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REVIEW: Mercy: Tears of the Fallen by Chance Dillon

Last Updated on May 14, 2025

Chance Dillon kicks off his brand-new dark epic fantasy series with Mercy: Tears of the Fallen, and it would honestly be the understatement of the century to say that this is one of the most dangerously ambitious and boldly imaginative debuts I have ever read. Come for the rich world building, wicked rune magic and exhilarating action, stay for the deliciously complicated characters, powerful emotional journeys and merciless gut punches that just hurt oh so good. This book is not, as Dillon is so fond of saying, a puppy; it’s an absolute beast of a book with sharp teeth and claws, and it isn’t afraid to show them.

We are thrown headfirst into the vast world of Maetlynd, which has been ravaged by war and is still recovering from the cataclysmic crimson storms that blighted the land, poisoned the waters and turned people mad 34 years ago. Now, the tenuous peace of the newly established Epoch of Unity is becoming ever more fragile, and the fate of the world might just lie in the hands of a fallen hero and a bitter exile, whether they realise it or not. Deadly webs are being spun, ancient conspiracies are unravelling, and threats both old and new, both human and supernatural, are revealed to be lurking around every dark corner.

From the very first page, the Malazan: Book of the Fallen and Elden Ring influences on Mercy: Tears of the Fallen are evidently clear, especially in its ‘sink or swim’ storytelling and its wildly expansive world building. Usually, I tend to get extremely frustrated by these types of dense and intentionally confusing stories, but somehow I was just completely along for the ride here. Yes, I felt like a lost traveller stumbling through a foreign land for the majority of this book, and yes, some aspects remained frustratingly vague the entire way through (especially regarding the Artisans/Martyrs and the ins and outs of the Rune magic), but I have to admit that my curiosity, awe, and excitement way overpowered my sense of overwhelm and intimidation.

What can I say, Dillon just captured my imagination and tickled my curiosity like very few authors can, and I honestly love Mercy: Tears of the Fallen in all its perfectly imperfect uniqueness and unconventionality. So much of this story is just shrouded in the most addictive air of mystery and secrecy, and especially the mystifying blending of history, myth and legend, as well as the suspenseful build-up of the looming threat from the uncharted northern lands of Mersianei had me in an absolute chokehold from start to finish.

But to me, the true beauty of Mercy: Tears of the Fallen is the epic vastness of it all, contained in the intimate perspective of its deeply layered and flawed characters. Even if the character voices could have been a bit stronger and more distinct at times, I absolutely loved that we got to explore this rich world through the eyes of so many different morally gray people with such diverse racial/cultural backgrounds and clashing motivations. No, I didn’t love all of these characters, and no, I am still not entirely sure what some of them are up to exactly (if they even knew it themselves), but that is exactly what made them so morbidly fascinating to follow.

I think a lot of readers will latch onto Alevist and Erevayn the most as they are arguably the true main characters of this tale, and there’s no denying that my broken boys steal the show. Their respective inner conflicts are frighteningly well written, and I loved seeing them (trauma) bond and help each other grow in the most unexpected ways throughout all the wild trials and tribulations that they had to endure. Dillon is not afraid to go down some very dark paths, and the brutally raw exploration of trauma, grief, depression, addiction, morality, the lingering horrors of war, and the insidious influence and devastating cost of vengeance added so much impact and emotional weight to this wickedly epic tale.

But if I am being honest, it was Merin and Dullo who just captured my heart the most with their surprisingly warm personalities and incredibly intriguing backstories, and I would honestly kill for them to get their own spin-off. Now, the rest of the primary and secondary cast maybe paled a bit in comparison to these four powerhouses for me, and I have to admit I didn’t totally believe the development of some interpersonal relationships (especially in the romance department). However, I was somehow still hooked by each storyline, and I really appreciated how Dillon was able to build up the tension and stakes as everyone’s hidden intentions became clearer and their paths started to converge on a collision course of doom and destruction.

If it wasn’t already clear, Mercy: Tears of the Fallen is not exactly a fun, easy breezy read, even if I personally ended up absolutely tearing through the pages. This is a story that challenges the reader, be that because of its unconventional structure, its ‘sink or swim’ storytelling or its heavy content, but I personally think it is a very rewarding read for those who show patience, trust the process and give it the attention it deserves. Sure, the direction of the plot could have been a bit clearer from the start, and sure, the introduction to this epic world with its deep history, rich lore, intricate magic, and many different factions, races and cultures could probably have been a bit smoother to make for a more comfortable reading experience, but as The Archivist so wisely says at the end of the book: “Cheers to danger. Cheers to pain. For without resistance, how do we grow?”.

