Browsing Tag

fantasy

Book review: Luna: La cité maudite, by Élodie Tirel

Luna: La cité maudite by Elodie Tirel
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

It’s a challenge to properly review this on the grounds that I’m very new to the French language–and this was the first book I tried to read in order to practice my reading comprehension with Quebecois French! So I have to comment on this book with the caveat that my understanding of it is therefore decidedly imperfect.

But that said, I was very pleased to be able to follow the broad strokes of the plot even though I missed a lot of the detail. Right out of the gate we start with a prologue in which the elf Ambrethil, a slave of the drow, is giving birth to a child. She’s scared out of her wits that her child will be born half-drow and a girl, which will run a huge risk of the baby being raised in the evil cult of the spider goddess Lloth. Ambrethil will have exactly NONE of this, so she arranges to have her baby smuggled out of the drow city, Rhasgarrok.

Commence the A plot, fast-forwarding twelve years, to when our young heroine Luna is being raised by wolves. Like ya DO. Her only bipedal family figure is a solitary mage, Le Marécageux, who taught her how to speak, read, and write. When her adoptive wolf pack is attacked and apparently wiped out by a drow attacker, Luna learns the truth of her origins from Le Marécageux, and resolves to venture into Rhasgarrok in search of her mother.

Meanwhile, over in plot B, the warrior Darkhan is also infiltrating Rhasgarrok on a mission of his own. He’s promptly captured by the sorceress Oloraé, who forces him to become a gladiator. Again, like ya DO.

I was entirely unsurprised that plot A and plot B eventually intersected, but was pleasantly surprised by what transpired then. Luna, despite her initial introduction being quite cliched (because of course she’s unbelievably beautiful and looks exactly like her mother, yadda yadda yadda), was quite a bit more mature and clever than Darkhan was willing to give her initial credit for. Sure, the whole “oh this sweet innocent young thing I must protect from the awful things in this city” thing is another heavily used trope, but Luna and Darkhan both carried it out in a surprisingly likeable fashion. Which is the overall thing about this book; it uses a lot of heavily used tropes, but it does it surprisingly charmingly.

And, despite how my ability to follow the French was rough at best, I was able to pick up on how there’s some surprisingly grim bits with Darkhan in the gladiatorial bouts. My rough impression of the interactions between Darkhan and Oloraé suggested there was probably innueundo there, too. But overall this certainly seemed appropriately written for a YA audience.

So if you’re an Anglophone looking to practice your French, this would be a fun way to do it. I’ll be checking out more books in the series, since they’re digitally available to US customers on a few different sites. I’ll give this one four stars, mostly out of pleasure for the language practice, but also for finding it generally charming.

View all my reviews

April 18, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: The Guardian Circle Series, by Isabelle Santiago

Isabelle Santiago is another fellow former Drollerie author, who’s taken the series she previously published with Drollerie and re-packaged it on her own to sell–much like I did with Faerie Blood, in fact! She’s about to drop Book 3 of this series, and so the piece she’s sent me for Boosting the Signal is meant to tie Book 2 and Book 3 together, using the POV of a minor secondary character.

The series is YA fantasy with some romantic elements, so if you’re a YA fan, I hope you’ll consider checking these out!

The Guardian’s Mark

His dreams were a strange kaleidoscope of colors. A touch of the rainbow broken into pieces of shattered glass. It took her a while to realize they were actually gemstones–cut, carved and shaped by his loving hands. When she went deeper, further into his subconscious, she found a world she could get lost in, a place of rolling green hills and rich brown earth. A mountain range decorated the horizon and the blue sky stretched as far as eternity.

His world smelled of earth and bark and iron. There was a hut, his own private little place at the very end of the dirt road, past the little village with stone cottages and wooden roofs. Within it, she found a scorching, suffocating heat.

Items forged by his own powerful hands hung from the walls. Intricate swords with gemstone-crusted hilts. Sculptures and vases crafted of clay, heated and glazed. Jewelry with stones in every color, hanging like wind-chimes, glistening in the sunlight that broke through the small window.

