Review: "The Fall" by Guillermo Del Toro and Chuck Hogan

Guillermo Del Toro and Chuck Hogan return with the second installment of their trilogy about an epidemic that has turned people into walking vampiric viruses, “The Fall” ($26.99, Harper).

In the first installment, “The Strain,” the scene was set with a creature known as the Master arriving in New York City and unleashing the virus on an unsuspecting public, creating waves of creatures that are part vampire, part zombie. The outbreak has now spread to all corners of the globe, and with governments scrambling to cover up the truth about the virus and calmed panic citizens, the world doesn’t stand a chance.

With the setup out of the way, the second installment starts with a bang. Ephraim Goodweather, a former agent with the Center for Disease Control and now a wanted man due to some political wrangling after he spoke the truth about the virus in the first book, is torn between trying to rid the world of the virus on his own and protecting his son from his ex-wife, who has been turned and is now stalking her son across the city. He’s joined by aging Holocaust survivor and vampire hunter Abraham Setrakian, who has been obsessed with destroying the Master since he first met him at a German concentration camp, a former New York City exterminator Vasiliy Fet, who has discovered that ridding the city of vampires is much like ridding the city of rats, and Eph’s CDC partner Nora, who he has a complicated relationship with.

Review: "The Bird of the River" by Kage Baker

Unfortunately, my introduction to the works of Kage Baker comes with the posthumous release of her latest novel “Bird of the River” ($25.99, Tor).

The book follows the coming-of-age tale of a teenage girl named Eliss, who is caring for her addict mother and her half-breed younger brother Alder. Since the death of Eliss’ father, the family has moved from place to place, living with various “uncles,” some good, some downright nasty. In a last-ditch effort to save the family, Eliss manages to find a captain that will give her mother a second chance as a diver on the Bird of the River, a barge charged with keeping the river clear of snags and obstructions. But a diving accident leaves Eliss and Alder orphaned and having to find their own way aboard the ship.

Review: "Dragon Haven" by Robin Hobb

With “Dragon Haven” ($27.99, Eos), Robin Hobb continues her tale of a ragtag band of social outcasts and malformed dragons on their quest to find the mythical city of Kelsingra, where once dragons and humans lived in peace.

In the first book of the two-part series, “Dragon Keeper,” the dragon Tintaglia led a group of serpents from the sea to cocoon in the Rain Wilds and become dragons, a species gone missing from the world until Tintaglia herself hatched. But the dragons that came from this hatching were small and misshapen, pale imitations of the former glory the creatures once were. After they became a drain on the local towns, the leaders chose a group of young Rain Wilders, marked by their harsh existence with scales, claws and other unusual deformities, to lead the dragons to the ancient city in the creatures’ ancestral memory.

With the setup out of the way, “Dragon Haven” opens on the arduous journey, which finds both the dragons and their human companions growing, maturing and changing. Despite mounting tension among the keepers caused by their would-be leader Greft, who is under the influence of a hunter who has tagged along in hopes of bringing back dragon parts to sell, things seem to be going as well as could be expected. The dragons are growing stronger and more capable as they travel and hunt their own food, as are the humans that tend them. Things go awry, though, when a wall of acid-tainted water cascades down the unpredictable Rain Wilds River and slams into the expedition, dashing their boats and supplies and scattering them. The hardships in the wake of the wave spur the real change in both people and dragons. Secrets are revealed, new bonds are formed, and no one involved in the expedition remains untouched for good or ill.

In “Dragon Keeper,” Hobb presented dragons that were much more human than the average depiction of the mythical beast. Her dragons had weaknesses, failings and doubts, and were more relatable. In “Dragon Haven,” a metamorphosis begins that brings the dragons closer to the haughty, arrogant and proud race of creatures that you expect, but at the same time, there remain flaws that stand out like the chink in Smaug’s armor. Though the focus of the book remains with the humans, it’s almost more interesting to watch the changes that take place in the dragons and how they develop. Then again, it could just be because dragons continue to fascinate me after all these years, and I’m always interested in a slightly different take on them. Hobb certainly delivers that.

Ultimately, though, no matter how interesting the concept, you also must have a good story, and that’s where the human characters come in. The twists, turns, secrets and deceptions do occasionally wander a little too far toward soap opera melodramatics, but in the end it all comes together to create a satisfying story.

“Dragon Haven” leaves as many questions about what will happen to the dragons and their keepers as it answers. I’d be interested to revisit at some point down the road and see how things turn out.

Review: "Dead in the Family" by Charlaine Harris

I guess everyone needs a break now and then, and certainly Charlaine Harris’ telepathic waitress Sookie Stackhouse has hit a lull in the series’ latest entry “Dead in the Family” ($25.95, Ace).
It’s not that there’s not plenty of action in the book. Quite a bit happens. In fact, the story is kind of like a supernatural family reunion as more fairy members of Sookie’s family show up, members of the vampire Eric’s family arrive to cause trouble, some secret’s about Bill Compton’s family are revealed and even Merlotte’s owner Sam is having troubles with his family because of the weres and shifters going public.

Among all that, there are also larger problems in the world of the books. Most notably, some are pushing for registration of the two-natured, just as they have the vampires who went public. Eric is still having troubles with his new boss in the vampire world, Victor Madden, and there’s upheaval in the Shreveport pack of weres.