In a way, Mercy: Tears of the Fallen almost feels like a long, extended prologue to the rest of the Mercy series, but don’t mistake that for me saying that it’s unsatisfying. Especially in the second half of the novel, Dillon just struck the perfect balance between the action, world building and character development for me, and I was deeply impressed with the satisfying convergence of all the different threads being spun in both this book and the prequel short story The Blood Rebellion (which I highly recommend checking out for free on Dillon’s Patreon, both because it might provide some helpful context for the history and magic system, but also because it’s just a banger of a story). Each new shocking revelation and diabolical twist and turn instantly prompted dozens of new burning questions that I desperately need answers to, and the tragically gut wrenching and ominously enticing ending has me desperate for the next instalment already.

There’s no denying that Chance Dillon has taken a huge chance (yes, pun very much intended) by writing such an insanely ambitious debut, but he has already more than proven to me that his ambition was not misplaced. This is one of those richly layered stories that I can see myself coming back to time and time again because of its high re-read value, and I am honestly beyond excited for anything and everything that is yet to come in the Mercy series as I have full faith that Dillon will continue to deliver on all the promising potential here. So, if you like the sound of a truly epic fantasy tale with a strong emotional core that just throws you into the deep end and forces you to either learn to breathe underwater or die trying, then you simply have to give Mercy: Tears of the Fallen a chance.

Thank you to the author for providing me with an eARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own. Mercy: Tears of the Fallen is scheduled for release on July 20th, 2025.

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REVIEW: The Lie That Binds Them by Matthew Ward

Last Updated on May 15, 2025

Matthew Wards wraps up The Soulfire Saga with an expansive and explosive ending in The Lie That Binds Them. Ward pulls back the veil on his world for some epic twists and reveals, while our favourite characters hold on to hope by their shredded fingernails.

Tyzantia, the last of the free cities is about to fall to the Eternity Queen, and Kat Must flee upon the last rail runner.

Mirzai is the governor of a frontier town, and also the engineer keeping its crumbling infrastructure ticking over. When a redcloak dhow lands with a damaged buoyancy tank, his carefully cultivated peace with the people the redcloaks came to kill puts he and his people in danger.

With the rubble of one city behind him, the Eternity Queen tasks Damant and her council with bringing another of the cities of Kahalad back into the fold. As he turns to leave, the being closest to a goddess in this life, young and powerful, collapses.

As with The Fire Within Them, I enjoyed Ward pulling back the curtains on the wider world he’s created to advance the story. The characters fight and connive and claw their way to survival in the hope of finding a way to defeat the Eternity Queen, all while trying not to become who they fight against. The Eternity Queen is a worthy foe, with plenty of weight behind her character to make sure we don’t get a black and white cardboard cut out. The ending twist to set up the climax was excellent, far-reaching, and eye opening—exactly what you hope for when at the end of a trilogy of doorstoppers.

Ward is a master of building a story that sends you and the cast into the depths of despair—where hope is lost and desperate stakes are all that’s left—and then bringing home an action packed finale. His ability to construct long form story arcs in trilogies across what I can only assume must be over 750,000 words showcased in this trilogy and the Legacy trilogy makes it obvious why Orbit continues to publish these beasts.

From the perspective of what a grimdark fan would like, while this book did lean heavily on helplessness and hopelessness, I don’t think it was as far in our wheelhouse as the previous trilogy. The Lie That Binds Them sits more firmly in the epic dark fantasy genre. Definitely plenty of darkness to get your teeth in to, but not as much moral greyness as I enjoyed in Ward’s previous trilogy.

Swirlingly epic, dark, and at times gut punching sad, The Lie That Binds Them is the epic dark fantasy you need in your life.

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The Lie That Binds Them by Matthew Ward

Matthew Wards wraps up The Soulfire Saga with an expansive and explosive ending in The Lie That Binds Them. Ward pulls back the veil on his world for some epic twists and reveals, while our favourite characters hold on to hope by their shredded fingernails.

Tyzantia, the last of the free cities is about to fall to the Eternity Queen, and Kat Must flee upon the last rail runner.

Mirzai is the governor of a frontier town, and also the engineer keeping its crumbling infrastructure ticking over. When a redcloak dhow lands with a damaged buoyancy tank, his carefully cultivated peace with the people the redcloaks came to kill puts he and his people in danger.

With the rubble of one city behind him, the Eternity Queen tasks Damant and her council with bringing another of the cities of Kahalad back into the fold. As he turns to leave, the being closest to a goddess in this life, young and powerful, collapses.

As with The Fire Within Them, I enjoyed Ward pulling back the curtains on the wider world he’s created to advance the story. The characters fight and connive and claw their way to survival in the hope of finding a way to defeat the Eternity Queen, all while trying not to become who they fight against. The Eternity Queen is a worthy foe, with plenty of weight behind her character to make sure we don’t get a black and white cardboard cut out. The ending twist to set up the climax was excellent, far-reaching, and eye opening—exactly what you hope for when at the end of a trilogy of doorstoppers.

Ward is a master of building a story that sends you and the cast into the depths of despair—where hope is lost and desperate stakes are all that’s left—and then bringing home an action packed finale. His ability to construct long form story arcs in trilogies across what I can only assume must be over 750,000 words showcased in this trilogy and the Legacy trilogy makes it obvious why Orbit continues to publish these beasts.

