Review: "Summerland" by Hannu Rajaniemi

Hannu Rajaniemi’s “Summerland” ($25.99, Tor) proved an unusual read for me in more ways than one.

In 1930s Europe, no one fears death anymore. At least not if they have a Ticket to Summerland. Not only do the living know about the afterlife in Rajaniemi’s alternate history, but they can communicate with people there, and the dead can visit the world of the living whenever they want through mediums and other means.

It’s no surprise, then, that the European powers of the time would wrangle over control of the world of the dead, just as they do the world of the living.

Rachel White is a good, but dissatisfied SIS agent with the British Empire. As a woman in the 1930s, she doesn’t get the respect of her fellow agents or superiors, no matter how good her work. Then she learns of a Soviet mole in Summerland. Instead of being put on the case, she’s removed from her position and placed in an accounting position.

But with the possible fate of the afterlife on the line, Rachel isn’t going to give up the chase.

Review: "The Witch Hunter" by Virginia Boecker

In her debut novel, “The Witch Hunter” ($18, Little, Brown), Virginia Boecker takes us to an alternate version of 16th Century England where magic is very real and practicing it can be hazardous to your health.

Elizabeth Grey is coming of age in a violent occupation. She’s been trained since she was a child for one purpose – to bring witches to justice – and she’s been very good at it. Until recently, that is, when other issues have been occupying her mind.

The tables turn on Elizabeth when she is caught with some forbidden herbs and accused of witchcraft herself. She’s imprisoned and scheduled for execution, but Nicholas Perevil, the country’s most notorious and most wanted wizard, rescues her. He offers her life in return for her help in breaking a curse that’s been placed on him.

She begins her journey as a reluctant savior for a man she’s been taught to hate, but the path she travels will turn the world that she’s known for most of her life upside down.

Review: "Maplecroft" by Cherie Priest

Do you ever keep slogging through a book that’s not really doing much for you just because you think you should like it?

That’s kind of what Cherie Priest’s “Maplecroft” ($15, Roc) was like for me.

I picked it up on the recommendation of another author I really enjoy and one who has steered me toward several really good books over the past few years. On the surface, it seemed like something I should love. Lizzie Borden fighting Lovecraftian monstrosities. How great a setup is that? Maybe it made my hopes too high.

“Maplecroft” opens a number of years after Borden’s famous murders. She’s been acquitted and is living in Fall River, Massachusetts, serving as caretaker for her ailing older sister Emma. Lizzie lives quietly and stays mostly under the radar, or so it seems.

Review: "The Red Magician," by Lisa Goldstein

Though it was a National Book Award winner in 1983, the recent reissue of Lisa Goldstein’s “The Red Magician” ($7.99, Open Road Media) was my introduction to the tale.

Kicsi, a young Jewish girl living in Hungary during World War II, dreams of adventure and exotic locales. So she’s naturally taken with a strange, red-haired wanderer calling himself Voros who comes to town and is invited by her father to dine with the family. Voros has traveled the world, and Kicsi longs to hear about his adventures.

Voros gets on the bad side of the controlling local rabbi when he breaks a curse the rabbi has placed on Kicsi’s school because they teach classes in Hebrew and because of Voros’ attempts to warn the people of the town that disaster is coming.

The feud is the talk of the town, but the evil that’s about to descend on Kicsi’s family and friends will make the skirmish between the two magicians seem unimportant.

Review: "Boy's Life" by Robert McCammon

Every so often I lament the difficulty of finding what I consider good horror and solicit suggestions. Almost every time I do, someone brings up Robert McCammon’s “Boy’s Life” ($8.99, Pocket Books).

I finally got around to picking it up, and I disagree. Mainly because I’d really hate to classify this book as “horror.” Yes, there are horrific things in it. There are monsters and ghosts, there’s magic, there’s even a dinosaur. But there’s so much more than any one genre designation can hold.

