Adrian Collins's Blog, page 228

REVIEW: Smoke in the Glass by Chris Humphreys

Who wants to live forever? Smoke in the Glass, historical fiction writer Chris Humphreys’ first foray into adult fantasy, is a tale of four worlds where a lucky few are blessed with immortality. While these immortals rule as gods or eternal noblemen in three of the four, none realize that their ‘worlds’ are a single land, separated only by towering mountains and fathomless seas. And for the first time since the dawn of history, someone is crossing these boundaries to hunt immortals and bring death to the deathless.

Smoke in the Glass is primarily told through a trio of third person narrators–each from a separate world–with occasional forays into the minds of side characters. In Corinthium, a land with a Greco-Roman feel, readers follow Ferros, a soldier deciding if his recent immortal rebirth is a gift or a curse. Across the sea, the mesoamerican-esque island of Ometepe is ruled by an immortal god-king who’s preserved power by slaughtering his fellow immortals (decapitation and fire causing permanent death) as well as his own sons. His favored (and newly, tragically pregnant) wife Atisha acts as the primary POV character in this land. On the other side of the map, frozen Midgarth is home to a Norse-inspired culture of warrior-god immortals and our third protagonist (and my favorite of the three), Luck. While Luck is afflicted by scoliosis and a clubbed foot, his keen mind and ready wit make him the first to catch onto the immortal-killing conspiracy and track the killers across worlds.

While this book almost feels like three separate novels at first, the author does a great job of gradually weaving their common threads together into an intricately cohesive narrative. Although the primary plots move a little slowly at first, intriguing worldbuilding (a little more on that in the next paragraph) and the trio of engaging characters was enough to keep me invested through the early chapters. While there is a fairly large cast beyond the primary POV characters, I never had any issues keeping them straight. Their distinct traits (and three separate settings) made them easy to distinguish, and the author included a helpful dramatis personae in the front of the book just in case. If there’s one thing Humphreys excels at, it’s dropping little mysteries to keep the pages turning. Who’s killing immortals and why? What do Ferros’s fellow eternals want from a simple soldier like him? Why are the mysterious black-eyed priests so interested in Atisha’s child? The author does a great job of building reader curiosity and then rewarding it with solid answers.

On the whole, one of the aspects I appreciate most about this book is the way Humphreys thinks through the implications of the more fantastical elements of his setting. Corinthium, for example, isn’t just a carbon copy of ancient Greece with a few immortals tossed into the mix—it’s a place that’s been fundamentally and convincingly altered by five hundred years of immortal rule. The undying make up an elite class, swiftly gaining military rank or ascending to the all-powerful Council of Lives. Desperate mortals, in an attempt to join them, form illegal suicide cults and worship a goddess of death and rebirth. It’s difficult enough for any author to craft a single world with a convincing culture, religion, people, and any of the other countless aspects that make up a secondary setting. One has to respect a writer who takes on and succeeds in the challenge of including four in a single novel.

If I had one major qualm about this book, it would concern the ending. While I enjoyed the en media res opening chapter with Ferros and a fellow soldier preparing to ambush a crew of Saphardi raiders, I was less keen on a closing that stopped smack in the middle of the action and introduced an entirely new mystery. There’s a difference between ending on a cliffhanger and dangling a reader over an open volcano until book two comes out.

Closing chapter aside, I really enjoyed this book. Smoke in the Glass isn’t pulp–Humphreys’ plot, prose, and characters give this book a sense of quality and gravity without skimping on fun and readability. If readers are in the mood for traditional fantasy with historical verisimilitude and a mythical twist, this is the novel for them. For grimdark readers in particular, certain aspects of the story (the suicide cults, a flaying or two, and a pulse-pounding duel reminiscent of Fenris the Feared and the Bloody Nine) will hold special appeal. I’d give this novel 4/5 stars, and I’ll be awaiting book two with the impatience of a man who is very much mortal.

Buy Smoke in the Glass

 

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Grimdark and Nihilism

‘Bleak’, ‘savage’, ‘nihilistic’, are words that tend to get flung around when discussing grimdark. It’s kind of in the name, really. A grimdark book ended ‘and they all lived happily ever after’ would quite possibly be in breach of the Trades Descriptions Act. I don’t think it will come as a huge spoiler to say that the Empires of Dust series doesn’t end with a group hug and the words ‘and they all lived happily ever after’. Grimdark worlds are generally bleak, savage, violent, filled with cruelty and pain and hate. ‘Life’s but a tale told by an idiot, filled with sound and fury, signifying nothing.’

But I never really think of it as ‘nihilism’. ‘Statement of the bleedin’ obvious’, more like it.

The great bleak brutal masterpieces of war literature, from The Trojan Women to War and Peace to Das Boot, are bleak because they are opposed to war. Their purpose, if I can I be so reductive, is to point out how terrible war is in the hope that someone might, you know, think a bit about that. ‘War is bad’ is hardly a radical statement – outside of heroic fantasy, when war is so often shown as morally necessary and good and without real consequence. If grimdark fantasy is particularly violent fantasy, getting down and dirty and bloodsoaked and vicious, it’s possible there’s a reason for that. Killing the evil dude might be morally necessary, even in grimdark – but it still doesn’t mean it’s anything other than awful and likely to damage everyone involved, and grimdark goes out of its way to show that.

Grim and dark is what life is. What life means. That passage in Bede when he compares a human life to a bird flying in the dark empty night, and it flies into a great feasting hall filled with noise and warmth and laughter, and then out into the empty dark again and it’s gone. People do terrible things to each other, people’s lives are blighted and broken, there is no hope for them. Children’s lives are blighted before they are even godsdamned born. Those who inflict these things triumph. Those who suffer them suffer on and on. All power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely, most people are basically horrid …. wait, what? Seriously? Who knew? The only think that shocks me when some terrible scandal breaks is that everyone seems so surprised to learn all isn’t for the best in not the best of all possible worlds.

As my mum once said: I’d like to believe in divine purpose, a benevolent god, an afterlife, yes.