From the perspective of what a grimdark fan would like, while this book did lean heavily on helplessness and hopelessness, I don’t think it was as far in our wheelhouse as the previous trilogy. The Lie That Binds Them sits more firmly in the epic dark fantasy genre. Definitely plenty of darkness to get your teeth in to, but not as much moral greyness as I enjoyed in Ward’s previous trilogy.

Swirlingly epic, dark, and at times gut punching sad, The Lie That Binds Them is the epic dark fantasy you need in your life.

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REVIEW: Clown in a Cornfield

Clown in a Cornfield is a 2025 slasher film directed by Eli Craig (Tucker & Dale vs Evil). The main protagonists are Quinn Maybrook, played by Katie Douglas, and her father, Dr Maybrook, played by Aaron Abrams. The Maybrooks have relocated following the death of Quinn’s mother. It is set in modern day Missouri and, as you might expect, it involves a clown and a cornfield. We are introduced to Frendo the Clown in a murderous cold open (a slasher classic) set decades before the main story. Overall, it is humorous, sufficiently bloody and has a catchy soundtrack.

Like many slashers, the story in Clown in a Cornfield follows a group of conventionally attractive young people. Quinn (Douglas), new in town, makes friends with some delinquents at her high school, despite several people in town telling her to avoid them. The group is made up of Cole (handsome badboy), Janet and Ronnie (bitchy popular girls), and Tucker and Matt (pranksters). Some of the more amusing moments in the movie involve Janet and Ronnie, particularly a scene involving a severed head. A few mildly familiar faces turn up around the town, in particular Kevin Durand as the Mayor and Will Sasso as the Sheriff. I was not familiar with any of the young actors prior to Clown in a Cornfield, but they all played their roles. I look forward to seeing Kate Douglas get some chances in the future.

Eli Craig’s previous two feature films were firmly in horror/comedy territory. (As an aside, I love Tucker & Dale vs Evil.) Clown in a Cornfield is, at its heart, a slasher but it is full of well-timed humour (I legitimately laughed out loud at times) and is firmly tongue-in-cheek. If you prefer your slashers mean, you might want to look elsewhere.

Clown in a Cornfield isn’t a deep film; it doesn’t try to say too much. The motivation behind the killings is a bit of a caricature. It’s hard to imagine it playing out in the real world. However, it is notable how modern the film feels, with repeated use of cruel pranks being recorded and the threat of recordings for bullying purposes (reminds me a bit of Talk to Me).

Now, the violence. Personally, I think the best slashers are when we get to know the core group before they proceed to get murdered one-by-one. Clown in a Cornfield gives us some of that, with Quinn and her friends causing a bit of trouble around town before things go off the rails. Unfortunately, some are given more opportunity than others, and some are a bit two dimensional for my liking. But my biggest complaint is that Frendo doesn’t kill enough people. The film has blood for sure (albeit mostly digital), but give the people what they want: more Frendo!

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REVIEW: The Tainted Khan by Taran Matharu

Taran Matharu returns for the second instalment in his Soulbound Saga, The Tainted Khan. Picking up almost immediately from where Dragon Rider left off, The Tainted Khan is sure to be a hit for epic fantasy fans. It has magic, politics, a quest for freedom, and, most importantly, dragons. The Tainted Khan is only the second of Matharu’s novels I have read, and even though this is a new fantasy world, it is so easy to step into and get lost in the story. It feels like I’m reading an old favourite, even though I’m not, and I can’t wait for what Matharu has in store for the next Soulbound novel.

The reader continues to follow Jai, the last remaining son of Rohan, the former Great Khan. Jai is soulbound to a dragon, Winter, and he dreams that together they will free his people from the yoke of the cruel Sabine Empire. But Jai started The Tainted Khan lost in the grasslands of the Great Steppe and quickly ends up captured by a clan of outcasts, the Tainted, enemies of his people. Jai is not quite as naïve as he was in the first novel, but in the eyes of the Sithians who live in the Great Steppe, he is still a boy – untested and unlikely to be seen as fit to lead his own clan, let alone all of them. Jai is running out of time to prove himself; the Sabine legion is on the move, destroying everything in their path.

I enjoyed my time reading The Tainted Khan. But this isn’t a particularly dark book, even less so than Dragon Rider was. There are a few gory parts and some excellent fight scenes towards the end of the novel, but overall, this is very much an epic fantasy novel rather than a dark fantasy one. The focus of this book is not an escape from slavery or a journey against the odds; in The Tainted Khan, it is all about Jai developing his magical and leadership skills to lead his people. He doesn’t have the luxury of years to finesse these talents, which gives the reader an underlying sense of urgency as Jai treks through the Great Steppe. It did make The Tainted Khan read a little like a bridging novel, but that is true of many second books, and that doesn’t mean it was a bad read. It wasn’t as action-packed as its predecessor. Still, it has set the reader up for a cracking third book, especially after the unexpected cliffhanger that Matharu left the novel on.

