voice before, by the time I reached the end of that second novel I was hooked. The emotion was palpable, the plot complex, and the message was clear.

This was a story with something to say, and it did so in spades.

The following two books, The Death of Promises and The Shadows of Grace, I plowed through. Though very well done in their own rite, they never quite reached the very high bar that Dalglish set with Betrayal. Not to say they weren’t fantastic stories – they were – but there was just something special about that second book, something that grabbed hold of me and took me down a path that made me care about these characters – their actions and contemplations, their failures and victories – more than any reader really should. By the time I wrote the review for Grace, I’d made up my mind that as talented a storyteller as David Dalglish is, there was no way in hell he could top what he’d achieved so long ago in a book that at the time I stated was one of the five best books I’ve ever read.

So here we are now, and I’m going to tell you that he has surpassed himself. The list has changed, folks, for the narrative that unfolds in A Sliver of Redemption, the fifth and final novel in the Half-Orc opus, is second to absolutely none, including that aforementioned special second book. Hence, it has replaced Betrayal on my list of great novels.

The story of Redemption begins, as always, with the resolution of the cliffhanger from book four. The god Thulos has been released into the world of Dezrel, and he’s in a sour mood. His arrival forces our heroes to retreat and regroup, as they now find themselves faced with the nearly insurmountable odds of having to fight not only the followers of Karak, the god of order, but also an army of demons with a War God on its side.

Qurrah, the miserable half of the brothers Tun, continues on his quest for salvation, which began halfway through The Shadows of Grace when his batty girlfriend Tessanna gave birth to their stillborn child. His doubt in himself only grows here, as he’s forced to confront not only war demons but those inside himself, as well. This is a man who’s inflicted immeasurable horrors upon the world, a man who’s slaughtered the innocent, including (in a roundabout way) his beloved brother Harruq’s own daughter. He doesn’t understand why Harruq should forgive him. Hell, he doesn’t know if he could ever deserve forgiveness. And yet forgiveness is what he’s given, and this turns out to be the impulsion for him to look deeper into himself than he ever did before. What we have here is Qurrah stripped of all pretenses as to who he is. For the first time in the entirety of the series he’s naked, and what he sees in himself he loathes.

As for Harruq, our big lug of sanctity continues on his own quest for forgiveness. What Qurrah fails to realize is that Harruq forgives him because he’s been forgiven, as well. It doesn’t matter that Harruq’s transgressions all occurred four books ago, that his personal body count is thousands upon thousands less than his brother’s. Murder is murder, sin is sin. Just because one individual carries this out on a large scale and another on a much smaller one doesn’t matter. Harruq understands this, and he gives his brother the grace that his understanding (and integrity) demands.

The forces of good hunker down for the coming fight. There are new allies made and old allegiances rekindled, all while Thulos is hard at work recruiting added reinforcements to his army, for the portal to his own world is closed and cannot be reopened. These scenes in between battles are actually the best in the book until the end, as this is where the seeds of Qurrah’s redemption are planted. We get to see all the characters come to grips with their love and loss, we get to see them hesitant and doubtful, we get to see them as real people with the weight of the world on their shoulders. No one is spared from this – not the wizard Tarlak, not paladins Jerico and Lathaar, not Deathmask or Veliana. Not even King Antonil himself is spared. They all have their moments of weakness, and we’re left hanging as to whether the choices they make end up being the correct ones.

The groups end up separating, with most heading up to Mordeina to reclaim the city from Karak’s followers. Qurrah stays behind with the army from Omn, to protect the Bloodbrick Bridge. This is one of many battles that take place in the novel, but it gets special mention here, because this is where Qurrah earns his redemption. It is also, without a doubt, the most perfectly illustrated action (or chain of action) sequence that Dalglish has ever written.

The fight is long and drawn-out, with Velixar guiding his undead, the human army Thulos gathered, and the demon army. It is rife with ingenious strategy, drawn-out stalemates, and edge-of-your seat action. This may sound like a contradiction, but even the sluggish procession of time held me rapt at attention. There are twists and turns, times you feel the heroes will fail, times you think they’ll win, and then it seems certain they’ll fail once more. All this is encapsulated in what might be the most breathless sequence of events I have ever read.

And yet through it all, the entire battle – and I mean all of it – is encapsulated by Qurrah. Finally, after more than four hundred thousand words worth of him faltering and hating his own existence, he shows the intestinal fortitude to sacrifice himself for his fellow man. He wears himself to the bone and refuses to quit defending his charges, even when things seem most dire. When the battle finally ends, when he’s given everything he can (and then some), he goes on to offer up the last gift he has left. It is a moment of selflessness five books in the making, and he goes about it with reserve and respect, much like a hero should. Some would say, “finally!” to that. This reviewer, understanding the nature of his character and the unfortunate circumstances of his life, simply let out a cheer and said, “YOU ARE FORGIVEN.” This was Qurrah’s moment of glory, his chance to not repeal all his transgressions, but pay for them. And pay for them he does.

