Friday, July 31, 2026

2026/111: A Trade of Blood — Robert Jackson Bennett

My augmentations had permanently altered my very biologies. Had I been made a beast, to be sacrificed for my family and the Empire? Or was I now a shepherd, and the common folk of the cantons my flock? [loc. 3578]

My initial gleeful review is here: I liked this novel just as much on rereading.

Two households, both alike in dignity... The Armentas are a wealthy aristocratic family, raising monstrous cows to feed the Empire: the Buravs are a neighbouring family who provide the beans that feed the cows. The two families have been feuding for years: despite this, Castus Armenta and Zanzay Burav were planning to run away together. Now Zanzay lies horribly dead and Castus is in the local jail, unable to explain the events of the previous night. 

Just another case for Immunis Ana Dolabra and her trusty assistant, Signum Dinios Kol! Together, the two uncover a history of misfortune (or perhaps a family curse) plaguing the Armentas, and an ancient forest which may harbour gods from before the Empire. And they learn about farming. This is not Romeo and Juliet: it's certainly not a romance. It is, instead, a novel about the grotesque excesses of agriculture. It highlights the routine slaughter and the wastefulness, the ecological impact, and the use of enslaved creatures* as field workers.

And it's also about Ana and about Din -- the former coming a little closer to revealing the secrets of her alterations, the latter wholly unprepared to encounter someone from his past. There is body horror, there are unsettling mental changes, and there is more, much more, about the Empire itself. (I note that Ana and Din are moving towards the heart of the Empire -- the first book was set on the coast, the second in the independent kingdom of Yarrowdale, and this novel within the Third Ring.)

Very much looking forward to the next book -- this is clearly not a trilogy! -- and to learning even more about the Empire, and about the eccentric Ana. (A taste of Ana: "I'd normally be given to suspect his enemies, the Armentas --except they've nearly been eliminated... Or so we think! I can't confirm, because people keep goddamn interrupting me with their dying!" [loc. 2597])

*Small creatures known as cats, though they are more like squirrels or weasels: I suspect the author of devising a way to refer to characters as 'cat-herders'.

Read because: I enjoyed the first two books so much, and leapt at the chance to get an ARC. Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for the advance review copy, in exchange for this full honest review. UK publication date is 4th August 2026.

Wednesday, July 29, 2026

2026/110: As We Fall Through Time — Claire North

Every time traveller who has ever trodden on a butterfly has created a ripple through time. These ripples make more ripples which make more travellers, the snake swallows its tail... [loc. 694]

Cal is a time-traveller, and something of a paradox: sometimes male, sometimes female. He encounters Olivier, a French soldier, in 1789, and falls in love. Which seems to be somehow connected to the temporal paradox sparked by fellow time-traveller Fadimatu encountering her own corpse in The Museum of the Unmasked Conspiracy...

This is a love story, a story of climate activism, and a murder mystery. It's narrated in first person by a mysterious observer. Time is infested with ghosts and witches, 'fathomless creatures of unlived realities': paradoxes can be healed, or at least ameliorated, by paradoxical objects ('amaranthines') such as a ceramic flower that did and did not crack in the kiln.

I am already looking forward to rereading this next month for the full review...

Read because: Claire North has become one of my favourite authors -- from the 'Songs of Penelope' trilogy to the awesome Slow Gods. Obviously I read this as soon as it landed on my Kindle... Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for the advance review copy, in exchange for the full honest review I'll write nearer UK Publication Date -- 10th October 2026.

Friday, July 24, 2026

2026/109: Apollo 13 — James Lovell / Jeffrey Kruger

I’m afraid this is going to be the last moon mission for a long time.

Initially published as Lost Moon and retitled to tie in with the movie Apollo 13, this is Jim Lovell's account -- with Jeffrey Kruger's wealth of background research and synthesis -- of the NASA mission that would have been the third Moon landing. It's not just a minute-by-minute account of the accident and the return, both on board the spacecraft and back at Mission Control, but also a biography of Lovell: there are vignettes featuring other people impacted by the events (such as the spacecraft recovery specialist aboard the USS Iwo Jima), and a detailed account of Marilyn Lovell waiting at home with their children, supported by friends and neighbours.

I found this compelling listening: it's extremely well paced. The technical details of the damage to the Service Module, and the ingenious workarounds developed by crew and Control, are explained clearly for a non-technical audience. The constant stress of the four days after the explosion (which vented most of the oxygen to space, and forced the three-man crew to take refuge in the Lunar Module which had been designed to support two men for two days on the surface of the Moon) is clear, but there's never false drama.