As with all second books, the reader should have read Dragon Rider before picking this up, and there is no recap or summary at the beginning of The Tainted Khan. But the action for this novel takes place in a new geographical location, and most of the characters are new, so I think the events of the first novel are more relevant as character development and worldbuilding in general, rather than giving us information essential to understanding what is going on in The Tainted Khan. I thought Matharu’s pacing was superb, the chapters weren’t overly long, and even the slower sections of the novel didn’t feel like they were dragging. I also really enjoyed Matharu’s descriptions of the grasslands of the Great Steppe, its terrain, vegetation, animals, and how the people move through them. It all felt real, and I was immersed in that journey.

The Tainted Khan is a good character-driven epic fantasy, and I enjoy Taran Matharu’s writing style. It works well for me, and I am excited to see where he takes the story in the next Soulbound Saga novel. Thank you very much to Taran Matharu and the team at Harper Voyager for sending Grimdark Magazine an ARC of The Tainted Khan.

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REVIEW: Dance of Shadows by Gourav Mohanty

Epic fantasy fans, rejoice! Gourav Mohanty marches back to the world of Aryavrat in Dance of Shadows, the second book in his impressive debut series, The Raag of Rta. If you haven’t read Sons of Darkness yet, I highly recommend it. The series is uniquely based on the Mahabharata, an Indian Vedic epic poem, and this book pulls even more from the deep, deep well of Indian history. It builds on the first book’s strengths, shores up weaknesses, and stretches into new territory, too. 

Instead of a sequel, Dance of Shadows is a parallel story to Sons of Darkness, taking place in the months between the bloody massacre at Princess Draupadi’s Swayamyar and Krishna’s defeat at the battle of Mathura. I was skeptical, but now I see its necessity. The world, plot, and characters were stretched thin at the end of the first book. This book put more meat on their bones, and introduced characters and background information integral to setting up the final conflict. Now there’s even more momentum going into the series finale, and I ended up enjoying this book even more than the first. 

I love the vivid, nuanced voices in this series. From the jump, I hear them like they’re sitting across from me, sharing a drink, or pressing a knife to my throat. Mati, Karna, and Nala return (luckily my favorites from book one), and the new cast of characters are again strongly characterized: Dantavakra, the rakish younger brother of Shishupel; Marzana, a cunning priestess; and Vahura, a booksmart princess sleuthing out forbidden knowledge to save her sister (and the realm). 

The characters are mostly on the move, which kept a refreshing pace, and between the plots in the Rakshasan Tree City, Magadh, Marzana’s temple, and Nala’s bloody journey with Parshuram, Dance of Shadows illuminated some big questions: what’s the deal with the Unni Ethral death priests? Why did Kalyavan and Bhagadatt betray the emperor to attack Krishna? Who really is the Son of Darkness? By the end, my investment in the first book was totally worth it, with plenty answered and more to chew on. 

The first half of Dance of Shadows is more densely plotted than Sons of Darkness—lore drops, desperate choices, and plot twists galore. There were a few narrative deserts in the first book while the different factions plotted, talked, and plotted. This book is more of a jungle, exploring the lush, dangerous world behind all the spider webs spun in the first book. There’s less politics and more worldbuilding, action, and smaller, intimate storylines while characters machete their way through impossible choices. The stakes are still high, and I lost sleep on many “one more chapter” nights. 

The back half of the book has several extended plot sequences. Mohanty sometimes departed from his bread-and-butter political web spinning and dipped his toe into horror, heist and adventure writing. I overall enjoyed the rollicking mix of genres. A new author, testing his range, and relishing the joy of exploration is a big thumbs-up from me, although they weren’t the strongest sections and spread the character development a bit thin. They may fall flat for other readers, but I was here for it. 

A theme in Dance of Shadows is characters being blackmailed, backed into corners, and forced into impossible decisions. Do they follow their heart? Or sacrifice others to protect themselves? The most compelling tensions, heartbreaks and explosive scenes came when characters chose one or the other, often in surprising–or gruesome–moments of character development. I especially enjoyed Marzana’s story. She’s brilliant, streetsmart, conflicted, and the language in her chapters was often achingly moving. Her and Karna’s perilous romance added a lovely, treacherous flavor. One of my biggest pet peeves is when a romance isn’t believable, and I bought into theirs right away. 

One disappointment is a compliment mixed with a critique. The characters are distinct, complicated and entertaining. Mohanty creates exciting foundations for potential character arcs, with textured expositions for the new characters, and then… what’s the literary equivalent of feeling like you’re about to sneeze? They’re all really good characters, but I kept feeling they were just verging on great. Karna’s new Incredible Hulk-esque dual nature, Nala and Masha’s burgeoning romance, and Dantavakra’s maturation were a few arcs that got lost in the plot and were missed opportunities to me. 