Despite all that, “Dead in the Family” seems to plod just a little. There are flashes of action here and there, but it just doesn’t quite have the same spark that some of the previous volumes had. It’s more like a breather in between the explosive action that ended the previous volume and things that are on the horizon.

It also seems to me that there’s a little more of HBO’s “True Blood,” based on the books, seeping into Harris’ work in this volume. Certainly for those of us who both read the books and watch the series, the differing storylines can get a bit confusing. For example, I was almost sure that Bill had told Sookie in a previous volume how he was turned, but now I’m thinking that might have been in “True Blood,” and either way, the story that I’m remembering differs from the one told in this book.

At the end of the day, “Dead in the Family” is still an enjoyable read and it keeps me interested in the continuing story of Sookie and all of the strangeness that surrounds her. But it doesn’t leave me with that same sense of excitement that some of the earlier tales did. Hopefully things will get back on track with the next volume.

Review: "Bite Me: A Love Story" by Christopher Moore

In the past few years, I’ve often bemoaned the fact that the fantasy section of the bookstore has become more like the vampire section. While there seems to be a major love affair with vampires right now, I’m, quite frankly, sick of them. So it’s a little strange to me that I find myself immersed in three straight books that feature vampires. The second is Christoper Moore’s “Bite Me: A Love Story” ($23.99, William Morrow).

The book is the sequel to 2007’s “You Suck: A Love Story” and “Bloodsucking Fiends: A Love Story,” originally published in 1995. It continues to follow the story of vamps Jody and Tommy, a young couple trying to make it as creatures of the night in San Francisco. If you missed “You Suck,” don’t worry, a summary from Jody and Tommy’s minion Abigail von Normal (also known by her day-slave name of Allison Greene), leads off the book. It’s written in her own special blend of goth, valley girl and netspeak, as are all her entries throughout the book.

Abby, her confused goth friend Jared and her geeky boyfriend Steve, who she calls “Foo Dog,” have encased Jody and Tommy in bronze to satisfy her romantic notion of keeping them together forever. While they’re imprisoned in the statue, Chet, an unusually large stray cat, has been busy. He and his homeless owner were attacked by the master vampire that turned Jody in the previous volume. He’s been building an army of vampiric cats that are roaming the streets of San Francisco and killing homeless people.

Unfortunately for Abby and Moore’s colorful cast of characters -- including a homeless man known as the Emperor, a group of vampire hunters that work at the local Safeway called the Animals and a couple of local police detectives who are in on the vampire secret – the horde of bloodsucking cats has caught the attention of another group of vampires who have arrived in San Francisco to eliminate the problem and everyone who knows about it.

Like all of Moore’s work, “Bite Me” has a lot of fun with its subject. While still presenting an enjoyable story, Moore also makes a little fun of the current obsession with vampires and the conventions of the vampire mythos. While I have to admit that the silliness of Abby’s shallow angsty ramblings does get a little tired at points, I’d rather read them than the angsty ramblings in, say, one of the “Twilight” books.

While I much prefer when Moore takes on loftier subjects with his humor, as in my personal favorites “Lamb” and “Fool,” his work is always enjoyable. This one’s a quick, fun read that offers you a chance to have a laugh at the expense of vampire stories that take themselves too seriously.

Review: "Changes" by Jim Butcher

After a series goes on long enough, there inevitably comes a time when a drastic shift is needed to keep it from going stale. That time for Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files comes with its 12th book, “Changes” ($25.95, Roc).

The shift begins with the book’s title, which drops the two-word puns of the previous 11 volumes. It mirrors a shift in the demeanor of the books. Things are about to get much darker and much more serious for Chicago’s only wizard for hire.

Harry gets a gut-punch with the first line of the book where he’s informed that he has an eight-year-old daughter that he’s never known. The news is delivered by her mother, Harry’s old flame Susan, now a half-vampire member of a secret warrior society that hunts Red Court vampires. The child, Maggie, has been abducted by the vampires and, naturally, they have nasty plans for her.

Normally, Harry would have plenty of backup as the White Council of wizards and the Red Court vampires have been at war, but he’s unable to call on the aid because Duchess Arianna Ortega of the Red Court has sued the White Council for peace. The request has split the council, with many seeing a hope to end the war that has decimated their ranks and others seeing a trick by the vampires. It’s up to Harry and a handful of friends to rescue the girl, a task made even more difficult by vampire plots that have led to an FBI investigation into the destruction of his office building among other complications.

I say this book has a more serious tone, but fans of the series shouldn’t be worried about that. Harry is still the wisecracker that he’s always been, and it’s loaded with references to science fiction and fantasy classics like “Star Wars,” “The Lord of the Rings” and “The Wizard of Oz.” There are plenty of chuckles and light-hearted moments to be had during a more intense story line. Despite all that’s going on around him, Harry is still Harry, after all.

On the other hand, there are events that happen in the book that will, necessarily, change things for Harry forever. I won’t give those events away, but they make it very hard to believe that he’ll come out of this as the same low-rent, high-powered private investigator that he’s been for the better part of the first 12 books. He’s now entangled with far too many greater powers in the supernatural world, and those entanglements promise to make things even more treacherous for him.

The strength of Butcher’s stories continues to be the fast pacing and fascinating characters that he’s delivered throughout the series. The centerpiece of “Changes,” though, may be the final battle which is more grand and sweeping than anything we’ve seen before in the Dresden series. It pays homage to his love of more traditional fantasy and delivers a spectacular finale to the story.

