I have managed to acquire all but the first two books in hardcover, but those are the two that are most in need of replacement. Luckily, the Picador editions are absolutely gorgeous, inside and out, with vibrant covers and elegant, readable type on the inside. Even more luckily, these books, which retail for $16.25 in Canada, became available at BookCloseouts.com, an online bargain book site, for $4.99 apiece. Best deal ever, because I couldn’t justify to myself spending $65+tax on four books I already own in other editions. And believe me–I tried.

I wish Picador would release the later books in the series in the same edition, but I think I read somewhere that they don’t own the rights to publish them which, if true, is a pity. Anyway, enjoy the beautiful cover art and a couple of (slighly blurry) shots of the inside. I’ll be over here, cackling over my loot.

Cover of The Beekeeper's Apprentice

Cover of A Monstrous Regiment of Women

Cover of A Letter of Mary

Cover of The Moor

Interior of A Letter of Mary

Interior of The Beekeeper's Apprentice

Although this book has some flaws, it’s an excellent first novel, and a solid introduction to the Hungry City Chronicles. The premise of the quartet is that, in a post-apocalyptic world where resources are scarce, cities have become predators. Built on wheels, treads, or runners, cities and towns hunt each other, devouring smaller prey to use their food, metal, and fuel.

Philip Reeve does a marvellous job with the concept, making it both entertaining and believable. I’m a fan of steampunk, and the technology and gadgetry in Mortal Engines has a wonder and magnificence that kept me glued to the pages. (I think my favourite innovation was the word “urbivore”–an eater of cities. Reeve clearly has a good sense of humour, but he keeps it under control; although the book has its funny moments, its tone is serious.)

It was a dark, blustery afternoon in spring, and the city of London was chasing a small mining town across the dried-out bed of the old North Sea…

The great traction city London is on the move again. It has been lying low, skulking in the hills to avoid the bigger, faster, hungrier cities loose in the Great Hunting Ground. But now, as its great mountain of metal lumbers along in hot pursuit of its quarry, the sinister plans it has harboured for years can finally start to unfold behind its soaring walls…

When Tom Natsworthy saves the life of his hero, Thaddeus Valentine, he doesn’t expect his reward to be being shoved down a waste chute and left for dead while his city roars away without him. Desperate to get back, he makes a temporary alliance with Hester Shaw, the girl whose thirst for revenge against Valentine led to Tom’s predicament in the first place.

The world-building in Mortal Engines is superb. The idea of traction cities is inventive, original, and just plain fun, and Reeve develops it with lots of detail. Unfortunately, characterization suffers a little as a result. The characters are all interesting and vividly-drawn, but none of them achieve the kind of depth I would have liked to see.

Ideally, I think Mortal Engines should have been much longer, with more time to explore all the places Tom and Hester visit, and to get to know them and all the people they encounter. What this book needed was more exploration of London, Airhaven, Shan Guo, and even Tunbridge Wheels, and more time to focus on Tom, Hester, Katherine, Bevis, and especially Anna Fang, who I would have liked to get to know better. Many events in the book would have made a stronger impact.

Other than that, I thoroughly enjoyed Mortal Engines, and I look forward to Predator’s Gold, Infernal Devices, and A Darkling Plain.

It had been a while since I read this, so when I bought a hardcover copy, I re-read it. It was just as much fun as I remembered.

Carola Dunn writes a series of charming mysteries set in England during the 1920’s, one of my favourite historical periods. I love the clothes, I love the manners, and I love reading about the effects of World War I on English life. The books in this series are definitely “cozies”, without the gritty realism that I find so alien and depressing. The main character is the Honourable Miss Daisy Dalrymple, the daughter of a viscount who died in the Influenza pandemic. Daisy’s brother, who was to inherit the title and family estate, and who would have provided for Daisy, died in the trenches. Daisy takes advantage of the loosening of social mores to embark on a writing career that would have been unthinkable for a woman of her breeding a decade earlier.

