A Death in Belmont
Junger, Sebastian (2009-05-30). A Death in Belmont. W. W. Norton & Company. Kindle Edition.
Reviewed by Kurt C. Schuett and posted on Great Britain's #1 Horror Site, Ginger Nuts of Horror on 3-18-2015
Sebastian Junger performs a rear-naked chokehold, also known as a “blood choke,” on his readers by restricting the vital fluid to their brains in A Death in Belmont. But instead of pinching his readers’ carotid arteries, he squeezes their emotional, moral, and psychological veins in this deeply descriptive, and disturbing, work of narrative nonfiction.
The series of murders highlighted in and around the City of Boston in the 60s, earmarked by increasingly dramatic staged sexual assaults and post-rape humiliations, serves as the book’s catalyst. Most readers will be shocked to discover the perverse arrangement of victims as the killer’s blueprint maintains consistency through ninety percent of the killings. One of this book’s strengths is its descriptive fact checking; Junger and his editors at W.W. Norton spared no expense in regard to their collective and expansive foot-noted road map of the Boston Strangler saga. The story’s rich treasury of details is somewhat reminiscent of Caputo’s In Cold Blood. Even as the aforesaid is a strength per my opinion, some may consider the vastness of Junger’s details a caveat. I hope not because any story firmly entrenched in the workings of the judicial system needs to be both comprehensive and meticulous in scope and sequence, especially in regard to a storyline like the Boston Strangler that has so many loopholes (pun intended).
Some might consider the 1960s a hiccup of recurrent racial tensions, extreme socio-economic diversity, and religious and/or personal belief system disparity, all of which have plagued the United States since its inception, but let’s call it what it really was—life. Coupled with the backdrop of civil rights activism in the 1960s, this book highlights both the struggles of poor minority and immigrant neighborhoods, which in turn serves as a foil to well-to-do communities like Belmont, Massachusetts. Mr. Junger not only gives his readers an interesting history lesson, but he shares a unique family life stamp as one of the potential perps, Al DeSalvo, actually spent time at his childhood home, serving as a handyman to a contracting crew building a studio for his mother. Junger juxtaposes the aforementioned with a detailed account of the arrest of Roy Smith, an African-American who was arrested, tried, and convicted for the murder and rape of Bessie Goldberg, a fellow resident of the affluent Boston suburb. The story revolves around Smith and DeSalvo, both jailed as one maintains his innocence as the Boston Strangler while the other, ironically, strives to achieve the ghastly distinction.
The only reservations I would extend concerning A Death in Belmont revolve around its editing. Any close reader will undoubtedly discover a handful of flagrant typos and awkward phrasing. Examples include commonplace misspellings (e.g. “thir” for their), redundancy (e.g. “so Giacoppo waited until his shift was over to drive over to 93…”), comma usage (e.g. failing to provide a comma in compound sentences: “He told Coughlin to go up the front stairs of the building and he pulled his gun and went up the back stairs.”), and apostrophe usage (e.g. plural-possessive mistake: “had to sleep under other peoples’ houses to…”) just to name a few. I can say after tweeting about a couple of the editing mistakes W.W. Norton replied via social media that they would update the files, which was admirable. But let’s call a spade a spade—these editing mistakes should have been caught long before this book ever went to both print and e-book, especially considering the reverence and devotion many readers hold toward the publishing giant W.W. Norton and Company.
But getting back to better things. There is nothing Punch and Judy about this novel—it’s an intellectual and serious read, and the storyline demands one’s attention. Plus, Junger gives several powerful maxims throughout the piece. Hands down, one of my favorite quotes in the book states:
“In some ways there is nothing less relevant than an old murder case. The reason it is important is this: Here is a group of people who have gathered to judge— and possibly execute— a fellow citizen. It’s the highest calling there is, the very thing that separates us from social anarchy, and it has to be done well.”
Undoubtedly, this quote is an analogy for life and everything that can and should govern it. Old murder cases are cold, both literally and figuratively, and whenever a story keeps you talking about it in small circles with friends and pondering the “what ifs” while lying in bed, it’s worth a go. A cross between Helter Skelter and In Cold Blood, the terrifying reality of bad things sometimes happening to good people makes Junger’s A Death in Belmont a relevant read in 2015.
4 out of 5 cigars
Junger, Sebastian (2009-05-30). A Death in Belmont. W. W. Norton & Company. Kindle Edition.
Reviewed by Kurt C. Schuett and posted on Great Britain's #1 Horror Site, Ginger Nuts of Horror on 3-18-2015
Sebastian Junger performs a rear-naked chokehold, also known as a “blood choke,” on his readers by restricting the vital fluid to their brains in A Death in Belmont. But instead of pinching his readers’ carotid arteries, he squeezes their emotional, moral, and psychological veins in this deeply descriptive, and disturbing, work of narrative nonfiction.
The series of murders highlighted in and around the City of Boston in the 60s, earmarked by increasingly dramatic staged sexual assaults and post-rape humiliations, serves as the book’s catalyst. Most readers will be shocked to discover the perverse arrangement of victims as the killer’s blueprint maintains consistency through ninety percent of the killings. One of this book’s strengths is its descriptive fact checking; Junger and his editors at W.W. Norton spared no expense in regard to their collective and expansive foot-noted road map of the Boston Strangler saga. The story’s rich treasury of details is somewhat reminiscent of Caputo’s In Cold Blood. Even as the aforesaid is a strength per my opinion, some may consider the vastness of Junger’s details a caveat. I hope not because any story firmly entrenched in the workings of the judicial system needs to be both comprehensive and meticulous in scope and sequence, especially in regard to a storyline like the Boston Strangler that has so many loopholes (pun intended).
Some might consider the 1960s a hiccup of recurrent racial tensions, extreme socio-economic diversity, and religious and/or personal belief system disparity, all of which have plagued the United States since its inception, but let’s call it what it really was—life. Coupled with the backdrop of civil rights activism in the 1960s, this book highlights both the struggles of poor minority and immigrant neighborhoods, which in turn serves as a foil to well-to-do communities like Belmont, Massachusetts. Mr. Junger not only gives his readers an interesting history lesson, but he shares a unique family life stamp as one of the potential perps, Al DeSalvo, actually spent time at his childhood home, serving as a handyman to a contracting crew building a studio for his mother. Junger juxtaposes the aforementioned with a detailed account of the arrest of Roy Smith, an African-American who was arrested, tried, and convicted for the murder and rape of Bessie Goldberg, a fellow resident of the affluent Boston suburb. The story revolves around Smith and DeSalvo, both jailed as one maintains his innocence as the Boston Strangler while the other, ironically, strives to achieve the ghastly distinction.
The only reservations I would extend concerning A Death in Belmont revolve around its editing. Any close reader will undoubtedly discover a handful of flagrant typos and awkward phrasing. Examples include commonplace misspellings (e.g. “thir” for their), redundancy (e.g. “so Giacoppo waited until his shift was over to drive over to 93…”), comma usage (e.g. failing to provide a comma in compound sentences: “He told Coughlin to go up the front stairs of the building and he pulled his gun and went up the back stairs.”), and apostrophe usage (e.g. plural-possessive mistake: “had to sleep under other peoples’ houses to…”) just to name a few. I can say after tweeting about a couple of the editing mistakes W.W. Norton replied via social media that they would update the files, which was admirable. But let’s call a spade a spade—these editing mistakes should have been caught long before this book ever went to both print and e-book, especially considering the reverence and devotion many readers hold toward the publishing giant W.W. Norton and Company.
But getting back to better things. There is nothing Punch and Judy about this novel—it’s an intellectual and serious read, and the storyline demands one’s attention. Plus, Junger gives several powerful maxims throughout the piece. Hands down, one of my favorite quotes in the book states:
“In some ways there is nothing less relevant than an old murder case. The reason it is important is this: Here is a group of people who have gathered to judge— and possibly execute— a fellow citizen. It’s the highest calling there is, the very thing that separates us from social anarchy, and it has to be done well.”
Undoubtedly, this quote is an analogy for life and everything that can and should govern it. Old murder cases are cold, both literally and figuratively, and whenever a story keeps you talking about it in small circles with friends and pondering the “what ifs” while lying in bed, it’s worth a go. A cross between Helter Skelter and In Cold Blood, the terrifying reality of bad things sometimes happening to good people makes Junger’s A Death in Belmont a relevant read in 2015.
4 out of 5 cigars
Book Review for Ginger Nuts of Horror
Billy and the Cloneasaurus by Stephen Kozeniewski
Reviewer: Kurt Schuett
Who doesn’t appreciate euthanasia with a side of vomit?
First and foremost, author Stephen Kozeniewski can write and write well. Readers who appreciate tightly crafted syntax embedded with carefully plotted literary devices (e.g. theme, symbolism, satire, etc.) really need to grab one of his stories.
As for Billy and the Cloneasaurus, Mr. Kozeniewski plunges the reader into what most will deem a dystopian future, where clones have taken the place of typical human beings. As many dystopian-esque stories do, time becomes one of the largest internal and external conflicts in the piece. Consequently, I really liked a lot of the object symbolism this book provides—everything from a typical time piece, to a watch that looks standard but is made with high-end steel and crystal and only worn by aristocracy, to a decanting bank with slurry machine that recycles bodies per a carefully scripted time schedule for cannibalistic purposes. All of the aforesaid tie directly into the thread of time and segue deeper into motifs like age discrimination, maintaining the status quo, and the fragility of life.
An intelligent look into the miniscule window of life, this novel initially circumvents the competition by reminding readers of the reality of chance circumstance. But as shrewd and crafty authors are wont to do, Mr. Kozeniewski will spin the aforementioned into an ironic twist deeper into the book, enjoyably catching readers off guard.
Readers who have a penchant for transcendentalist literature will enjoy some of the carpe diem sentiment underlying this book. Here is one of my favorite quotes from the novel:
“790—the new, the old, the original, the replacement, the only one left, and the only one there would ever be again, he vowed silently to himself—clenched the watch of the poor, useless, one-day old dead kid in his hand. He vowed that, from that day forth, he would never be forced into the role that had been pre-assigned for him. He would think outside the boundaries of what he had been told he could accomplish. He would finally be an individual, and honor his replacement’s memory.”
The transcendentalist philosophy rings true as the book’s protagonist, Billy, decides he will buck the trend of the typical 365-day life span of a clone. Hence, the fiber of Billy’s day-to-day routine will be tested as he pushes beyond the acceptable 1984-style limits of Williamerica.
Some readers may struggle with the substitution of names for numbers, but about one-third of the way into the read the characters blend seamlessly into memory. In addition there’s some “Heinz” 57 number symbolism readers will undoubtedly discover and find charming towards the end of the book. With that being said, the first part of Billy and the Cloneasaurus was a little slow for my liking; subsequently, the horror element is extremely subtle. Personally, I like subtle, but I wish the complications and crises entrenched in the story’s rising action would have been a little more profound. As for the book’s title, I’m just going to plead the Bart Simpson—“Aww Man.” Finally, the dialogue between the “William” clones grows somewhat distracting and tiresome as the author’s constructed dialect reads somewhat forced at times, but since this is futuristic pop fiction, maybe that was the intention.
But honestly, who doesn’t like a big old fat satire? Readers who appreciate understated political criticism will enjoy rooting against The Corporation, a government creating FEAR to drive capitalism inside its own borders (this never happens in real life now, does it…sigh). And finally once the reader gets to the halfway point of the story, some mad scientist monster-making takes place. It doesn’t take the reader long to realize that the newly introduced character Wilson has Dr. Frankenstein Complex, which takes the second half of the book into an interesting direction.