Serious “Changes” are definitely coming for our old friend, but having given me some of my favorite tales over the last decade or so, I’ll trust that Butcher will take the the stories in an even better direction.

Review: "Dragon Keeper" by Robin Hobb

In the mid-1990s, I was enchanted by Robin Hobb’s Farseer trilogy, which told the tale of FitzChivalry Farseer’s rise from illegitimate son of a noble to master assassin. I also enjoyed her return to that tale in the Tawny Man trilogy. For some reason, though, I was never able to get into the Liveship Traders books, which span the years between those tales in another part of the same world. So I was a little surprised to find myself caught up in her latest tale, “Dragon Keeper” (Eos, $26.99).

The story is much more closely related to the Liveship books than Fitz’s tale, but I still found it fascinating. It begins with great sea serpents, led by the dragon Tintaglia, making their way upriver into the Rain Wilds, where they will cocoon to become dragons themselves. But these serpents should have cocooned years earlier and have spent too much time in the sea. The landscape of the Rain Wilds has also changed since the last group of serpents made their way there to cocoon. The terrain is much more treacherous and the river has turned acidic. The dragons that hatch from the cocoons are too early and mostly malformed, not the great beasts of old.

In the meantime, Tintaglia discovers another living dragon to take as a mate and disappears, leaving the Rain Wilders to care for the fledgling dragons. They soon find their resources depleted, and resentment builds between the people and the dragons. The solution lies in the lost city of Kelsingra, a place in the dragons’ ancestral memory where they lived in harmony with the Elderlings. The Rain Wilders have assembled a collection of misfits, marked by the harsh environment with scales, claws and other deformities, to accompany the dragons and care for them on their journey. Among them, a young girl named Thymara, who, because of her deformities was supposed to have been left to die at birth, but was saved by her father. She joins the expedition because she longs to do something to prove her value and escape her life as an outcast.

Meanwhile, Alise Finbok, the convenience wife of a Bingtown trader who cares little for her, has used a clause in their marriage agreement to push her unloving and often cruel husband to finance an expedition to the Rain Wilds to study the dragons. When she gets there, she finds herself caught up in the middle of the dragons’ journey and the quest for Kelsingra, much to the dismay of her travel companion Sedric, who is keeping his own secrets.

I’ve always been a sucker for a good dragon story, and in “Dragon Keeper,” Hobb offers a view of the beasts that we’ve rarely seen. Dragons, typically, are depicted as magnificent and highly intelligent creatures (which, indeed, the fully-formed Tintaglia is), or as petty tyrants. The fledgling dragons here are given a certain human quality, though. They’re not perfect. They’re not what they were meant to be, and most of them are not sure exactly what that is. They have ancestral memories of soaring in the clouds, but all are bound to the ground due to their ill-formed wings. They are, at times, pathetic, yet they still maintain just a bit of the mystical grandeur of their race, which will bloom as the story goes on. While there are many flashes of their proud and arrogant kind, they also have hopes, fears and dreams, and are, on the whole, a bit more fragile and relatable than your average dragon.

The book requires a certain amount of patience in the early going, It starts somewhat slow, as it must, to introduce the various characters and give the reader a full understanding of them and to explain the process by which the sea serpents have traditionally migrated and cocooned to become dragons. Early on, both the humans and the dragons are much less interesting than they become. But by the time that Alise arrives in the Rain Wilds and the dragons begin their hunt for Kelsingra, I became entranced with the story and unable to put it down. It bodes well for the second half of the tale, “Dragon Haven,” due out in May. The background is out of the way now and hopefully we can jump right into the story at full stride.

Review: "How to Train Your Dragon" by Cressida Cowell

After enjoying the Dreamworks movie “How to Train Your Dragon” on a rare family outing recently, my son demanded that we add the book to our bedtime reading ritual. As we were just about to finish “The Hobbit” and looking for a new book I picked up Cressida Cowell’s novel and the sequel “How to be a Pirate.”

Just a word of warning to those who enjoyed the movie and are considering picking up the book or vice versa: They are nothing alike. Outside of the setting and names, there are very few similarities. Having watched quite a few Hollywood versions of books I love in the past, it wasn’t surprising to me that there were changes, but the story featured in the movie is unrecognizable compared to the book.

Initially, my son and I were a little disappointed to find out that the Toothless of the book was a very small Common or Garden dragon that was, well, actually toothless, as opposed to the powerful Night Fury of the movie. In fact, most of the dragons of the book are small with some of the largest being described by Cowell as “about the size of a Labrador retriever.”

Perhaps the biggest difference, though, is that the Vikings of Cowell’s book are not terrorized by the dragons and don’t seek to kill them as in the movie. Instead, for the Vikings of the book, the dragons are utility animals. They catch them and train them to hunt and fish, usually by yelling – loudly. In fact, there’s quite a bit of yelling throughout the book. So instead of training to kill dragons, our hero Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III and other boys of his age must sneak into the cave where thousands of young dragons are hibernating, choose their dragon and bring it out in a basket. Then, on the festival of Thor’sday Thursday, they must demonstrate to the members of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe that they have a mastery over their animal. Anyone who cannot capture a dragon or train it will be exiled from the tribe.

I won’t go any further than that in describing the plot of the book because I don’t want to give too much away, but suffice it to say, if you’ve seen the movie, you don’t know what’s coming.