A fantasy in which good endures and triumphs, the good guys are simply good is just that … a fantasy. We need morality, we need to scream out to universe that some things are an abomination against any basic notion of human decency, of course we do. But, as I’ve said before and I’m sure I’ll say again, believing in heroes is too easy. Dividing the world into good and evil and agreeing that we are on the side of good is both too easy and far, far too dangerous. A lot of very bad people have deeply and genuinely believed themselves to be on the side of the angels. It’s frighteningly easy to side into the age-old excuse that the end justify the means. And sometimes, sometimes, the terrible truth is that we’re too busy to condemn when ultimately perhaps the end did justify the horrifying means. The image of the hero striding into battle knowing that’s he’s justified in what he does, fighting for the light against the darkness, those he kills are simply evil, his sacrifices are worth the cost … it’s inspirational, yes, wonderfully so, rightly so. But read uncritically, it’s also profoundly dangerous. The truth is dirty and terrible, good people are arseholes, bad people do great noble thing. Sometimes an innocent child has to suffer and die for the greater good of the many. Sometimes there’s nothing anyone anywhere can do. In the end, deep down, we’re all walking on other’s suffering.

The world’s really not fair, no.

But understanding how brief life is, how easily all that one loves can be crushed out: with that understanding comes the desperate need to hold those things close. One fragile moment of happiness, of beauty … hold it tight to your heart and treasure it, for too soon it will be gone, all things die, all things fade, darkness comes and the light is so weak. The old lie, ‘Death or glory! Death! Death! Death!’ No: remember how fragile life is and how pointless, and cling on to life.

That thin pathetic line between rage and despair: that’s hope.

The voice screaming into the abyss: that’s hope.

Hold those you love close to you. Recognise that the world’s a cruel place.

Grimdark is that awareness. The reality of pain, the knife blade cutting in. And the determination to go on, keep on, fight on. There are no heroes, no certainty, there’s no bright shining prophecy of light. Just messed-up selfish wretched people trying to live their lives as best they can, trying to find something of love and happiness, trying to survive all the pain life brings. One single moment of beauty. One single glimpse of something good. A tiny perfect fragment in a damaged life.

Grimdark nihilism is hope, I think.

Check out The House of Sacrifice for more grimdark nihilism

Haven’t read the first two books? Crikey! Sort that out!

The post Grimdark and Nihilism appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

EXCERPT: The God King’s Legacy by Richard Nell

Richard Nell is a hugely popular self-published dark fantasy author. His Ash and Sand series, which begins with the critically acclaimed Kings of Paradise, has been a huge hit and is currently approaching 700 ratings on Goodreads with an average score of 4.3/5. Richard kindly sent us a sample chapter from The God King’s Legacy, a contestant in this year’s Self Published Fantasy Blog Off contest. I hope you all enjoy.

The God King’s Legacy

Excerpt

Richard Nell

Celeste was gone when Lamorak kicked the door and growled.

“Get up, and wake the men.”

Johann grunted but stayed in bed long enough to smell her scent on his sheets, pillows and skin, then rose to the pre-dawn gloom. After brief hesitation he packed away his apprentice robes, setting aside the lighter and more comfortable uniform of a Fort Tyne Regular. He set his inks, quills and needles on top, wrapping them in the heavy fabric before finding space for books, drawings, and finally his pistol.

When he was finished he stopped and stared at the two dark outlines of Sazeal and Amondras, both demon’s marks now etched concisely on his shaved chest.

“Are you afraid?”

Celeste had trailed the ink and tender flesh with her finger as they lay in their first post-coital glow the night before.

“The creature I mean to capture is within my strength,” Johann said, as if unconcerned, but really thinking yes, I’m terrified.

He’d felt her eyes on him, so he’d smiled. “Anyway, I could die in battle, or to one of Lamorak’s rages, and then I need not worry at all.”

She’d smiled back and drawn closer, as if for protection and comfort. But as he draped an arm around her shoulders, he’d wondered who was comforting who.

“Hurry the hell up.”

Johann jumped as Lamorak kicked the door again. He pulled the tie to close his bag, tossed it onto his back, and grasped his gun.

He found the knight fully dressed in traveling clothes outside his room, already chewing old bread and greasy chicken at the dining table. He looked up, and winked his milky eye, and Johann saw the good one was red and bleary, as if he hadn’t slept.

“First, the men, then eat your fill. You’ll need the strength.”

With a nod Johann obeyed and walked through the empty hall and corridor, using a candle to light his path. He shouted into the barracks first, then walked through counting to make sure every man roused.

“Where is Hagan?”

He found one bed empty, and knew the men well enough now to know who was missing. Hagan’s bunkmates glanced and shrugged, seemingly not concerned or interested.

“Stow your gear and muster in the courtyard. We collect water and rations and then march. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

The verbal salute rose sleepily down the line, and Johann wondered in amazement again that suddenly he was a ‘sergeant’.

God damn Scribery. God damn Lamorak.

But he smiled a little as he walked back to the courtyard, which was now dimly lit by a rising dawn. His pace slowed as his mind wandered to logistics and the journey ahead. The carts can bear most of the water, powder and shot, but perhaps I should have the men carry extra ammo.

Also he didn’t really know if they would stick to roads, or if they had to cross fields or woods. Perhaps they couldn’t even bring the damn carts at a certain point, so the men should carry most of the ammo.

Dark shapes flickered and mixed with Johann’s shadow to disturb his thoughts. He squinted and idly glanced up, then stopped walking. He saw the feet, first. Soldier’s boots, dangling beneath the swaying corpse of a young man.

The soldier still wore the blue and silver of the king, the colors more vivid next to the paleness of his dead skin. He sagged from the fort’s rampart, nailed to a wooden beam, his purple neck signaling he’d been hung, first. It was Hagan.

Johann lowered his eyes and ran inside the fort. A few servants tried to greet him with polite bows, but soon leapt aside when he said nothing and stomped past.

“Lamorak!” He wasn’t sure if he meant to warn, or accuse. The main entrance flew by unnoticed, and Johann soon stood in the guest wing with fists at his side.

He found the knight still seated, belching loudly as he drank what Johann hoped was water. Something in the knight’s eyes brought a swift and sober dose of calm, and Johann’s feet slowed as he clacked the last few steps over the tile.

“Have you seen Private Hagan, Sir?”

Lamorak set down his cup and sniffed.

“I strung him up.”

“May I ask his crime?”

The knight’s face remained frighteningly impassive.

“Private Hagan was caught last night attempting to leave the fort. He was therefore either a deserter, or a spy.”

“Was either? You don’t know which? And for this he was killed and hung on a stake like a bloody scarecrow?”

Lamorak smirked, which did not help.

“Yes, a scarecrow for traitors. Very good.”