The ending was satisfying yet a little too cute for me. I always applaud an unhappy ending of sorts, and I equally understand the purposely satiric action made on the last page; it just didn’t do it for me. But not to worry as horror wears many different hats, and there are plenty of disturbing occurrences flanking the reader from all ends towards the end of the novel. This may not be a traditional read for gore hounds, but plenty of disconcerting scenes, ready to satisfy aficionados of shock and revulsion, are evident.
All in all, this was another pleasurable and intellectual read from a writer who continues to make a name among the ranks of excellent up-and-coming speculative fiction authors.
3.5 out of 5 cigars
Billy and the Cloneasaurus by Stephen Kozeniewski
Reviewer: Kurt Schuett
Who doesn’t appreciate euthanasia with a side of vomit?
First and foremost, author Stephen Kozeniewski can write and write well. Readers who appreciate tightly crafted syntax embedded with carefully plotted literary devices (e.g. theme, symbolism, satire, etc.) really need to grab one of his stories.
As for Billy and the Cloneasaurus, Mr. Kozeniewski plunges the reader into what most will deem a dystopian future, where clones have taken the place of typical human beings. As many dystopian-esque stories do, time becomes one of the largest internal and external conflicts in the piece. Consequently, I really liked a lot of the object symbolism this book provides—everything from a typical time piece, to a watch that looks standard but is made with high-end steel and crystal and only worn by aristocracy, to a decanting bank with slurry machine that recycles bodies per a carefully scripted time schedule for cannibalistic purposes. All of the aforesaid tie directly into the thread of time and segue deeper into motifs like age discrimination, maintaining the status quo, and the fragility of life.
An intelligent look into the miniscule window of life, this novel initially circumvents the competition by reminding readers of the reality of chance circumstance. But as shrewd and crafty authors are wont to do, Mr. Kozeniewski will spin the aforementioned into an ironic twist deeper into the book, enjoyably catching readers off guard.
Readers who have a penchant for transcendentalist literature will enjoy some of the carpe diem sentiment underlying this book. Here is one of my favorite quotes from the novel:
“790—the new, the old, the original, the replacement, the only one left, and the only one there would ever be again, he vowed silently to himself—clenched the watch of the poor, useless, one-day old dead kid in his hand. He vowed that, from that day forth, he would never be forced into the role that had been pre-assigned for him. He would think outside the boundaries of what he had been told he could accomplish. He would finally be an individual, and honor his replacement’s memory.”
The transcendentalist philosophy rings true as the book’s protagonist, Billy, decides he will buck the trend of the typical 365-day life span of a clone. Hence, the fiber of Billy’s day-to-day routine will be tested as he pushes beyond the acceptable 1984-style limits of Williamerica.
Some readers may struggle with the substitution of names for numbers, but about one-third of the way into the read the characters blend seamlessly into memory. In addition there’s some “Heinz” 57 number symbolism readers will undoubtedly discover and find charming towards the end of the book. With that being said, the first part of Billy and the Cloneasaurus was a little slow for my liking; subsequently, the horror element is extremely subtle. Personally, I like subtle, but I wish the complications and crises entrenched in the story’s rising action would have been a little more profound. As for the book’s title, I’m just going to plead the Bart Simpson—“Aww Man.” Finally, the dialogue between the “William” clones grows somewhat distracting and tiresome as the author’s constructed dialect reads somewhat forced at times, but since this is futuristic pop fiction, maybe that was the intention.
But honestly, who doesn’t like a big old fat satire? Readers who appreciate understated political criticism will enjoy rooting against The Corporation, a government creating FEAR to drive capitalism inside its own borders (this never happens in real life now, does it…sigh). And finally once the reader gets to the halfway point of the story, some mad scientist monster-making takes place. It doesn’t take the reader long to realize that the newly introduced character Wilson has Dr. Frankenstein Complex, which takes the second half of the book into an interesting direction.
The ending was satisfying yet a little too cute for me. I always applaud an unhappy ending of sorts, and I equally understand the purposely satiric action made on the last page; it just didn’t do it for me. But not to worry as horror wears many different hats, and there are plenty of disturbing occurrences flanking the reader from all ends towards the end of the novel. This may not be a traditional read for gore hounds, but plenty of disconcerting scenes, ready to satisfy aficionados of shock and revulsion, are evident.
All in all, this was another pleasurable and intellectual read from a writer who continues to make a name among the ranks of excellent up-and-coming speculative fiction authors.
3.5 out of 5 cigars
A Ginger Nuts of Horror Book Review (completed by reviewer Kurt Schuett)
A house of severed heads on hooks…alliteration and imagery packed into one line, so what’s not to like?
Initially, the reader is introduced to Brennan Wade, an Adonis of a man seemingly caught in a web of mysterious confusion—reality is a bonafide illusion, and Brennan is being held captive and tested like a homicidal lab rat on steroids.
The conflict presented in the exposition of this story is deeper than originally expected, as the ancient duality of life presents itself—Good versus Evil. The reader becomes privy to the realization that Brennan Wade is part of something much larger and more sinister, but luckily for him his “black sheep” reject status, combined with some help from two “adoptive” parental figures, safeguards his survival through childhood and adolescence. Ironically, Brennan’s next antidote might stem from a cloned brother named Thomas he never superficially realized even existed.
Thomas, an unlikely antihero turned Hans Solo due to a spiritual reawakening, spends much of the novel doing damage control, trying to make up for the sins committed during his first eight lives. Consequently, most readers will likely fall for Thomas as he displays a complex blend of everyman characteristics bound with trained killer instincts. The reader will be left with a few open-ended questions concerning Thomas, but I’m quite certain the next book in the series will provide some justification.
Readers will meet Joan midway through the book, and she is a survivor by all accounts. She’s smart, witty, and tough; Joan eventually segues into a love interest with Brennan that fortifies itself throughout the story’s rising action, climax, and resolution. Honestly, I’m not a fan of traditional romance in thriller-esque horror stories, but I know there is a huge following for this sort of thing. Consequently, I’m sure many readers will be drawn to it. As for me I’d rather read the gritty “what ifs” when love interests never really solidify.
Literarily speaking, this story has a lot going for it. In addition to the aforementioned comments concerning the thematic inclusion of dualism, author Ryan McSwain incorporates several allegorical elements and lots of embedded color symbolism. Hence, Monsters All the Way Down is much more than a mere pop fiction read. The antagonist cited as the Old Man is cryptically old, and the historical allusions connected to him are of paramount interest. Plus, the Old Man’s behaviors, thought processes, flashbacks, and lineage make him directly representative of Old Scratch. It doesn’t take the reader long to discover he is more than just a soul-sucker, and his omniscient qualities spearhead a cacophony of fear into all his victims, both past and present.
Personally, I’d say the horror elements presented in this first installment of what author Ryan McSwain titles a “loose” trilogy are a complex blend of Lovecraft meets King. Based on the title readers should expect monsters, and Mr. McSwain does an excellent job of presenting them both literally and figuratively. This isn’t the type of read that provides an overabundance of shotgun pumping in advance of exploding heads, and I really appreciated that. Oftentimes, the fear is subtly crafted, but the realization that people are sometimes hunted while their heads are severed and kept as trophies is deliciously frightening. Why? Because things like that happen from time to time in our sordid world. For those readers who crave literal monsters, they will have to wait closer towards the book’s end. But rest assured, for all the plain and unvarnished monster lovers out there, Mr. McSwain will satisfy your appetites per his final series of combat scenes. And wait, the weapon of choice in this book is truly unique—the garrote. And trust me when I say the garrote rears its ugly head (bad pun intended) time and time again for all you gore hounds out there.
Part Dexter in The Dark Tower meets It, and part Supernatural meets “Bat Out of Hell,” readers will undoubtedly look over their shoulders while reading this book. Only time will tell if God will indeed bless Texas, and paranoia often strikes thrice; hence, I’m looking forward to books two and three in author Ryan McSwain’s trilogy.
4 out of 5 cigars
A house of severed heads on hooks…alliteration and imagery packed into one line, so what’s not to like?
Initially, the reader is introduced to Brennan Wade, an Adonis of a man seemingly caught in a web of mysterious confusion—reality is a bonafide illusion, and Brennan is being held captive and tested like a homicidal lab rat on steroids.
The conflict presented in the exposition of this story is deeper than originally expected, as the ancient duality of life presents itself—Good versus Evil. The reader becomes privy to the realization that Brennan Wade is part of something much larger and more sinister, but luckily for him his “black sheep” reject status, combined with some help from two “adoptive” parental figures, safeguards his survival through childhood and adolescence. Ironically, Brennan’s next antidote might stem from a cloned brother named Thomas he never superficially realized even existed.
Thomas, an unlikely antihero turned Hans Solo due to a spiritual reawakening, spends much of the novel doing damage control, trying to make up for the sins committed during his first eight lives. Consequently, most readers will likely fall for Thomas as he displays a complex blend of everyman characteristics bound with trained killer instincts. The reader will be left with a few open-ended questions concerning Thomas, but I’m quite certain the next book in the series will provide some justification.
Readers will meet Joan midway through the book, and she is a survivor by all accounts. She’s smart, witty, and tough; Joan eventually segues into a love interest with Brennan that fortifies itself throughout the story’s rising action, climax, and resolution. Honestly, I’m not a fan of traditional romance in thriller-esque horror stories, but I know there is a huge following for this sort of thing. Consequently, I’m sure many readers will be drawn to it. As for me I’d rather read the gritty “what ifs” when love interests never really solidify.
Literarily speaking, this story has a lot going for it. In addition to the aforementioned comments concerning the thematic inclusion of dualism, author Ryan McSwain incorporates several allegorical elements and lots of embedded color symbolism. Hence, Monsters All the Way Down is much more than a mere pop fiction read. The antagonist cited as the Old Man is cryptically old, and the historical allusions connected to him are of paramount interest. Plus, the Old Man’s behaviors, thought processes, flashbacks, and lineage make him directly representative of Old Scratch. It doesn’t take the reader long to discover he is more than just a soul-sucker, and his omniscient qualities spearhead a cacophony of fear into all his victims, both past and present.
Personally, I’d say the horror elements presented in this first installment of what author Ryan McSwain titles a “loose” trilogy are a complex blend of Lovecraft meets King. Based on the title readers should expect monsters, and Mr. McSwain does an excellent job of presenting them both literally and figuratively. This isn’t the type of read that provides an overabundance of shotgun pumping in advance of exploding heads, and I really appreciated that. Oftentimes, the fear is subtly crafted, but the realization that people are sometimes hunted while their heads are severed and kept as trophies is deliciously frightening. Why? Because things like that happen from time to time in our sordid world. For those readers who crave literal monsters, they will have to wait closer towards the book’s end. But rest assured, for all the plain and unvarnished monster lovers out there, Mr. McSwain will satisfy your appetites per his final series of combat scenes. And wait, the weapon of choice in this book is truly unique—the garrote. And trust me when I say the garrote rears its ugly head (bad pun intended) time and time again for all you gore hounds out there.
Part Dexter in The Dark Tower meets It, and part Supernatural meets “Bat Out of Hell,” readers will undoubtedly look over their shoulders while reading this book. Only time will tell if God will indeed bless Texas, and paranoia often strikes thrice; hence, I’m looking forward to books two and three in author Ryan McSwain’s trilogy.
4 out of 5 cigars
Books I Have Reviewed
Operation Z-Day by Dennis F. Larsen
The first bravo I wish to extend to author Dennis Larsen is job well done in the creation of a strong female protagonist, Raven Falconer. I realize the recent trend and popularity in creating female protagonists in the action-adventure genre, especially in the apocalypse-dystopian sub-genre, but too many of the zombie-apocalypse stories available to readers lack strong female protagonists. And since this particular one happens to be a writer, I really connected well with her. One of my favorite quotes in the novel states, “An author’s ability to create, as well as destroy, had left a lasting impression with the young Raven, and she'd held nothing back in expressing her desires to her father.” The aforementioned quote is a powerful indication of not only the main character’s resilience but also of a thematic link all readers can equally relate to. Consequently, Dr. Larsen has also constructed a strong group of secondary characters that motivate, fortify, and extend the actions of the book’s protagonist, Raven—close friends and roommates to the bitter end, Bobi, Mick, and Hannah.