The story centers around Cory Mackenson, a young boy growing up in the 1960s in Zephyr, Alabama. One early morning, as he rides along on his father’s milk delivery route, his life changes. A car rockets across the dark road, barely missing the milk truck, and plummets into the deep waters of Saxon’s Lake.

Cory’s father dives in to try to save the driver, only to find that the man has been brutally murdered – beaten, choked with piano wire and chained to the steering wheel to keep his body from surfacing. The only clue to go on is a tattoo of a skull with wings on the man’s arm and a bright green feather that Cory found at the scene of the crime and only he knows about.

Review: "Dawnflight" by Kim Headlee

One of the first advance copies of a book that I ever received for review was the Pocket Books edition of Kim Headlee’s “Dawnflight” back in 1999. Nearly 15 years later, Headlee has revisited the book, making a few changes and relaunching the series that never happened back then.

The book tells a familiar tale – the love story between King Arthur and Guinevere – but approaches it in a different way. In place of the courtly Lady Guinevere of most tales, we have the Caledonian chieftaness Gyanhumara, a warrior through-and-through who takes heads as trophies. That alone is enough to set it apart from most Arthurian stories.

After the forces of Arthur the Pendragon defeat Gyan’s people, she finds herself bound to marry one of the former enemies of her tribe as part of the treaty. Urien map Dumarec seems the most obvious choice, and despite misgivings, she agrees for the good of her people.

Review: "The Golem and the Jinni" by Helene Wecker

In some ways, Chava and Ahmad, the main characters in Helene Wecker’s “The Golem and the Jinni” ($15.99, Harper Perennial), are not all that different from the thousands of immigrants that surround them in turn-of-the-century New York. As the title tells us, though, they’re far from the average immigrant.

Chava is a golem, a woman made of clay. She traveled to New York from Poland with her would-be husband, a ne’er-do-well merchant who, unable and unwilling to find a real-world woman, enlisted the help of a disgraced rabbi who doesn’t mind meddling in the dark arts for the right price. Unlike most golems, which are little more than mindless slaves, Chava’s master wanted her to have intelligence and curiosity. She was packed away on a ship to be awakened when they arrived in New York. Unable to wait, her master awakens her on the voyage, then dies, leaving her rudderless, a babe in a new world.

Review: "And Blue Skies from Pain" by Stina Leicht

I thought Stina Leicht’s opening book of the Fey and the Fallen, “Of Blood and Honey,” showed a lot of promise. The second book, “And Blue Skies from Pain” ($14.99, Nightshade Books ), though delivers exactly what I hoped it would.

With the background of the story and the political volatility of 1970s Ireland established in the first book, this one gets down to the business of the supernatural war. Liam Kelly, after discovering he is half-fey in the first book, has submitted to be tested by the Catholic Church to prove that he is human and stop the church’s violence against the fey. For ages, the militant arm of the church, charged with hunting down and destroying fallen angels, has made no distinction between the fallen and the fey. Now, at the urging of Liam’s friend Father Joseph Murray, the church has called an uneasy truce until it can be determined whether the two are different.

Naturally, there are elements in the church that don’t want it proven that the fey are not fallen angels. It’s an uncomfortable question for the best among the warrior priests and a downright onerous thought for many who have spent their lives cruelly executing what they thought were evil beings.

Review: "Of Blood and Honey" by Stina Leicht

I’ve had pretty good luck with debut novels of late, but I leave Stina Leicht’s “Of Blood and Honey” ($14.99, Night Shade Books) with mixed feelings.

The story focuses on Liam Kelly, a young man growing up in the turmoil of the 1970s in Ireland. Liam is a Puca, a shapeshifter of Irish legend, only he doesn’t know it. He’s grown up with a stepfather and other members of his family who don’t really like him. He’s been told his father was Protestant, while is family is devoutly Catholic, and he assumes that’s the reason. Other than his mother, the only two people who really seem to care about Liam are a local priest, Father Murray, and a neighborhood girl named Mary Kate. Both, though, will end up getting him in trouble.