Unlike the movie, the print version of “How to Train Your Dragon” is very much a book for boys. The heroine of the movie, Astrid, doesn’t exist in the book, nor do any of the other girls involved in the dragon training. Instead you have boys with names like Snotface Snotlout, Fishlegs and Dogsbreath the Duhbrain. There are also quite a few jokes about snot, farts and other things that young boys will find amusing, though they’re all fairly innocent and never get too crude.

On a style note, I was a bit annoyed at the random capitalization in the book, and when the adult Vikings are yelling, the text often appears as ALLCAPSRUNTOGETHERWITHNOSPACES, which adds a level of difficulty to reading the book out loud. On the bright side, I enjoyed Cowell's flair for alliteration.

In the end, my son and I found Cowell’s novel entertaining, if not quite what we expected, and enjoyed the original take on the story. It’s a fun story and an easy read, perfect for bedtime reading, and we’re looking forward to starting on the sequel.

It’s really hard to compare the book to the movie as they’re pretty much two completely different entities. Both are enjoyable, though I think this might be that very rare case where, as much as I liked the book, I believe I enjoyed the movie version more. Sorry, Ms. Cowell.

Review: "The Way of Shadows" by Brent Weeks

As a reviewer, I get more books than I could possibly read. Often, I find myself making fairly quick decisions about what goes on the reading pile and what goes in the donation box. Sometimes, I know, I make the wrong decision. I was reminded of that by Brent Weeks’ “The Way of Shadows,” which I’m sure I received a review copy of at one point.

Recently, I found myself in the Indianapolis airport, facing about three hours in the air and another hour and a half in the Dallas airport. The book that I had read on the flight to Indianapolis had turned out to be a snoozer that I didn’t have any intention of finishing, and I had to have something to occupy my time on the way home. This book caught my eye in the bookstore, and my attention as soon as I started reading.

Azoth is a street rat, scrounging and stealing to survive and pay his tribute to the older kids who run the guild. The Big that he answers to is a particularly unsavory character by the name of Rat, who makes life miserable for Azoth and his friends Jarl and Doll Girl. While waiting under the floors of a drinking establishment hoping to catch some loose change falling through the boards, he has a chance encounter with the famed assassin Durzo Blint. Only the word assassin is an insult to Blint. He is what is known as a wetboy, a killer that uses both skill and magic to stalk his prey, and he is almost unstoppable – the best of the best.

After the encounter and seeing a taste of the power that Blint wields, Azoth decides that he will convince the wetboy to apprentice him. The killer, though, has no use for an apprentice. Through persistence, Azoth gets Blint to agree to take him on, under one condition – that he proves himself capable by killing Rat. To escape from the Warrens and save his friends, Azoth will have to give up everything he’s ever known and take on a new life as wetboy-in-training Kylar Stern.

To be honest, I thought I’d read the ultimate assassin tale in Robin Hobb’s Farseer trilogy, but the first volume in Weeks’ Night Angel trilogy certainly gives it a run for its money. Weeks’ world is a gritty place – mean, nasty and much more realistic than the usual fantasy fare. He’s populated the world with a set of very interesting and colorful characters that range from heroic to despicable, common to mysterious and everything in between.

Weeks also offers some surprises in his story line. It’s not often that I don’t see a twist coming in a book, but “The Way of Shadows” managed to surprise me in at least a couple of places. Weeks weaves quite a few threads and subplots through the book, but still manages to bring them altogether to give readers a satisfying ending that doesn’t leave them hanging.

The real strength of this book, though, is the beautifully drawn action sequences that Weeks writes. I’ve always been a fan of R.A. Salvatore’s combat scenes, but there are times in this book that Weeks makes him look like an amateur. Heavily detailed and artistically rendered, Weeks’ action will keep you reading breathlessly.

I’ll definitely be picking up the second and third volumes of the Night Angel trilogy, and they’ll move immediately to the top of my reading list.

Review: "Unseen Academicals" by Terry Pratchett

I’ve had an up-and-down relationship with Terry Pratchett’s Discworld novels in recent years. Pratchett remains one of my favorite authors and the early books in the series are some of my favorite ever. But over the last 10 or 12 years, the quality, at least to me, has been up and down. His latest, “Unseen Academicals,” falls somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. It’s not bad, but it’s not one of my favorites, either.

The wizards of Unseen University discover that a large donation to their cause is in danger if they don’t agree to field a football team. The football crowd is a rough and rowdy group, and the game has very few rules. The Patrician, the ever-scheming Lord Vetinari, has also taken an interest in the game and encourages the wizards not only to field a team, but to bring some rules and order to the game. Naturally, that doesn’t go over well with elements of the rough-and-tumble crowd dedicated to the sport.

In the middle of the chaos are a reformed goblin who has been sent to Ankh-Morpork to find worth, the son of a legendary football player who has sworn to his mother he won’t get involved in the game, a beautiful but somewhat dense serving girl who may turn out to be the Discworld’s first fashion model and a no-nonsense cook that tries to hold everything together.

Perhaps if I were a fan of soccer, the sports side of the story might mean a little more to me. Being that I’m an "ugly American" who believes that football is played with an oblong ball and should involve large, heavily-padded men colliding with each other, it doesn’t quite impact me as much. On the other hand, I did enjoy the story of Mr. Nutt, the goblin, who has been reprogrammed and sent into the world to prove that goblins can change. (They’re all innately evil, you know.) Nutt is, quite purposely, one of the most human characters in the entire book, and his journey is both amusing and, at times, profound.

