A few years ago, I was standing in the bookshop section of one of these large stores that sells everything including books, music, videos, stationery, and so on, wondering how long it was going to take my wife to decide which diary to buy. By one of these strange mischances, my eye fell on a copy of Twilight by Stephenie Meyer and, having heard it was making waves, I read the first few pages. Deciding that anything more would make me ill, I swore never to try another book featuring a romance between a vampire and a werewolf. Yet, through the quirk of fate, I find myself picking up By Blood We Live by Glen Duncan (Knopf, 2014) the third in The Last Werewolf series. With a heavy heart I note the words, “. . .a stunningly erotic love story” on the jacket flap. There are vampires and werewolves involved. I begin to read.
In the red corner, we have Remshi, the male vampire who seems to have been on the prowl for three-times the number of years the Creationists say the world has been around. In the blue corner there’s Tallula, the female werewolf (and mother of twins) who may be the reincarnated Vali — the female Remshi loved and lost in prehistoric times. Not surprisingly, once people start talking about life before the Universe was created by God, the Catholic Church gets all militant and decides it has to exterminate all nonconformist life, i.e. all the werewolves and vampires. The cynics among you may say the Catholics are only doing this as a ploy to distract the world’s attention from the paedophile scandal. But with the GOP and fundamental Christians in America getting in on the act, there may be a more general movement to protect humanity from this dangerous group of predators that has been culling our population ever since Eve made the wrong choice with the apple.
Anyway, to prove there’s nothing going on between the vampires and the werewolves, the book opens with Tallula “married” (the validity of same species marriage still has to be decided by the Supreme Court) with twins, while Remshi is living in sin with Justine Cavell (these vampires have no shame). The book then hits its stride with am extermination squad from the Catholic Church turning up to kill Remshi. Naturally, he survives with difficulty, but she’s seriously injured so he “turns” her (their love must be sufficiently strong he wants to keep her around). However, she then takes off on a revenge quest and he has to choose whether to pursue her, or find Tallula and resolve the puzzle of this dream he keeps having. Meanwhile, Tallula and family are snacking on some random humans in an isolated farmhouse when they are attacked by another of these God-squads. She and Zoe end up captured, while hubby and the son escape.
The ending is both semantically exact and emotionally affecting. As readers we always try to second-guess how the author will resolve matters. This seems particularly effective and avoids much of the mawkish sentimentality that so offends in the young adult efforts in this market. Even though the majority of the key characters are driven by love (even the Catholics are inspired by their love of Jesus), there’s a deep sense of realism pervading the development of the plot. Both vampires and werewolves need to feed on human flesh and blood if they are to survive. So both species must live with the guilt of having to kill. Indeed, at one point, Tallula as a mother confronts the possibility of eating a human baby. Fortunately, she does not have to put herself to the test, but you have the sense she would decide not to. Even though the wolf side of her personality would not have scruples, she retains an essential humanity in her capacity for compassion and love. She’s not quite the monster she sometimes believes herself to be. Similarly, Remshi finds himself increasingly overpowered by the lives of those he eats. It’s as he’s losing his capacity for absorbing their personalities, signalling a time for ending or achieving some kind of rebirth. He loves a human who becomes a vampire. But he’s distracted by a love through time. He’s been waiting centuries for Vali to return. Now he believes she has reappeared, he hopes they can be together again. Indeed, some centuries ago, there was a prophesy promising something spectacular when they got back together. This provides the dynamic as fate conspires to force a meeting and then to reproduce that dream he keeps having.
Taken overall this is a bold and quite literate example of vampire/werewolf Gothic. It’s more than apparent there’s a brain at work and this represents a fairly detailed exploration of the human/monster hybrid (both vampires and werewolves start off as humans and are then “contaminated”). Despite the drive for food as the mechanism for preserving existence, these creatures retain something of their human hearts. They and their victims share a form of existential horror at being predator and prey respectively. Although Duncan somewhat wryly points out the commercial and political opportunities for Church and governments to convince their followers that these predators exist: great reality television shows can show extermination squads at work, while politicians can sell the religious message that belief in God will keep the people safe. So although I think the reliance on Robert Browning’s “Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came” is slightly overdone as a mechanism for providing a unifying mythology, this remains a very impressive and intelligent supernatural horror novel. It’s naturally violent, as it should be, with many scenes of conflict dotted throughout the book. So one thing is clear. Those who enjoyed the Twilight series, whether as books or films, will probably be shocked and appalled by By Blood We Live. This will help them understand just how vapid and wishy-washy the work of Stephenie Meyer is, and what a horror novel for adults should be like.