Dance of Shadows isn’t drowning in blood, but it is violent–when it is, you better not be squeamish. Mohanty’s talent for visceral, gut-wrenching imagery (which I wish he used more consistently for immersive descriptions of setting) made my face contort into new, exciting expressions of horrified awe. However, for my storytelling tastes, the jarring Mortal Kombat-style fatalities, one which was truly, truly gruesome, obliterated the emotional resonance that makes character deaths powerful plot devices for me. In this book, horror trumped heartbreak. Regardless, these scenes will make even our grimmest grimdark readers grimace. 

I’m most curious about the female character arcs going forward. By the end of Dance of Shadows, the remaining female characters are primarily motivated by revenge. On one hand, I worry this will reduce their characters to one-dimensional arrows flying towards the hearts of their enemies. On the other hand, the story could complicate the notion of revenge and the characters’ relationship to their vengeance. For example, Nala has a fascinating tension. She must unlock her chakras to unleash their power to take revenge, but in order to unlock them she needs to find acceptance and release her anger—what then will happen to her motivation for revenge? Hopefully the third book capitalizes on these nuanced story opportunities. 

Overall, Dance of Shadows was another win for me. Not a masterpiece, but a solid entry into the annals of epic fantasy, and I suspect this young author may write some masterpieces down the line. But Gourav… please give me more chakra magic in the third book. I’m begging you. Go crazy. I’ve been so patient. 

Shoutout to Micaela Alcaino for the cover art! 

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REVIEW: Parasitic Omens by Jessica A. McMinn

Okay, I don’t know what I was expecting from a gaslamp fantasy horror novella pitched as Supernatural meets The Witcher meets Bloodborne, but Jessica A. McMinn truly surprised me in all the best ways with Parasitic Omens. It’s unapologetically dark, gruesome and gory, and it packs a way bigger punch than its deceptively short page count might suggest. Talk about a brutal emotional rollercoaster!

Through the eyes of jaded investigator Lawrence Reed, we are drawn into the gritty world of Dallalmar, where fae, vampires, werewolves, warlocks and witches lurk around every dark corner. He thought he had seen it all on his job, but when his latest assignment into the creepy Taschenwilde woods leads him to the corpse of a mutilated girl which is inhabited by a monstrous creature, his entire worldview starts to shatter. Law will stop at nothing to unravel the mystery of the girl’s death, but the more hidden truths he uncovers, the more the lines between monster and man start to blur, and soon he might wish he had stayed blissfully ignorant and in the dark after all.

Now, the opening of Parasitic Omens reminded me heavily of Krystle Matar’s Legacy of the Brightwash (which just so happens to be one of my all-time favourite books), so safe to say that we were off to a strong start. McMinn honestly does a masterful job of setting the scene, and the eerie atmosphere combined with the irresistible air of mystery and intrigue had me locked in from page one.

Although Lawrence didn’t immediately pop off the page for me as a protagonist here, I honestly loved going on this increasingly wild and horrifying investigation with him. The way that McMinn built up the tension and looming sense of dread as Law discovered new and ever more disturbing clues had me glued to the page, and all the shocking twists, turns and revelations were absolutely diabolical in the best way possible.

I mean, I knew from reading McMinn’s works in the Gardens of War and Wastelands series that she is not afraid to go dark, but Parasitic Omens really goes to the next level. Be it the gruesome body horror, the terrifying creatures, or the sheer depravity of humanity; this story just pulls zero punches, and I was so here for it. Themes of religious zealotry, cultism, child abuse, and the ironic injustice of the justice system are all explored with unflinching honesty, which is exactly what makes this novella hit so hard.

Moreover, I loved how McMinn made this vast and darkly alluring world come to life despite the limited scope of the novella with its intimate setting of Coppertown (including the legendary Dripping Bucket Inn), and I think it is nothing short of masterful how much rich world building was packed into so few pages. Especially the rich creature lore and the strong presence of the divine were morbidly fascinating to me, and the enticingly ominous ending has me more than eager to return to this world for more in the upcoming full novels in the Gods of Dallalmar series. Also, I desperately need more of my enigmatic girl Cait, so there’s that.

Parasitic Omens is one of those stories that just creeps under your skin and leaves you wanting more in the best way possible. If you like your fantasy with a good dose of paranormal and horror vibes mixed in, then I can’t recommend this little gem highly enough. It might be a short read, but it will absolutely leave its mark on you, whether you like it or not.

Thank you to the author for providing me with an eARC in exchange for an honest review. All opinions are my own. Parasitic Omens is scheduled for release on May 27th, 2025. 

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REVIEW: Rose/House by Arkady Martine

Rose/House was originally published in 2023, and the recent Tordotcom reprint brings new cover art to this novella by Arkady Martine, author of the award-winning Teixcalaan duology. Rose/House is a dystopian-tinged, sci-fi mystery that ushers you through the story of an unexpected corpse within Rose House; itself an AI-infused building designed by man who, upon his death, had himself compressed into a diamond and displayed at the heart of the house.

