Kathryn Troy's Blog, page 2

NOTES FROM THE UNDEADCOMING SOON ...

 

NOTES FROM THE UNDEADCOMING SOON


                                 
Notes from the Undead is about a man who comes to think he has transformed into a vampire, and whose reality deteriorates in very short order. The idea came to me as I was reading Hideyuki Kikuchi's series of novels VampireHunter D when, once again, D cuts off his sentient hand, infested by a nameless symbiote, and sends it off like Thing from the Addams Family to do his bidding. “What if,” I ventured, “what if this idiot just thinks his hand will come back to him? What if he just maimed himself, and sent his dead hand flopping to the floor, with a ‘chop chop! Hurry up now!’” Insanely grotesque. Immediately I began imagining the possibilities to address the state of vampire fiction, and contribute something innovative to it at the same time. As I pondered the modern application of vampiric tropes in my fiction, I stumbled into one seldom used—displacement, the longing for home soil. This story has been boiling around in my brain for over five years, and has been in an out of revision as I constantly think of Rick and what his story needs to be complete. Rod is literally sucking the life out of me.  But I'll be goddamned if I'm not gonna do this one right. I'm exhausted. And proud.

Rushing to the Conclusion: Ghostly Echoes

I came back to this series quicker than I normally would, because the second installment of the Jackaby series left off with some very interesting changes in the resident ghost's activity, and I wanted to see what the series would do with a trope that is very well-covered and traditional, compared to redcaps and some of the other crazy paranormal creatures that made their appearances in the first two books.

Unfortunately, there was too much going on here in Ghostly Echoes , and as much as I wanted the book to focus on the murder-mystery style task of discovering Jenny's killer and putting her to rest, we got thrown into a whole other set of otherworldly creatures and rules of the fae and the River Styx. It's not that these things weren't interesting, but once again they're in a jumble with other things, so there wasn't as much depth of detail, and in that way the narrative that could have been very tight quickly lost focus. There was also a missed opportunity to develop how the ghostly realm and the realm of the dead works here. There was an effort at that, with Abby's descent into the land of the dead, but it had very little to do with Jenny's temporal changes, and just felt too far afield, even for these novels.

I'm not as hyped up about finishing the series as I was to come to this title. So it might be quite a while before I pick up book number 4, if at all.

K Rating/ 2/5

Solid Serial Killer: Looking Glass

I was pleasantly surprised by how different Andrew Mayne's The Naturalist was, in terms of the investigation of a rampant serial killer working under the radar, and in the quirky, almost inhumanly scientific way that Dr. Theo Cray uses his weirdly wired brain to solve the unsolvable.
This continued with the second installment, Looking Glass, which handled the same kind of case - the kind that goes on and on for years with people not even realizing it's happening, but with the new twist of the killer being more of an urban legend than reality. Mayne is able to successfully demonstrate the gravity and scope of the crimes he writes about it in a way that gives you a real sense of urgency in the solving of cold cases. I don't read crime thrillers extensively, but this is certainly a unique take from what I've seen, and it's what keeps me coming back. That, and the fact that Theo is a likable guy, even though the other characters in the book don't seem to like him. This is especially true of law enforcement characters- they don't like being told how to do their jobs, predictably, even when they need to be told how to do their jobs. So that element of tension in the books, and what Theo will or won't have access to to complete his investigations is compelling. Also, I really do sympathize with a character who is always and indisputably the smartest guy in the room.
The other thing that I appreciate about Mayne's work is that he doesn't play it safe in the nature of his crimes. They are grisly and disturbing, and in many ways all-too-real. The same is true of the bleak backdrop, both in the opioid crisis of the first book, and of the broken family dynamics in low-income and/or crime-ridden areas, as is the case in this book. He's not afraid to have kids be his primary victims, and I appreciate that boldness and edginess. As someone who reads horror and thrillers that gear toward horror, in my estimation, it wouldn't be as good if it wasn't transgressive, and in a way that is also a pointed social commentary on social issues that are not fictional or imaginary. The backyard full of bones was an especially powerful scene.
Another excellent title on on fronts. And that kind of reliability these days is very hard to find.K Rating: 5/5

So Very Good: Death Come to London, and Kurland Hall

I've been reading these Kurland St. Mary Mysteries so quickly- because they are so good and such quick reads (I can't imagine putting the books down) that I'm going to review Books 2 and 3 Death Comes to London, and Death Comes to Kurland Hall together.