The wizards, as usual, provide their share of comedic moments, whether it be a “traditional” game in which they chase a bird around the university, their ineptness at sports as they try to learn to play football or the head of the Department of Post-Mortem Communications, Dr. Hix’s, constant reminders to the staff that he represents the dark arts. (“Skull ring, remember?”) Most of the laughs come from their misadventures and there are some good ones.

“Unseen Academicals,” while far from Pratchett’s best work, is still an entertaining read and well worth the effort for fans of the author and the Discworld.

Review: "Sandman Slim" by Richard Kadrey

In the overcrowded urban fantasy/horror market these days, it's tough to get my attention. You've either got to be a proven commodity to me or hook me pretty quickly. Richard Kadrey does an excellent job of the latter in his latest novel "Sandman Slim" ($22.99, Eos).

James Stark has just returned to Los Angeles after spending 11 years in Hell ... quite literally. Before finding himself Downtown, Stark was a member of a circle of magic-users. Jealous of his power, the leader, a man named Mason, opened up a pit into Hell during one of their ceremonies and, with the help of some supernatural monsters, had Stark dragged there. Treated as a novelty by Lucifer and his generals -- the only living human to ever visit -- Stark was forced to fight in the arena against a bevy of vile creatures and was even recruited as an assassin in the demons' struggle for power. He's returned to Earth with plenty of new tricks, bent on revenge. In the process, though, he may just save the world.

At it's heart, "Sandman Slim" is a simple revenge tale in an urban fantasy setting -- a couple of things that are both quite overdone. But its hard to resist the hook of Kadrey's tale as, in the opening scene, Stark wakes up in a Dumpster with his clothes on fire and his strange story starts to slowly unfold. There are also a few nice little twists and turns to the story along the way, which I won't reveal here but are worth the journey.

Stark is the classic anti-hero. He's not a nice person, not someone who generally does the right thing just because it's the right thing. He's cold, callous and calculating, and everything is second to his plan for revenge. It's quite a challenge to take a character with those qualities and turn him into someone you want to cheer for, yet Kadrey manages to make it happen. He also surrounds Stark with a strange and fascinating cast of characters, ranging from a goth girls to mysterious wise men to an off-the-grid supernatural doctor with a secret to an angel that heads a government agency to fight Hell's minions on Earth.

"Sandman Slim" appears to be the set up for a new series of tales, and if Kadrey can keep them as interesting as this one, I'll look forward to continuing to read about Stark and Co.

Review: "The Child Thief" by Brom

Fantasy artist Brom has long been known for bringing beautiful nightmares to life on book covers, but with "The Child Thief" ($26.99, Eos), he turns his attention to the pages between those covers.

The book retells the story of Peter Pan in a way that it hasn't been told before. Brom, whose full name is Gerald Brom, writes in the afterword of the book that he was inspired by a few phrases from J.M. Barrie's original tale -- not the sanitized Disney version -- that he found somewhat disturbing. He takes those ideas and runs with them to create a Peter Pan that is, at the same time, very true to the original character, yet completely different. The Peter here is cunning, brave, glib and often heroic, but he's far from the carefree lad that never wants to grow up. Instead, he's a tortured character, driven by his desire to save Avalon (his version of Never, Neverland) from the invading "flesh-eaters," led by The Captain (no Hook here), and haunted by the methods that battle requires.

The story begins with Nick, a New York City teenager who is on the run from the drug dealers that his mother has rented space to in their home. Tired of their torment of his family, he has stolen their stash of drugs, with the intent to sell them for the cash to run away. Now, they've caught up to him. But someone else is watching. When the dealers pounce, Peter is there to save the boy and quickly wins his trust, convincing Nick to come through the mists surrounding Avalon to the fort where Peter and his friends live. The promises sound good, but soon after entering the treacherous mist filled with ghosts and monsters, Nick realizes that those promises weren't quite true.

Nick is exactly the sort of child that Peter looks for and has been stealing from our world for centuries -- lost, abused children with nowhere to go and nothing to lose. He's given them a place where they feel they're wanted and they belong, turning them into his "Devils" to fight a war that started long before any of them were born.

As you might have already guessed from the name of Brom's Never Neverland, he mixes and matches mythologies to create this new version of Peter Pan. He draws heavily from the legends of King Arthur, as well as Celtic and Norse traditions and even European and American history for a fascinating and sometimes horrifying landscape. He also uses these legends to offer an interesting back-story for the boy who refuses to grow up that's a bit different from what you might expect.

"The Child Thief" is a book that often leaves the reader with mixed emotions. There's certainly no black and white here. While there are times when you want to cheer for Peter, there's also a bit of revulsion for his selfish and violent actions. Likewise, the "flesh eaters" are painted as the evil destroyers by Peter in the early going of the book, but we soon find out that there's much more to their story than he's sharing, including a bit of a gut punch near the end that I won't reveal here. The Captain, like Peter, is a study in shadow and light. He's an easy character to dislike -- brutal and ruthless -- but with qualities that are, at times, quite admirable.

It should go without saying at this point, but don't pick up this book to read with the kiddies. While it is based on a childhood favorite, this telling is for adults only. If you're looking for a family tale, you're much better off with the original or, perhaps, Peter David's "Tigerheart" if you're looking for a different take.

If, on the other hand, you don't mind a more disturbing vision of Peter Pan, Brom delivers a fascinating and entrancing version, trading paints for words to create a tale as dark, twisted and stunning as his artwork.