“And you think this will be good for morale, do you? On the first morning of our march?”

“Let me worry on morale. It needn’t concern you.”

“You’re the one who made me their defacto quartermaster, their defacto sergeant. Isn’t that my bloody job?”

“Yes fine and you’re doing admirably. In fact I’d say you’re a natural, which I fully intend to say in my report. Now shut your God damn mouth, and go do your job.”

Johann straightened, feeling slapped. “I fully intend to.” He paused to regain control over his emotions, and wondered when and why the hell he’d considered anything except capturing Sazeal his job. “In future, if you’re going to hang my men without trial, I would at least like to be informed.”

“It happened quickly.” The knight rose and wiped grease from his face with a sleeve. “Besides,” he showed his yellow teeth as he met Johann’s eyes, “I came to tell you. You were…busy. I chose to let you sleep, undisturbed. Was I wrong?”

Johann swallowed as his face burned. He shook his head weakly.

“Good. Now sit and eat something, and put a big stupid grin on your face for the men. Then we march.”

* * *

Before they’d left the fort, a small wagon train with two carts and four horses had arrived and waited at the gate. Lamorak stepped out and spoke to the old, haggard looking driver with a toothpick dangling from his dry lip.

“This is Mr. Whitworth,” he’d said, after shaking the man’s hand and returning. “He’s concerned about an ambush from the Militia, so we’ll escort him and his sons on our way.’

Johann hadn’t bothered to ask any questions. He was still sore over Hagan, and in any case didn’t expect a straight answer. Now he marched in line with the men carrying his heavy arquebus on a sling, fifty pounds of gear slowly bending his back like a stalk of wheat in the wind. He squinted a glare at the unseasonally blistering spring sun, then back towards the small caravan.

Lamorak rode beside it speaking with the driver. The two men laughed like old friends, which for whatever reason wore on Johann’s nerves.

“Some kind of side deal, you figure?” The always-nosy Private Taylor had apparently noticed the direction of Johann’s eyes. “A little of the ‘king’s protection’, eh? For a few crowns?”

Johann knew he should immediately reject this. But he stared hard at the knight and decided it entirely feasible. In fact, Lamorak seemed perfectly capable of anything—whether some utterly selfless and noble deed, or something entirely base and vile.

He’s a wolf garbed in chivalry, he thought. And yet he seems loyal, and mostly on the balance good, and retains the king’s colors and trust.

How strange life was.

After a few hours of marching Johann glanced longingly at his horse, which he’d offered up to help tug supplies. The move hadn’t been entirely selfless, if he was honest, since his hatred for riding remained as strong as ever. But his hatred of marching grew by the moment.

Finished at last with his fits of coughing and laughing next to his new merchant friend, Lamorak clicked his warhorse forward to walk near Johann at the front of the men. He spoke loudly.

“So can the wench still walk this morning? Or will she need the day to recover?”

The men glanced at each other, a few smirks forming on confused faces. Johann’s mind seemed to blank entirely, his legs only marching from sheer, monotonous practice.

He makes it public? Now? And dares to call her ladyship wench?

He felt his hand twitch, as if in some madness seeking his gun.

“Oh leave off, brother. The serving wench, whoever she was. You can tell us.”

Lamorak raised a conspiratorial brow, and seemed to mistake Johann’s blinding rage for something coy. He raised his voice so more men could hear.

“Twenty years of untapped lust in a tower. Last night I expect our scribe here broke the poor girl in half.”

The men raised a general roar of approval, and Johann bore the few backslaps and shoulder shakes because he had no choice. He said nothing, and when the men silenced as if waiting for a speech, he cleared his throat.

They howled again, louder and longer, as if they’d heard some bawdy punchline. He walked on in silence.

* * *

By dusk the men had set up barricades with wood and sandbags, camping as ordered on the slight curve of the road-side hill. They’d kept their fires low and mostly hidden by a ring of men’s backs, but still the party wasn’t exactly quiet. Their voices murmured and their knives and spoons clattered on bowls, but as night drew and no threat appeared, they grew less concerned in the gloom.

“Johann, Williams, scouts, with me.”

Lamorak had said little as the men went to their rest, but now he leaned like a dog on the hunt, and pointed at the trees.

Johann followed with his eyes and saw three figures had emerged from the near-by woods. They had clearly come forward a ways before noticing the camp. Now they were frozen like scared rabbits with a predator in sight.

The knight turned and leapt to his charger’s back. Johann and what few scouts they had scrambled for the nearest horses, which were unhooked from their burdens but as yet unsaddled.

A panicked burst of strength let Johann leap easily to the beast’s back, and without thinking he yanked on its mane and kicked its side, steering to follow the red dust rising behind Lamorak’s charge.

“Planck, right, Williams left,” Lamorak called. “There’s three of them. None escape until we know who they are.”

“Yes, sir!”

Johann had to turn his mount only with his thighs, but the animal seemed to understand, and seemed also to feel the urgent panic of its rider. As the now cool night wind rushed like a gale over Johann’s ears and hair, for a moment he thought the horse grew wings.

He clung desperately with clenched hands and squeezed legs as it snorted and raced down the slope towards the trees. He felt a thrill of fear, and in the last moments before it rushed into the woods, he prayed it could see the trunks clearer than he.

“Stop, or die, in the name of the king!”

The sound of Lamorak’s call and warhorse echoed like voices in an empty hall, reverberating through the trees. Johann meant to join his voice to it, and tried, then nearly flew from his mount.

A tree branch lashed across his face, the pain sharp against his cheek and half-open lips. He kept from calling out then focused every ounce of will to secure his hold, daring a glance up only after.

In a frozen moment, he looked and observed the wide, panicked eyes of a man-shaped figure, its arms raised. Then it slammed against the flank of his mount.

The man cried out and bounced away with a terrible thud, and Johann’s mount slid across the moist dirt and leaves. It nearly fell, then reared, promptly tossing Johann from its back.

Stars swirled above him in the red streaked blackness, and he rose slowly, and cautiously, testing each limb. When he found his feet and thanked God his body hadn’t been shattered, he staggered to the fallen silhouette of a cloak-wrapped body laying prone in the dirt.

“Are you alright? Who are you?”

Johann reached to his belt for a weapon, realizing now he hadn’t taken so much as a knife. He stood still and panted as he clutched his aching side, still debating what to do as Lamorak and the scouts dragged two more figures into the tiny clearing.