Fall of a Philanderer is one of the later books in the series, so Daisy has already met, fallen in love with, and married a Scotland Yard detective, Alec Fletcher. While on holiday at the seaside, Alec and Daisy discover the dead body of a serial adulterer, who seems to have been pushed off a cliff. Given his behaviour, the only surprise is that no jealous husband, enraged father, or jilted lover had bashed him over the head long since. Alec, forced to cut short his holiday and take over the case, has only too many suspects to choose from.

I’d recommend starting this series at the beginning, but it’s not necessary, and this book is as a good a place as any.

I can’t say I was very impressed. I enjoyed it even less than Pride and Prescience, because it lacked even the small amound of suspense in that book.

At Mrs. Bennett’s urging, Elizabeth and Darcy agree to sponsor Kitty for the Season, hoping to find her a good husband who won’t mind her small dowry. Kitty is drawn to one of the very first men she meets: Mr. Henry Dashwood of Norland. He seems to feel the same way, but after they become engaged, he changes out of all recognition.

I won’t give away the cause of Henry’s personality change, although it wouldn’t be much of a spoiler, since Bebris makes it perfectly obvious right from the beginning exactly what’s going on. Unfotunately, she doesn’t choose to give Elizabeth and Darcy the same insight she shares with her readers, so they spend most of the book completely unaware of the supernatural reason for Henry’s behaviour.

I really, really hate knowing more than the characters do, and this story gives more away to the reader than just about anything else I’ve ever read. Gothic novels, although not necessarily examples of great literature, are at least supposed to be mysterious. When the sweet, kind hero suddenly starts acting like a jerk, I want to be able to wonder why. Unfortunately, Suspense and Sensibility contained no suspense at all.

To be fair, I actually enjoyed the beginning of the novel. I kind of wish Carrie Bebris would write straight Regency romances instead of gothic mysteries, because I think she’d be much better at it.

This collection of one novella and five short stories is the sequel to Mind Fuck. As I mentioned in that review, almost the entire series is available online, but the print versions are much nicer.

Quid Pro Quo

The book begins with a novella which isn’t yet available online–it was written specifically for the print release, so that loyal fans of the online version would get a little something new as incentive for buying the book.

Liz Carey, a Specialist Investigator for I&I’s Corporate Fraud Department requests Toreth’s help with a joint CF/General Criminal investigation into a corporate kidnapping case. The kidnapping, rape, and dismemberment of 17-year-old Sofie Kenward would ordinarily be a job for the civilian police, rather than the Investigation & Interrogation division, but the possibility of corporate sabotage or fraud make it I&I’s business.

The team’s best lead seems to be a connection to the sensational kidnapping of Louise Selman fifteen years earlier, but her father wants the case buried–and when one of the Selmans, of Selman-Sterntech, one of the Administration’s more influential corporations, wants something buried, it’s more than an investigator’s job is worth to go digging.

“Quid Pro Quo” is another complex, twisty mystery, and quite satisfying in that respect. Surprisingly Warrick, the series’s other protagonists and Toreth’s regular lover, doesn’t appear in this novella beyond the first chapter. It makes sense, because so early in their relationship, when they haven’t even moved beyond their Friday night assignations, there’s no reason for Toreth to discuss his work or for Warrick to become involved in his cases the way he occasionally does later. I actually found the mystery so interesting that I didn’t even notice Warrick’s absence until the story was over.

Friday

This is quite a short piece, only eight pages long. A few months after “Quid Pro Quo”, Warrick thinks about some of the changes in his life since he’s been–involved–with Toreth. Looking forward to leaving SimTech for one of their regular Friday meetings, he has one last meeting with Cele, an old friend of his sister’s…and she’s sure to notice the fading bruises on his face.

“Friday” is one of the series’s first attempts to answer a recurring question: how can someone like Warrick, a fairly decent, ordinary human being, involve himself with someone like Toreth, a sociopath and professional torturer? Warrick will eventually come up with some answers, later on in the series.

Pancakes

Definitely no mysteries in this short story: Pancakes is all about relationships. Mainly, Toreth’s relationship (such as it is) with Warrick, but also some nice scenes between Toreth and the inestimable Sara, his admin (i.e. his secretary/personal assistant.) Toreth meets Warrick’s sister, Dillian, and in one of the funniest scenes from the series, Toreth meets Sara’s new cat.