Review: "The Strain" by Guillermo Del Toro and Chuck Hogan

I was immediately intrigued on receiving "The Strain" ($26.99, William Morrow), the debut novel from director Guillermo Del Toro and co-author Chuck Hogan. Over the past few years, I've become a big fan of Del Toro's films, and I was wondering how his style would translate into print.

In the novel, a jet on a flight from Germany lands at JFK in New York. Everything seems fine until the plane stops dead on the runway with no power and no communication. Nearly everyone on board is dead with no visible signs of trauma or illness. Most of the passengers are still seated as they would have been in normal circumstances. The case gets stranger when the bodies get to the morgue, and the medical examiner performing the autopsies finds some very strange clues about what might have killed them. But when the bodies mysteriously disappear from the morgue, it becomes clear that an ancient evil has re-emerged. New York will soon be thrown into chaos, and the entire world may follow.

In these days of vampire overload, just the mere mention of the v-word on a book cover is usually enough to make me pass. But I trusted Del Toro to provide something fresh and interesting to a genre that has rapidly grown stale. I wasn't disappointed. There are no fangs, pretty boy vampires or glamour here. Del Toro's vision of the vampire is brutal, ugly and monstrous.

Rather than the romantic notion of the vampire that seems to have flourished in recent years, Del Toro and Hogan's creatures are the victims of a plague that changes the body in horrific ways, making them essentially walking viruses. At least in the early stages of the disease, the vampires are mindless feeding machines, more akin to zombies.

The scientific approach to vampirism is interesting, if not entirely new, but it also presents a slight challenge in suspension of disbelief as many of the usual weaknesses of vampires (sunlight, silver) are also attributed to these creatures. The reasons for these weaknesses are really not explained in the book and may cause the reader to question why some of the classic rules of vampire mythology apply to these new creations.

"The Strain" is well-written and, after a lengthy amount of set-up and background, a fast-paced read. I was a little disappointed that I didn't get the sense of macabre wonder from the book that is a mainstay of Del Toro's films. Naturally, it's destined for the screen, and I'm anxious to see the director's vision, particularly for the character of The Master.

All in all, "The Strain" serves as a solid introduction for Del Toro in the print world, and I'll look forward to reading the next installment in the planned trilogy of vampire tales.

Review: Neil Gaiman, "The Graveyard Book"

I'll be honest and tell you off the top that I'd probably read the phone book if it had Neil Gaiman's name on the cover. So, yes, I'm a bit of a fanboy. But there's a reason. He's never disappointed, and "The Graveyard Book" is no different.

The book returns to the character of Nobody Owens, first introduced in the short story "The Witch's Headstone" which appears as a chapter in this book. Bod's parents were killed by a strange assailant when he was a toddler, but the boy managed to escape the killer and make it to safety in an odd place -- a nearby graveyard. After much debate, Bod is taken in and given the freedom of the graveyard by its ghostly inhabitants, two of which -- the Owenses -- are a couple that always wanted a child but never had one in life. The ghosts aren't the only inhabitants of the cemetery, though. Bod also finds a guardian named Silas, who is somewhere between the living and the dead and is keeping a secret about Bod.

"The Witch's Headstone" introduced readers to this unusual scenario, and while entertaining on its own, raised many questions about how things worked and how it came to be. This book fleshes the story out, beginning with the murders and carrying Bod into his teenage years. Along the way, the strange boy has a number of adventures both inside and out of the graveyard -- and even in some stranger locales. Gaiman offers a winding, fascinating journey that eventually will bring Bod face to face with his destiny.

"The Graveyard Book" is a Neil Gaiman story, so naturally there are plenty of fascinating, supernatural characters to meet along the way and lots of adventure, but at its heart, it's a book about growing up. Through the course of the story, Bod goes through the same transformations that most boys go through as they get older. He searches for his own identity. He deals with friendships found and lost -- both human and supernatural. He questions his guardians and tries to find his own place in the world. He just has the added issues of dealing with ghosts, monsters and attaining some small, yet effective, magical powers.

While there's certainly some creepiness involved -- there almost has to be with a story set in a graveyard -- but there's much more wonder and discovery. Despite the circumstances that brought Bod to his current state, the story is less dark and gloomy and more triumphant and uplifting. There's a certain fairy-tale atmosphere about it, even in the darker moments. That's one of the things that Gaiman does best, and one of the things that keeps me coming back to his books.

Review: "Turn Coat," by Jim Butcher

What do you do when a long-time rival turns up on your doorstep looking for help? That’s the question that faces wizard-for-hire Harry Dresden in Jim Butcher’s latest, "Turn Coat" (Roc, $25.95).

Donald Morgan, the warden of the White Council who has hounded Harry for years for his suspected use of black magic, shows up at his apartment, seriously injured and on the run. Morgan has been accused of the murder of a senior member of the White Council, and the evidence against him is pretty convincing. Morgan was, in fact, found standing over the body, holding the murder weapon, only moments after the wizard was killed. Then, he wounded three wardens in his escape. He’s being hunted by the other wardens (though some, like Harry himself, have not been notified of the man hunt), and there’s a bounty that’s drawn all manner of supernatural creatures to try to bring Morgan in.