One of Dr. Larsen’s strengths as a writer is his ability to characterize, as I’m quite certain all of his readers will agree. Personally, I enjoyed the lead-up through Operation Z-Day’s rising action, especially when the reader was able to become more intimate with the thoughts, actions, and dialogue presented from the primary cast’s varying backgrounds and perspectives. One of my favorite introductions was to that of Ziggy, a colorful police officer who will undoubtedly play a more significant role per book two of The Raven Falconer Chronicles.
One aspect I hope readers don’t misinterpret as a caveat is the book’s length. Even though Operation Z-Day is on the shorter side, the story has multiple plots running through it. Yes, the crux may be an unconventional zombie apocalypse due to an airborne virus, but the author underlies the aforesaid with Raven’s internal conflict—a crucible of individualistic proportions. Raven must trade in her selfless optimism for realistic gut-wrenching self-preservation. As author Dennis Larsen personifies her as a “fiercely independent survivor,” Raven Falconer is a force to be reckoned with.
Since this story takes place in real-time Canada, that was another fantastic wrinkle I enjoyed; Mr. Larsen accentuated the experience with quality local color realism, highlighted with dialect and mannerisms that are characteristic of life above the United States’ northern border. Other things most readers should find appealing include Larsen’s creation of cannibalistic “huskers” (readers will have to digest the book in order to truly appreciate this label) who take on the role of uncharacteristic undead, able to hold onto some familiar memories and feelings while capable of methodical and systematic plotting.
Most of the horror element in this book is subtle, but what smash-and-dash violence that is provided is detailed and exciting. Subsequently, Larsen’s pacing is spot-on as he provides enough complications and crises that are not even zombie-related to keep readers on their toes.
The only forewarning I would extend is to readers who hold enmity toward overly-sympathetic threads, as this particular book has a few that border cliché. Even with that said, readers who enjoy this particular genre undoubtedly expect some degree of formula, which may in fact work towards the author’s advantage in terms of book sales.
If you are looking for a solidly written and fast-paced apocalyptic read, look no further than Operation Z-Day. At .99 cents per e-book, this is a solid investment that should hook you into reading its sequel.
4 out of 5 cigars
The first bravo I wish to extend to author Dennis Larsen is job well done in the creation of a strong female protagonist, Raven Falconer. I realize the recent trend and popularity in creating female protagonists in the action-adventure genre, especially in the apocalypse-dystopian sub-genre, but too many of the zombie-apocalypse stories available to readers lack strong female protagonists. And since this particular one happens to be a writer, I really connected well with her. One of my favorite quotes in the novel states, “An author’s ability to create, as well as destroy, had left a lasting impression with the young Raven, and she'd held nothing back in expressing her desires to her father.” The aforementioned quote is a powerful indication of not only the main character’s resilience but also of a thematic link all readers can equally relate to. Consequently, Dr. Larsen has also constructed a strong group of secondary characters that motivate, fortify, and extend the actions of the book’s protagonist, Raven—close friends and roommates to the bitter end, Bobi, Mick, and Hannah.
One of Dr. Larsen’s strengths as a writer is his ability to characterize, as I’m quite certain all of his readers will agree. Personally, I enjoyed the lead-up through Operation Z-Day’s rising action, especially when the reader was able to become more intimate with the thoughts, actions, and dialogue presented from the primary cast’s varying backgrounds and perspectives. One of my favorite introductions was to that of Ziggy, a colorful police officer who will undoubtedly play a more significant role per book two of The Raven Falconer Chronicles.
One aspect I hope readers don’t misinterpret as a caveat is the book’s length. Even though Operation Z-Day is on the shorter side, the story has multiple plots running through it. Yes, the crux may be an unconventional zombie apocalypse due to an airborne virus, but the author underlies the aforesaid with Raven’s internal conflict—a crucible of individualistic proportions. Raven must trade in her selfless optimism for realistic gut-wrenching self-preservation. As author Dennis Larsen personifies her as a “fiercely independent survivor,” Raven Falconer is a force to be reckoned with.
Since this story takes place in real-time Canada, that was another fantastic wrinkle I enjoyed; Mr. Larsen accentuated the experience with quality local color realism, highlighted with dialect and mannerisms that are characteristic of life above the United States’ northern border. Other things most readers should find appealing include Larsen’s creation of cannibalistic “huskers” (readers will have to digest the book in order to truly appreciate this label) who take on the role of uncharacteristic undead, able to hold onto some familiar memories and feelings while capable of methodical and systematic plotting.
Most of the horror element in this book is subtle, but what smash-and-dash violence that is provided is detailed and exciting. Subsequently, Larsen’s pacing is spot-on as he provides enough complications and crises that are not even zombie-related to keep readers on their toes.
The only forewarning I would extend is to readers who hold enmity toward overly-sympathetic threads, as this particular book has a few that border cliché. Even with that said, readers who enjoy this particular genre undoubtedly expect some degree of formula, which may in fact work towards the author’s advantage in terms of book sales.
If you are looking for a solidly written and fast-paced apocalyptic read, look no further than Operation Z-Day. At .99 cents per e-book, this is a solid investment that should hook you into reading its sequel.
4 out of 5 cigars
Caterina's Journey: An Italian-American Immigration Story by Maryann Pisano
Author Maryann Pisano has created a beautifully written children's story, capturing the heart and soul of the immigrant journey from Italy to America. What I really respect about this children's book is the honesty it portrays. For instance, Ms. Pisano doesn't pull any punches in regard to some of the adversities little Caterina and her family had to overcome. Case in point the protagonist, Caterina Tolitano, wasn't even welcomed and supported at her first American school experience. Both her teacher and other classmates alienated her, but the little girl was undeterred as her tenacity and steadfastness pushed her to learn her new country's language.
For the protagonist and her family, their perseverance paid off, which I believe to be an important thematic link for all children. Consequently, the author did a fantastic job illustrating an equal amount of love and respect for both one's mother country and for one's newly adopted nation.
This is an exciting duo between Ms. Maryann Pisano the writer and her counterpart, Ms. Lisa Lucchese, the illustrator. Well done, ladies, and I look forward to reading your next collaborative effort.
5 out of 5 pacifiers
Author Maryann Pisano has created a beautifully written children's story, capturing the heart and soul of the immigrant journey from Italy to America. What I really respect about this children's book is the honesty it portrays. For instance, Ms. Pisano doesn't pull any punches in regard to some of the adversities little Caterina and her family had to overcome. Case in point the protagonist, Caterina Tolitano, wasn't even welcomed and supported at her first American school experience. Both her teacher and other classmates alienated her, but the little girl was undeterred as her tenacity and steadfastness pushed her to learn her new country's language.
For the protagonist and her family, their perseverance paid off, which I believe to be an important thematic link for all children. Consequently, the author did a fantastic job illustrating an equal amount of love and respect for both one's mother country and for one's newly adopted nation.
This is an exciting duo between Ms. Maryann Pisano the writer and her counterpart, Ms. Lisa Lucchese, the illustrator. Well done, ladies, and I look forward to reading your next collaborative effort.
5 out of 5 pacifiers
Disease by M.F. Wahl
Wahl has created a story that is part Dr. Sleep meets The Walking Dead meets The Following, and I applaud this book’s construction of a powerful female antagonist. In addition, the author isn’t afraid to muddy the waters by allowing bad things to happen to good people, so this gives a more realistic element of fear to the story line.
M.F. Wahl opens up the debut serialized novel Disease with plenty of action right from the get-go. The story begins with a surrogate mother named Casey and an adopted, seemingly autistic boy named Alex, attempting to survive the fallout from the first wave of the apocalypse. A handful of subtle characterizations of Alex are sprinkled throughout the book, like his fascination with faucets; hence, the aforesaid is one of Wahl’s strongest attributes as a writer. Events transpire quickly, and the two are eventually discovered from a hunting party that brings them back to their cult-like camp and Delphic leader, Lot. The reader is introduced to Danny, a world-beater of his own accord who softens for both Casey and the boy, Alex. Ironically, Danny is also a favorite of the female cult leader, Lot. M.F. Wahl intertwines an interesting love triangle, mixing a conglomeration of paternalistic, romantic, and speculative love interests that course throughout the novel as a secondary plot line.
In reference to M.F. Wahl’s embracing of smash-and-dash zombie action, any reader should have his or her fill with the ultra-descriptive fight scenes that infuse this novel.
“Another creature breaks through the bush. Shit. Danny charges the creature. Two more appear.
The bat rips away half of a ghoul’s decomposing face. Its head splits like a boiled peanut casing, exposing a black, gummied brain. The creature turns to chase Danny.
Without its protective skull, the thing’s brain sloshes around, drooping halfway out of its head, tethered only by a flimsy brainstem. Danny brings the bat down on the dark, jellied blob. He closes his eyes against the explosion of chunky black bits. The thing’s body falls to the ground in mid-step.”
If I have any caveats about Disease, it wouldn’t be due to a lack of action; instead, it would be the overly descriptive and repetitive nature of zombie slaying in the somewhat un-ending forest scenes. The incorporation of the hotel headquarters and a Swiss Family Robinson tree house help to break the monotony, but the zombie attacks become somewhat archaic and played-out. Sometimes, less is more, and the power of subtlety in leaving something to the reader’s imagination is important. Consequently, Wahl’s editors didn’t do the writer justice as more than a handful of simple editing mistakes were evident in the e-book edition*. I would hope any editor would make restitution of this by offering an updated second edition at no cost to the writer because this book has some serious potential. The end of the novel will satisfy the reader enough to anticipate the next serial in this series.
Bottom line, this is a story of survival chock full of colorful characters and plenty of brain-splitting action. If you need your apocalyptic fix fed with a side of brainstem fluid, M.F. Wahl’s Disease would be a good choice, especially since you can purchase it in serialized doses.
*Editor’s Note: The reviewer received an advance copy, which may contain uncorrected errors not present in the final version.
3.5 out of 5 cigars
Wahl has created a story that is part Dr. Sleep meets The Walking Dead meets The Following, and I applaud this book’s construction of a powerful female antagonist. In addition, the author isn’t afraid to muddy the waters by allowing bad things to happen to good people, so this gives a more realistic element of fear to the story line.
M.F. Wahl opens up the debut serialized novel Disease with plenty of action right from the get-go. The story begins with a surrogate mother named Casey and an adopted, seemingly autistic boy named Alex, attempting to survive the fallout from the first wave of the apocalypse. A handful of subtle characterizations of Alex are sprinkled throughout the book, like his fascination with faucets; hence, the aforesaid is one of Wahl’s strongest attributes as a writer. Events transpire quickly, and the two are eventually discovered from a hunting party that brings them back to their cult-like camp and Delphic leader, Lot. The reader is introduced to Danny, a world-beater of his own accord who softens for both Casey and the boy, Alex. Ironically, Danny is also a favorite of the female cult leader, Lot. M.F. Wahl intertwines an interesting love triangle, mixing a conglomeration of paternalistic, romantic, and speculative love interests that course throughout the novel as a secondary plot line.
In reference to M.F. Wahl’s embracing of smash-and-dash zombie action, any reader should have his or her fill with the ultra-descriptive fight scenes that infuse this novel.
“Another creature breaks through the bush. Shit. Danny charges the creature. Two more appear.
