Review: The Salt King, by Natasha Pulley

 

Jesuit priest Avelyn Brocken was born into a mining family in Hreodwater, a small, isolated salt town in England. At 16, after a mining disaster killed his family, he fled. When a fellow priest is miraculously healed only to then be turned to salt after a visit to Hreodwater, Avelyn is sent to investigate. When he arrives, the town’s doctor, Jericho, tells him that the priest is not the only one experiencing strange cures—and may not be the only one in danger from a substance in the mine that the locals call “salt light.”
As Avelyn and Jericho team up to protect the Hreodwater from salt light, strange happenings occur at mines around the world. At an archaeological dig on the Dead Sea, electrical devices froth salt, while at a huge salt works in Poland, communication is lost, and rumors circulate of total annihilation. As salt light devastates cities around the world, Avelyn must decide what to believe—and whether his faith is strong enough to withstand an apocalypse.

​“Seeing is believing and believing is true.”

Natasha Pulley's The Salt King is so different from the author's usual formula, and yet it feels undeniably hers in the use of the language and clever turns of phrase, in the quirky worldbuilding, and in the profound reflections on language, memory, myth, and organized religion. This crowded contemporary apocalyptic/disaster novel starts out quiet and subdued, with a few quasi-horror tropes, and slowly grows in scope as the focus sometimes shifts from the main narrative to show what's happening in the rest of the world, giving it almost the taste of an echological/theological thriller.

At its heart, it's of course the quiet story of longing between an affection-starved priest dealing with a crisis of faith and, in real Pulley fashion, a man that's not what it seems. The world-within-a-world of the Hreod, with their folklore and their customs, their matriarchy and their hauntings, feels very lived in and fascinating, and spotting the occasional nod to previous books is always fun.

The pacing stumbles a bit at the end, with a non-resolution and a maddening time-jump, but the author makes it work. It's also worth noting that Pulley seems to have found a new balance with her female characters, having here a varied array of women not tortured by the narrative.

The Salt King is a treat.

✨ 4.5 stars

 

Review: A Snake Among Swans, by Hannah Kaner

 

Tilde has always heard the whispers of the kithwood, the voices of her ancestors speaking through the mysterious forest of her homeland. But now both the kithwood and her kingdom are in danger. For Tilde is the only surviving heir of a conquered land. To unite the people and finally stop the bloodshed, she marries the aging warlord, King Liran. Her duty is to bind their nations and bear him a son.
But the swan king’s court is dangerous. Tilde is a threat to the claim of Liran’s older sons, who will do whatever it takes to remove her, to the princess Elise who has only ever known loyalty to her family, and to the priests who own them all. Yet none of them know that Tilde is a snake in their midst, with allies on her side and dark, forbidden power of her own. She wants her kingdom back, and she will sacrifice everything to claim it. For the queen to rise, the swans must fall.

​“I was past longing for death. I had chosen power. I was no martyr.”

Hannah Kaner's A Snake Among Swans is a powerful sapphic retelling of the fairytale The Wild Swans, filled with female rage and with reflections on the steep cost of survival and on the danger of organized religion. Brimming with intrigue and ferocious power struggles, this brutal tale doesn't shy away from many betrayals and from the triggering aspects one might expect from the story of a woman whose only expected job is to make a heir.

Tilde is a fantastic protagonist, hellbent on revenge for her conquered kingdom, a grey character in all her choices. The other main character,  Elise, is traumatized by her father's rule and her brothers' whims, who are left mostly unchecked as they vie for power of their own. Their slow dance as they begin to gravitate towards each other feels incredibly believable, and so does the inevitable conclusion of this first installment of what promises to be a great trilogy.

The vast constellation of characters surrounding the two protagonists is varied and well-developed; no one feels like a stand-in just to move the plot along, but each of them has their own reasons to act as they do, be it mosnstrous or not. Out of all the characters, Tilde's warrior handmaiden shines with her loyalty, while Elise's father is a powerful antagonist, utterly unpredictable.

The worldbuilding feels very authentic, aided by the lyrical prose. Tilde's tribe and powers are seemingly inspired by the druids, and the everpresent kithwood is both majestic and terrifying in its allure, a sort of protagonist in its own right. The book takes its time, but the slow pacing allows to really delve into the story.

A Snake Among Swans is an empowering tale.