Father Murray carries secrets that are important to Liam’s very survival. Mary Kate comes from a staunchly Republican family and is a regular at demonstrations and protests. At these demonstrations, Liam is arrested by British troops and imprisoned without trial twice for no greater crime than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. During his first stint in prison, he discovers that there’s something lurking within him that’s not quite human. During the second, his non-political outlook on life changes and he volunteers for the IRA.

Review: "Dodger" by Terry Pratchett

In “Dodger” ($17.99, HarperCollins), Terry Pratchett does something that he’s rarely managed. He infuses a non-Discworld book with the same kind of fun and whimsy found in his long-running series.

“Dodger,” an historical novel of sorts, pays tribute to Victorian-era London, as well as one of its most famous authors, Charles Dickens. Dodger is a 17-year-old street kid who makes a living as a tosher, someone who goes into the sewers to try to salvage a living from coins and other items lost down the drains. He also has a knack for having valuable things land in his hands, though he would, of course, never stoop the thievery.

His life changes one stormy night when he comes upon a young girl who jumps out of a coach and flees from a couple of large men. Dodger dives right into the fray, delivering a good whipping to the thugs and saving the girl, who turns out to be much more than the boy ever expected.

Review: "Throne of Jade" and "Black Powder War" by Naomi Novik

It's always nice when you get to read the books in a series back to back. Usually in fantasy series, you get hooked with the first book and then end up waiting a year or more for each installment, in the process forgetting a little about each world and story. So it was nice to see Naomi Novik's most recent two books in the Temeraire series, "Throne of Jade" and "Black Powder War" (both $7.50, Del Rey), follow hot on the heels of the first book, "His Majesty's Dragon."

I was truly impressed by the first installment, and immediately immersed myself in the second and third tales. For those who missed my review of the first book a few weeks back, Temeraire is a dragon intended as a gift for Napoleon from the emperor of China. His egg was intercepted by a British ship during the Napoleonic Wars, and he ended up bonded to the ship's captain Will Laurence.

In "Throne of Jade," the Chinese royalty have decided that Laurence is not fit to be a companion to a Celestial dragon, intended only for royalty. So he and Temeraire have been called to China, where they expect attempts to separate them from each other. In the process, they find themselves embroiled in a struggle for power between the emperor who is open to communication with the Western world and a faction led by a prince who opposes Western influence.

Having struggled through their confrontation with the emperor of China, Temeraire and Laurence expect to soon return to England in "Black Powder War." Temeraire, much to Laurence's dismay, is excited about the possibility of bringing the living standards of England's dragons up to those of China's, who are treated as equals, and often betters, by humans. Instead, they get an urgent missive ordering them to go to Istanbul to retrieve three dragon eggs purchased by the British government. Their ship damaged by a fire, they are forced to travel overland where they face not only the challenge of the journey and ongoing war, but also a Celestial who feels wronged by them.

I love dragon tales, and Novik's books are easily the best dragon stories I've read in years. Hers is a rare and refreshing original take on dragons, imagining a hierarchy and community of dragons on a scale that has rarely been attempted.

Making the stories even better is the fact that Novik is also an excellent writer with the skills to bring her creation to life and make the reader care deeply about Temeraire and his captain. When you're reading a story where the characters are wronged and you find yourself trembling with anger at the injustice, you know the writer has crafted something powerful. It happened to me more than once during these books.

If you're a lover of dragon tales or a fan of historical military adventure (who can accept the existence of mythical beasts, of course), do yourself a favor at check out this series.

Review: "His Majesty's Dragon" by Naomi Novik

Having read fantasy for more than 20 years, I think I've seen dragons used in just about every way possible. But on rare occasion, I'll run into a book like Naomi Novik's "His Majesty's Dragon" ($7.50, Del Rey).