The bat rips away half of a ghoul’s decomposing face. Its head splits like a boiled peanut casing, exposing a black, gummied brain. The creature turns to chase Danny.
Without its protective skull, the thing’s brain sloshes around, drooping halfway out of its head, tethered only by a flimsy brainstem. Danny brings the bat down on the dark, jellied blob. He closes his eyes against the explosion of chunky black bits. The thing’s body falls to the ground in mid-step.”
If I have any caveats about Disease, it wouldn’t be due to a lack of action; instead, it would be the overly descriptive and repetitive nature of zombie slaying in the somewhat un-ending forest scenes. The incorporation of the hotel headquarters and a Swiss Family Robinson tree house help to break the monotony, but the zombie attacks become somewhat archaic and played-out. Sometimes, less is more, and the power of subtlety in leaving something to the reader’s imagination is important. Consequently, Wahl’s editors didn’t do the writer justice as more than a handful of simple editing mistakes were evident in the e-book edition*. I would hope any editor would make restitution of this by offering an updated second edition at no cost to the writer because this book has some serious potential. The end of the novel will satisfy the reader enough to anticipate the next serial in this series.
Bottom line, this is a story of survival chock full of colorful characters and plenty of brain-splitting action. If you need your apocalyptic fix fed with a side of brainstem fluid, M.F. Wahl’s Disease would be a good choice, especially since you can purchase it in serialized doses.
*Editor’s Note: The reviewer received an advance copy, which may contain uncorrected errors not present in the final version.
3.5 out of 5 cigars
Braineater Jones by Stephen Kozeniewski
First and foremost, let me applaud Mr. Stephen Kozeniewski on a beautifully written, seamlessly-paced debut novel. His descriptiveness is showcased and compounded in large part by well-crafted sentence structure as he sprinkles compound, complex, and compound-complex sentences throughout his genre-fiction piece. The aforesaid is something that is often missing in horror and, more specifically, zombie fiction. It’s refreshing to read something so structurally sound, especially in this particular fictional genre.
The fact that this story is an unconventional zombie tale is truly one of its greatest strengths. The story’s protagonist, Braineater Jones, is for lack of a better label, a zombie detective, who attempts to fight against identity labeling in the afterlife. Braineater accomplishes the aforementioned through a variety of interesting feats and journeys, racking up small victories and making a difference in the lives, or lack thereof, of many undead acquaintances. He accomplishes these side missions in transit as he attempts to discover the answer to his own essential question—who am I? Upon further reflection, the reader quickly notices that a major underlying theme of this novel circumnavigates identity and its role in society. The tongue-and-cheek parody Mr. Kozeniewski provides on the socio-demographic functions in society is not only tolerable, it’s believably hilarious. Consequently, the use of local color truly adds to this piece since it is set in an urban 1930s backdrop that’s dripping with curious dialect and dated dress and mannerisms.
Braineater Jones may not have as much smash-and-dash as the typical zombie-apocalypse novel, but there is more than enough intricately placed gore and violence to quench the appetites of horror hounds. The text is also rich with both historical and literary allusions, which in turn makes it a delicious read for brainiac fact-finders and intellectual snobs like me.
If you want a developed yet fast-paced read that combines crime noir with uncharacteristic zombie fiction, look no further than Braineater Jones. And come on, it was even dedicated to Neil Diamond, as Mr. Kozeniewski stated, “our nation’s greatest treasure.”
5 out of 5 cigars
First and foremost, let me applaud Mr. Stephen Kozeniewski on a beautifully written, seamlessly-paced debut novel. His descriptiveness is showcased and compounded in large part by well-crafted sentence structure as he sprinkles compound, complex, and compound-complex sentences throughout his genre-fiction piece. The aforesaid is something that is often missing in horror and, more specifically, zombie fiction. It’s refreshing to read something so structurally sound, especially in this particular fictional genre.
The fact that this story is an unconventional zombie tale is truly one of its greatest strengths. The story’s protagonist, Braineater Jones, is for lack of a better label, a zombie detective, who attempts to fight against identity labeling in the afterlife. Braineater accomplishes the aforementioned through a variety of interesting feats and journeys, racking up small victories and making a difference in the lives, or lack thereof, of many undead acquaintances. He accomplishes these side missions in transit as he attempts to discover the answer to his own essential question—who am I? Upon further reflection, the reader quickly notices that a major underlying theme of this novel circumnavigates identity and its role in society. The tongue-and-cheek parody Mr. Kozeniewski provides on the socio-demographic functions in society is not only tolerable, it’s believably hilarious. Consequently, the use of local color truly adds to this piece since it is set in an urban 1930s backdrop that’s dripping with curious dialect and dated dress and mannerisms.
Braineater Jones may not have as much smash-and-dash as the typical zombie-apocalypse novel, but there is more than enough intricately placed gore and violence to quench the appetites of horror hounds. The text is also rich with both historical and literary allusions, which in turn makes it a delicious read for brainiac fact-finders and intellectual snobs like me.
If you want a developed yet fast-paced read that combines crime noir with uncharacteristic zombie fiction, look no further than Braineater Jones. And come on, it was even dedicated to Neil Diamond, as Mr. Kozeniewski stated, “our nation’s greatest treasure.”
5 out of 5 cigars
Shark in the Water by Tom Lyons
Tom Lyons explodes onto the scene with his debut novel, a perfect blend of historical fiction, romance, family ties, espionage, and horror.
Mr. Lyons does an exceptional job of recreating historically relevant, post-World War II events that are realistic and exciting. The reader will quickly empathize with the protagonist JT and his canine side-kick, a lovably brilliant chocolate lab named Mickey, as they enter a tainted world of dark secrets and undercover activities, hoping to discover what happened to a world-renowned scientist who happens to be his father.
What author Tom Lyons does exceedingly well, especially considering this is his first book, is providing the reader with solid description and characterization, coupled with subtle elements of horror. Once the reader discovers the tiger sharks, he or she will understand what I mean. And Mr. Lyons never has to be overly gory or punch-you-in-the-mouth graphic in order to get his point across.
The incorporation of McCarthyism and the Red Scare, coupled with particular American scientists possibly selling secrets to the Russians, creates speculation of gargantuan proportions. And just when the reader thinks he has it figured out, Mr. Lyons pokes you in the heart with anecdotal evidence that suggests the emotional wounds suffered through the loss of loved ones during the war are far from being healed.
As many good writers do, Mr. Lyons will lob some situational irony at the reader that will likely make one’s head spin, but that’s what readers expect in a suspenseful mystery-thriller. The ending of Shark in the Water will satisfy yet tease the reader enough to greatly anticipate the second book in the Cold War Chronicles.
Readers who have a penchant for Dan Brown, James Patterson, and Tom Clancy will unquestionably enjoy this book, and I highly recommend it without reservations.
5 out of 5 cigars
Tom Lyons explodes onto the scene with his debut novel, a perfect blend of historical fiction, romance, family ties, espionage, and horror.
Mr. Lyons does an exceptional job of recreating historically relevant, post-World War II events that are realistic and exciting. The reader will quickly empathize with the protagonist JT and his canine side-kick, a lovably brilliant chocolate lab named Mickey, as they enter a tainted world of dark secrets and undercover activities, hoping to discover what happened to a world-renowned scientist who happens to be his father.
What author Tom Lyons does exceedingly well, especially considering this is his first book, is providing the reader with solid description and characterization, coupled with subtle elements of horror. Once the reader discovers the tiger sharks, he or she will understand what I mean. And Mr. Lyons never has to be overly gory or punch-you-in-the-mouth graphic in order to get his point across.
The incorporation of McCarthyism and the Red Scare, coupled with particular American scientists possibly selling secrets to the Russians, creates speculation of gargantuan proportions. And just when the reader thinks he has it figured out, Mr. Lyons pokes you in the heart with anecdotal evidence that suggests the emotional wounds suffered through the loss of loved ones during the war are far from being healed.
As many good writers do, Mr. Lyons will lob some situational irony at the reader that will likely make one’s head spin, but that’s what readers expect in a suspenseful mystery-thriller. The ending of Shark in the Water will satisfy yet tease the reader enough to greatly anticipate the second book in the Cold War Chronicles.
Readers who have a penchant for Dan Brown, James Patterson, and Tom Clancy will unquestionably enjoy this book, and I highly recommend it without reservations.
5 out of 5 cigars
The Breadwinner by Stevie Kopas
Stevie Kopas doesn’t waste any time in her debut novel, opening up with some pulpy deliciousness right off the bat (pun intended).
The Breadwinner begins in Franklin Woods, an upscale community in Columbia Beach, Florida, and the reader is introduced to Samson Eckhart the III, criminal defense attorney turned survivalist; the reader quickly discovers that Samson has traded in his power suits and Gucci shoes for daily scrounging and plundering, trying to provide for his family after a recent zombie apocalypse.
Throughout the early stages of this novel, the reader begins to quickly identify with not only Samson’s transparent external conflicts, but also with his internal demons, too. Some might think Samson as a leading character, primarily due to his criminal defense attorney background, is too cliché, but let me assure you he is not. Ms. Kopas surprises the reader with a very likable and genuine paternal character, the type one empathizes with and roots for throughout the entire journey.
Another lead character one will readily identify with and connect to is Veronica—a strong-willed teenager who has lost just about all one can lose, and yet still has managed to defy the odds to survive. And eventually the inclusion of Ben, Andrew, and Clyde, all unique and colorful in their own ways, blends seamlessly into this unlikely troupe of survivors, a group who will have to learn to depend on one other if they are to make it “out West.”
For the zombie enthusiast, Stevie Kopas solidly describes her undead with a strong variety of verb usage and action words, mixing traditionally slow zombies with “fresh” fast ones. Consequently, I applaud Ms. Kopas on reminding the reader throughout her novel that humans are still the most dangerous creatures on the planet.
Since this is the first book in The Breadwinner Trilogy, readers will be satisfied just enough with the ending. The reason why I say “just enough” is because you will want more; hence, Kopas delicately infuses a serialized hook into the reader’s chest, a hook that can’t be discharged until one begins reading Haven, Book 2 of The Breadwinner Trilogy.
Bottom line, if you’re looking for “in your face” zombie violence with non-stop biter conflict, this is your perfect read.
5 out of 5 cigars
Stevie Kopas doesn’t waste any time in her debut novel, opening up with some pulpy deliciousness right off the bat (pun intended).
The Breadwinner begins in Franklin Woods, an upscale community in Columbia Beach, Florida, and the reader is introduced to Samson Eckhart the III, criminal defense attorney turned survivalist; the reader quickly discovers that Samson has traded in his power suits and Gucci shoes for daily scrounging and plundering, trying to provide for his family after a recent zombie apocalypse.
Throughout the early stages of this novel, the reader begins to quickly identify with not only Samson’s transparent external conflicts, but also with his internal demons, too. Some might think Samson as a leading character, primarily due to his criminal defense attorney background, is too cliché, but let me assure you he is not. Ms. Kopas surprises the reader with a very likable and genuine paternal character, the type one empathizes with and roots for throughout the entire journey.
Another lead character one will readily identify with and connect to is Veronica—a strong-willed teenager who has lost just about all one can lose, and yet still has managed to defy the odds to survive. And eventually the inclusion of Ben, Andrew, and Clyde, all unique and colorful in their own ways, blends seamlessly into this unlikely troupe of survivors, a group who will have to learn to depend on one other if they are to make it “out West.”
For the zombie enthusiast, Stevie Kopas solidly describes her undead with a strong variety of verb usage and action words, mixing traditionally slow zombies with “fresh” fast ones. Consequently, I applaud Ms. Kopas on reminding the reader throughout her novel that humans are still the most dangerous creatures on the planet.