The knight dismounted, glancing briefly at Johann and around the trees.

“You’ve lost your horse.”

He didn’t smile, but Johann knew him well enough now to see the amusement in his eyes.

“We had a minor disagreement.”

Lamorak nodded and threw back his prisoner’s hood before tossing him to the ground, the scouts instantly doing the same.

“We ain’t doing no ‘arm, sir, please, don’t kill us.”

The almost feminine voice held a pitiful whine, and Johann blinked and stared at the total lack of whiskers on either face. He soon realized they were only boys of maybe eleven, or twelve.

Lamorak didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps care. He drew his sword and stepped forward, laying the naked steel on the boy’s shoulder.

“Kill you? Why should I kill you? What are you doing out in these trees in the middle of the night?”

“Please, please.” The boy’s face paled, his wide eyes reflecting the moon. “We won’t tell no one you were ‘ere, we swears it.”

At this the knight glanced at Johann, his jaw clenched, his eyes hard.

“Tell? And who would you tell, boy?”

While he spoke he knelt and checked the child Johann’s horse had rammed, flipping him to his back.

Even in the dark Johann saw blood smeared across the young face. He could hear the slight wheezing as the unconscious boy drew difficult breath.

“Nobody, sir, ‘ain’t nobody to tell, I mean, and I wouldn’t.”

Lamorak propped the unconscious boy against a tree, then without a word or a pause, he ran him through. A gurgled last choke escaped the boy’s lungs, and Johann jerked involuntarily, staring as the boy died. He felt a sudden numbness.

“I know you serve the militia. It’s alright. Are there more of you? More of you out in these trees?”

The boy stared at the corpse of his companion. “N-no, sir. I mean we don’t, sir, and ain’t no more of us. I swear.”

Lamorak nodded, then smiled sadly, like a father punishing his rebellious son. “Good lad. It’s alright. Look away now, or close your eyes.”

He seized the prisoner firmly, but gently, and the boy nodded and cried out as Lamorak pierced his chest with the bloody blade. They stayed there, almost embracing, as the child died.

“And you?” Lamorak looked to the last boy, who trembled and clutched the corpse beside him like driftwood in the sea. “Anything to add?”

The survivor swallowed, then spit in the dirt. “Long live the patriots.”

Lamorak nodded, then in one swift motion drove his blade through the boy’s chest.

All the while, Johann and the scouts stood perfectly still. Finished now, the knight paused and breathed the night air, and for a moment it seemed as if time froze in the clearing.

“They were children,” Johann finally whispered. He couldn’t seem to stop himself from shaking.

“Yes, children, and soldiers, and traitors.” Lamorak planted his bloody sword tip in the earth as he looked at the scouts. “Well done, gentlemen. Find the sergeant’s horse and return to camp. Tell the others the enemy scouts are slain. They can rest easy tonight.”

“Sir.” The scout blinked and tore his eyes from the bodies with a brief salute, then moved into the trees. When he’d gone, Johann met the knight’s eyes.

“You call this the king’s justice? This?” He pointed. “The slaughter of children?”

Lamorak surged instantly forward, face twisting with sudden rage. He seized Johann’s tunic and shook him, painfully tugging the fabric before he held him tight.

“I didn’t make him a soldier, did I? You’re all children. All of you. You’ve no idea how your world was forged, no understanding of loyalty, or honor, or knowledge of what your king gives you, what he bears for you. And I would murder ten thousand, a hundred thousand, to preserve this kingdom, this paradise, now rejected by those living like spoiled brats within. Do you understand me? Can you possibly?”

The knight gasped and released him, wild eyes blinking as they regained focus. Johann said nothing and stood perfectly still. He felt as if the knight could truly kill him. But when Lamorak spoke again, his voice had calmed.

“This is not a story in one of your books, Johann. In this world the strong gnash at one another with bared teeth. They twist and use and devour the weak, and justice is an endless war that can’t be won.” He sighed. “Tomorrow you and I will take our host of young men to slaughter another, and the old lords who roused them will sit in their castles and plot again. That is the truth.”

He took a deep breath and stepped away.

“Now get back on your fucking horse. Ride back to our men, and say we got the bastards trying to kill them. Show them their officers are keen-eyed killers, and all is well, and maybe a few will find their rest tonight. Understood, Sergeant?”

Johann stiffened, unable to quite wipe the sneer from his face, though deep down he wished he could. He raised his hand to his chest and clicked his boots in the formal salute of a Keevish soldier.

“Yes sir, perfectly, sir.”

Purchase The God King’s Legacy

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REVIEW: The Light Brigate by Kameron Hurley

“When you drop, you burst apart like…Well, first your whole body shakes. Then every muscle gets taut and contracts, like you’re experiencing a full-body muscle spasm centered in your core. The CO says it’s like a contraction when you’re having a kid, and if that’s true, if just one is like that, then I don’t know how everybody who has a kid isn’t dead already, because that’s bullshit.

Then you vibrate, you really vibrate, because every atom in your body is being ripped apart. It’s breaking you up like in those old sci-fi shows, but it’s not quick, it’s not painless, and you’re aware of every minute of it. You don’t have a body anymore, you’re locked in.

You’re a beam of light.”

I’ve been following Kameron Hurley on Twitter for way too long to not have read any of her work, especially since I own many of her books. I think she is ridiculously intelligent and constantly makes me think with what she says. I’m happy to report that it’s not just her tweets that tickle my brain, because goddamn. I dug the hell out of this!

I’m admittedly a rabid fan of military SFF. Besides books, obviously, other media that focuses on this sub-genre are some of my absolute favorite franchises! Aliens, Battlestar Galactica, Mass Effect… there’s just something about this genre that I can’t help but devour. Most recently, I’ve been diving into Myke Cole’s Reawakening series, which is military fantasy with sci-fi elements. When The Light Brigade was described as a successor to the classics like Starship Troopers and The Forever War (one of my all-time favorites), I knew I needed this to be my first Hurley. I mean… diverse military sci-fi time travel?!? Sign me the fuck up for all that!

Also, how fucking gorgeous is that cover by Eve Ventrue? I hadn’t heard of her until this, but you better believe I will be keeping up with her work from now on! Oof.

“It’s tough to understand a thing just by hearing about it or looking at it. It’s like having sex or getting into a fight. You don’t get it until you do it.”