He stood at the far end, his naked back to her, the strong curve of his dark shoulders angled as he rolled a glowing, golden ball of molten glass across the table with a blowpipe. He looked like some sort of god, his back and arms streaked in cinders, glistening with sweat as he sculpted and formed something so delicate, so beautiful.

There was a kind of purity to his mind, one that she had yet to find in any of the other Guardians. His memories were not polluted by remorse or jealousy, unrequited love or the burden of unwanted destiny. The walls of his dreamscape seemed infinite, as though his soul had no bounds, and just as clear as the cooling glass, as the very Air she personified.

She smiled. He was everything she’d expected and more. Much more.

He turned, sensing the breeze, and put down his tools.

They stared at each other for a long, silent moment.

He took a step toward her, a flare of recognition in his molten gold eyes, though they had never met. And when he stopped right before her, her breath caught, just a moment, in her chest.

The Guardian’s Choice

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, feeling foolish. Her cheeks flushed warm.

“Yes,” he said, on an exhaled breath. He reached out to take her hand.

Her skin was a pale, translucent alabaster, compared to his dark, sun-kissed brown. Her hands were soft and small, looking delicate and frail in comparison to his, so large and callous. He twined his fingers with hers, pressed his hot palm to her cool one, and looked into her eyes as though he saw her very soul.

Air blew between them and around them, caressing their hair, dancing through their arms, pushing them together. Two halves of a whole, separated for so long. Earth and Air, united like the earth and the sky in that distant place on the horizon.

He smiled. “I’m glad to finally meet you,” he said, and that shy, earnest look on his face warmed every part of her. “I’ve waited for you for a very long time.”

“So have I,” she said, wilting in return. “So have I.”

***

She watched him work from the shadows, hidden within her Element, exploring him as she could not in flesh. Her stomach fluttered, a cluster of butterflies scurrying to break free. He pounded at the red-hot metal of a steel blade with a large mallet, his naked back and shoulders slick with sweat. She traced the ancient script of his Mark with her eyes, from his neck down the length of his spine, stark black against the warm caramel of his flushed, sun-kissed skin.

His muscles tightened with each mallet swing. The four walls of the tiny, sweltering workshop quivered, ready to buckle, to bow to his power.

Bianca glanced at the room she’d long committed to memory–a room that had felt like a glimpse into his brilliant soul, full of trinkets made of blown glass and gemstones, carved of marble or stone, forged through fire.

Now, she noticed suddenly, those trinkets were gone. Cluttered with tools and raw materials, the room still felt bare, devoid of the life its craftsman had once breathed into its walls, giving them color and depth.

Something was wrong. Something had changed since they last spoke.

The Guardian’s Fall

Enki turned as though he heard her thoughts. She startled. A dark bruise marred his jaw below his cheekbone. A red gash split the corner of his full lips. Bianca gasped, losing her cover, materializing before him.

“I thought it was you,” he whispered, his mouth tilting into the ghost of a smile. He removed his work gloves and placed them on the table behind him. “I can always tell when you’ve appeared. You bring the smell of springtime and sunflowers wherever you go.”

“Enki,” she breathed out, taking a careful step in his direction, unable to rip her gaze from the unsettling nature of his bruises.

“I have missed our meetings greatly,” he said and she saw the truth of it in the molten amber of his eyes.

“What happened?”

“I tried to save her,” he said, but his thoughts were far away and his voice was soft and haunted. “I tried to save her but I failed.”

“Who? Who did you try saving?”

He looked away, clutching the edges of the table to steady himself. “Much has changed since we last met.”

Bianca swallowed hard, holding back tears, mourning days spent in the shed talking of sunflower fields and freedom or of a grandiose courtyard in the shadow of a glittering marble temple. It all came back to her at once, the smell of coal and fire on his skin, the warm sunshine coming through the open shutters of his windows. His smile; so earnest, so true.

They’d shared the entirety of their lives here between these four small walls, filled in the spaces where their paths had diverted so they could reunite and be as they were meant to, Earth and Air, two halves made whole.

“It doesn’t have to be different,” she said, desperate, letting Air caress his skin.