However, this being a David Dalglish novel, Qurrah’s work is not done, and neither are his trials. After all, this guy did bring about virtually every hardship the peoples of this world experienced. You’d be kidding yourself if you thought the author would take it easy on him.

In the end, the city is retaken and a final, massive battle is waged at the gates (and above) Mordeina. I said the battle of Bloodbrick was the most perfect battle Dalglish ever wrote; if that is true, the siege of Mordeina is by far his most epic. There are uprisings and mythical creatures, both heavenly and not. There is heroism aplenty and seething vengeance to be had. This all plays out over only thirty pages, and yet it seems so much bigger than that. The writing here is amazing. There are no wasted words, no extraneous descriptions. Everything just flows. The whole series has boiled down to this very moment, to the time when the cruel forces of Karak, now joined by Thulos, face off once and for all against the magnanimous armies of Ashuur. The payoff is brilliant, and also foretold. If anyone remembers the stand at the gates of Veldaren way back in book three, it serves as the perfect presage to what happens next.

I’m tempted to say that words can’t describe how good this book is, but of course I’m now writing a review, so that in and of itself is a lie. But trust me, it’s wonderful, the best Dalglish has ever written. The emotional threads aren’t only equal to those in The Cost of Betrayal, but actually surpass them, which I thought impossible.

And yet it is not sorrow that I felt as I swallowed these themes. There were no tears of mourning shed, no shudders while I held my family close. Instead there exists a pervasive sense of kindship, of hope, both for the loved ones now passed on and those whose lives we’ve written off as worthless. There is one particular scene towards the end that brought real tears to my eyes, for it is among the most beautiful and bittersweetly hopeful events I’ve ever read in literature. It made me think of my own past, my own lost loves, and wish I would have the opportunity to relish in their presence once more, if only for a moment. In a real way it is confirming the importance of our lives; in a selfish way, it allows us to feel wanted, to feel that we’ve done well with what we’ve been given, and gives us the confidence to move on.

In the past, when writing reviews of these books, I’ve gone out of my way to describe (sometimes in annoying detail) the religious premises presented within. On this occasion I will only say that good wins out over evil, though evil as Dalglish describes it is sometimes hard to define. There is not a single character that has no virtues (well, maybe one, but I’ll just forget about him). Even Velixar, the prophet of Karak and the biggest antagonist in the novel, is in many ways a sympathetic character. He has given his life (and unlife) to the one he believes in, and he actually believes he is doing the right thing.

Here’s the conundrum; both major religions of the realm are incomplete. Both have positive and negative points. Sure, the positive is exaggerated in Ashhur’s followers and the negative in Karak’s, but let’s be frank here – both sects have their failings. The truth of the matter is, there needs to be order, even in forgiveness, and there has to be mercy in ardor. This is why I have a sneaking suspicion that the tale of these two opposing gods is nowhere close to being finished. I hope they someday do find a resolution, because honestly, when and if they do, it might be the most perfect belief system ever created.

But that’s almost beside the point. This story – hell, this whole series – isn’t about warring gods, even though that was the backdrop. No, it’s about two underprivileged kids who go in opposing directions. It follows their failures and triumphs, their mistakes and good decisions. It’s about love, family, friendship, trust, and sacrifice. Though disguised as a work of dark fantasy, I don’t think I’ve ever read a series that ended up having such a positive message as this one. It’s a triumph of literature. I tell you this much in complete honesty. And A Sliver of Redemption is more than a final novel; it is, in many ways, a philosophical text, a learning tool. Through it one can learn of the goodness, the beauty, the love that exists in the world, even through layer after layer of ugliness. We can examine our relationships and see that there is no correct way to go about it, be it the idealized bond between Harruq and Aurelia, the journey of pain and loss between Qurrah and Tessanna, or the call to righteous duty that both joins and divides Lathaar and Mira (Tessanna’s twin goddess). And what is the one thing that binds them all together? Love. Love allows them to overcome the greatest of odds, to make the difficult decisions, to look past each others’ failings and choose the path most righteous. Yes, my friends, at the end of the day it is love, between lovers, brothers, family, friends, and allies, that wins the day.

And it is with great love that I call A Sliver of Redemption the greatest book Dalglish has ever written. Hell, it might be the best he’ll ever write in his lifetime. The emotion is real, the cost is high, and the payoff at the end is both satisfying and hopeful.It's the perfect end to a fantastic series, by all means the best set of stories I’ve ever read. In the eyes of this reviewer, it even blows away The Dark Tower, which I adored. And when I say blows away, I mean there isn’t a comparison. None. Nope. Not even close.

I can’t think of a more fitting end to this review than that.

Plot - 10

Characters - 10

Voice - 10

Execution - 10

Personal Enjoyment – 10

Overall – 50/50 (5/5)

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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.