The Light Brigade follows Dietz, who is an infantry recruit (a grunt) when we first meet her. She has joined the military in the war against Mars after an intensely traumatic event wipes out millions of people. Earth is run mostly by corporations, rather than the government. Because of this feud with Mars, they have developed a highly advanced, yet experimental, technology to travel quickly to combat zones.

The time travel in this is just fucking bananas! The soldiers are broken down into light particles and jarringly transported to their destination, where they are then reassembled. Seems safe, yeah? UM, NOPE. Things don’t always work out. Because of course not! I’m a fan of body horror, so I just ATE THIS UP!

The title refers to a nickname that is used for the soldiers in the Corporate Corps who have a bad reaction to the drop, which is when they teleport. Dietz is someone that experiences bad drops, but unlike anyone else. She is going through strange things, which often leaves her disoriented and questioning her mental stability. Eventually she begins to realize that she is experiencing the war throughout various time periods, which gives her a different view on the war and who the enemy truly is.

The most interesting thing for me in these types of books is what actually happens in combat and delving into how it affects a person’s mind. That’s what differentiates this particular sub-genre from other science fiction. Rather than have the primary focus on grim environments and alien species and space battles… the integral part of the stories are the soldiers. Hurley nails this. She’s exploiting the horrors of war, without ever glorifying or promoting it. And these characters completely captured my heart. Their chemistry, banter, comradeship, how authentic they felt… just ALL THE THINGS!

The Light Brigade is a mind-fuck. In fact, I’m finding it hard to gather my thoughts about it because it’s just… it’s a lot. ::insert reactionary gif of a brain exploding:: It’s brilliant and weird and just fucking brutal as hell. I adored all of the references that were sprinkled throughout, although I’m sure I missed even more. GAH!! I loved this book so goddamn much!

This is All You Need Is Kill (highly recommended – it’s the book that The Edge of Tomorrow is based on) meets The Forever War meets Battlestar Galactica, but far more aware of issues involving the real world and our present-day situation. Hurley is such an engaging writer. This is truly a masterful piece of military science fiction. Visceral, evocative, gritty, emotional and written with so much heart.

It has that old-school feel, but it’s a game changer. For real.

ALL THE BLOODSHED STARS IN THE GALAXY!!

(Massive thanks to the rad folks over at  Saga Press  for sending me a copy!)

Buy a copy of The Light Brigade

The post REVIEW: The Light Brigate by Kameron Hurley appeared first on Grimdark Magazine.

An Interview with Geoff Brown

Geoff Brown is the award-winning Australian writer and Australian Shadows Award finalist-editor owner of Cohesion Press.

Cohesion Press is best known for its flagship military horror anthology series SNAFU, stories from which recently made up a decent percentage of the fiction used to create the Netflix series Love, Death + Robots helmed by Deadpool’s Tim Miller.

[AC] The biggest news for Cohesion Press this year was the release of its stories in Love, Death + Robots. How does a small publisher from regional Victoria in Australia end up with their stories in a Netflix series?

[GB] Hard work combined with the best product possible. That is all. The Internet made it possible for us to reach anyone if we tried, so we tried, and we reached Hollywood.

I knew right from the get-go what I wanted in SNAFU, which is the book that caught Tim Miller’s eye in the first place.

Tim has since told me he read the first SNAFU when it came out in 2014, and he went ahead and read every anthology we released after that. Tim loves the short story format.

My advice to get the right attention? Just do a proper job. No cutting corners. No ‘near enough is good enough’. Just do it as it should be done.

So many publishers these days do a half-arsed job with every aspect of their output.

Crappy cover art and design, editing done by a friend who teaches high-school English (editing is a skill in itself, and being good at English and/or a heavy reader is NOT enough), layout done by Amazon when they upload a Word document.

That was never enough for me. If I couldn’t master a skill required, I would find an industry professional to do that aspect.

Hell, some of the presses these days are started by people who are barely authors themselves, let alone professionals, but suddenly (thanks to the ease of publication as a result of Kindle Direct and print-on-demand services) anyone can call themselves a publisher and release piles of crap on unsuspecting readers. No training, no industry awareness, and no care to gain any experience or knowledge.

We worked hard to reach the audience we have with SNAFU.

I’ve read my whole life, and then I worked in the publishing industry first as a beta reader, and after that I went on to study full-time for two years to gain the skills necessary to edit and perform layout for our work. I then opened as a freelance editor with the skills from study, as well as studying for a Bachelor of Arts in Writing and Publishing, online through a university. You can’t just put half-assed crap out and then feel entitled to success.

[AC] Not to make you pick from your babies, but which was your favourite adaptation and why?

[GB] I loved them all, for different reasons.

I thought Kirsten Cross’ short, Sucker of Souls, was brilliant, both as a story and as adapted into the animation. The characters, the humour, the dialogue, all made it across the process and were adapted beautifully.

Steve Lewis’ short story Suits had a real poignant humanity about it, how family and friends will do anything for each other, no matter the cost, and that was also brought perfectly into the short film.

David Amendola’s short, The Secret War, was just brutal in nature, and again, the animation sourced by Tim (Miller) and David (Fincher) was just right to convey this brutality in all its glory. Digic Pictures managed to make the short with almost photo-realism, capturing every spray of blood and head ripped from shoulders. Loved it, but I loved them all.

[AC] SNAFU is Cohesion’s flagship series. What is it all about and what can grimdark fans find in there to like?

[GB] SNAFU is the dark horror of war, short and simple. So much horror is creeping, subtle and gothic… ours is violent, brutal, and desperate. We ask for action, violence, tension, and blood, all as a result of warriors pitting themselves against monsters. Think Aliens (the sequel with the Colonial Marines), Dog Soldiers, Predator, all that cool shit. Violence, betrayal, intestines… who could ask for more?

[AC] You’re also Tim Miller’s senior story consultant. What does that role include?

[GB] I’m one of the senior story consultants for Love, Death + Robots. There are a few of us. What we did, and still do, is read. A lot.

After contacting Cohesion and buying rights to some of our shorts, Blur (Tim’s studio) was still hunting for more stories for season one. Tim’s taste was decisive for many of the final choices, and because he believed I had a similar taste in action/horror as he did, he wanted me to read widely in my narrow area of the genre and let him know when I found a short that I would have included in a SNAFU if it had been sent in for consideration.