For pretty much the first time since Mind Fuck, Warrick is forced to confront what Toreth does for a living, which doesn’t make him happy.

Surprises

Toreth proves his ability to maintain a semi-permanent relationship while taking commitment-phobia to new extremes when he has Sara help him pick out a gift for Warrick:

“Buy him something kitchen-y, then.”

Immediately he regretted telling her about his sudden gift-giving impulse, but it was much too late. Something kitchen-y. Something nice and domestic. For a moment he actually felt sick, the overly sweet smell of the melting chocolate catching at the back of his throat. “I wouldn’t know where to start,” he said, when the feeling passed.

Once again, no investigation. That’s not a complaint–as good a mystery writer as she’s proved herself to be, Francis is so good at writing complex, dysfunctional relationships that her short stories never feel like there’s anything lacking.

There are a lot of sex scenes, which usually aren’t my cup of tea. My automatic, completely involuntary reaction to graphic sex in a story is usually to skim rapidly through it–not because they make me uncomfortable, but because they’re almost always boring. Most of the time I don’t even notice I’m doing it. In The Adminstration, though, I really don’t mind them; this is one author who manages to make graphic bondage & donmination sex scenes interesting and funny, using them to explore characters and their relationships without putting me to sleep with tedious detail.

Family

For some reason, I’d forgotten how much I love this story. Toreth’s first meeting with Warrick’s family pretty much defines uncomfortable, with side orders of horror and hilarity. And the ending was so unexpected the first time I read, but so perfect, and it still makes me smile.

Family, besides being a really good character-driven short story, sets up a fair amount of background information that becomes important in some of the later novels.

Mirror, Mirror

This author really does have a way with sex scenes. Toreth just has so much fun setting up elaborate scenes for Warrick that I have fun reading about it. And the last line is just perfect.

It’s hard for me to evaluate this collection as a whole, because I’ve read all but the first story many times before, but I get the sense that it would work just as well for a first-time reader as it did for me. There’s a very nice progression in Toreth and Warrick’s relationship through the book, mirroring the ever-greater depth of characterization as the reader gets to know them better. The last two stories, Family Values and the very short Mirror, Mirror work well together to bring the collection to a close while leaving some interesting avenues for later stories.

This book won’t really make much sense without some of the background information from Mind Fuck, and it also contains spoilers for that novel, so the two should definitely be read in order. Quid Pro Quo is available to order from Casperian Books and from other major online booksellers like Amazon.

Except for the novella “Quid Pro Quo”, all the stories from this collection are available online (including “Unlucky Break“, the short story which became the first chapter of “Quid Pro Quo”).

This is my first time participating in the R.I.P. challenge, but I enjoyed the Once Upon a Time challenge so much this spring that I’ve been looking forward to it ever since. The challenge doesn’t officially start until September 1, but I’ve already read two books that fit the bill, so I guess I’ll be doing Peril the First:

Read four books of any length, from any subgenre of scary stories that you choose: mystery, suspense, thriller, dark fantasy, gothic, horror, supernatural.

Here’s my list of completed and possibly reads:

• Pride and Prescience by Carrie Bebris (Gothic mystery/Austen pastiche)
• Mind Fuck by Manna Francis (Near-future dystopia/police procedural)
• Quid Pro Quo by Manna Francis (ditto)
• Mortal Engines by Philip Reeve
• Tales of H.P. Lovecraft
• The Sandman by Neil Gaiman

There is a review site for this challenge.

This isn’t an easy book to summarize, and for once, I think the book’s blurb actually does a good job:

There are no bad guys or good guys. There are only better guys and worse guys.

One of the worse guys is Val Toreth. In a world in which torture is a legitimate part of the investigative process, he works for the Investigation and Interrogation Division, where his colleagues can be more dangerous than the criminals he investigates.

One of the better guys is Keir Warrick. His small corporation, SimTech, is developing a “sim” system that places users in a fully immersive virtual reality. A minnow in a murky and dangerous pond, he is only beginning to discover how many compromises may be required for success.