✨ 5 stars

 

Review: The Chosen, by Ricardo Pinto

 

Young Carnelian has spent his entire life alone with his father, who years ago rejected the savage cruelty of the Masters of Osrakum and was sent into exile. But now a ship has come flying through the winter gales to shatter his quiet world. Three Masters disembark, and as they remove their masks of gold, Carnelian is awed by the light that seems to radiate from their skin. In formal conclave they beg Carnelian's father to return with them to Osrakum to oversee the election of a new God Emperor.
And so Carnelian begins to fulfill his destiny. Along his perilous journey to the Osrakum, he is forced to learn bitter lessons in bloodshed, power, intrigue, love, and treachery--and sets in motion the concluding events in a story four thousand years old.

​“Your bones are my bones.”

Ricardo Pinto's The Chosen is an intense exploration of imperialism and eugenics, set in an Aztec-inspired world. The main character is a young achillean man who has been living outside of the empire due to his father's self-imposed exile. When circumstances call the patriarch back to the capital, a long journey of loss of innocence begins to take place, and the protagonist has to reckon with the cruelty of the ruling class - whom he belongs to - who call all others barbarians and beneath them, treating servants as less than nothing and raping and killing them as punishment for inane transgressions.

Published at the end of the Millennium, this novel is a product of its time, but it's also surprisingly modern. It's a dark reflection on the absolute power and corruption of a caste system that employs every possible means so that the status quo is not threatened. Most of the book is almost a travelogue of horrors, until the capital is reached and a soft romance seems to bloom with another boy, creating also the exploration of the delicate balance of power in a relationship. The two young men's sexual awakening is handled with grace, with no uncomfortable focus due to their youth. The plot is pretty minimal, but the finale cleverly sets up the rest of the trilogy.

The prose is quite simple, but the rich worldbuilding makes up for it. This is a complex, dark world, beautiful and terrible.

The Chosen is an old gem.

✨ 4 stars

 

Review: The Great Tree of Iris, by Jess Skultety

 

The Great Tree of Iris: a place of unmatched healing power for humans. Top scholar Lia Tovar protects the Tree in honor of her dead father, but she has visions of its tragic demise. When Rory Elatha, an elf from the hidden city of Kyrali, arrives seeking experts to save the decaying, sacred sunflower fields, Lia suspects their situations are connected. For once, her books cannot help, and she answers the call. To save the Tree, Lia must learn to trust six allies.
When they discover one part of a deadly prophecy, Lia, Rory, and their party search desperately for a way to challenge fate. But as more natural disasters arise in their race across the continent, Lia must decide if she can let Rory into her heart, and if that will free or destroy her.

​“Everyone needs help sometimes.”

Jess Skultety's The Great Tree of Iris is a fantasy adventure in the most classical sense, a prophecy-driven quest with a diverse group of characters. Their PoVs alternate often, even in the course of the same chapter, giving it a chaotic feel that mirrors the franticness of their mission: a race against time, as an ancient tree lays dying, dragons scorch the land, and gods wait and see.

The story might have needed a little more pages to breathe, but as it stands, it's still a love letter to high fantasy and to J.R.R. Tolkien, from whom it borrows a few elements while giving it queer joy with a mostly queer cast and a variety of relationships. Especially beautiful was the reference to a poem with the fabled relationship of an Elf and a human, and the revealed layers as the story progressed. The three main couples, one already established, were all very sweet, especially the sapphic relationship involving Lia and the mysterious Elf she meets.

The Great Tree of Iris is a pretty tale.

✨ 3.5 stars

 

Snippet: The Hourglass Throne, by K.D. Edwards

 

As Rune Saint John grapples with the challenges of assuming the Sun Throne, a powerful barrier appears around New Atlantis’s famed rejuvenation center. But who could have created such formidable magic . . . what do they want from the immortality clinic . . . and what remains of the dozens trapped inside?
Though Rune and his lifelong bodyguard Brand are tasked with investigating the mysterious barrier, Rune is also busy settling into his new life at court. Claiming his father’s throne has irrevocably thrown him into the precarious world of political deception, and he must secure relationships with newfound allies in time to keep his growing found family safe. His relationship with his lover, Addam Saint Nicholas, raises additional political complications they must navigate. But he and Brand soon discover that the power behind the barrier holds a much more insidious, far-reaching threat to his family, to his people, and to the world.

"We are a people that share our love."