All the story consultants were basically sending in the best stories we found. There was a spreadsheet Blur Studios had put together on Google Docs, a list of anthologies (hundreds and hundreds of them) that potentially may have something that could be used, so we slowly read through that list, but the beauty of having so many different readers in so many different genres was that we would likely come across stuff that wouldn’t be on that list.

[AC] What’s it like working with a famous Hollywood director?

[GB] Just like working with anyone else, really. Tim is a decent, focused, driven, down-to-earth guy.

He’s not up himself, he’s not pretentious or arrogant. He’s just another guy. He and his wife, Jennifer, are both just nice people.

They do hope one day to bring their family out to Australia to see the haunted asylum I own. That would be a very cool day, I have to say.

[AC] What is the next year looking like for Cohesion Press?

[GB] With SNAFU: Last Stand coming out at the end of 2019, and with a great selection of SNAFU stories in the process of being bought for season two of Love, Death + Robots, we’re looking at a great year for Cohesion. We plan to continue the yearly SNAFU release, and leave our focus on that.

AJ (Spedding) and Matt (Summers) are the two hardworking folk who keep the vision of SNAFU alive, and with their dedication to putting together the very best SNAFU release every year, Cohesion will keep chugging along, putting out books and watching them come to life on the screen with Netflix.

[AC] Running a small press is hard. What do you see as the biggest challenges facing Cohesion in the short and long terms?

[GB] As always, marketing and reach are the challenges faced by small and mid-sized presses across the board. With Amazon levelling the playing field with Kindle, we all have to plough through the swamp of mundanity to attract the attention of readers. With thousands of books published every week, at least, there are a lot of things out there saying “Hey, buy me, read me!” And most of them are shit.

We’re lucky in that regard. You can’t get much better marketing than Tim and Netflix.

All we have to do is stay current. Adapt to the market, yet stay true to our core concept and to the faithful readers who buy every issue.

[AC] What’s your favourite part of running Cohesion?

[GB] I have to say I love seeing authors we’ve put out there doing really well in all aspects of their career.

Some of our SNAFU writers, due to attracting Tim’s attention, ended up working on Love, Death + Robots in some other aspect as well.

These are people who never would have thought they’d be working with Hollywood, yet there they are.

I love seeing these writers feel positive and uplifted rather than constantly struggling to believe they are any good.

[AC] For people wanting to check out Cohesion Press’ productions, where should they start and what’s the best way for them to support you?

[GB] Buy a SNAFU. Review a SNAFU. We sell exclusively on Amazon for now.

We have eight SNAFUs out in ebook, and the latest one, SNAFU: Resurrection, is also in print.

We’ll be bringing more and more of the previous volumes back in print over the next year, as well.

If you enjoy what you read, leave a review and/or talk about it. Word-of-mouth is still the best marketing.

[Editor’s note: this interview is also available in Grimdark Magazine Issue #19]

Purchase SNAFU: Resurrection

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REVIEW: Traitor’s Blade by Sebastien de Castell

I will start this off by saying, Sebastien is a top guy, I’ve always loved meeting him at various events and was very much looking forward to reading Traitor’s Blade, the first instalment in The Greatcoats.

I was really really hoping I’d like it.

And I LOVED it! Really really loved it.

When you’re fighting a crowd, it’s good to shout potentially threatening things like “Crossbows!” or “Fire!” or “Giant Flying Cat!” every once in a while.

So, Traitor’s Blade is Sebastien de Castell’s first novel and has been immensely popular, for good reason. It is a tale of friendships, duty, trying to do good when everything else is down right evil, and swashbuckling duels. Lots of them. However, this is NOT a kissing book (for any fans of The Princess Bride).

Traitor’s Blade is Book 1 of The Greatcoats series, set in a world of dark deeds and political intrigue. Our main character and PoV is Falcio val Mond, First Cantor of The Greatcoats, all round clever clogs providing lots of wit and some pretty intense rapier duels. The Greatcoats are a fallen band of elite soldiers whose purpose was to serve the King and promote justice throughout the kingdom. But, the King is dead, the kingdom is run by various Dukes, the Greatcoats disbanded and are now known as ‘tatter-cloaks’.

I must have encountered the Duke somewhere on the road because I was carrying a sack with me and his head was in it.

We follow Falcio, along with his two fellow Greatcoats, Brasti, and Kest, as they attempt to carve their way through the depraved kingdom. It starts off at break-neck speed and it really does not hold up. It is such an intensely fast-paced book that you actually feel in a strange way the absolute exhaustion of Falcio as you turn the pages. There are no let-offs for this small band, nothing is easy and they have to employ every single weapon in their arsenal, every trick in their long book. All whilst providing some of the best witty dialogue I have read in fantasy.

The relationship between Falcio, Brasti, and Kest is the heart of this story, and is extremely enjoyable. Falcio, the leader and thinker of the group, Brasti the cocky archer and Kest the best sword-fighter in the land. They are a formidable trio. Those who say that these three resemble the Three Musketeers really aren’t mistaken. They have such a natural and fun camaraderie, where they make you laugh, smile and feel their pain as they fight together, argue, and get themselves into as much trouble as possible.

“My dear, not one man in a hundred can be a proper archer. And not one in ten thousand can become a master.”
“And you are one? A master archer, i mean?”
Brasti smiled and contemplated the nails of his right hand. “One might fairly say so, i believe.”
“One says so frequently,” I observed.

These last Greatcoats are constantly struggling to do the ‘honourable thing’ throughout, at odds with the traitorous world of thugs, knights, and dukes. The range and diversity of secondary characters is well used, with men and women adding to the mix, some that readers will love, others that readers will totally despise.

This story is grim in many ways. There is heightened violence and cruelty, with an environment that is unforgiving and backstabbing. There is one scene that went above and beyond the rest, while I understood why the author used it I still found it uncomfortable. Traitor’s Blade also has some awesome action scenes and set-pieces which gave all of the characters their individual times to shine. There were also scenes that hit hard on the motives and character building front where those with less martial prowess were able to have their moments for the reader.

The archer is the true weapon; the bow is just a long piece of wood.

5/5 – Traitor’s Blade is an accomplished and enjoyable read by the witty Sebastien de Castell. Full of fun and action, an intensely quick read that promises to give you characters that you love and hate, with as many twists and turns as a twisty turny thing. Enjoy!

Purchase Traitor’s Blade

Grab yourself a copy of this swashbuckling tale, and also, check out our interview with the author in Grimdark Magazine Issue #17.