His own experience tells Harry that Morgan is not the kind of man who would turn against the White Council, and he suspects there’s more than meets the eye. Due to their past animosity, it’s the last place Morgan’s hunters would expect him to go for help, and Dresden offers him shelter and aid. The gesture puts him on a path that’s likely to get him killed along with his old rival if he can’t find the real killer before the White Council finds Morgan.

I’ll admit that I’m a complete fanboy of Butcher’s Dresden Files at this point. I can’t remember the last time that I still found the 11th book in a series as entertaining as the first. While most series are losing steam, Butcher’s is shifting gears. The action in "Turn Coat" brings readers to a new chapter in Harry’s story. The events in the book will give him new status and perhaps a slightly altered outlook on life, as both he and members of the White Council are forced to take a hard look at their values.

But the added inner struggle doesn’t detract from what has always been the hallmark of the Dresden Files -- interesting characters and fast and furious action. We get plenty of both here as we get a little more insight on some of the council members who have been a bit mysterious through the first 10 books. There’s also a new baddie -- a skinwalker from Native American legend -- and a battle between the beast and Native American wizard Joseph Listens-to-Wind is spectacular.

At a point in the series where I’m usually calling for the author to retire his hero and move on, Butcher and Dresden continue to excite. Here’s to 11 more books just as good as the first 11.

Review: "Black Blood" by John Meaney

John Meaney returns to his intriguing world in "Black Blood" ($24, Spectra), the second in his series of books about police detective Donal Riordan.

As the book starts, Riordan has become a zombie. Not the classic, shambling, brain-eating zombie you’re probably thinking of, but a person resurrected by technological means. The big problem for Riordan and others considered nonhumans in Meaney’s world is a group called the Unity Party, which is pushing to strip their freedoms and possessions. The group is gaining power and influence daily, and also happens to have a number of ties to a group Riordan and his officers call the Black Circle -- a group directly responsible for the death of Riordan’s boss and lover Laura Steele, and his own.

Riordan’s life is in chaos. He has inherited all of the wealth of Laura, though that’s in jeopardy if the Unity Party has its way. His police unit has been put under the command of an outsider and the officers are being sent on secret missions to investigate mysterious white wolves appearing around the city and some new blue telephones which are being installed all over town with seemingly miraculous changes in the people who use them.

In "Black Blood" we get more glimpses of the fascinating world that Meaney has created -- part science fiction, part horror, part fantasy. Uncovering the strange workings of this world is one of the more entertaining parts of the story.

The civil rights thread that was an undercurrent in the first novel, "Bone Song," takes a much more prominent role and really pushes the action in this book. The efforts of the Unity Party bring a rapid change in the social structure in Tristopolis and makes Riordan’s job that much more difficult.

In the second book of the series, Meaney continues to set himself apart from the glut of supernatural detective stories out there. I’ll look forward to more visits to Tristopolis.

Review: "Bone Song" by John Meaney

John Meaney creates an intriguing world for his new series, beginning with "Bone Song" ($6.99, Spectra).

It’s a world where bones have great power. The energy to keep the city of Tristopolis running is generated from them, and the bones of artists have a seductive power all their own. Great performers are disappearing all over the world, with the attacks often happening in front of ensorcelled audiences. The bodies then mysteriously disappear.

Tristopolis detective Donal Riordan has been charged with protecting a famous opera diva who is visiting the city and suspected to be the next target. When things go awry, Riordan finds himself thrown into a new role as part of a special task force filled with interesting characters assigned to take down the suspected conspiracy behind the disappearances.

In "Bone Song," Meaney melds science fiction, fantasy, horror and police procedural to produce a book that brings something new and interesting to the overloaded supernatural detective story field. While there’s not a real weakness in the book, the true star is the world itself, powered by the necroflux created from human remains and filled with machines operated by often-enslaved wraiths. At times, it seems a bit like horror told with a hard science fiction style. There is, of course, an undercurrent here that often runs through these kinds of books about equality and rights for all beings, but it takes a back seat to the primary story.

The world isn’t the only attraction, though. Meaney builds a cast of interesting characters that seems to avoid many of the cliches of the genre.

Overall, "Bone Song" is a promising start to the series which continues with "Black Blood," already out in hardcover from Spectra. It will be interesting to see how things develop and if Meaney can keep it as compelling as the first installment.

Review: "Tigerheart" by Peter David

Peter David, known for his off-kilter take on King Arthur, turns his attention to another popular literary character in "Tigerheart" (Del Rey, $22.)

The star of the tale is a young boy named Paul Dear who is on a quest to please his mother and rebuild his family after the death of his infant sister. Paul has been raised on tales of the Anyplace and its enigmatic hero The Boy by his father. Though you may not recognize the names, the characters will be very familiar to anyone who knows the works of J.M. Barrie or the many adaptations of those works.

So, why not just use Neverland and Peter Pan? According to David, Peter Pan is far too self-centered to allow anyone else to be the star of a book that includes him, and Paul is most certainly the hero in this tale.

Having learned early on that he can speak to animals and being fueled by his father's stories, Paul has glimpsed the Anyplace often. He's also befriended a snow tiger that prowls the imaginary land. After his infant sister's death, Paul's life changes. His mother and father split up, and his mother forbids any talk of the Anyplace or the Boy, even going so far as to have Paul put on prescriptions to keep him from speaking of it. Eventually Paul begins to trick his mother by not taking the pills, and that's when he formulates the plan to follow the pixie Fiddlefix (who has her own reasons for wanting Paul to come) into the Anyplace to find a new little sister and make his mother happy again.