“But it is. And I’m afraid the things I’ve done have carved a hollow I cannot refill.”

Her heart broke for him, for the innocence lost, for the boy she’d first met and the tattered remains of the man that replaced him. His soul was still pure at its core, but she felt the differences in him, swallowing him.

The violence. The guilt. The regret.

She should have known. It was only a matter of time before this World got him too.

“I’m sorry, Bianca.” He broke, and she wrapped her arms around him then, breathing in his scent, letting her Element cradle and soothe him. “I am not the man you knew. I have the blood of many men on my hands. It sings to me from within the soil. Reminding me. Cursing me.”

“What have you done?” she asked him, clutching him tighter, wishing just this once that she was as solid as he felt.

“I tried to save her,” he repeated. “But I failed.”

Buy the Books: Book 1 – The Guardian’s Mark |
Book 2 – The Guardian’s Choice | Book 3 – The Guardian’s Fall, available March 31

Follow the Author On: Facebook | Twitter | http://twistedfairytale.net/

March 21, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: First Daughter, by Caitlin Claire Diehl

Caitlin Claire Diehl is a fellow member of the Northwest Independent Writers Association, and it’s through NIWA that I first heard about her novel First Daughter. It’s on my queue to read, and I look forward to getting to know Caitlin and her work better!

First Daughter

You must help me! My mother, the Queen, is ill, bespelled by some sorcery that has left her insensible, removed from the cares of her people, of her only daughter. I am only an apprentice Web Weaver and can do nothing to help her no matter how many nights I pore over the ancient texts. The magic entrapping her is too strong, even for N’era, the only Keeper of the Web left to us, now that my mother is gone.

The need to free her is urgent, not just for me but for our land. Dark Forces stalk our borders and all the Queen Regent, my aunt, wants to do is wave her sword about and look important. I may not be the seer my mother is, but I have glimpsed the Threads that weave the future and I know with all my heart that swords will not defeat our enemy, not this time. Only no one will listen to me, though I am First Daughter to the Queen. My aunt thinks I am too young, too inexperienced to know anything. Sometimes I hate her.

My heart is heavy, grieving for my mother just out of reach, fearful of the danger threatening our land and our people. And I have a secret. Can I tell you? In the dark reaches of the night, in the Great Tapestry that has yet to be woven from the Threads of all our lives, I have glimpsed a golden thread, a young man foreign and strange, that calls to me in a way I have never felt before. Please don’t tell anyone. I have never had time for boys, for what are men but bigger boys?

Without your help, turning the pages of my story, my Threads will never be woven into a Pattern that can save my mother or our people. I will be left here, alone and helpless, poised on the brink of something… some destiny that surges through me and begs to be released in a grand Weaving of such power that nothing ever after will be the same.

Buy the Book: Amazon

Follow the Author On: Facebook

March 14, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: Journey of the Wanderer, by Shawna Thomas

Authors that write fantasy and SF, with or without a side helping of romance, are a bit thin on the ground at Carina Press. Which is why I’m particularly happy to welcome Shawna Thomas to Boosting the Signal. Take it away, Shawna! Or should I say, Shawna’s villain, Bredych? Anybody besides me hear Tom Hiddleston reading this speech, or what?

Journey of the Wanderer

In Bredych’s Words:

Most stories are told from the hero’s point of view. Mine is no different. I have been known by many names, but you may call me Bredych. Have you ever stopped to consider the broader picture? I have. They say history is told by the victor. Well, then, if that is true, who are the heroes? Those with ideals and noble intentions or simply those who have penned the words recounting the tale of what was done and by whom?

Are the heroes those whose ideals have won the day and anyone who challenged them are considered villains?

I have been cast into the role of antagonist. I have been called evil, manipulative, and greedy. It’s a role I accept for now. Not because I think that my ideals, my goals, are less worthy than those who dare oppose me, but because my enemies’ thoughts about me are irrelevant. It changes nothing.

I have worked tirelessly through the years, meticulously placing every player where I need them. I have built and rebuilt my kingdom from the ashes. Some worship me, some love me, and some hate me, but all fear me. Fear is the great motivator. Fear is necessary. After all my goals are noble. I, too, will unite Anatar under one ruler. I will bring peace to the land. I will drag these backwards peasants into the light kicking and screaming if necessary–for their own good.