The story revolves around a small cast of characters in a future where, seemingly, anything that could be AI, is. In Martine’s world, this means animate intelligence and they can be found everywhere: houses can be AI, police precincts, cities, and utilities systems can all be AI. However, not all AI is created equally and Rose House was designed by infamous architect Basit Deniau who created the most sophisticated animate intelligences imbued into the very structure of his houses. Rose House is the pinnacle of his success and only one person is allowed access to it, once a year, for a total of seven days – Dr. Selene Gisil.

Gisil is Deniau’s reluctant guardian and archivist who may enter Rose House and study the wealth of information left behind after his death – and subsequent diamondification. She’s not best pleased with the situation and when the local police call her, she’s quietly hoping it’s to notify her that the house has burnt down. No such luck. Instead there’s an extra dead body turned up inside and no one can get in to investigate.

Upon returning to China Lake (where Rose House is situated), Gisil meets detectives Maritza Smith and Oliver Torres, who escort her up to Rose House to assist with the investigation. Maritza took the creepy death notification call from Rose House and is determined to get inside and solve the case. Life as a detective hasn’t turned out the way she hoped and the first whiff of intrigue has her hooked.

Once Gisil and Maritza enter Rose House, the creep-factor ratchets up a notch or two. Rose/House is almost hallucinatory in its telling, feeling as labyrinthine as the eponymous house itself. There are twists and turns that don’t necessarily seem to lead anywhere, just like the interior of the animate house, and as Maritza tries to unravel the mystery of the additional dead man, she starts to feel as if she’s being infected by the bizarre AI house.

Rose/House is a snapshot into a bleak future where people are carjacked for their water rations while crazy rich people build mind bending intelligent houses in the desert. Each character’s POV sections read and feel different; Rose House is cold and off-putting, like the uncanny valley effect in prose; while Maritza is determined, Torres is much warmer but content to pass Rose House off up the chain.

Overall, the novella has the feel of literary fiction woven through it and, while I appreciate the clever way Martine has layered this tale together, it isn’t entirely my thing. It is excellently written, for sure, and there’s plenty of darkness within for you to extrapolate beyond the obvious moral flexibility of Rose House. If you fancy a futuristic take on a haunted house that could be depressingly prescient, Rose/House is waiting for you.

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REVIEW: Conan the Barbarian #19

Two years have passed since Conan’s ill-fated heist with the unreliable thief Tarnasha. He and his pirate queen Bêlit terrorized the high seas, but their journey together has come to an end. Bêlit and her crew is dead (a story originally related in the 1934 Weird Tales story “Queen of the Black Coast”), the beached vessel The Tigress serving as their funeral pyre. Conan finds himself alone in the hostile jungles of the Black Kingdoms. He is left little time to grieve, however, as danger lurks behind every primeval tree. Hornets nearly chase him into the waiting maw of a crocodile, and the human life he encounters is nearly as unfriendly. Suspicious villagers rebuff his attempt to barter for water and directions, flatly stating that he brings danger and is tainted by death. Forced back into the jungle, Conan is stalked by a supernatural presence, its hostility apparent but its motive unknown.

Entitled “Hunted,” this issue is listed as the third part of the Twisting Loyalties story arc that began with Conan the Barbarian #17. Interviews with series writer Jim Zub had given the impression that the previous two issues with artist Danica Brine would comprise a two-part storyline, with this issue and next making a second two-parter with Doug Braithwaite handling art, but the Part III suggest more of a connection than is apparent just yet. Conan’s present jungle survival saga is separated by a significant amount of both time and distance from the events of issue #18, but more than enough unresolved plot threads remain to complicate his current situation.

While I haven’t always been the biggest booster of Doug Braithwaite’s artwork—I find his female characters insufficiently alluring compared to Zub’s breathless prose descriptions, and his depictions of young Conan look prematurely aged—this issue finds Braithwaite firmly in his element. Bereaved and beset, his barbarian looks appropriately haggard. The relentless animal attack scenes also play to Braithwaite’s strengths. And while background art is often overlooked, the dense jungles of the Black Kingdoms looks fantastic here. Diego Rodriguez also deserves special mention for the fine color work. Not only is he working with a vivid, vibrant palette, but his colors effectively communicate the temperature of every scene, from steamy heat to midnight chill.

While I won’t reveal his identity, this issue reintroduces a supporting character created by Roy Thomas in a 1978 issue of the original Marvel Comics Conan the Barbarian. While my memories of this character were foggy, in his essay Jeffrey Shanks helpfully gives readers a detailed profile. Throughout his run on Titan Comics’ Conan the Barbarian, Zub has both proven himself loyal to Conan creator Robert E. Howard’s legacy while simultaneously demonstrating an eagerness to draw inspiration from post-Howard adaptations. Sometimes these references appear as visual Easter Eggs (like the Atlantean Sword first introduced in the 1982 John Milius film), other times in a more involved fashion. Here we have a non-Howard character that originated in a comic book, but he’s being used in a novel way: where originally he journeyed alongside Conan and Bêlit, here his first encounter with the barbarian is after Bêlit’s death. This sort of remixing is commonplace in superhero comics, but it’s fun to see Zub embrace the entirety of the Conan mythos.