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REVIEW: The Monster of Elendhaven by Jennifer Giesbrecht

The Monster of Elendhaven is the upcoming debut novella from Jennifer Giesbrecht, and, boy, it’s a doozie.  It is mostly the story of Johann, who washes up on the poisonous black shores of Elendhaven, a foul, little city in the Nord. He is taken in, literally and figuratively, by a fragile little accountant, Herr Leikenbloom, the last of a historic family destroyed by plague, who is both more and less than he seems. When an ambassador from the south comes to Elendhaven with a female companion and a business entourage looking to set up mining and railways, Herr Leikenbloom sees an opportunity he cannot ignore.  With Johann’s help he can achieve his life’s ambition. Can anyone stop him? It’s an interesting setup for a novella, but The Monster of Elendhaven is so much more than seems. Yes, it’s a dark fantasy thriller with plagues and monsters and evil people and a beautifully rendered nasty setting, but in Giesbrecht’s deft hands, it’s a compelling, psychologically gripping tale of lust and revenge, told in parallel, twisting narratives that ingeniously leave the reader sympathizing with the most horrible people imaginable.

The Monster of Elendhaven features three main characters. The ‘monster’, Johann, is a cruel, murderous… monster who cannot die, and whom people seem to forget as soon as they meet. He robs and kills for pleasure and education. He plots to kill the frail and richly attired accountant, Herr Leikenbloom, but falls under the little man’s spell. Yes, he finds out that Leikenbloom has some powers of his own, one of which is a preternatural power of persuasion that even Johann cannot resist. Leikenbloom entrances Johann and engages him to help plot revenge on all the people who forsook Leikenbloom’s family, fifteen years before, when it became clear they had contracted the plague. The plan moves along swimmingly until a third main character, Kanya, a mage hunter, makes her way to Elendhaven.  Each of these characters is created with stunning psychological complexity (Kanya to a slightly lesser degree), physical uniqueness, and irresistible charm. You will cheer for each of them, even when they are pitted against each other.

The main thread of The Monster of Elendhaven is told in Johann’s third-person point of view, and he is one creepy dude.  He is addicted to the worst things in life – power, lust, killing, greed.  But he is almost tamed by Herr Leikenbloom who seems to be the one person who doesn’t fear him… or anything really. This thread is interwoven with the story of Leikenbloom’s family, his anger at sadness at their downfall, and his deep sense of longing for his lost, plague-dead sister Flora. When she died, he threw her body into the Black Moon, the crescent-shaped body of poisonous black water that washes Elendhaven’s shores, because according to myth she can be washed ashore alive again by the goddess Hallendrette. But instead of getting Flora back, Leikenbloom gets Johann.

The centerpiece of the story is Liekenbloom’s annual party in which all the dignitaries, Nord and south, descend on Elendhaven for a traditional feast of Norden cuisine at a restaurant featuring some local… uh… delicacies. And what a feast it is. But aside from roasted seal eyeballs with caramelized onions and the wine that tastes like hangover vomit, the real delight here is Leikenbloom’s toast, which entrances, literally, all his guests… but one. It’s all downhill from there, as the story doesn’t exactly race to its inevitable conclusion, but more like it slithers there through the muck and blood and black boils and oil slick cobblestones.

As simple as a story with three main characters might be, though, The Monster of Elendhaven is not an easy read. Most of the narrative is restricted tightly around Johann, who doesn’t know much except how to kill and who is further compromised by his mysterious compulsion to serve Leikenbloom. Add to that the strange mystery of the boy who washes out of the Black Moon sea and the body stuck on a rock there dripping pus from its wound, and you have some slightly perplexing backstory to an at times opaque narrative. However, aside from its compelling plot and damnably loveable characters, the real beauty of The Monster of Elendhaven is Giesbrecht’s use of mood and imagery. Her writing is lush and provocative, wanton and daring, and poignantly detailed. She describes Leikenbloom after his toast: “He held his pose—a prince triumphant painted in classical oils, rich and aqueous and just the slightest bit smudged around the edges…” And from the complementary narrative, when the locals trapped the plagued Leikenblooms in their manor, and Frau Leikenbloom locked the servants in their cellar without food and drink: “When the pounding under the floorboards stopped, their mother said, ‘Good riddance,’ and adjusted the fringe of her shawl.”  At times Giesbrecht’s language and imagery reminded me of Susanna Clarke’s fantastic Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell (the book – I don’t watch TV), but a hundred times darker, which means it is pretty near brilliant and enticingly sinister.

The Monster of Elendhaven is a story rich enough for a full-length novel yet beautiful enough for a poem – a strange, grim, and mesmerizing tale that will leave you wanting to read it again immediately to find out what you missed, which is exactly what I did, and it was even better the second time. It is not a story about grim soldiers and hopeless military campaigns, but it definitely has the grimdark mentality.  No one is good or bad—each character has their own agenda and goals, for better or worse. I recommend The Monster of Elendhaven to anyone who likes dark fantasy and horror, as well as anyone who is interested in reading a brilliant character portrayal of a sympathetic yet horrifying anti-hero.  Though it has a few perplexing moments, and perhaps that part of its charm, I absolutely loved it, and I look forward to seeing what Giesbrecht does next.

Purchase The Monster of Elendhaven

The Monster of Elendhaven is scheduled for publication by Tor.com on 24 September 2019.

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6 shows coming in 2019/20 for fans of darker stories

With San Diego ComicCon 2019 wrapped, we think there is a season of TV (or six!) that fans of dark / grimdark / noir SFF should be excited about in the coming twelve months. While not all announced at ComicCon, it’s always this time of year that most of the fun stuff gets announced and we get the clearest picture of what’s on the horizon. Here we go!

The Expanse S4

Having finished the book I think season 4 of The Expanse is based upon a mere month or two back, I am absolutely chomping at the bit to get back in with the crew of the Roci as they make planetfall for the first time. The Expanse Season 4 drops on Amazon Prime December 13.

New to The Expanse? catch up, quick! Click here.

The Witcher S1

Let’s be honest, The Witcher is the television series we are all waiting for. Based on the book, and not the video game, this is going to be: potentially the most epic series to drop in 2020; as divisive as a season of Game of Thrones; and, also, potentially the biggest flop of the year. The Witcher Season One will drop later in 2019 on Netflix.