Since this is the first book in The Breadwinner Trilogy, readers will be satisfied just enough with the ending. The reason why I say “just enough” is because you will want more; hence, Kopas delicately infuses a serialized hook into the reader’s chest, a hook that can’t be discharged until one begins reading Haven, Book 2 of The Breadwinner Trilogy.
Bottom line, if you’re looking for “in your face” zombie violence with non-stop biter conflict, this is your perfect read.
5 out of 5 cigars
Time of Death: Induction by Shana Festa
Shana Festa's debut novel Time of Death: Induction introduces its reader to a lead female protagonist, Emma Rossi, who is one hard-nosed heroine. The thing I like about Emma is that she will appeal to both sexes as she blends the perfect amount of sincerity, humor, and toughness with clinically-trained smarts and sarcastic wit. Along with her military-skilled husband and family dog, Emma attempts to weather both a hurricane and, even more importantly, a full-blown zombie apocalypse in her Floridian hometown.
First, let me applaud Ms. Festa on her use of setting. Too often readers overlook the significance setting plays in the collective establishment of conflict, mood, and tone. This particular story could only take place in Florida. Granted, I realize Florida is more temperate than two-thirds of the United States, but opening this story during a Floridian October was spot-on; consequently, Ms. Festa's descriptiveness and use of sensory details put the reader into a climatic environment that was highly suitable for this particular novel.
Since I grew up with a nurse-midwife (and eventually, a medical CEO) as a mother, I can say Ms. Festa's use of "hospital-speak" was right on target. I hope readers take the time to fully digest her constructed dialogue because her underlying use of sarcasm is really punchy and enjoyable. And to be honest, this is to be expected and appreciated in the speculative fiction market. And something else she did that bucks the trend for many writers in this particular conglomeration of genres, she "John Steinbecked" some of her characters by allowing bad things to happen to good people. That's realistic, and I appreciate that believability whenever I read anything apocalyptic in nature.
Of course I'd never segue into a spoiler alert, but I can assure readers they will appreciate the pacing of this book all the way to its end. Upon completion, the reader will undoubtedly realize a follow-up is in the works; and as some other reviewers called Shana's ending a "cliffhanger," I'd rather refer to it as a hook. The serialization of stories is nothing new, and Shana Festa has masterfully hooked her readers into anticipating her next book.
5 out of 5 cigars
Shana Festa's debut novel Time of Death: Induction introduces its reader to a lead female protagonist, Emma Rossi, who is one hard-nosed heroine. The thing I like about Emma is that she will appeal to both sexes as she blends the perfect amount of sincerity, humor, and toughness with clinically-trained smarts and sarcastic wit. Along with her military-skilled husband and family dog, Emma attempts to weather both a hurricane and, even more importantly, a full-blown zombie apocalypse in her Floridian hometown.
First, let me applaud Ms. Festa on her use of setting. Too often readers overlook the significance setting plays in the collective establishment of conflict, mood, and tone. This particular story could only take place in Florida. Granted, I realize Florida is more temperate than two-thirds of the United States, but opening this story during a Floridian October was spot-on; consequently, Ms. Festa's descriptiveness and use of sensory details put the reader into a climatic environment that was highly suitable for this particular novel.
Since I grew up with a nurse-midwife (and eventually, a medical CEO) as a mother, I can say Ms. Festa's use of "hospital-speak" was right on target. I hope readers take the time to fully digest her constructed dialogue because her underlying use of sarcasm is really punchy and enjoyable. And to be honest, this is to be expected and appreciated in the speculative fiction market. And something else she did that bucks the trend for many writers in this particular conglomeration of genres, she "John Steinbecked" some of her characters by allowing bad things to happen to good people. That's realistic, and I appreciate that believability whenever I read anything apocalyptic in nature.
Of course I'd never segue into a spoiler alert, but I can assure readers they will appreciate the pacing of this book all the way to its end. Upon completion, the reader will undoubtedly realize a follow-up is in the works; and as some other reviewers called Shana's ending a "cliffhanger," I'd rather refer to it as a hook. The serialization of stories is nothing new, and Shana Festa has masterfully hooked her readers into anticipating her next book.
5 out of 5 cigars
Dustball Air by Kenneth M. Schuett
Come on, now. This is my brother, so I'm gonna throw 5 stars at him since it's his debut novel! But seriously, if you're big into Final Fantasy Steamship Style, check this book out. It's a debut novel, and it's self-published. Hence, the paid-in-advance grammarians at Amazon didn't do the line-editing justice; consequently, Ken would be the first to acknowledge his constant schooling in the aforesaid as he is constantly striving to improve his sentence structure. But let me say that his anti-hero Dizzy is a trip, and the somewhat constructed local color dialect will either turn you off completely or entertain you immensely. And finally, the e-book version is dirt cheap...two dollars to be precise. Oh, I forgot. He did receive an unsolicited Kirkus Review that was spot-on.
5 out of 5 cigars
The Passage by Justin Cronin
Now before I even begin, I need to preface the fact that I finished this book just before school let it for summer break (2014). With the aforesaid, I agree with all of The Passage's critics--the book is entirely too long.
Yes, I realize that creating the scope and sequence of what Justin Cronin made takes time and page numbers, but I'm quite certain he lost some readers along the way. Was it serialization, as one very prominent writer-critic penned as Dickens-esque (or something close to that) in nature? I really don't believe so; personally, I think it was simply the same process as RPG (role-playing-game) video-game creators undergo--make the world as BIG as possible because bigger is better.
Consequently, I may have conceded to the opposition in reference to the novel's Moby Dick-esque length (there's a new one for everyone, and it's not a euphemism, I promise), but I have to take a stance against some critics and their vehemently spiteful feelings concerning Mr. Cronin's use of cliched characters and dialogue. Anybody picking up this book is NOT expecting the next great American novel. Yes, the book is speculative in nature, and whenever one is dealing with vampires, more often than not its readers expect more than a handful of stock phrases, punchy dialogue, and banal characters some may find too truistic in nature. For example, some might find the Sierra-Leone-born nun and her flashback-flight/pilgrimage/escape too textbook and expected. But guess what? That's an example of something I love when reading any piece of pulp fiction, and I'd venture to say I'm not alone.
Could I sense the religious undertones running throughout The Passage? Of course, but Cronin doesn't punch you in the mouth like C.S. Lewis does, and that's appreciated.
Considering the pre-buzz created for this book, I feel Cronin delivers. If you attempt to read The Passage, hang in there because this novel does have some worthy all-star moments in it. And let's be serious, who doesn't like vamps that can outrun trains.
4 out of 5 cigars
Now before I even begin, I need to preface the fact that I finished this book just before school let it for summer break (2014). With the aforesaid, I agree with all of The Passage's critics--the book is entirely too long.
Yes, I realize that creating the scope and sequence of what Justin Cronin made takes time and page numbers, but I'm quite certain he lost some readers along the way. Was it serialization, as one very prominent writer-critic penned as Dickens-esque (or something close to that) in nature? I really don't believe so; personally, I think it was simply the same process as RPG (role-playing-game) video-game creators undergo--make the world as BIG as possible because bigger is better.
Consequently, I may have conceded to the opposition in reference to the novel's Moby Dick-esque length (there's a new one for everyone, and it's not a euphemism, I promise), but I have to take a stance against some critics and their vehemently spiteful feelings concerning Mr. Cronin's use of cliched characters and dialogue. Anybody picking up this book is NOT expecting the next great American novel. Yes, the book is speculative in nature, and whenever one is dealing with vampires, more often than not its readers expect more than a handful of stock phrases, punchy dialogue, and banal characters some may find too truistic in nature. For example, some might find the Sierra-Leone-born nun and her flashback-flight/pilgrimage/escape too textbook and expected. But guess what? That's an example of something I love when reading any piece of pulp fiction, and I'd venture to say I'm not alone.
Could I sense the religious undertones running throughout The Passage? Of course, but Cronin doesn't punch you in the mouth like C.S. Lewis does, and that's appreciated.
Considering the pre-buzz created for this book, I feel Cronin delivers. If you attempt to read The Passage, hang in there because this novel does have some worthy all-star moments in it. And let's be serious, who doesn't like vamps that can outrun trains.
4 out of 5 cigars
Harry Potter, Watch Out...This Young Wizard Swings a Shillelagh Instead of a Wand, December 18, 2014
This review is from: Beyond the Gloaming (Sebastian and the Hibernauts Book 1) (Kindle Edition)
This epic work of fantasy opens up in Sheffield, England, 1973, with the reader becoming acquainted with Sebastian, a twelve-year-old compulsive dreamer who wears the label of shanty Irish. Like most children with overactive imaginations, our protagonist Sebastian dreams of “flying, treasure hunts, and magical lands with amazing creatures.” Since the two-week Easter break is coming to an end, Sebastian is soaking up as much dream time as he possibly can. It doesn’t take the reader long to recognize why the main character loses himself in unreality as the discovery of a sibling calamity projects itself early on in the novel—Sebastian’s protector and confidant, his brother Flynn, was run over by a bus. The aforesaid really provides an uptick in the story’s rising action, especially when the reader becomes apprised of Sebastian’s cruel parents, uncomfortable home, and dismissive school life. The one thing that bothers Sebastian more than anything else is the fact that he never dreams about his deceased brother, but that answer undoubtedly lies in this book’s sequel.
Author Brendan Murphy is a master of detail, and this aforementioned trait is showcased throughout Beyond the Gloaming with his use of sensory details. Often subtle and understated, these sensory details allow the reader to deeply connect to the literature. One of the finest examples I discovered was, “Sebastian turned his pillow to the cool side and pressed his face against it.” Without a doubt, many of us complete the ritualistic flipping of the pillow each and every night, ceaselessly searching for the ideal temperature. Consequently, Mr. Murphy’s characterization is spot-on as he brings his characters to life, whether it be Sebastian’s mother and her nervous exhaustion syndrome (anxiety disorder) or the egocentric bully schoolyard kid Dean Blount and his worrisome lackey friend Wayne Wrotlesley, with their definitive dialect and local-color mannerisms.
Fans of children’s literature will love the multi-cultural diversity Author Brendan Murphy portrays, especially before the plot transitions into the fantasy world of Hibercadia. At school Sebastian is prejudiced against due to his Irish roots, as are his closest school friends (all of Indian, Pakistani, and African-Caribbean descent). Consequently, British literature enthusiasts will appreciate some of the Dickensesque sympathy as quite a dreary setting of poverty and angst is painted for the reader. Finally, historians will equally appreciate the variety of allusions packed into this book (e.g. Irish Catholic vs. English Protestant conflict), coupled with some meaningful symbolism, especially inside Hibercadia.
Author Brendan Murphy will shock his readers early on in this novel, and this particular surprise will plunge readers into a world within a world. Readers, prepare yourselves for battle swine, ogres, fairies, leprechauns, rawheads, maidens, knights, and wizards. Since the fantasy component eats up seventy-five percent of this novel, science-fiction and fantasy fans will assuredly get their fill. The ending of this book will satisfy the reader only so far as anticipating the next book in the series because even though Mr. Murphy is an Englishman living in Australia, he knows how to throw a Major League curve ball.
5 out of 5 cigars
This review is from: Beyond the Gloaming (Sebastian and the Hibernauts Book 1) (Kindle Edition)
This epic work of fantasy opens up in Sheffield, England, 1973, with the reader becoming acquainted with Sebastian, a twelve-year-old compulsive dreamer who wears the label of shanty Irish. Like most children with overactive imaginations, our protagonist Sebastian dreams of “flying, treasure hunts, and magical lands with amazing creatures.” Since the two-week Easter break is coming to an end, Sebastian is soaking up as much dream time as he possibly can. It doesn’t take the reader long to recognize why the main character loses himself in unreality as the discovery of a sibling calamity projects itself early on in the novel—Sebastian’s protector and confidant, his brother Flynn, was run over by a bus. The aforesaid really provides an uptick in the story’s rising action, especially when the reader becomes apprised of Sebastian’s cruel parents, uncomfortable home, and dismissive school life. The one thing that bothers Sebastian more than anything else is the fact that he never dreams about his deceased brother, but that answer undoubtedly lies in this book’s sequel.