Once there, though, he finds a place that's a little different than what he expects. The Boy, having defeated Captain Hack, has comandeered his pirate ship and, along with Hack's sister, Captain Slash, is terrorizing the Anyplace. It's up to Paul to find out why the Boy has changed and win his help to solve the problem.

David's tale is an interestingly different look at the legend of Peter Pan. Much like the original, it's often fascinating and often quite dark. While it does celebrate the imagination of childhood, David's work also takes a look at the bleaker, less pleasant side of the Boy's refusal to grow up and gives him a crisis of conscience that we could probably never imagine Peter Pan having.

One problem the book does have is in the narrative style. David often breaks the story to address the reader directly. I understand that it's an attempt to recreate Barrie's style and create the feeling of a storyteller spinning the tale. More often than not, though, it took me right out of the flow of the story.

That aside, "Tigerheart" is an imaginative and fun take on a familiar place and characters. It provides a slightly different spin on the classic tale and some food for thought.

Review: "Victory of Eagles" by Naomi Novik

Naomi Novik picks up where she left readers hanging with the last installment in her fantastic reimagining of the Napoleonic Wars in "Victory of Eagles."

A short time has passed since the final scene of "Empire of Ivory," when the dragon Temeraire and his captain Laurence were being taken into custody by British officials for providing Napoleon with a cure for the deadly disease that they hoped would devastate the French dragon corps. Laurence has been convicted of treason, but is being kept alive to make sure Temeraire remains cooperative. Temeraire, the rarest of dragons, has been sent to the breeding grounds where they hope he will pass on his Celestial genes, particularly his devastating weapon, the Divine Wind. Needless to say, he is not very happy with the development.

When rumor reaches Temeraire that Laurence has been killed in a French attack on the ship that was trans-porting him, he mobilizes the other dragons of the breeding grounds into an army of uncaptained dragons with the goal of vengeance on the French.

One of the strengths of the series to this point has been Novik's ability to make the tales believable. She writes of the dragons with the same flair and spirit that Patrick O'Brian writes his naval adventures. But here, she begins to stretch the bounds of credulity. Surprisingly, that stretch has nothing to do with the dragons that are flying around. Rather, it gets harder and harder for the reader to understand Laurence's tortured sense of duty.

It's obvious no one wants him around. He has a dragon that's itching to fly away. They can return to Temeraire's homeland of China and live like royalty, or go anywhere else in the world for that matter. Of course, I suppose flying off and living happily ever after wouldn't make for a very good adventure.

There's also the matter of the social issues that Novik has injected into the story. While the dragons' fight to be recognized as thinking beings rather than dumb beasts takes a great leap in this book, it feels a bit rushed with the formerly obstinate officials in power agreeing far more easily than it seems they would. While these things don't ruin the book, they do invade a bit on the suspension of disbelief that's required to enjoy it.

That said, "Victory of Eagles" is still an engaging book, and the personalities, particularly of the dragons, are still the main attraction. At the same time, it doesn't capture my imagination in the way that the earlier books in the series did. Here's hoping for a little less of the tortured sinner from Laurence and a little more adventure in the next one.

On a side note, Peter Jackson has optioned the first four books in the series. Should a movie ever develop, it should make a stunning subject for Jackson's treatment.

Review: "Fool" by Christopher Moore

I’ve often regretted that my introduction to Christopher Moore came through his 2002 novel "Lamb." I still consider it one of the funniest books I’ve ever read, and his other books, while all enjoyable, just haven’t stacked up. His latest, "Fool" ($26.99, William Morrow), finally found that spark again.

It seems parodying great literary works may be Moore’s strong point, as this time he takes on Shakespeare’s "King Lear." We get a little background on Lear’s fool early on. Pocket is an orphan, raised by nuns, exiled from the church and saved from a cruel master by Lear after his act causes the king’s youngest daughter Cordelia to speak after years of silence.

As in Shakespeare’s play, Pocket becomes a beloved companion and a bit of a confidante to Lear, having the ability to point out folly and foolishness that would cost the life of any other person at the king’s court. Unlike Shakespeare, the fool of Moore’s book is the true mover and shaker behind the story. After Lear asks the fateful question of his daughters that sets things in motion, Pocket is the one working behind the scenes like an acid-tongued Machiavelli as the king wails and rages at the storm.

Moore plays fast and loose with Shakespeare, history and pretty much everything he touches in "Fool." The story draws influence and pulls quotes from a number of Shakespeare’s plays, and the witches from "Macbeth" are even invited over to play a key role as Moore’s version of the story unfolds.

There are, of course, dalliances, buffoonery and general silliness involved, as you’d expect from Moore. He warns at the opening of the book, "This is a bawdy tale. Herein you will find gratuitous shagging, murder, spanking, maiming, treason, and heretofore unexplored heights of vulgarity and profanity, as well as non-traditional grammar, split infinitives and the odd wank." For the most part, he lives up to that, so, like "Lamb," "Fool" is not a tale for the easily offended.

It’s not an easy thing to turn one of the greatest tragedies ever written into a comedy. Moore succeeds in injecting plenty of humor — albeit usually very black humor — into the story, while still keeping some of its darker and grittier elements.

While most of Moore’s books have been entertaining, he really shines when he takes on the bigger stories. Sure to offend as many people as it entertains, "Fool," like "Lamb" before, stands head and shoulders (or at least coxcomb and bells) above his other works.