This is a great series, and has pretty much everything that I'm looking for in books like these. There's always a new mystery (of course), but those mysteries are complex and compelling and really draw you into each new round of characters and their motivations. All the while as we're looking at evidence and suspects, and twists and turns of the plot, we're following Major Kurland and Lucy along as well, and the chemistry- both as investigators and as romantic interests - is explosive.

In Death Comes to London, Lucy Harrington has gone to London with her sister to help her have her season, where hopefully she will come away with a husband. Lucy is hoping for the same, but her time is consumed with the murder of a wretched old woman who drops dead after being insulted by another wretched old woman. Rather than spending time with prospective suitors, Lucy is constantly visiting with Robert to get to the bottom of the case. This of course scares off any other men, and it becomes obvious to everyone (except Lucy and Robert) that something more than an investigation is brewing between them. By the end of this book, Lucy's relations pressure Robert into offering to marry her, since he's monopolization of her time has ruined her chances with anyone else. Needless to say, this doesn't go well.

So in Death Comes to Kurland Hall, things are tense between the two, to say the least, but that has to be put aside as there's yet another death, as Lucy is planning the nuptuals of her friend. It takes the interest of yet another person for Robert to realize how he feels and to act on it. Which was very satisfying indeed.

The fourth book, Death Comes to the Fair, was on its way to my local library when it shut down on account of coronavirus. So aside from my twice-cancelled Disney vacation, this book is the very first thing I'll be doing when I'm able to leave my house again. Stay safe and healthy - and find a good boo to read!

K. Rating: 5/5 (on both counts)

A Good Dare Alternative: Suddenly You

The fact that I keep talking again and again about looking for a romance author that I like other than Tessa Dare should tell you everything you need to know about what I've been reading lately.

It's not my usual way of doing things, to read voraciously in one genre title after title without switching it up. But my reading habits are coming up against my writing habits. And right now, I am in the thick of finishing up my manuscript for The Shadow of Theron, a hefty fantasy title. (more on that in my bio) So my brain can't even think of reading someone else's fantasy at the moment, which is my preferred genre. All the same though, I like to read other people's work in between chapters to refresh my brain and get me thinking for the next one. Hence the quick brainless reads happening at warp speed.

So- now that I've explained myself, and why this blog has taken a heavy turn toward the romance titles - the book on today's chopping block is Suddenly You by Lisa Kleypas. I was pleasantly surprised by this book and the chemistry between the shark-like publisher Jack and the author-cum-spinster Amanda. In an unusual twist, rather than acting loutish and proving everyone else right about what a brute Jack is, he never presents himself as more or less than he is, and his attraction to Amanda is straightforward from the beginning - that is, except for the very very beginning, where Amanda mistakes him for the boy-toy birthday present that she buys for herself. Jack is happy to oblige, of course, and the tension comes from her mortification when she discovers who he truly is. But by then, the die has been cast- for both of them. Jack's desire for her is palpable and written in a compelling fashion, which I really liked, and the steamy scenes were executed well. Kleypas pushed the boundaries of the sensual encounters I have read up to this point, and did it in a way that felt intrinsic to both characters.

There was no major moment where a character lost my respect or my sense of their likability, and that's always what I'm looking for with new romance.

So this one was a win - hopefully when I pick Kleypas up again, I will get a similar result. Then I will be very happy.

K. Rating: 5/5

Better than the Last: Prophecy

It's always a good feeling when you get to the second book in a new series, and you're able to say at the end of it, "yep, I'm sticking with this one." That's the case for me and Giordano Bruno, the heretic-cum-detective of S.J. Parris's historical mysteries. In Prophecy , there's a smooth continuation of the underlying tensions of religious conflict in Elizabethan England while also giving us a fresh setting away from Oxford (where the first book is set) that puts us right in the middle of the royal court and Queen Elizabeth's fascination with the historical figure of John Dee and all manner of occult knowledge. The promise of occultism with historical mystery is a heady concoction that I will never cease to pick up, and Parris treats it beautifully here.