And Ilythra? Yes, she pretends to be a hero. She plays at nobility and merely speaks of honor and love. But what does she offer that is of use? War? Death? The killing of the innocent? She seeks to reunite the stones, and she calls it justice. Where is the justice in handing all that power over to Ewen and the Siobani? And once the Siobani have it, what then? Will they use it to better mankind? History proves they will not. They chose to disengage, to retreat into legend rather than dirty their hands in human ways. I know. I was there.

I will reunite the stones. I will bring and end to suffering. Anatar will be united under my rule. In the end, all will see that my way is better, including Ilythra. We bear two of the great stones; the Siobani possess only one. If she will not unite with me, then she will fall with them. This is not something I desire–I do not wish to destroy her–but if she continues to oppose me, then it cannot be avoided. Rulers must make hard decisions and cannot let personal feelings cloud their judgment.

I accept the role of villain because history has yet to be written, and I plan to be the one who writes it.

I invite you to read these chronicles and decide for yourselves.

In Shawna’s Words: Excerpt from the Novel:

Bredych approached the map with reverence. He inhaled the scent of ink mixed with smoke from the poorly ventilated fire. A single lamp haloed the ivory surface, lending the map texture and depth as the flame flickered. Without quite touching the thick parchment, he traced the southern coastline with his finger, up across deserts to mountains and valleys. In a very real way, the map represented a lifetime of work, of careful planning. He followed the vivid lines to the far south, where the clans there still worshiped and feared him, up and to the east to Rugia, where the tribesmen feared and hated him. He shrugged. There was little difference really. It was the fear that drove them. In the end, it didn’t matter if he was offered tribute out of adoration or to appease him.

He moved his finger to the west coast. The villages there were unorganized and ineffective. They would be easy prey for the southern clans. Further north, built on a peninsula, the great city of Edriel stood waiting for him to pluck it. Maybe he’d make his seat of government there. He smiled. It had a rich history, he wondered if the king of Edriel knew that the Siobani had built the city and abandoned it with the rest of Anatar to the humans. He reviewed what he knew of King Jaryn. No, he had vast libraries at his disposal but he doubted the king had yet to crack open one book.

To the right of Edriel, across the plains, Bredych had very carefully placed small wooden figurines on several of the larger kingdoms. He stared at each one in turn, remembering the satisfaction of placing the piece there after the kingdom had come under his command. Each king in those places merely waited for his command. Each had been promised a place in his empire. Depending on how they served him in the coming conflict, he’d keep his promise.

He remembered the day he’d been reading through the Siobani histories and found out that he’d been lied to. The Siobani had kept the greater power for themselves. They didn’t use it, but kept the secret locked away from even him, a stone keeper. The elder race had treated him no better than an outsider, a beggar on the street.

That day he had decided to bring them down. To make them grovel at his feet. He clenched his teeth together. And that day was coming.

He wondered what Ilythra would do if she knew Ewen had a way to defeat him and simply refused to use it.

About the Author: Winner of an RT award for her debut novel, Altered Destiny, Shawna Thomas has been writing since she can remember. She currently lives in California with her husband and seven children. When she’s not writing or editing, she’s playing in the garden, developing new desserts or sitting back with a cup of coffee and a good book.

Buy the Book: Carina Press | Amazon | Barnes and Noble | Kobo

Follow the Author On: shawnathomas.com | Blogspot | Twitter | Facebook

March 7, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Boosting the Signal

Boosting the Signal: Blades of the Old Empire, by Anna Kashina

Anna Kashina is a fellow former author from Drollerie Press, and I’m pleased to feature her as the second of two posts for my doubleheader Boosting the Signal premiere day! Her newly fantasy novel, Blades of the Old Empire, has just been released by Angry Robot and is her first novel with a major SF/F publisher–and here, she gives us a look at her antagonist Nimos.