The end of the issue suggests that plot threads introduced in previous issues will become more prominent in Conan the Barbarian #20, but issue #19 is a sleek survival tale that features some of Doug Braithwaite’s best artwork on the title to date.

Read Conan the Barbarian #19 by Jim Zub (W) and Doug Braithwaite (A)

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INTERVIEW: Joe Abercrombie

Joe Abercrombie is a celebrated British fantasy author known for his sharp wit and darkly humorous storytelling. He’s particularly skilled at bringing morally ambiguous characters to life—characters filled with cynicism, depth, and a touch of humor that makes them unforgettable. Often called one of the pioneers of grimdark fantasy, Abercrombie has captivated readers worldwide with his acclaimed First Law trilogy, which includes The Blade Itself, Before They Are Hanged, and The Last Argument of Kings, as well as compelling standalone novels like Best Served Cold and Red Country. With his work translated into many languages, Joe has undeniably made his mark as an influential voice in modern fantasy. It’s a genuine pleasure to chat with him today about his writing, storytelling, and his latest novel, The Devils.

[GdM] Your characters often navigate the fine line between hero and villain. Do you see them as reflections of reality, where no one is purely good or evil? Or do you just enjoy making your readers question their moral compass?

[JA] I guess a lot of the fantasy I read as a kid was very much in the shadow of Tolkien, and in Lord of the Rings there is an objective right and wrong. You either give in to Sauron or you fight him, and the text leaves no doubt which is good and which evil. Not that I ever lost interest in Gandalf and Aragorn but as the years went on I started to find Saruman and Boromir more interesting. People who fall from grace, or rise to it. Characters in flux, in turmoil, weighing greater good against personal good, with mixed motives, with uncertain outcomes. People who surprise the reader. In our world, everyone thinks they’re in the right. Battles aren’t of good against evil, but one man’s good against another’s.

[GdM] Your writing has been called cynical, but there always seems to be a single ray of reluctant hope shining on the ugly and dark. Do you think of yourself as a cynic at heart, or is that just a symptom of writing about war, politics, and human nature?

[JA] I don’t know that I’m a massive cynic at heart but certainly I’ve always been interested in the contrast between the kind of warfare, politics and human nature which we often witness in real life, and the heroic version on display in a lot of epic fantasy. I think a black and white view of the world is great for entertainment but it can be dangerous in reality. A little cynicism to sit alongside it is a healthy thing.

[GdM] Violence in your books is visceral, unromantic, and often has lasting consequences. What draws you to portraying it in such an unflinching way?

[JA] For me good writing is about putting the reader in the scene, experiencing it along with the characters. I think actual violence is visceral, unromantic, and has lasting consequences, for the victims and perpetrators both. Violent men, after all, are rarely the nicest people to know. As a reader the last thing I want is to feel entirely safe—that I know already who’ll come out on top and how.

[GdM] Have you ever written a scene that was so dark or brutal that you had to step away and take a break, leaving you unnerved that you came up with? Or do you relish putting your characters (and readers) through the wringer?

[JA] Scenes that come as a shock to a reader, that they might spend ten minutes with, the writer spends a lot of time thinking about. You plan it, you draft it over the course of days, you come back to it and rewrite it, reshape it, edit it, over and over, in an effort to create exactly the effect you want and make the maximum impact. I think the aim of a book is to get a strong response out of the reader, and the characters are really tools with which to do that. So there’s not much point pulling your punches.

[GdM] Can you tell us about your upcoming book, The Devils?

[JA] It’s one of those books about a group of monsters, including an oversexed werewolf, an overconfident magician, a geriatric vampire, an invisible elf, and a knight cursed with immortality, led by a monk who never even wanted to be a monk on a fool’s errand to install a thief on the throne of Troy on behalf of the Pope who’s a ten year old girl.

[GdM] After spending years in The First Law universe, what challenges and freedoms did you encounter while crafting a new world in The Devils?

[JA] It’s great to have all that well-established background, old characters and events to draw on writing a First Law book, but it’s also a lot of load to carry, a lot of things to get right, a lot of text to check. And a lot of expectation from readers who want a continuation of this plotline or that, a payoff of one kind or another. There’s definitely freedom in starting something entirely new, especially something that’s meant to be episodic and not especially coherent. I hardly dare say the word fun, but that was what I was after.

[GdM] You mentioned calling the world of The Devils an “alternate history is being too dignified about it.” It is the “stupid version of our world.” How fun was that to write? Did you seek out specific historical events to subvert, or was it throw whatever ideas came to you and see what stuck to the proverbial wall?

