I love it when I see something genuinely new, something that isn't the same old story in the same old setting retold for the far-too-manyth time, and that is what Brood of Bones is. Though it's not without its flaws, it's certainly the kind of book that makes me want to read the sequel.
First, let's talk about the homonyms and malapropisms. It's usually unfortunate when an author attempts a "formal", "high" or "period" style, not only because it makes the characters seem remote and unemotional, but because very few people have the vocabulary to pull it off. This author is not one of those few people. (Note: He tells me in a comment to the Amazon version of this review that he has fixed these issues thanks to my feedback, so when you pick up a copy of the book - and I hope you do - they should be gone. I've removed the list from this review accordingly.)
So much for language. It's mostly serviceable enough, but there were enough errors to annoy me (I'm easily annoyed when it comes to language errors).
Now, worldbuilding. The worldbuilding is very much a game of two halves. On the one hand, the magical setup reminds me of Brandon Sanderson: it's creative and fresh, and there are a number of different kinds of magic-user. Enchantresses (like the main character) can cast spells on objects, mainly metal and gems, and on people, but only while asleep and in skin-to-skin contact - a detail they keep secret. Spellswords are their guards, who can use magical swords and armour that ordinary men couldn't lift. Feasters are evil illusionists who kill with fear and act like psychic vampires, feeding on the terror of their victims. Soultrappers are evil magicians of blood and bone who can dominate people's will. The powers, and limitations, of the various kinds of magic are a key element in the plot.
On the other hand, the culture of the setting feels a bit slapped together. It's like someone took some mostly African animals and plants (though there's also a random cockatoo) and some Arabic cultural odds and ends, added a slight flavour of India and ran them through a blender set on Extra Chunky. It's not up to the standard of the magic system. There's also an anachronism, where the enchantress refers to a "clone" (which isn't a literal clone, it's an illusionary doppelganger, so it's not as if that was the only word to use).
Now, the characters. The first-person narrator is an enchantress with narcolepsy, which is useful in that she's constantly falling asleep (and in her dreams she's lucid in both senses of the word, capable of "playing back" conversations in a magic mirror and spotting tiny details of facial expression that give away deception, and able to work her magic, including healing herself). On the other hand, when she's awake she's bleary, short-tempered, rude, undiplomatic and not all that bright, and liable to fall asleep again at inconvenient moments. She also wears twenty-seven gowns, each of which represents an honour she's won, and is constantly struggling with their bulk and the limitations they place on her with the help of her sarcastic servant, Maid Janny.
I can see why some reviewers didn't like her. She insists on formality, perhaps because she comes from a relatively poor background in which she was ill thought of because of her narcolepsy, and now that she's a top dog instead of an underdog she's determined to bark. She's rude, as I said, not only to Maid Janny but to everyone. I did sympathise and empathise with her, however. She's struggling with chronic illness, she suffers from the formality more than anyone because of the ridiculous gowns, and she's doing her best, at considerable personal risk, to save her beloved home city and its people from several different major threats. She definitely grew on me over the course of the book, and she wasn't one-note or one-dimensional. I appreciated, too, her knowledge of anatomy and physiology (and gemstones, though I'm fairly sure that a red sapphire is, by definition, a ruby).
Only one other character really emerges from minor-character status, and I won't say who it is because of spoilers, but he's a deeply conflicted person with a tragic history. Well done on the characters.
The plot is, essentially, a mystery: Who has somehow made every woman in the city pregnant at once, how, and why? The answers to those questions unfold slowly, but at a steady pace, and are appropriately dramatic, even horrifying. Meanwhile, the enchantress's own single status and her despair of ever having a family of her own, given her illness, play against the pregnancy theme (she herself was out of the city when the pregnancies began).
A.E. Marling is a name I see around a bit, and I'll definitely be looking for other books by this author, though I would plead with him to get a better proofreader.