What really deserves high marks in this book is how Parris treats historical interest in occultism. It's not all black-and-white, with some people seeing this as the future, others seeking delusions of grandeur and the secrets of the universe and divinity, and others who are so staunchly Christian that the mere thought of pre-Christian knowledge sets them to thoughts of burning witches. That kind of complex landscape is as true and accurate as it can get, and it showcases that Parris knows his stuff and can work with it to create a truly intriguing mystery.

The cast of characters in this book, as in the last one, are really well-developed and fleshed out, with no chance that you'll mistake one character for the other. They and their motivations are all complex, with no stock characters among them who are easy to peg as guilty, innocent, or any number of things inbetween. And Bruno weaves through them with a sly wit and social grace that is eminently endearing - he's exactly the kind of historical detective that you root for and can easily identify with as someone who is supremely smart but spends most of his time in the dark among people he doesn't trust, and can outmaneuver even the most cunning villains. He is unpredictably indestructible, and that gets a cheer out of me every time.

With all the books that leave me wanting more lately, it's satisfying to know that I can come to Bruno's adventures with a sense of hope and optimism that good storytelling is not yet dead. And also, the narrator for the audio books is just perfect.

K. Rating: 4/5

Didn't Hit the Right Note: Just Like Heaven

I keep trying to find a romance author that I can read reliably for enjoyment that isn't Tessa Dare. I tried a second book by Julia Quinn, Just Like Heaven , because the last one that I read wasn't half bad.
Well, this one wasn't half good.

It wasn't that there were things that bothered me, per se, about the not really real courtship between life-long friends Marcus and Honoria. Is that the plot, which is mostly centered around a grievous injury that Honoria causes and then later helps to heal, took up so much of the plot that I had a hard time seeing where the emotional/physical chemistry was. So they've known each other from childhood, and Honoria's family is practically the only family that Marcus has ever had. I get that. That's a recipe for a good romance simmering under the surface for years.

But that's not really how this is played. If anything, this book goes through the motions of getting these two people together, without really taking the time to spell out their mutual attraction in a way that is compelling and makes you anticipate when they will actually express how they feel. That's how this book could have gone and could have been much better, but it just didn't. There weren't enough outside factors in the way that the leads were established to bring them together in any way that doesn't feel like an arbitrary service to the plot.

I'm not sure if I will come back to Quinn. It's a tough call, because she didn't offend my sensibilities, which is what normally turns me off to romance authors. All the same though, I wasn't thrilled or satisfied by the reading of it. It's a tough call. But with her extensive backlist, perhaps I just need to be much more exacting with exactly which of her back covers holds the most promise.

K Rating: 1/5

Them Crazy Bitches: The Wives

My taste in thrillers runs towards the dark and atmospheric- the more you can skirt the edges of horror and speculative fiction, the better. That means of course that I don't read a whole lot of "domestic thrillers," but something about the description of The Wives  pulled me in. Perhaps it's because I was a casual watcher of TLC's Sister Wives, and have a morbid fascination with exactly how polygamy works. So when I saw a thriller with this unusual arrangement at its center, I was curious as to how everything in this fictional setup would fall apart.

The first part of the book, where you're getting a sense of the arrangements, works best. Because there is an inherent tension in Thursday, the main character (whose name you don't discover for quite some time), and her husband Seth, who had two other wives that you don't see. But there's the promise that you will meet these wives, and see if they truly are aware of this secret arrangement (very unlike Sister Wives) as Seth claims they are. That rule of secrecy and separation is what makes it interesting.

But once Thursday reaches out to the other two women, the whole story falls apart. It falls so easily into the old trope of the crazy woman who's invented her own nightmares, but has she really because we still see Seth manipulating her to the point of institutionalization, and something really is going on because the wives are keeping secrets of their own, including that Seth is physically abusive, and and and......