Author Joe Abercrombie

[JA] New books are always fun for a while—the glory of new possibilities, the experimenting with new characters, but I find about a quarter of the way through they start to become work again. Then it’s the long grind through a draft, often while cursing god and wishing for ragnarok and pronouncing your career over to anyone who’ll listen, and it’s only towards the end that you start to get the enjoyment back. Then the editing and revising, seeing it all come together is where the fun is. I’ve always been a more character than world-focused writer, and the idea with the Devils was really to make the world as vague and ill considered as possible. This is the opposite of punctilious world-building with lists of dates and carefully drawn maps. I want the world to feel like a vague fever dream against which the characters and events explode with double the impact…

[GdM] You’ve mentioned a conscious effort to include more female perspectives in your work. How did this intention manifest in The Devils, and how does it impact the story?

[JA] The First Law trilogy was very male focused, for sure. I’m proud of the female characters in it but there aren’t many of ’em. There’s nothing wrong with writing about men, and as a man it’s the automatic option, but in general I don’t see much downside to more variety in the cast—different attitudes, different struggles, different types of relationships. It just helps a world feel more vivid, and lived-in, and well, real. The real world’s got lots of women in it, after all. As did the medieval world. Often doing strange, unexpected, interesting things. What happens if you put a woman in the kind of role where you might expect, default, a man? So in the case of The Devils I made the Saviour figure a woman. Female Saviour, therefore female priesthood, female Machiavellian cardinals, ten year old girl for a Pope. The central cast is pretty evenly split and because they’re, you know, actual monsters, you get all types. There are some classically feminine women, like courtier par excellence Lady Severa, but also in some ways some very masculine ones, like explosively violent and aggressively sexual werewolf Vigga. There are some very masculine men, like grizzled warrior Jakob of Thorn, as well as some quite feminine ones, like cloistered monk Brother Diaz. For me it just makes for a richer and more varied tapestry.

[GdM] The Devils is noted for its dark humor, as is most of your work. How did you balance comedic elements and the grim aspects of the narrative?

[JA] I don’t know that it needs much balancing. My approach has always been that there’s never a bad time to be funny, and there’s never a bad time to be horrifying. Often the two work best right up against each other, in the very same scene. Like light and shadow in a painting, they only intensify each other. As you edit and revise you obviously refine things to give a scene the tone you want, but often that’s just about judgement and timing and cutting stuff down to make it as impactful as possible. Very rarely would I think—hmmm, I need to make this scene less funny. Who wants that?

[GdM] The Devils feature characters reminiscent of classic horror figures like vampires, werewolves, and elves. What drew you to integrate these archetypes into your story, and how did you approach making them unique to your world?

[JA] People often celebrate originality as some kind of absolute good but I’ve always felt a little of it goes a very long way. I’ve always loved stories like Unforgiven, which takes a new look at some very classic, beloved genre, and serves as both a great example of the form and a comment on the form at the same time. That was really the approach to fantasy I took with The First Law. So with the Devils, which obviously has some horror elements to it, centred on a group of monsters, I wanted to include the classics. Suave vampire, uncontrollable werewolf, sneering magician. These things become archetypes because they work. It’s all in the application, really.

[GdM] Which of the main characters—Vigga, Sunny, Barron, Rikard, Balthazar, Jacob, or Baptiste—did you have the most fun writing? Which was the most challenging?

[JA] Well they all offer different challenges and serve different purposes. It’s like the ingredients in a cake—the project doesn’t work without all the elements. But I generally find characters with a very strong but quite one-noted personality, who often don’t carry a lot of the plot on their shoulders, are easy to write, while those who are more at the heart of things and therefore steer the plot and perhaps change over time themselves are more of a challenge. So Vigga was a lot of fun to write, for sure. But then she works because of the contrasts with and the interactions with the others. You need some more ‘normal’ people for her to knock against. And kill.

[GdM] If you, our liege and Lord Grimdark, could bestow an honorary title of Duke/Duchess of Grimdark to another writer, whom would it be and why?

[JA] Oh, titles such as that can never be bestowed, only won for oneself, preferably standing atop a mountain of skulls.

[GdM] Who would you choose if you could collaborate with any author, living or dead? What kind of book would you write together?

[JA] I work quite a lot in the film and tv world these days, and those projects are by nature a collaboration with a whole ensemble of different talented people of one kind or another. There’s a lot of reward in that way of working. Lots to learn, lots of ideas to absorb, and it’s sometimes great to be part of something bigger. But I think that work satisfies my need for collaboration, and there are frustrations too. It’s sometimes great to have the final say, and not have to make compromises. So though I love working with editors, fiction writing for me is really quite a personal thing—can’t imagine doing it with someone else. Although obviously a dead writer wouldn’t offer much criticism…

This interview was first published in Grimdark Magazine Issue #42

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