Author Brendan Murphy is a master of detail, and this aforementioned trait is showcased throughout Beyond the Gloaming with his use of sensory details. Often subtle and understated, these sensory details allow the reader to deeply connect to the literature. One of the finest examples I discovered was, “Sebastian turned his pillow to the cool side and pressed his face against it.” Without a doubt, many of us complete the ritualistic flipping of the pillow each and every night, ceaselessly searching for the ideal temperature. Consequently, Mr. Murphy’s characterization is spot-on as he brings his characters to life, whether it be Sebastian’s mother and her nervous exhaustion syndrome (anxiety disorder) or the egocentric bully schoolyard kid Dean Blount and his worrisome lackey friend Wayne Wrotlesley, with their definitive dialect and local-color mannerisms.
Fans of children’s literature will love the multi-cultural diversity Author Brendan Murphy portrays, especially before the plot transitions into the fantasy world of Hibercadia. At school Sebastian is prejudiced against due to his Irish roots, as are his closest school friends (all of Indian, Pakistani, and African-Caribbean descent). Consequently, British literature enthusiasts will appreciate some of the Dickensesque sympathy as quite a dreary setting of poverty and angst is painted for the reader. Finally, historians will equally appreciate the variety of allusions packed into this book (e.g. Irish Catholic vs. English Protestant conflict), coupled with some meaningful symbolism, especially inside Hibercadia.
Author Brendan Murphy will shock his readers early on in this novel, and this particular surprise will plunge readers into a world within a world. Readers, prepare yourselves for battle swine, ogres, fairies, leprechauns, rawheads, maidens, knights, and wizards. Since the fantasy component eats up seventy-five percent of this novel, science-fiction and fantasy fans will assuredly get their fill. The ending of this book will satisfy the reader only so far as anticipating the next book in the series because even though Mr. Murphy is an Englishman living in Australia, he knows how to throw a Major League curve ball.
5 out of 5 cigars
Tom Lyons can write, and I devoured this book ..., December 11, 2014
This review is from: Manhattan Project Murders (Cold War Chronicles Book 1) (Kindle Edition)
Tom Lyons can write, and I devoured this book in readily fashion. A combination of WWII historical battle scenes meets open-water horror, The Manhattan Project Murders will keep you up at night. Consequently, the situational irony at the end of the book will ensure any reader's eagerness for Book 2 in the Cold War Chronicles, as more than a few curve balls are lobbed in the reader's direction.
5 out of 5 cigars
This review is from: Manhattan Project Murders (Cold War Chronicles Book 1) (Kindle Edition)
Tom Lyons can write, and I devoured this book in readily fashion. A combination of WWII historical battle scenes meets open-water horror, The Manhattan Project Murders will keep you up at night. Consequently, the situational irony at the end of the book will ensure any reader's eagerness for Book 2 in the Cold War Chronicles, as more than a few curve balls are lobbed in the reader's direction.
5 out of 5 cigars
This Book Will Cure The Need For You To Ever Name Your Kid, November 26, 2014
This review is from: Don't Name Your Baby: What's Wrong with Every Name in the Book (Paperback)
Another fantastic read, and a GREAT gift for friends and loved ones. Whenever Mr. David Narter spills words onto the page, it's magically witty and delightfully entertaining.
5 out of 5 pacifiers
This review is from: Don't Name Your Baby: What's Wrong with Every Name in the Book (Paperback)
Another fantastic read, and a GREAT gift for friends and loved ones. Whenever Mr. David Narter spills words onto the page, it's magically witty and delightfully entertaining.
5 out of 5 pacifiers
Before You Name Your Kid Bob, Read This Book, November 26, 2014
This review is from: The Worst Baby Name Book Ever (Paperback)
If you are looking for a highly enjoyable read that can also serve as a timeless gift for loved ones and friends, you’ve found it with Mr. David Narter’s The Worst Baby Name Book Ever. Mr. Narter’s wit is unmatched in a world of similar sub-genre books inundated with examples that are, for lack of a better phrase, “treading water” compared to those he has created. The brutal realization that the author’s research has created questions about one’s own betrothed birth name is wickedly entertaining and a little sinister, which makes for engaging conversation. Bottom line, some authors just do it better than others, and Mr. David Narter has done the aforesaid with his lively rendition of bad baby names.
5 out of 5 pacifiers
This review is from: The Worst Baby Name Book Ever (Paperback)
If you are looking for a highly enjoyable read that can also serve as a timeless gift for loved ones and friends, you’ve found it with Mr. David Narter’s The Worst Baby Name Book Ever. Mr. Narter’s wit is unmatched in a world of similar sub-genre books inundated with examples that are, for lack of a better phrase, “treading water” compared to those he has created. The brutal realization that the author’s research has created questions about one’s own betrothed birth name is wickedly entertaining and a little sinister, which makes for engaging conversation. Bottom line, some authors just do it better than others, and Mr. David Narter has done the aforesaid with his lively rendition of bad baby names.
5 out of 5 pacifiers
Broken Zombies with a Side of Sentimentality, November 17, 2014
This review is from: Broken World (Kindle Edition)
My review first appeared on The Bookie Monster (Sunday, November 16, 2014)
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
First and foremost, I congratulate author Kate L. Mary on the creation of an angry female protagonist. As the purveyors of my book reviews already know, I am not a huge fan of first-person POV, but Ms. Mary did an admirable job with Vivian Thomas, her female protagonist and California transplant.
The story opens up with six weeks of martial law due to a virus that is sweeping across the United States at a disproportionate speed. The primary plot revolves around Vivian, a former runaway teen mother turned stripper, trying to find her way back to California from Louisville, Kentucky, hoping to reunite with her four-year-old daughter Emily. Her car breaks down, and she is rescued and offered a ride from a couple of rednecks who seem to be well-equipped for dealing with a world-wide pandemic. Somewhat clichéd, yes, but Ms. Mary does a solid job of sprinkling in some well-designed local color dialect, especially when introducing the James brothers, Angus and Axl. The two aforementioned brothers bring quite a bit of “color” to the novel, and their vernacular and mannerisms are spot-on. Consequently, the reader will smile with delight once certain discoveries are made regarding a few of the characters’ names.
Author Kate L. Mary intertwines a couple of major themes throughout her novel, one of which truly resonates between the main character Vivian and the James’ brothers:
“He lets out a small sound, somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, and turns back to the fire. ‘We’re all damaged. Even them people livin’ in them fancy houses out there in Hollywood. Maybe they don’t show it as much because they got money, but they got baggage. Same as you an’ me.’”
This particular quote epitomizes one of life’s greatest equalizers, specifically in that everyone has secret haunts and skeletons in one’s closet. The fact that this story takes place during a viral epidemic turned zombie-apocalypse accelerates the aforesaid theme, becoming easily recognizable to the reader. Another possible theme that echoes throughout the read is that of the “selfish” American way of thinking:
“Things are different now. We can’t just keep looking out for ourselves and hoping for the best if we’re going to survive this thing. We’re going to have to adjust our selfish, American way of thinking and include others in our concerns. That goes for me, too. We’re going to have to learn how to work together.”
Throughout Vivian and the James brothers’ journey to California, they come into contact with other survivors, taking them in more times than not. By the time the reader reaches the story’s resolution, some of the traveling party have come and gone, but not without a few hiccups on the way. I admire the fact that author Kate L. Mary allowed bad things to happen to good people in this novel. She hasn’t graduated to John Steinbeck status, yet, but her attempt at incorporating a certain degree of realism has not gone unnoticed. The author also does a commendable job of weaving a variety of internal conflicts through the consciences of several of her characters, which in turn influences the crises and complications of the story’s rising action, making the read more enjoyable.
As for the story’s pacing, I found the first one-third of the novel slow while the last two-thirds were paced nicely. There is a lot going for this story other than the zombie component, but the undead enthusiast must know that the first zombie altercation was at the story’s 42% mark. The initial altercation was subtle, and I personally believe that was a nice touch as it worked toward the building of suspense. Per usual, the fully-functioning adult is every bit as dangerous as the undead in this novel.
The characterization of many of novel’s characters was really tight, but there were a few lapses. Readers will encounter everything from a stripper, to trailer trash, to a dating-site mogul/millionaire, to a gay music teacher who has cancer. Does the author throw a couple of curve balls? Yes, and there is zero doubt that Kate L. Mary can write and write well, but her protagonist, Vivian Thomas, especially for being a dynamic character (one who changes throughout the course of a novel), comes off flat in a few places. Sometimes, Vivian’s character seems hollow, with the exception of her sexual impulses and fantasies. But maybe this hollowness was intentional, and the reader will discover its purpose in book two of The Broken World series. Subsequently, a few plot twists and turns that happened quickly didn’t seem to affect certain characters as much as they likely would have in real life, especially considering the circumstances.
The zombies are traditional for the most part, and there is a subtle shift in their activity level during the last phase of the novel. The fight scenes are well-described, and the author does a really nice job of incorporating the sense of smell into her sensory details, a skill often lacking in most zombie-apocalypse tales.
A word of caution for the post-apocalyptic smash-and-dash fan—if you aren’t looking for a zombie story with a serious side of romance, this book is not for you. Any reader can tell that author Kate L. Mary must be an exceptional sub-genre romance writer, but if suggestively spicy romance isn’t one’s forte, steer clear. An example that illustrates this stems from an archery lesson between Vivian and her budding relationship with Axl, not long before the story’s climax:
“He grabs my hips and moves me a little, then pushes my left leg back a tad. Then steps back to study me. He purses his lips and his eyes go up and down my body. He’s not checking me out, but it still makes the hair on my scalp tingle. I can’t help picturing his muscled chest while I remember how it felt to have his hot mouth on mine. My cheeks warm. They have to be bright red…I repeat the process, getting the arrow ready and pulling back on the string. Trying to relax. Axl steps forward and once again presses his body against mine, adjusting my stance. A bulge presses against my hip that wasn’t there the first time. A thrill shoots through me. It doesn’t take a genius to know what it is…I turn around and resume my stance, raising the bow and pulling the string back. Axl presses up against me again. The bulge is even bigger than before. I try hard to ignore it, but I can’t. Suddenly it’s all I can think about. Him throwing me on the ground and screwing me right here in the middle of the shooting range. My pulse quickens and I bite my lip, trying to focus on the target. But it’s impossible. All I can think about is the hardness pressed against my hip.”
Personally, I wish the author would’ve bucked the trend and stayed away from the clichéd romantic inclusions, but I also know there is an enormous market for that; hence, I’m quite certain author Kate L. Mary has and will continue to sell a lot of books.
3.5 out of 5 cigars
This review is from: Broken World (Kindle Edition)
My review first appeared on The Bookie Monster (Sunday, November 16, 2014)
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
First and foremost, I congratulate author Kate L. Mary on the creation of an angry female protagonist. As the purveyors of my book reviews already know, I am not a huge fan of first-person POV, but Ms. Mary did an admirable job with Vivian Thomas, her female protagonist and California transplant.