Originally published under the title "Temeraire" in the U.K., the alternate history begins aboard the ship of British Capt. Will Laurence during the Napoleonic Wars. When Laurence captures a French frigate, he's thrilled to discover a dragon egg in the hold. He's less thrilled to find it is near to hatching. Knowing the dragon's value to his country's Aerial Corps and knowing it must be bound early to be controlled, he and his officers draw straws to see which one will attempt to harness the dragon. But when the egg hatches, the beast ignores the man attempting to harness it and instead bonds with Laurence. Knowing his duty, he accepts that he will have to give up his proud and comfortable Navy life to become an aviator.

As the dragon, named Temeraire after a ship Laurence once admired, grows, the captain's reluctant sense of duty gives way to a deep affection for the dragon. The bond is strengthened when they discover that Temeraire is, in fact, a Chinese Imperial dragon, an extremely rare and intelligent breed and further through their experiences in training and action.

At heart, this is the story of a man and his dragon, and with Novik's considerable talents, if it were left at that it would probably still be worth a read. But here she gives us so much more, including a completely different view of fantasy's most popular creature.

"His Majesty's Dragon" reads a bit like one of Patrick O'Brian's naval adventures, except, of course, that it takes place hundreds of feet above the ground. Full crews scrambling around atop a moving dragon, cheating death with every move, provide for some truly awesome imagery.

Even more interesting is the personality that Novik injects into her dragons. Each beast is as distinctive and well-developed as her human characters, perhaps even moreso at times. It leaves the reader longing to meet more of them.

Though this is Novik's debut, it certainly doesn't read like one. In fact, "His Majesty's Dragon" is easily one of the best fantasies I've read in a long, long time. It's a must-read for both dragon-lovers and fans of historical adventure novels.

Review: "The Last Light of the Sun" by Guy Gavriel Kay

Guy Gavriel Kay is, at once, the most fascinating writer in fantasy and one of the most frustrating. When he's on, there's no better writer in the genre. When he's not, drying paint can be more exciting.

Thankfully, he hits the mark more often than not. His latest, "The Last Light of the Sun" ($24.95, Roc), may be one of his best. The book takes readers back to the world of Sarantium and Al-Rassan, but focuses on a part of the world that he hasn't explored yet.

Like so much of Kay's work, the world and people are based on cultures and time periods from our own world. His writings are equal parts fantasy, historical fiction and literary fiction.

"The Last Light of the Sun" is based largely on Norse, English and Celtic cultures, and the book shows a great deal of research on Kay's part. Perhaps more familiar to the average fantasy fan than the medieval Italian world Kay chose for his excellent "Tigana," this world is no less fascinating.

The book begins with a series of seemingly random events that offer no clue to where the story will take the reader. But when the large cast of characters begins to come together, the pattern of Kay's well-laid plan becomes clear. Kay takes the seemingly unrelated threads and weaves them into a masterpiece.

Another nice touch in this book is the change in Kay's style. His normally flamboyant and flowing writing style gives way to a shorter, simpler and perhaps even a bit choppy approach. Fans of Kay's usual eloquence may not be sure what to think of it, but I think it's very effective. This is a book dealing with simpler, more barbaric cultures than the sophisticated ones that David Gemmell has worked with in the past, and the writing style reflects that well.

After the disappointing "Sarantine Mosaic," it's nice to see Kay hitting his stride again. "The Last Light of the Sun" probably won't be remembered as Kay's best novel, but it's still an outstanding read. It has a faster pace than his previous work, and it further builds on a world where the cultural interactions are just beginning to emerge. It's easily one of the best books I've read so far this year.

Review: "People of the Owl" by Kathleen O'Neal Gear and W. Michael Gear

Thousands of people visit Poverty Point in northeastern Louisiana every year, but no one's ever seen it in quite the way Kathleen O'Neal Gear and W. Michael Gear present it in their latest book, "People of the Owl" ($25.95, Forge).

The book is the latest installment of the Gears' "People" series, which chronicles the prehistory of North America through fiction. In the novel, the familiar Poverty Point is transformed into a thriving hub of Native American life called Sun Town by its inhabitants.