Blades of the Old Empire

I am Nimos, a member of the Kaddim Brotherhood. I am gifted with mind magic, which enables me to bend people to my will, pry into their thoughts, and affect their judgment. I taught other Kaddim Brothers the basics of this magic, but no one else is as good as I am.

In the days of the old Shandorian Empire, our brotherhood rose to power and was able to place our leader, the Reincarnate, on the imperial throne. However, our timing had been unfortunate and a group of renegades was able to overthrow us, leading to the bloodshed that is now referred to as the Holy Wars. The empire fell, and our brotherhood was forced to retreat into shadows, gathering enough power to rise again.

And now, our time has come. Once again, we stand strong, and we are in a great position to restore the glory of the Old Empire out of the scattered kingdoms that formed in its place. The Kaddim are formidable warriors, wielding rare and exotic weapons–orbens–that no one is able to resist. The only warriors to match us are the Majat, but they, like everyone else in the kingdoms, are susceptible to our mind powers. Through the anti-magic laws that our brotherhood helped to put into place during the empire days, everyone with a magic gift had been carefully weeded, leaving us with virtually no opposition to our plans.

And then, a problem arose. Prince Kythar, the heir to the throne of Tallan Dar, had somehow escaped the magic control laws. His inborn gift grants him control of the elements and a unique ability to focus, rendering him immune to the Kaddim magic. Worse, as we became aware of the problem and gathered efforts to capture the prince, he was able to pass his immunity to his Diamond Majat bodyguard, Kara. As long as she is by his side, we cannot possibly defeat him.

Kythar’s magic is rare, and fortunately he has no idea yet how to use it to its full power. Time is of essence. We must take care of the prince before he figures it out. But to do that, we first must take care of his bodyguard Kara, and this is a task no Kaddim warriors are able to accomplish. Her weapon skill makes her nearly undefeatable.

Fortunately, I have a plan. If we cannot take care of Kara, all we need to do is pitch her against her Majat Guild, and they will have no problem finishing the job.

A lot of mind control work went into carrying out this plan. And now it is all in motion and nothing could probably stop us.

Mwahahahahaaaaaaa…

Genre: Fantasy

Buy the Book: Angry Robot | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Random House

Follow the Author On: www.annakashina.com (official site and blog) | Facebook | Twitter

February 28, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Other People's Books

Reading Luna: La Cite Maudite by Elodie Tirel

Luna: La cité maudite

I haven’t quite finished off the Trilingual Hobbit Reread yet, but I’ve been itching to progress with my French reading. And so as of today I’ve started reading a book called Luna: La Cité Maudite, by Élodie Tirel. This is a Quebecois YA-level fantasy novel, which I’d heard about via cow and which I picked up in paperback when Dara and I visited Montréal in 2012.

This is also the book which, when I bought it in Renaud-Bray, got me the amused commentary from the clerk about how “you know this is for children, right?” And I told him that was absolutely fine, because I was trying to learn French and I thought it’d be a good way to practice. He told me he did the same for English.

And as you can see by the cover, there’s a silver-haired elf girl riding a wolf here. In addition to this art just being lovely, it amuses me by reminding me of Clearbrook from Elfquest.

This will be the first I’ve tried to read anything in another language without having an English translation handy, so yeah, this is going to be fun. I started reading it slowly today, and was pleased to discover in the prologue that while I couldn’t pick up on all the language, I did get enough to realize that the character being described was a young elf who’d been enslaved by the drow along with her loyal servant, that she was forced to live underground and sorely missed living on the surface, and that ohnoez!, she’s about to have a baby.

Which tells me that while I have a long way to go yet with French reading comprehension, I can at least pick up on the basic details of a story. Which is very promising indeed.

Bonus too that this series is actually available electronically for the Nook. We’ll have to see if I like this one well enough to buy the rest!

ETA: Oh hey the series is also available for digital purchase via Kobo. This will require looking into, given that I do have a Kobo account set up to support Third Place!

Also: looks like the series has an official Facebook page here, and an official site here. Though be warned that the official site does launch music, before you click!

And wow, this series is up to twelve books!

January 4, 2014 by Angela Korra'ti

Newer Posts