K.D. Edwards' The Hourglass Throne sticks the landing of this first trilogy in his Tarot Sequence, leaving the reader with many answers, general delight, bigger questions, and absolutely begging for more. This is a series of grand gestures and quiet moments, with the most beautiful depiction of found family and the many ties between loved ones that I've ever read about. Whether it be platonic or romantic, love is big and important and all-encompassing. At the same time, the author weaves an intricate plot with many moving pieces and implications that will be dealt with down the road. The worldbuilding continues to be stunning, and the main character's past trauma is always handled deftly and respectfully, never feeling like a gimmick that's there to move the story along or provide cheap conflict.

✨ 5 stars

 

ARC Review: Our Caged Fates, by Robin A. Costantin

 

In a frozen, hostile world, Elinros is on the run. After spending far too long in her beloved’s clutches—unaware of his true nature—she has now escaped into the arms of the unknown. But beyond Kastìel’s palace lies nothing but an endless forest, shaken by storms, buried in eternal snow, and teeming with monsters.
In that desolate land, Elinros wanders without memories, one step away from freezing to death and hunted by the man she thought she knew. That is, until an unexpected savior arrives, bringing truth, light, and warmth. Nattsòl is just like her: a survivor who escaped their beloved’s trap—and now she’s willing to do anything to get her revenge. But she needs Elinros’ help to stop him. Accompanied by Sliver, Nattsòl’s monster-dog, the two embark on a dangerous journey into the depths of the forest, where almost no light reaches and sinister things hide in the dark.

My thanks to the author for providing an ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Robin A. Costantin's Our Caged Fates is an atmospheric sapphic novella about escaping an abusive relationship and finding oneself again. This is reached through the age-old amnesia trope, and it's done in a way that feels fresh and effective. It's teeming with horrific imagery and near-eldritch beings, with female rage and some upsetting body-horror; but it's also a story about second chances and love.

The main character Elinros slowly relearns things about herself, slowly changing over the course of the book; her relationship to fellow survivor Nattsòl develops quickly, since this is a short novella, but it feels believable. Maybe a few more pages would have helped sell the romance more, but it's still a nice touch, and Nattsòl is very well-developed despite the lack of point of view narration.

The final third of the book is where the action and the most vivid worldbuilding really take place, making this novella pop out. The prose is also quite lyrical, something that's to be appreciated even more since English isn't the author's first language.

Our Caged Fates is a quiet gem.

✨ 4 stars

 

Review: The Last Sun, by K.D. Edwards

 

Rune Saint John, last child of the fallen Sun Court, is hired to search for Lady Judgment's missing son, Addam, on New Atlantis, the island city where the Atlanteans moved after ordinary humans destroyed their original home.
With his companion and bodyguard, Brand, he questions Addam's relatives and business contacts through the highest ranks of the nobles of New Atlantis. But as they investigate, they uncover more than a missing man: a legendary creature connected to the secret of the massacre of Rune's Court. In looking for Addam, can Rune find the truth behind his family's death and the torments of his past?

"I am, before anything else, a survivor."

K.D. Edwards' The Last Sun is a queer urban fantasy adventure that's brimming with heart, with a tight plot and poignant moments. It's witty and fast-paced, but also deals with found families while the protagonist faces the aftermath of a decades-old horrific assault, and there's even a bit of an achillean romance.

The emotional center of the book is without a doubt the platonic relationship between main character and sole narrator Rune and his bodyguard Brand. This beautiful bond of love, trust, and friendship defies the expected conventions of the genre, showing a healthy male relationship filled with moments of intimacy. Rune isn't the stereotypical main character of an action-packed urban fantasy either; he's kind and welcoming while being a competent agent and a great fighter. The romance doesn't take center stage in the narration, also because he's very tentative and traumatized, but his love interest is perfect in that regard. 

This trio of characters plays against each other very well, and I'm curious to see how things will develop in the rest of the trilogy and then the nine-books series. The rest of the cast is very well-developed, too, especially the two young boys with problems of their own.

The prose is very simple and matter-of-fact, but the world-building is very intriguing, teeming with some mysteries about the current situation came to pass and with conspiracies in the shadows, tantalizing tidbits that get the reader's attention while keeping, for now, most of the cards close to the author's chest. New Atlantis is a fascinating city, and so is the complex web of intricate influence held by the Arcana, living embodiments of the tarot cards who hold all the secular power.

The Last Sun is an excellent first installment.