Their home is the dark future dystopia of New London. A totalitarian bureaucracy controls the European Administration, sharing political power with the corporations. The government uses violence and the many divisions of the feared Department of Internal Security to maintain control and crush resistance. The corporations fight among themselves, using lethal force under the euphemism of “corporate sabotage,” uniting only to resist attempts by the Administration to extend its influence over them.

Toreth and Warrick are more natural enemies than allies. But mutual attraction and the fight for survival can create unlikely bonds.

The story begins when Toreth and Warrick meet at a conference where Warrick makes a presentation about the new sim technology being developed by his corporation. A proposition by Toreth leads to sex, but in Toreth’s mind, that doesn’t constitute enough involvement to turn down a case involving SimTech. A student intern at the corporation has been found dead while using the sim, and the similarity to a previous death that was ruled accidental is enough to bring in I&I.

Mind Fuck is actually the first novel in a series of stories, of varying length, which make up The Administration series. I first read it online, and it is still available to be read for free. I’ve been in love with this series for a few years now, so I was delighted to find that a dead tree version is now available.

I ordered Mind Fuck and its sequel directly from Casperian Books, a self-publisher small press. I was a little concerned about the quality of the books, and the shipping time, since they ship only through US media mail. I needn’t have worried; the books arrived in exactly three weeks, reasonable for a package shipped from the US to Canada. The editions are wonderful, with beautiful covers and a crisp, clean internal layout that I find very pleasing, and very appropriate to the content. Each of the books came with a matching bookmark, printed with the book’s cover on one side, and the blurb on the back, which I thought was a very nice touch. I was also impressed with the quality; it’s my first time ordering online direct from a press, and I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

Even the price was reasonable–$15 US apiece compares favourably to the standard Canadian price for trade paperbacks, and even with the shpping charge included, they were pretty much equal to what I’d pay at an ordinary brick-and-mortar bookstore.

Mind Fuck is set in the near future, and has some of the best science fiction world-building I’ve ever read. Although the technology is new, most of it is clearly the result of believable advances in today’s technology. There is mention of terraforming of Mars and of deep-sea habitats, but the only new tech that gets any focus is the sim. And what a shiny new piece of tech it is.

The way the author writes about it, you would think she had already built and programmed a sim system herself. Without going into tedious detail, she gives an amazing idea of the scope of the sim project and the limitations and liabilities that come along with it. It really is hard to believe that no such system exists in the real world. That it all came out of her head.

The same is true for all the day-to-day details of the world of The Adminstration; from criminal law to corporate contracts, a few well-placed details make the Administration so real it’s hard to believe it doesn’t exist. The characters, too, though they are so different from anyone I’ve ever met or imagined, are walking, talking, breathing people so alive I wouldn’t be surprised if they walked off the page and into my living room.

I’m not a fan of police procedurals, nor dystopian fiction, nor books with graphic sex scenes, yet this novel is all three, and somehow I love it because of, rather than in spite of, those traits. Part of it is that Mind Fuck is, at its foundation, a difficult, fascinating, engaging mystery. The first time I read it, yes, I wanted to know what happened to the characters, and more about the world, but I also wanted, quite desperately, to know the solution to the case. When the book did give me the answer, it was perfectly satisfying, even though I hadn’t seen it coming.

The police procedural format is, surprisingly, one of my favourite aspects of the book. I find the world of the Administration fascinating, and no part of it more so than its criminal investigation procedures. Toreth is also a great viewpoint character, because his thoughts about his interviewees and the about the policies he has to follow are always amusing.

As for the dystopia aspect…Mind Fuck isn’t 1984 or Brave New World. It’s not a cautionary tale, and both Toreth and Warrick are more privileged than victimized by the system, so I find it interesting rather than depressing. The sex scenes, although they are graphic, are not gratuitous. When sex is shown, it always advances the plot or deepens our understanding of the characters in some important way.

I could write much more about how utterly amazing this book is, but ultimately, all I really want to say is: go read it. As I said above, it is available to read online for free, or you can buy a print copy directly from Casperian Books, or from Amazon (though the author and publisher get a bit more money if you buy direct from Casperian.)