The story opens up with six weeks of martial law due to a virus that is sweeping across the United States at a disproportionate speed. The primary plot revolves around Vivian, a former runaway teen mother turned stripper, trying to find her way back to California from Louisville, Kentucky, hoping to reunite with her four-year-old daughter Emily. Her car breaks down, and she is rescued and offered a ride from a couple of rednecks who seem to be well-equipped for dealing with a world-wide pandemic. Somewhat clichéd, yes, but Ms. Mary does a solid job of sprinkling in some well-designed local color dialect, especially when introducing the James brothers, Angus and Axl. The two aforementioned brothers bring quite a bit of “color” to the novel, and their vernacular and mannerisms are spot-on. Consequently, the reader will smile with delight once certain discoveries are made regarding a few of the characters’ names.
Author Kate L. Mary intertwines a couple of major themes throughout her novel, one of which truly resonates between the main character Vivian and the James’ brothers:
“He lets out a small sound, somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, and turns back to the fire. ‘We’re all damaged. Even them people livin’ in them fancy houses out there in Hollywood. Maybe they don’t show it as much because they got money, but they got baggage. Same as you an’ me.’”
This particular quote epitomizes one of life’s greatest equalizers, specifically in that everyone has secret haunts and skeletons in one’s closet. The fact that this story takes place during a viral epidemic turned zombie-apocalypse accelerates the aforesaid theme, becoming easily recognizable to the reader. Another possible theme that echoes throughout the read is that of the “selfish” American way of thinking:
“Things are different now. We can’t just keep looking out for ourselves and hoping for the best if we’re going to survive this thing. We’re going to have to adjust our selfish, American way of thinking and include others in our concerns. That goes for me, too. We’re going to have to learn how to work together.”
Throughout Vivian and the James brothers’ journey to California, they come into contact with other survivors, taking them in more times than not. By the time the reader reaches the story’s resolution, some of the traveling party have come and gone, but not without a few hiccups on the way. I admire the fact that author Kate L. Mary allowed bad things to happen to good people in this novel. She hasn’t graduated to John Steinbeck status, yet, but her attempt at incorporating a certain degree of realism has not gone unnoticed. The author also does a commendable job of weaving a variety of internal conflicts through the consciences of several of her characters, which in turn influences the crises and complications of the story’s rising action, making the read more enjoyable.
As for the story’s pacing, I found the first one-third of the novel slow while the last two-thirds were paced nicely. There is a lot going for this story other than the zombie component, but the undead enthusiast must know that the first zombie altercation was at the story’s 42% mark. The initial altercation was subtle, and I personally believe that was a nice touch as it worked toward the building of suspense. Per usual, the fully-functioning adult is every bit as dangerous as the undead in this novel.
The characterization of many of novel’s characters was really tight, but there were a few lapses. Readers will encounter everything from a stripper, to trailer trash, to a dating-site mogul/millionaire, to a gay music teacher who has cancer. Does the author throw a couple of curve balls? Yes, and there is zero doubt that Kate L. Mary can write and write well, but her protagonist, Vivian Thomas, especially for being a dynamic character (one who changes throughout the course of a novel), comes off flat in a few places. Sometimes, Vivian’s character seems hollow, with the exception of her sexual impulses and fantasies. But maybe this hollowness was intentional, and the reader will discover its purpose in book two of The Broken World series. Subsequently, a few plot twists and turns that happened quickly didn’t seem to affect certain characters as much as they likely would have in real life, especially considering the circumstances.
The zombies are traditional for the most part, and there is a subtle shift in their activity level during the last phase of the novel. The fight scenes are well-described, and the author does a really nice job of incorporating the sense of smell into her sensory details, a skill often lacking in most zombie-apocalypse tales.
A word of caution for the post-apocalyptic smash-and-dash fan—if you aren’t looking for a zombie story with a serious side of romance, this book is not for you. Any reader can tell that author Kate L. Mary must be an exceptional sub-genre romance writer, but if suggestively spicy romance isn’t one’s forte, steer clear. An example that illustrates this stems from an archery lesson between Vivian and her budding relationship with Axl, not long before the story’s climax:
“He grabs my hips and moves me a little, then pushes my left leg back a tad. Then steps back to study me. He purses his lips and his eyes go up and down my body. He’s not checking me out, but it still makes the hair on my scalp tingle. I can’t help picturing his muscled chest while I remember how it felt to have his hot mouth on mine. My cheeks warm. They have to be bright red…I repeat the process, getting the arrow ready and pulling back on the string. Trying to relax. Axl steps forward and once again presses his body against mine, adjusting my stance. A bulge presses against my hip that wasn’t there the first time. A thrill shoots through me. It doesn’t take a genius to know what it is…I turn around and resume my stance, raising the bow and pulling the string back. Axl presses up against me again. The bulge is even bigger than before. I try hard to ignore it, but I can’t. Suddenly it’s all I can think about. Him throwing me on the ground and screwing me right here in the middle of the shooting range. My pulse quickens and I bite my lip, trying to focus on the target. But it’s impossible. All I can think about is the hardness pressed against my hip.”
Personally, I wish the author would’ve bucked the trend and stayed away from the clichéd romantic inclusions, but I also know there is an enormous market for that; hence, I’m quite certain author Kate L. Mary has and will continue to sell a lot of books.
3.5 out of 5 cigars
Part Zombieland, part World War Z, and part The Walking Dead... all with a side of comedic satire., November 4, 2014
Review posted first on The Bookie Monster (November 2, 2014)
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
Honestly, the first half of this novel worked really well for me as author Jeffrey Littorno created a unique protagonist in high school English teacher turned newspaper reporter, Kevin Turner. Consequently, the story is told almost entirely from first person point of view; this is one of book’s caveats as the reader undoubtedly questions the narrator’s reliability, especially during the second half of the story, as he fuzzily slips in and out of manic episodes and possible emotionally-induced psychosis. Kevin Turner is by no means Holden Caulfield, but his “thinking out loud” episodes become somewhat unclear as the story unfolds. But even with the aforesaid, maybe this is purposeful, and quite possibly the reader will gain clarity come book two in the series. There was a subtle shift in point of view at approximately the two-thirds mark of the storyline, and it read a little clumsily as the timing and sequencing of events were a tad awkward.
The general conflict of this zombie-apocalypse novel begins at an airport in San Francisco, where the main character, Kevin Turner, schedules an interview with an airport employee to discuss an incident that had recently occurred. Events unfold quickly in and around the airport, setting the table for an exciting start to the story’s rising action. The first examples of violence and gore presented by Mr. Littorno were subtle, and I really applaud that. Oftentimes, simple and restrained violence has a more realistic and complimentary effect than overdone, clichéd brutality that screams “B-movie” quality. The harshest scenes in the book are by no means obtuse, and I believe even gore hoarders will have full bellies after reading Mr. Littorno’s fight scenes.
Even though the prose is a little rough in spots, it’s apparent that this book isn’t Jeffrey Littorno’s first rodeo since he is a master of characterization and flashback. For instance, the realistic childhood allusion to “blanket forts” as the main character reflected upon his brother was brilliant. Subsequently, a barrage of other solid methods of characterization brought the main character Kevin Turner and a few of the minor characters (e.g. wife Bonnie, Father Glen, and Detective Lawrence) to life. The inclusion of some solid figurative devices should appeal to the literary fiction fans. The metaphor of Mr. Wu’s father living through his special porridge was strange, but a variety of other examples were spot-on. For instance, this extended metaphor was one of my favorites:
“At the edge of the water next to the deck, we found a trail of ants. The black line led from a soda can next to a trash can across the dirt to the trunk of an elm tree and up into the branches. We amused ourselves by putting impediments such as rocks and moats in the path of the ants and then watching with glee as they struggled to get passed…We watched as the ants frantically streamed out of the can up the twig. Instantly, the end of the twig became a ball of wildly squirming ants. Then they were not ants.”
This particular metaphor was packed into another childhood flashback scene, and it solidly described a horde of “shells” trying to climb a detached ladder, trying to reach the main character and Father Glen as they hid on a rooftop. Another assumption I’m making is that Mr. Littorno is a funny guy as his episodes of comic relief are well placed and never grow tiresome. His characters have more “chuckles and giggles” than a laugh factory, but as mentioned previously, maybe this also plays into the reader’s questioning of the main character’s psychological state.
Even though this is a zombie-apocalypse book, readers will find some underlying themes; for instance, the role of God in the universe is a concept touched upon in a few locations. The reader will discover the “connection to the uncommon cold” through the eyes of the narrator approximately halfway through the meat and potatoes of the book. Truthfully, the first half of the story was paced really well; the second half dragged a little bit for my liking. The aforementioned rooftop scene lagged as most of its action was stale and expected. What was strong was the local color dialect and mannerisms shared between the main character and Father Glen.
The reader may find a few instances of overly dramatized sympathy, but where Mr. Littorno thrives is in his flashbacks to the up-and-down relationship between the main character and his wife. An interesting love triangle was revealed, leaving the reader to question the extent of it.
I can already tell that Detective Lawrence is going to play a significant role in this book’s sequel; readers will readily identify with this character, and my only admonition is how the good detective was brought into the story because it occurred awkwardly. Just as the pacing of this story picks up, the reader may be shocked to find it ending abruptly. Will this be deemed as a setback for some readers? Undoubtedly, it will, but if you’re a glass half-full bookworm just sell yourself on the understanding that this immediate ending should nicely segue itself into book two.
Part Zombieland, part World War Z, and part The Walking Dead, zombie enthusiasts who crave the traditional undead antagonist with a side of comedic satire should give The Most Uncommon Cold I—Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse a read.
3.5 out of 5 cigars
Review posted first on The Bookie Monster (November 2, 2014)
I received this book for free in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
Honestly, the first half of this novel worked really well for me as author Jeffrey Littorno created a unique protagonist in high school English teacher turned newspaper reporter, Kevin Turner. Consequently, the story is told almost entirely from first person point of view; this is one of book’s caveats as the reader undoubtedly questions the narrator’s reliability, especially during the second half of the story, as he fuzzily slips in and out of manic episodes and possible emotionally-induced psychosis. Kevin Turner is by no means Holden Caulfield, but his “thinking out loud” episodes become somewhat unclear as the story unfolds. But even with the aforesaid, maybe this is purposeful, and quite possibly the reader will gain clarity come book two in the series. There was a subtle shift in point of view at approximately the two-thirds mark of the storyline, and it read a little clumsily as the timing and sequencing of events were a tad awkward.
The general conflict of this zombie-apocalypse novel begins at an airport in San Francisco, where the main character, Kevin Turner, schedules an interview with an airport employee to discuss an incident that had recently occurred. Events unfold quickly in and around the airport, setting the table for an exciting start to the story’s rising action. The first examples of violence and gore presented by Mr. Littorno were subtle, and I really applaud that. Oftentimes, simple and restrained violence has a more realistic and complimentary effect than overdone, clichéd brutality that screams “B-movie” quality. The harshest scenes in the book are by no means obtuse, and I believe even gore hoarders will have full bellies after reading Mr. Littorno’s fight scenes.
Even though the prose is a little rough in spots, it’s apparent that this book isn’t Jeffrey Littorno’s first rodeo since he is a master of characterization and flashback. For instance, the realistic childhood allusion to “blanket forts” as the main character reflected upon his brother was brilliant. Subsequently, a barrage of other solid methods of characterization brought the main character Kevin Turner and a few of the minor characters (e.g. wife Bonnie, Father Glen, and Detective Lawrence) to life. The inclusion of some solid figurative devices should appeal to the literary fiction fans. The metaphor of Mr. Wu’s father living through his special porridge was strange, but a variety of other examples were spot-on. For instance, this extended metaphor was one of my favorites:
“At the edge of the water next to the deck, we found a trail of ants. The black line led from a soda can next to a trash can across the dirt to the trunk of an elm tree and up into the branches. We amused ourselves by putting impediments such as rocks and moats in the path of the ants and then watching with glee as they struggled to get passed…We watched as the ants frantically streamed out of the can up the twig. Instantly, the end of the twig became a ball of wildly squirming ants. Then they were not ants.”