We're introduced to six distinct clans that live in the different sections of the city. For years, the Owl Clan has held the reins of power in the matriarchal city, but the reign is coming to an end.

Wing Heart is the last female of her line but determined to hang on to her power. When her brother dies, she has to rely on her sons to perform the duties of Speaker. Her eldest son, White Bird, is perfect for the role. He's daring and heroic and has just returned from an amazingly successful trading journey far to the north. The other son is less likely to offer any assistance. At 15, Mud Puppy is a dreamer who seems a little slow-witted to most people.

When things go wrong, though, Mud Puppy, now known as Salamander, is thrust into the role of leader with all the political machinations and intrigue that go along with it.

Even though I've visited the Poverty Point site a number of times, the Gears were able to transform it into a new place for me, a much more vibrant place. Several of the ideas they presented in "People of the Owl" were intriguing to me.

One of the biggest battles the Gears say they face is against Native American stereotypes, and I understand that statement a little better after reading the book. There's a tendency to think of Native Americans as the warlike savages of the old Westerns or as an idyllic grand, noble and wise race.

There were certain elements of the book, such as the political backstabbing and intrigue, that I initially had trouble accepting. But the more I read, those things began to make sense. After all, we're not talking about mythical creatures, but people with all of the same virtues and vices that people have always had.

Though the people and events in the book were obviously fictional, I had the feeling that they could have been real. It also helps if you're familiar with the site and can visualize things more vividly than someone who hasn't been there.

It's been a few years since I visited Poverty Point, but after reading "People of the Owl," I'm ready to go back to perhaps sit at the top of the bird mound where Mud Puppy found his spirit guide or imagine the buildings of Sun Town sitting on the ridges.

With "People of the Owl," the Gears have accomplished what they intended. The book delivers what any novel should - an exciting, intriguing story with believable characters the reader can care about. But at the same time, by the end, I felt I understood the original inhabitants of Poverty Point just a little better.

Review: "Tamsin" by Peter S. Beagle

There are good ghost stories, and then there are good stories that happen to have a ghost. In "Tamsin" (ROC), Peter S. Beagle has managed to give the reader a little bit of both.

The book begins with the tale of a 13-year-old girl, Jennifer Gluckstein, who is displaced from her home in New York after her mother marries an Englishman. She's moved into the English countryside, on a farm in Dorset. The first 100 pages of the book take an in-depth look at her adjustment to this new life and her obstinate refusal to be happy there. During this time, the ghosts are only hinted at, but the story line still manages to hook the reader.

Even when Tamsin Willoughby appears in the story, it still doesn't turn into the traditional sort of ghost story. Instead, we watch as Jenny and Tamsin develop a friendship, and Jenny tries to puzzle out the mystery of Tamsin's life.

Tamsin was the daughter of a farmer named Roger Willoughby who worked the farm during Judge George Jeffreys' Bloody Assizes in the wake of the Duke of Monmouth's Rebellion. Jeffreys took a liking to the girl and was infuriated when she didn't return his affections, instead bestowing them on a musician who played for her while a portrait was painted.

The final third of the book finally introduces the traditional angle, when Jeffreys arrives at the farm to claim what he thinks is rightfully his - Tamsin.

The historical aspect of the book fascinated me, sending me to the Internet to research Judge Jeffreys and the Bloody Assizes. What I found indicates that Beagle's portrayal of him is likely fairly accurate. Though sources offer conflicting reports of how many men Jeffreys hanged for treason - varying from less than 200 to almost 500 - all agree that he was known for his cruelty. The self-righteous apparition we see in "Tamsin" seems to be in line with that.

The book is written from the point of view of a 19-year-old Jenny Gluckstein, looking back at the happenings as she made the transition to life in the English countryside. It's written in a chatty, conversational style that makes it seem more like a diary. At first, I didn't like the approach, but as the story played out I found that it made it seem more real. The diary style gave me the impression that Jenny was a real person, telling a real story.