Watchmen S1

My experience with Watchmen is restricted to the movie, which was a bloody excellent flick (hides from comic fans). Massively under appreciated, in my opinion. I hadn’t heard this was on the way (I live under a rock in Australia), so was really happy to see this world getting on the silver screen once more. Watchmen drops in October 2019 from HBO.

Snowpiercer S1

2014’s Snowpiercer featured one of the brutal fight scenes I’ve ever seen. I went in honestly not expecting much and was planted on the edge of my seat two hours later. While I’m often the first to question the value of re-doing old movies (FFS, can somebody just produce The Blade Itself or Prince of Thorns already!!!???) I have to admit I’ll be binging Netflix’s Snowpiercer when it drops in 2020.

His Dark Materials S1

This one I know the least about. I saw it touted somewhere as potentially being the next Game of Thrones. For me, that’s like presenting a young sprinter as the next Usain Bolt, but we’ll see how His Dark Materials goes when HBO releases it towards the end of 2019.

Altered Carbon S2

I reckon my work desk rose a few inches when I saw Netflix’s trailer for Altered Carbon Season 2. The show hit the nail on the head, for me, on what’s possible when it comes to trying to be faithful to a book while converting the format. Let’s hope Netflix builds on what it achieved in Season 1 when Altered Carbon Season 2 drops in February 2020.

Catch up Season 1.

Plenty of good stuff to look forward to.

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Descent into Avernus by Wizards RPG Team

D&D’s newest campaign setting is dragging players straight to hell. This September, Dungeons and Dragons fans will have a chance to pick up Baldur’s Gate: Descent Into Avernus, a pre-written adventure module that’s equal parts high fantasy, Dante’s Inferno, and Mad Max: Fury Road. The campaign takes players from level one to thirteen and throws them into the first layer of the Nine Hells and the frontlines of an infernal battleground.

While the other eight tiers of the lower planes are less than hospitable, Avernus has the special distinction of playing host to the Blood Wars, a brutal and eternal struggle between lawful devils (who wish to rule mortals through deals, contracts, and deception) and chaotic demons (who just want to watch the world burn). To survive, players will have to make questionable allies with lesser evils, and even the most righteous of paladins will need to decide just how far they’re willing to compromise.

As a longtime D&D player and a fan of all things grimdark, I’m more than a little excited about this book. On the Dungeon Master side of the equation, Avernus promises a host of distinctive NPCs to roleplay and run in combat encounters. Some early standouts include Bitter Breath (a wingless, tongueless, and eerily silent devil), Mad Maggie (a Night Hag warlord with a fleet of fiendish bikers), and Smiler (a sadistic Fey the designers have compared to Jigsaw). On the other side of the cardboard screen, players can look forward to bartering soul coins, making faustian pacts for gold and experience points (or their very lives), and designing and upgrading their own Mad Max-style War Machine. Overall, this campaign setting promises to be the grimmest and darkest since Curse of Strahd. Maybe it is better to rule in hell than serve in heaven…

For a closer look at unholy things to come, a small selection of developer interviews is included below:

Purchase Descent into Avernus

Descent into Avernus drops on September 2019. G’arn, go grab yourself a copy!

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REVIEW: Blood of an Exile by Brian Naslund

I received an uncorrected proof copy of Blood of an Exile in exchange for an honest review. I would like to thank Brian Naslund and Tor.

Bershad the Flawless is a dragon-slayer. After betraying the King fourteen years ago Bershad was exiled and given a brutal sentence. To spend the rest of his days trying to kill the flying lizard behemoths that roam around Terra. To most, this is a fate worse than a simple execution and very few dragon-slayers ever actually complete the deed even once. Sixty-seven dragons later Bershad’s feats have become the tales of legend and he is the most successful dragon-killer of all time. Unfortunately, he is still shunned by the majority of the world’s inhabitants due to his tattoos which mark him as an exile. After his most recent mission, disposing of a Needle-Throated Verdun, a surprising proposition is offered to Bershad by the king who sentenced him. If he murders the emperor of a neighbouring kingdom he will walk away from the task a free man.

Blood of an Exile is a thrilling, action-packed rollercoaster ride of a dark fantasy debut and I devoured the four hundred plus pages in three days. It should not be confused with Mitchell Hogan’s equally excellent Shadow of the Exile. Naslund’s debut is predominantly set in a medieval-inspired world that features dragons, jaguars, vampires, strange snails that cause terrible diseases, and an adorable pet donkey. There is also a more advanced nation and this area showcases elements of steampunk too. The world building is topnotch and the uniqueness of the environment is presented deftly. Blood of an Exile only follows one timeline and the details of the characters’ pasts and intricate notions regarding Terra are presented through the characters thoughts and conversations throughout and comes across organically.

There are five point of view perspectives that we follow in Blood of an Exile. The most frequent is that of Bershad’s where readers follow him on his numerous missions alongside his only friend Rowan who is a forsaken shield, and his trusted donkey companion Alfonso. We are also welcomed into the minds of an assassin Garret, an alchemist’s apprentice Jolan, the daughter of the king who exiled Bershad, Ashelyn, and a mysterious and talented ‘widow’ Vera. Those familiar with John Gwynne’s novels, especially Of Blood and Bone will be used to the type of chapter presentation showcased here. Named chapters, frequent point of view switches, and occasionally more than one character analysing the same event when their paths cross, although often taking into consideration very different views, motives, and agendas.

Blood of an Exile deserves a place on the middle to the higher end of the grimdark scale. Terra is a horrendously brutal world and there are some truly gruesome moments. As well as Bershad’s assassination attempt the narrative features a potential civil war, an assassin assigned to murder very important individuals, duels for honour, and a potential cull of wildlife that could dramatically change the whole world. I became attached to many of the ensemble members even though it is littered with murderers, scumbags, schemers, and thieves. Without going into spoiler territory, some important players might not make it to the second book in the trilogy. One moment in particular nearly made me sling the book across the room! The ending is pretty exceptional and wraps up everything nicely. Blood of an Exile could work as a standalone but there are more than enough teasers and loose ends that mean I’ll definitely be continuing Bershad’s adventure. If I had to quickly summarise this novel I’d say it’s a darkly-tinged mixture of John Gwynne’s—Of Blood and Bone and Andrzej Sapkowski’s The Witcher Saga and is recommended for fans of both series.

Buy Blood of an Exile by Brian Naslund

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