This particular metaphor was packed into another childhood flashback scene, and it solidly described a horde of “shells” trying to climb a detached ladder, trying to reach the main character and Father Glen as they hid on a rooftop. Another assumption I’m making is that Mr. Littorno is a funny guy as his episodes of comic relief are well placed and never grow tiresome. His characters have more “chuckles and giggles” than a laugh factory, but as mentioned previously, maybe this also plays into the reader’s questioning of the main character’s psychological state.
Even though this is a zombie-apocalypse book, readers will find some underlying themes; for instance, the role of God in the universe is a concept touched upon in a few locations. The reader will discover the “connection to the uncommon cold” through the eyes of the narrator approximately halfway through the meat and potatoes of the book. Truthfully, the first half of the story was paced really well; the second half dragged a little bit for my liking. The aforementioned rooftop scene lagged as most of its action was stale and expected. What was strong was the local color dialect and mannerisms shared between the main character and Father Glen.
The reader may find a few instances of overly dramatized sympathy, but where Mr. Littorno thrives is in his flashbacks to the up-and-down relationship between the main character and his wife. An interesting love triangle was revealed, leaving the reader to question the extent of it.
I can already tell that Detective Lawrence is going to play a significant role in this book’s sequel; readers will readily identify with this character, and my only admonition is how the good detective was brought into the story because it occurred awkwardly. Just as the pacing of this story picks up, the reader may be shocked to find it ending abruptly. Will this be deemed as a setback for some readers? Undoubtedly, it will, but if you’re a glass half-full bookworm just sell yourself on the understanding that this immediate ending should nicely segue itself into book two.
Part Zombieland, part World War Z, and part The Walking Dead, zombie enthusiasts who crave the traditional undead antagonist with a side of comedic satire should give The Most Uncommon Cold I—Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse a read.
3.5 out of 5 cigars
As Charles Macklin stated, "Every tub must stand upon its bottom.", October 17, 2014
All the stories included in the Hell Comes to Hollywood II anthology were quite good, but I’m going to spend my time discussing Hal Bodner’s “Hot Tub,” a short work of horror fiction.
Mr. Bodner opens up his short story in first-person POV, introducing his reader to a demonic protagonist that’s trapped inside a Californian redwood hot tub. Interestingly, I am normally not a fan of first person accounts since the reliability of the narrator can easily be questioned. But even with that said, Mr. Bodner and his Poe-esque prose pulled me in. My fear is that some readers may abandon this short work of fiction a few pages in due to the story’s wordiness, but let me assure any and all future readers that this loquacious verbosity (wordplay intended) is purposeful as it establishes the narrator’s tone.
Without giving any spoilers, the plot reflects two major themes—the battle of youth versus age and the dualism of life. The unnamed protagonist plays the role of the devil while his counterpart, Jason the actor, plays Daniel Webster. As the story progresses, both parties need the other, as a twisted tale of serial killing disguised as gay lust plays itself out across Hollywood Hills. The hot tub spirit in residence influences actor/model Jason’s behavior, sometimes helping while other times hindering him. The aforesaid prompts Jason to bring tokens of cannibalistic appreciation to the story’s undead protagonist, motivating the narrator toward providing divine assistance in the securing of blockbuster Hollywood acting gigs. One of my favorite lines from the story is, “I have always had a penchant for Middle Eastern food,” and the narrator is not talking about hummus, falafel, and baba ghanoush.
Is some of the sexual terminology brash? Yes, but it’s by no means uncouth. Consequently, the violence is subtle and speculative, which makes the story line more believable. There are a handful of interesting twists and turns, which should be expected since the narrator explains, “I’d groomed him to be a star, not a serial killer.” Hence, if a reader is looking for an unconventional serial killer account with avant-garde paranormal activity, “Hot Tub” fits the bill.
5 out of 5 cigars
All the stories included in the Hell Comes to Hollywood II anthology were quite good, but I’m going to spend my time discussing Hal Bodner’s “Hot Tub,” a short work of horror fiction.
Mr. Bodner opens up his short story in first-person POV, introducing his reader to a demonic protagonist that’s trapped inside a Californian redwood hot tub. Interestingly, I am normally not a fan of first person accounts since the reliability of the narrator can easily be questioned. But even with that said, Mr. Bodner and his Poe-esque prose pulled me in. My fear is that some readers may abandon this short work of fiction a few pages in due to the story’s wordiness, but let me assure any and all future readers that this loquacious verbosity (wordplay intended) is purposeful as it establishes the narrator’s tone.
Without giving any spoilers, the plot reflects two major themes—the battle of youth versus age and the dualism of life. The unnamed protagonist plays the role of the devil while his counterpart, Jason the actor, plays Daniel Webster. As the story progresses, both parties need the other, as a twisted tale of serial killing disguised as gay lust plays itself out across Hollywood Hills. The hot tub spirit in residence influences actor/model Jason’s behavior, sometimes helping while other times hindering him. The aforesaid prompts Jason to bring tokens of cannibalistic appreciation to the story’s undead protagonist, motivating the narrator toward providing divine assistance in the securing of blockbuster Hollywood acting gigs. One of my favorite lines from the story is, “I have always had a penchant for Middle Eastern food,” and the narrator is not talking about hummus, falafel, and baba ghanoush.
Is some of the sexual terminology brash? Yes, but it’s by no means uncouth. Consequently, the violence is subtle and speculative, which makes the story line more believable. There are a handful of interesting twists and turns, which should be expected since the narrator explains, “I’d groomed him to be a star, not a serial killer.” Hence, if a reader is looking for an unconventional serial killer account with avant-garde paranormal activity, “Hot Tub” fits the bill.
5 out of 5 cigars
Resort to "Resort Living" During a Zombie Apocalypse to Survive, October 16, 2014
The second installment of The Breadwinner Trilogy, Haven, succinctly picks up where the first book leaves off. Subsequently, it doesn’t take author Stevie Kopas much time to do what she does best—allow bad things to happen to good people.
The story begins as the survivors from book one exit their rescue boat, The Dockside, for the Emerald City Resort in Haven. Additionally, it doesn’t take long for book one’s protagonist, Samson Eckhart, and his merry band (brothers Andrew and Clyde Hansen; Andrew’s girlfriend, Juliette; resident beau, Ben; and Samson’s newly “adopted” teenage daughter, Veronica) to become taken in from Gary the Brit, a Jack-of-all-trades businessman holed up on the twenty-fourth floor of one of the resort’s towers. This particular book is segmented into three sections, and author Stevie Kopas compliments part one of Haven by providing several meaningful flashbacks to Franklin Woods and the Dockside Bar & Grill, eliciting connections for all of her previous readers who are familiar with the first book in this series, The Breadwinner.
I found part one of Haven absolutely seamless, as its pacing, dialogue, and action were all well-articulated and organized. Honestly, it was one of the best expositions I’ve read in 2014, as its setting rang true to geographical location and time period, coupled with believable characters and an interesting primary conflict.
As the reader moves into the second phase of the book, I personally feel like some of the conflicts and crises in the rising action occurred a little too quickly for my liking—more time was needed to develop certain cause-and-effect relationships between tensions and characters. Consequently, a little more background information via flashback might have made a few of the new characters introduced per this section more believable. This by no means indicates Ms. Kopas doesn’t bring her characters to life; on the contrary, she has masterfully characterized the majority of both her primary and secondary characters to render quite a colorful cast of would-be survivors. And maybe some of this “needed” background information for a few of the new arrivals was withheld purposely, being reserved for the third installment in this series.
5 out of 5 cigars
The second installment of The Breadwinner Trilogy, Haven, succinctly picks up where the first book leaves off. Subsequently, it doesn’t take author Stevie Kopas much time to do what she does best—allow bad things to happen to good people.
The story begins as the survivors from book one exit their rescue boat, The Dockside, for the Emerald City Resort in Haven. Additionally, it doesn’t take long for book one’s protagonist, Samson Eckhart, and his merry band (brothers Andrew and Clyde Hansen; Andrew’s girlfriend, Juliette; resident beau, Ben; and Samson’s newly “adopted” teenage daughter, Veronica) to become taken in from Gary the Brit, a Jack-of-all-trades businessman holed up on the twenty-fourth floor of one of the resort’s towers. This particular book is segmented into three sections, and author Stevie Kopas compliments part one of Haven by providing several meaningful flashbacks to Franklin Woods and the Dockside Bar & Grill, eliciting connections for all of her previous readers who are familiar with the first book in this series, The Breadwinner.
I found part one of Haven absolutely seamless, as its pacing, dialogue, and action were all well-articulated and organized. Honestly, it was one of the best expositions I’ve read in 2014, as its setting rang true to geographical location and time period, coupled with believable characters and an interesting primary conflict.
As the reader moves into the second phase of the book, I personally feel like some of the conflicts and crises in the rising action occurred a little too quickly for my liking—more time was needed to develop certain cause-and-effect relationships between tensions and characters. Consequently, a little more background information via flashback might have made a few of the new characters introduced per this section more believable. This by no means indicates Ms. Kopas doesn’t bring her characters to life; on the contrary, she has masterfully characterized the majority of both her primary and secondary characters to render quite a colorful cast of would-be survivors. And maybe some of this “needed” background information for a few of the new arrivals was withheld purposely, being reserved for the third installment in this series.
5 out of 5 cigars
Part Robert Langdon, Part Perry Mason, Nico Moretti Is All Mystery and Suspense on the Italian Plain, August 28, 2014
If you're looking for a crime-thriller of global proportions, look no further than David Fisher's debut novel. From its inception the reader is blindsided by a ghastly murder that implicates several powerful people in Italy. The reader meets the protagonist Nico Moretti, only to discover that his law tactics resemble those of Perry Mason; hence, Nico isn't afraid to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty, even though it often causes him trouble.
Chance and circumstance play a critical role in this book, but don't think for one second the aforesaid shirks this story's plot development. Mr. Fisher's attention to detail leaves the reader feeling full as this book pushes the 400 page count.
The romantic relationships and love triangles that divulge and develop themselves throughout the novel are believable, and the characterization of both major and minor characters is spot on. As a professional courtesy to all future readers, prepare for white knuckles during this novel's climax.
Since the main character is not a detective, this work fits nicely into the crime noir genre, but the complications, crises, and conflicts are as hard-boiled as they come. Part beautiful, part romantic, part dark, and part seedy, Shadows of Darkness is well worth the investment. If you have a penchant for Dan Brown-esque books, this would be a good pick for you.
5 out of 5 cigars
If you're looking for a crime-thriller of global proportions, look no further than David Fisher's debut novel. From its inception the reader is blindsided by a ghastly murder that implicates several powerful people in Italy. The reader meets the protagonist Nico Moretti, only to discover that his law tactics resemble those of Perry Mason; hence, Nico isn't afraid to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty, even though it often causes him trouble.
Chance and circumstance play a critical role in this book, but don't think for one second the aforesaid shirks this story's plot development. Mr. Fisher's attention to detail leaves the reader feeling full as this book pushes the 400 page count.
The romantic relationships and love triangles that divulge and develop themselves throughout the novel are believable, and the characterization of both major and minor characters is spot on. As a professional courtesy to all future readers, prepare for white knuckles during this novel's climax.
Since the main character is not a detective, this work fits nicely into the crime noir genre, but the complications, crises, and conflicts are as hard-boiled as they come. Part beautiful, part romantic, part dark, and part seedy, Shadows of Darkness is well worth the investment. If you have a penchant for Dan Brown-esque books, this would be a good pick for you.
5 out of 5 cigars