We can feel the fascination that Jenny felt as Tamsin introduced her to a whole new world, filled with wondrous creatures - mischievous boggarts seeking to make a deal with the new owners of the home; the shape-shifting Pooka who can never be trusted; the sage billy-blind that always offers the right advice at the wrong time; the mysterious Oakmen who lurk in the tangled forest; and, of course, the fury of the Wild Hunt which soars through the skies of the English countryside. The style of the story - told in real words that could actually belong to a 19-year-old - makes it easy to believe these things actually exist in our world, below our level of consciousness.

While "Tamsin" is a story of the supernatural, it's not a white-knuckled, edge-of-your-seat page-turner. Instead, it's more like a meandering stroll through a haunted wood that contains spirits both fair and foul. But that only serves to make the story more effective.

With "Tamsin," Beagle shows again why he is one of the premier storytellers in fantasy or any other genre.

Review: "Dawnflight" by Kim Headlee

I’ve always been a fan of the Arthurian legends, and I thought I’d seen them approached in just about every possible way -- That is, until I read Kim Headlee’s "Dawnflight - The Legend of Guinevere."

Headlee takes the legendary characters Arthur, Guinevere, and Merlin, among others, and transforms them into believable historic figures. This book tells the story as it actually could have happened -- not behind the shining, pristine walls of mythical Camelot, but in our own world.

At its heart, "Dawnflight" is a love story, but don’t let that scare you away. This is no sappy, sentimental romance -- quite the opposite. It is actually a gritty tale of war and conquest, and not all of it is between nations.

Gyanhumara is a Pictish cheiftaness who is bound by a treaty to marry a Brytoni lord and ally her conquered tribe to the Roman Empire. She chooses Urien map Dumarec, one of her people’s worst enemies, in hopes of bringing peace. She soon regrets her choice. Some of her misgivings are due to Urien’s nature, but most are because she loves another man. She loves a man she once thought she hated above all others -- the conqueror of her people -- Arthur the Pendragon. That love could mean a civil war between Arthur and his arch-rival, yet unsteady ally, Urien.

Headlee says in the notes following the book that she feels Guinevere has gotten a "bad rap" in other tellings of the tale. Headlee intended to represent Guinevere a woman of "true power," and she has indeed succeeded. Chieftaness Gyanhumara is not a simpering lady of the court, nor a traitorous schemer as Guinevere has been portrayed in other versions. Instead she is a warrior-queen, as strong in will as in body.

She refuses to be subjugated by Urien, who obviously feels that no woman is even close to the equal of a man. Despite her revulsion, though, she still fully intends to honor her agreement to marry him. Her sense of duty to her people won’t allow her to do otherwise.

The events that follow -- as Arthur and Gyanhumara attempt to come together, despite seemingly the whole world being against them -- puts a whole new face on the classic tale of betrayal that leads ultimately to Arthur’s downfall in other adaptations. Definitely food for thought for any fan of the Arthurian legends. This isn’t just another re-telling of those same stories. "Dawnflight" will make you re-think all the tales of Guinevere and Arthur you’ve ever read.

As for the writing itself -- it is superb. Headlee makes you care about her characters, and forget the countless other stories you’ve read about the same characters. She also has a knack for keeping the reader up past bedtime. The first night, I was able to put the book down, but once the action really started, it became tougher. Headlee has a talent for ending every chapter on a note that makes you say "just one more chapter before bed." Then, before you know it, it’s 4 a.m. and you’re beginning the final chapter.

On a personal note, this book came along at just the right time for me. When I started it, I was at a point where I didn’t think fantasy could excite me anymore. Then, I picked it up. It has been quite a while since I devoured a novel the way I went through this one, and even now, I’m planning on giving it a second reading very soon.

In these days when every fantasy has to be at least a trilogy or more likely a watered-down drawn out saga, it’s rare that I look forward to another series of books. In this case, I think “Dawnflight” is just the tip of Excalibur, and there’s a lot more to the tale. I look forward to hearing it, and I hope Kim Headlee will stay with them until they’re done.