I generally avoid all Jane Austen pastiches because they are usually crap. At the age of thirteen, having devoured all six of her novels, I tried a few of the modern sequels written by Emma Tennant and her ilk, and gave them up in disgust. And anything that I considered too sappy, implausible, and contrived to be bothered with in the eighth grade is something I would not now touch with a ten-foot pole.

However, I read good things about Carrie Bebris’s series, which now consists of three novels, with a fourth soon to be published. Featuring the new Mr. and Mrs. Darcy as the protagonists, these books add supernatural mysteries to Austen’s world, which the Darcys must unravel. Through the course of the series, they meet characters from the other novels.

The switch from romance/social satire to supernatural detective story is what makes this series more tolerable than other Austen continuations, since it sticks to imitating Austen’s style which, though tricky, is far easier than successfully reproducing her substance. Even the style isn’t perfect: unfortunately, a number of modern words and idioms break the flow of the narrative. The biggest flaw, though, is in the presentation of Elizabeth, whose sudden belief in the supernatural is entirely out of character. And anyone who’s read Northanger Abbey will appreciate why mixing genuine supernatural occurrences with Austen characters doesn’t work well.

Still, the book was entertaining enough, once I forced myself to suspend my disbelief. After their wedding, Darcy and Elizabeth are looking forward to starting their new life together at Pemberley, so they’re disappointed when Caroline Bingley’s sudden engagement and wedding spoil their plans. Only hours after the wedding, the Darcys find Caroline wandering in an unsavoury area of London, with no explanation for her presence. Her strange behaviour soon escalates, and mysterious and dangerous events plague a house-party at Netherfield, culminating in the murder of one of the guests.

I am clearly not the ideal audience for this series, being (a) an Austen fan(atic), (b) persnickety about historical detail and period tone, and (c) less than enthused by supernatural mysteries. Pride and Prescience was okay, and actually had some genuinely funny moments, but it just wasn’t my kind of book. I also found the solution too obvious, but it’s at least believable that none of the characters would have figured it out. (It’s not so much that the characters were dim, but that for some reason the author felt the need to hit the reader over the head with really obvious clues–when in fact there was no need to give the reader any kind of clues at all, much less to hammer them home like that.)

Verdict? Meh. I’m reading the sequels, but I advise against spending money on this one, unless you’re sure it’s your cup of tea. I’ve heard the next two are better, so…we’ll see.

I bought a used copy of this book a couple of weeks ago, because I had very fond memories of it from my childhood. This was one of those books that I never owned, but which I regularly checked out of the library to re-read. Now that I’ve read it as an adult, I’m having trouble remembering why.

This book is the fourth in a series. My local library only had this one, so although I read each of the other books at least once, this is the one I loved, and the only one I really remember. It’s clearly intended for very young children, and I think it would be entertaining for the 6-8 crowd.

I’d forgotten how young I must have been when I liked this book, although looking back now, it makes sense. I very clearly remember that I had read this book many, many times before I ever found out what the word “flunked” meant, which shows how young I was. (For all my fellow word nerds, I’m pretty sure “flunked” isn’t a Canadian word, but it enters our vocabulary around the time we start watching American after-school specials set in junior high/high school. The Canadian word is “failed”, and to be even geekier, it’s not something you can do to someone–you fail the course, the teacher doesn’t fail you.)

Anyway, this series is great for younger kids, teaching them some environmental and social responsibility as well as telling them a sci-fi adventure story. I very clearly remember that this book was the first time I’d heard the radical idea that many people in the world were starving, not because humanity can’t produce enough food to feed them, but because we make political and economic choices to let them starve. The book has other important messages, but that one, and the story’s staunch anti-war attitude, are the ones that stuck with me.

I’ve kind of said this before, but once you’ve read one Miss Silver mystery, you’ve read them all. That’s not necessarily a bad thing–familiarity can be comforting and even entertaining–but it makes it hard to write reviews.

This wasn’t one of my favourite Miss Silvers, but it wasn’t bad, either. I didn’t find the mystery very mysterious, but I enjoyed the old-fashioned setting and the characters, in a mild way.