I'm all for convoluted stories. But speaking as a person who devoured Twin Peaks: this story made no goddamned sense. It made less and less sense as it progressed, and it was clear that was done for the sake of endless twists and turns. The problem with that however, was that no one was at the helm: this kind of rabbit-tunnel plot takes a serious amount of planning to execute well, but the book read like Fisher wrote the plot by the seat of her pants without making sure that all her loose ends were tied up. There were some logical inconsistencies in the real world which are never resolved. But of course, it's hard to pinpoint and fix plot holes when your book is deliberately full of them.

This could have been a lot better if the author had exercised a modicum of restraint, and perhaps had inserted some variety into her cast of female characters who all, essentially, had the same flaws of aligning their values to men's perception of them. I get that that's part of the point of this book, but with all characters acting under the same premise, it's hard to differentiate and move the plot forward in a meaningful way. We're not all crazy, after all.

K. Rating: 2/5

Traveling in Time with Nowhere to Go: The Rose Garden

I said in my review of Bellewether that I would be back for another dose of Susanna Kearsley soon, because I liked her prose and wanted to see her do more with what she had - a good sense of historical fiction blended with romance and a literary touch. I was hoping with The Rose Garden , which was marketed specifically as a time-travel romance (of which I read very few but am always on the lookout for good ones) that this time the romance would have some meat to it.

I was mistaken. It was just as flimsy and bare-bones as the last title. Apparently, you can deeply fall in love with someone that you've had a handful of mundane conversations with - no flirting, affection, or romantic overtures required. Also- and this added insult to injury - time travel happens whenever the plot suits, with no rhyme or reason. Seriously- there was no logic whatsoever to the time-traveling mechanism at work in this book. There's a line or two about how the property Eva is staying at after the death of her sister sits on ley lines, as if that is supposed to explain everything. Half the planet doesn't even know what those are. Anyone who watches Dark knows that that's the furthest thing from the truth, the truth being, having the common decency to take a sci-fi concept at least partly seriously. I can't stand people who use speculative tropes in their writing without thinking them through or showing any real desire to do so.

The worst bit, though, was that this plot went absolutely nowhere. Both in the present and the past, there was no sense of urgency in either case. They was some mild exploration of tranquil grounds and a getting to know people who were barely serviceable for the plot.

There are books that I like, and books that I don't. Few make me angry.

K. Rating: 1/5

Two Boneheads Fall in Love: One Dance with the Duke

As I wait for the next installment of Tessa Dare's newest series, I've been sifting through her backlist. This time I landed with the first book of her Stud Club series, One Dance with a Duke . The stud club refers to a stallion, of course, and this first book centers on the Duke of Morland, an anti-social brute (aren't they all?) looking to possess the stallion Osiris for his own - for entirely sentimental reasons that he will play very predictably close to the chest.

I suppose that is the point of genre romance, isn't it? To be predictable? With a very small modicum of excitement and newness thrown in? This particular book, will still above the standard of other authors, was very predictable in its trajectory. There were some good, sensual moments between the duke and Amelia, the self-professed curvy girl who loves everyone she meets to a fault, but in this particular case the emotional moments that I favor had a bad taste to them because there were multiple instances of both leads acting badly toward each other. Usually, it's the duke who's being the dunderhead, but in this case, there were times when I wanted to smack both of them upside the head, which meant that the scenes of emotional connection were not as strong as they could have been, and which would have elevated this title. The biggest example is how Amelia's enabling of her brother's gambling habits is written as her deep devotion to him, and when the Spencer (the duke) points out to her that she's doing more harm than good, she is furious, and he is forced to apologize. Really? Sorry. The woman is not always right. That's not very female-forward, and for someone like me who can't really stand stupid people or the stupid decisions they make, it didn't endear me to her at all.

I also didn't appreciate the constant reference to Amelia's size. I'm all for curvy women being praised and desired, in fiction and in real life, but the way in which this was a constant descriptor made it sound like she was obese and that Spencer had a fat fetish. That's all fine, but that's more of a niche read, which is not what I'm looking for and I'm pretty sure that's not what Dare intended. So while trying to be inclusive of all shapes, getting hit on the head with it tends to have the opposite effect, highlighting this as an outlier. Especially when paired with constant references to the fact that Amelia, by her own and Spencer's standards, "is no great beauty." Hmm. Doesn't exactly make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Which is what romance paperbacks are supposed to do!

K Rating: 3/5