The crew's levelheadedness did occasionally falter, but only in throwaway comments. (I suspect Kruger relied heavily on the log transcripts.) And I found the dogged perseverance of Mission Control uplifting and inspirational. It's also amazing to me that the mission was completed -- not only on the ground, but in the spacecraft -- with less processing power than my smartwatch. (See Reddit for discussion).

Narrated very well by Fred Sanders, whose voice I found pleasant and who injected humour into the lighter interludes, and didn't speed up when things became tense.

Read because: I don't quite remember this happening (unlike some of my friends), but it's been part of my cultural background for most of my life. I realised I knew very little about the disaster, though I did know it hadn't ended in tragedy. And the NASA space program, at its height in the '60s and '70s, is exciting.

Thursday, July 23, 2026

2026/108: Dragon's Fin Soup — S P Somtow

...in this town, there’s no distinction between the real world and the world of illusion. It’s the only place in the world where all truths are true at the same time. [p. 264]

Subtitled 'Eight Modern Siamese Fables', these stories are set in Thailand -- mostly Bangkok -- at various points in the late twentieth century, and typically deal with the culture clash between Thai and Western culture, with flourishes of the fantastic. I especially liked 'The Steel American', about a knight seeking the Grail in a small village, and 'Fiddling for Water Buffaloes', a cheery tale of an American anthropologist, the trade in fake antiquities, and possible alien invasion. 

Some of the other stories felt dated: sexist, cyberpunk-inflected, plain body-horror. And the text is not formatted well in this edition.  In some of the stories it looks as though a draft version, complete with markup and comments, has been used.

But when it's good, it's very good: the little details of domestic life, the prevalence of belief in spiritual entities (good and otherwise), the juxtaposition of ancient and modern. I intend to read more of Somtow's work, having (I think) bounced off some of his horror fiction in the 1990s.

Read because: Many of S P Somtow's books are available on Kindle Unlimited, and I wanted to fill a challenge prompt -- 'by a Thai author or about Thailand'. This one looked interesting and accessible, and fulfilled both aspects of the prompt.

Tuesday, July 21, 2026

2026/107: The Georgian Star — Michael Lemonick

Herschel... followed his own ambition, which was nothing less than to understand the universe, to figure out its overall structure and composition. [loc. 180]

A comprehensive overview of the lives and work of William and Caroline Herschel, covering not only their astronomical accomplishments (which are many) but their previous careers in music -- William was a professional musician and composer, and Caroline a soprano who performed some of his works. 

Born in Germany, William emigrated to England in 1757, and Caroline joined him in 1772. At this point Herschel had already become interested in astronomy, and roped in his sister as assistant. They built telescopes (Caroline grinding the lenses and polishing the mirrors) and recorded their observations, which were considerably more meticulous, detailed and accurate than those of their peers. 

William discovered Uranus, though he thought at first it was a comet: on realising it was a planet he proposed the name Georgium Sidus, hoping this would attract royal favour and the post of Astronomer Royal. Caroline, meanwhile, discovered multiple comets and some Messier objects that Messier had missed.

Lemonick doesn't assume too much in the way of scientific knowledge or understanding: I was grateful for the clear explanations of theories and methods, though more astronomically-minded readers may feel these are overly basic. The Georgian Star succeeds in presenting a rounded picture of the Herschels as scientists and as human beings, and setting out the importance of their work in modern astronomy. I liked the argument that Herschel's approach was radical: that he was more a cosmologist than an astronomer, and realised that his desire to understand the universe could only be achieved by close observation. I was also amused to read that (like many of his contemporaries) he believed the planets, and the Sun, were inhabited. 

The audiobook was read by Paul Boehmer: somewhat monotone, but no weird pronunciations or false amusement!

Read because: I'm interested in astronomy, and in Caroline Herschel, and this was on offer on Libro.fm.

Monday, July 20, 2026

2026/106: The House That Eats the Dead — Max Doty

I curled up in a chair with ... a copy of a book on tidying by Marie Kondo. ... it would be good to get rid of some things. Maybe the house would help me.
I went to put down my book and found my hand empty. Marie Kondo was gone, tidied into oblivion. [loc. 623]

Claire and Tom Morgan, with their delightful children Grace (6) and Derek (15), and their dog King, move from the urban frenzy of San Francisco to a leafy suburb. Their new home seems perfect, though food seems to rot quickly and flowers wilt in hours. Gradually, Claire realises that the house devours anything organic -- but only if it's dead. She and her children are safe, and nosebleeds get cleaned up instantly. And only the owners of the house remember anything that has been eaten.