✨ 4.5 stars

 

Review: The Color of Time, by Millie Abecassis

 

Princess Cyrelle has always been faithful and true to her family, country, and Goddess. But now her brother, King Elias of Cicia, has asked for—no, commanded—her hand in marriage. Desperate to avoid this incestuous union, Cyrelle requests a series of increasingly impossible gifts and petitions the Goddess for a sign to sway her resolute brother’s proposal. As Elias persists undeterred, Cyrelle must risk everything to escape the only life she’s ever known.
Soon, she becomes Green Scales, hiding and struggling to survive on her own, far across the galaxy. But Phau isn’t the peaceful refuge Cyrelle had hoped for, and when the leader of its burgeoning rebel faction recognizes the runaway princess, she is forced to choose between safety and freedom. With the fate of two kingdoms on the line and nowhere left to run, Cyrelle must decide what it means to be true to herself, to her people, and to her heart.

​“I will never hide who I am again.”

Millie Abecassis' The Color of Time is a sapphic science-fantasy retelling of Perrault's Donkeyskin, although the incestous father from the french fairytale is turned into the protagonist's brother. This novella packs a lot into a pretty short format, and it could have worked, but instead it feels like a summary of the novel it could have been. Time goes by quickly, and we jump from a scene to the next without actually delving into the meat of the story and the people we meet.

This is felt especially with the epic relationship between princess Cyrelle and another woman, whom we don't really get to know, but we're supposed to feel profoundly about some story beats. And the bones are there, promising to be something spectacular, but it's difficult to really care.

On the other hand, the worldbuilding is quite unique, with gods whose scope encompasses the entire universe, and beautiful snakes, and rich cultures. The second-person narration is also very well done, with some snippets of first-person sprinkled in-between. 

The Color of Time is a nice retelling.

✨ 3.5 stars

 

Snippet: Lambent, by T.D. Cloud

 

Komiren, Fox God of the Forest Shrine, has been alone for centuries. Duty is no longer enough, but with eternity staring him down, his options for companionship are limited. Cerdei the Lantern Spirit hasn’t been wandering this nebulous world just long enough to know he wants nothing to do with the lazy Fox God who spends more time sleeping than answering prayers. He’s content to walk his path alone, even if it does mean walking straight towards oblivion.
In this world, Fate always has a plan; whether or not you want to fall in with it, though, is something much less certain.

"I've been tired for longer than I can remember."

T.D. Cloud's Lambent is an atmospheric achillean novella loosely inspired by Japanese folklore, about a forest god learning to live again. The lush prose and the simple setting work very well together, creating a cozy but mournful feel. The character work on the other hand lacks some depth, as the fragmented narration and the hazy memories of past interactions make for an unclear read, and the link between the fox god and the spirit seems to come from nowhere. It's still pretty sweet, though, and the Raven character is the real highlight, a sort of trickster figure who moves things along and undergoes his own journey.

✨ 3.5 stars

 

ARC Review: Locusta, by Emily Dexter

 

Born in the ancient region of Gaul, Locusta is the last of her kind—a Druid whose communion with the spirit world grants her the dangerous gift of identifying and wielding deadly substances. When Roman soldiers attack her home and slaughter her mother, Locusta is captured and enslaved, taken to the heart of the empire where political plots abound and death commands a high price. Guided by Arawn, the god of death, she must learn to survive within the brutal, glittering world of ancient Rome.
Her strange talents soon catch the attention of the Roman elite, and she becomes ensnared in a double life—poisoner by night for the cunning Antonia Augusta, and lady-in-waiting by day to Livia, the Emperor’s ambitious cousin. As Locusta plants the seeds of revenge against those who destroyed her home, her connection with Livia deepens into a passionate, forbidden romance that threatens them both. Surrounded by danger and deceit, Locusta’s poisons become their only protection against the increasingly unstable Emperor Caligula and the enemies lurking in every shadow.

​Thank you to Netgalley for this ARC in exchange for an honest review.

Emily Dexter's Locusta is a sapphic historical fantasy set in ancient Rome, inspired by the little that's known about the infamous titular character, a known poisoner. The book is very well researched, and it shows; the prose is also quite nice, with lovely turns of phrase. Locusta's journey from young woman to consummate poisoner is handled perhaps too quickly, with far less introspection one would expect from one who is dragged away from home and sold as slave after witnessing the murder of everyone she knows.

Instead, Locusta settles into her role with little doubt nor recollection, and quickly adapts to Rome and Rome's intrigue, especially when she falls in love with Livia. Their romance was sweet, and Livia's character ends up far more interesting than the protagonist, with her isolation and cunning. In general, all the female characters were very well done, especially Antonia Augusta.

The magical aspect mingles with history in an intriguing way, showing what a god's patronage and meddling might look like. 

Locusta has a strong premise, but it fails to stick the landing.

✨ 3.5 stars