At first this seems convenient, even benevolent. The house has eaten Grace's favourite soft toy, but she doesn't remember loving it, and a tearful crisis is averted. Later, Claire and Tom decide that the children would be better off not remembering that they'd ever owned a dog...

Claire is the protagonist, a stay-at-home mother (formerly an artist) experimenting with the house's powers, and treating it as an individual. She brings it cow hearts to stop it eating the food in the fridge: she paints with organic paints, and the house finds a way to tell its story. Claire has a traumatic past, and so does the house -- which is very much a character in the novel, though it never speaks ... at least not to Claire. It affects each of the Morgans in different ways: Grace likes the stories it tells, Tom finds it helpful in climbing the corporate ladder, Derek's self-confidence grows, and Claire is painting again...

I was reminded of Stephen King's Pet Sematary, which also features a family discovering a supernatural phenomenon and being altered by their use of it. But this is a more mundane narrative: a family drama with horror elements, rather than a story of demons and tragedies. Which isn't to say that there aren't deaths, and bad decisions -- but the impulse behind both is human rather than occult.

It took me a few chapters to get into this novel, because Claire is not immediately likeable: but once the plot started escalating I was gripped. I liked the morally grey characters, the vaguely-sketched backstory, and the family dynamics, and I found Claire's ethical dilemmas fascinating. Would I have done the same?

Thanks to the publisher and Netgalley for the advance review copy, in exchange for this full honest review. UK Publication Date is 13th August 2026.

Read because: The publisher invited me to read this, on the basis of my having enjoyed other Tor Nightfire titles.

Thursday, July 16, 2026

2026/105: My Best Friend's Exorcism — Grady Hendrix

For the Langs, Madonna was totally and completely out of the question. But when Gretchen's dad was at work and her mom was taking one of her nine billion classes (Jazzercise, power walking, book club, wine club, sewing circle, women's prayer circle), Gretchen and Abby would dress up like the Material Girl and sing into the mirror. Gretchen's mom had a jewelry box devoted entirely to crosses, so it was basically like she was inviting them to do it.

Set in Charleston in the 1980s, this is the story of two best friends -- Gretchen, from a well-off, conservative, religious family, and Abby, whose background is lower-income and rather liberal -- from elementary school to adulthood. It's full of 80s culture: big hair, Benetton perfume, fad diets, Madonna, personality quizzes, Halley's Comet ... and the Satanic Panic, which in this instance turns out to be justified. It's also packed with period-typical attitudes and behaviour (racism, sexism, homophobia, corporal punishment) which I remember being 'normal' back then, and find horrific now.

Abby and Gretchen are best friends. They attend the same school, and are friends (but not best friends) with constantly-dieting Margaret and class swot Glee. One night at Margaret's riverside home they take LSD, and Gretchen declares that she's going skinny-dipping. She vanishes, and the other three search for her all night, eventually finding her naked in the woods, saying she can't remember what happened. After that, Gretchen becomes a lot meaner, and Abby starts to wonder if her friend has been the victim of sexual assault. Then the Lemon brothers, charismatic preacher-types, do a show at the school, and Christian Lemon says he can see that Gretchen has a demon...

Issues of race, class, wealth are explored in the manner of a high school comedy-drama, but the story gets increasingly dark. Abby, though, is a resourceful and courageous protagonist, and the actual exorcism is a virtuoso blend of character, setting and cultural references. (It made me laugh, but it's also very emotional.) Yes, it's a horror novel, and there are some terrible scenes: but there is so much humour and ridiculousness that I could tolerate the nastier elements.

Interestingly, the novel doesn't stop with the exorcism. We see Abby and Gretchen growing up, changing, staying more or less friends for decades. I really liked that Hendrix showed us how their friendship changed and evolved as they grew older.

I listened to the audiobook, read by Emily Woo Zeller, whose narration was very engaging and emotional, to the extent that I sometimes had to pause the shriekier bits! Some aspects, however -- like the yearbook messages and newspaper clippings -- didn't translate well to audio format.

Read because: The book appeared in the Libro.fm sale a while ago, and having enjoyed The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires I snapped it up. I was in the mood for something very different from Neumeier's trilogy, and this certainly delivered.