A copy of this book was sent to me for review.
Every now and then, I encounter the truth behind one of the traditional idioms. In this case, I’m thinking of, “curiosity killed the cat”. To explain: working for SFBRs is a real pleasure. Every two or three weeks, the crew sends me a list of books from which to choose what to read next. I pick out authors that I know and like, together with a liberal number of anything that looks vaguely interesting. For Dark Lycan by Christine Feehan (Berkley, 2013), the feature swinging the interestometer was the fact this is the twenty-fourth in her Carpathians series. Yes, I know. The ideal is to start with volume 1 and work through as many as you can tolerate. But if you are going to jump into a series, you might as well do it with something that’s apparently selling as strongly today as it was when the first book hit the shelves way back when.
So here I am with absolutely no idea what to expect reading the first page and my hackles are rising. It seems this is one of these romance-tinged vampire/werewolf series in which the good fight the bad specimens on each side of the species divide (or when things get confused, the species mix up and produce more powerful versions of the source creature). So the first sign of trouble comes with the sheer inexplicability of what’s happening. Our heroine is Tatijana Dragonseeker and she’s currently underground, buried somewhere near her sister Branislava. It turns out this is a good thing. They have been trapped in ice for centuries. Now released, they are sleeping this minor inconvenience off by soaking in the goodness of the soil. In this half-dreaming state, the sisters have a telepathic link. They have been keeping each other company (and sane) for all these years by exchanging thoughts. At this time in their recovery cycle, Tatijana is the more alert and she decides to go visit with the locals. This involves tunnelling. She comes out close to the kind of inn low-lifes like and, guess what, propping up the bar is Fenris Dalka. A few pages later, the pair have decided they are soul mates. Because a fight is looming with some renegade werewolves who just happen to be rampaging in the neighbourhood, they put off the moment of bonding to each other for life so they can kill a few of these importunate toothy ones. Fortunately, Fenris has a brother who flies in to help and a “man” from the inn also proves to be one of the “good guys” so they do pretty well in the slaying business. This is not to say they emerge unscathed but with Fenris patching up his brother and Tatijana working her magic on the helpful one, they are soon back up to strength.
At this point, I revised my original estimate that this is a romance-tinged story. That usually means the male and female circle round each other for the book or series, and never commit. This pair have full emotional contact at the first more intimate glance (with telepathic overtones) and never look back. It’s just a case of waiting for them to say the words and get started making new Cathpathians, Lycans or mixtures depending on what you think the attributes of this pair happen to be. Well, I got as far as Fenris being outed as one of the abomination mixtures, but her family saying, “Well, you know, that’s not so bad today as it used to be.” so they decide not to kill him. Which is kind of convenient because it means the lifemating can go ahead and let no man (or any other beastie) put asunder (or something). So that leaves them free to fight together against the evil pack and their bad mix leader. Except I decide life’s just too short to attempt reading something like this, so I carefully placed it in the “read” box and picked up the next. Yes Dark Lycan is the first unfinished book of the year.
A copy of this book was sent to me for review.
Seven for a Secret by Elizabeth Bear (Subterranean Press, 2009) sees Lady Abigail Irene Garrett and wampyr Don Sebastien de Ulloa making a home for themselves in a London under German occupation. This novella is set some thirty-five years after events described in New Amsterdam. In this alternate history, Britain lost the peace and, with its king fled to America, the younger generation of the British are growing up through the education system put in place by their conquerors. The first real signs of this are now openly walking the streets wearing the uniforms of the German army. When the occupation is all you’ve known during the formative years, it’s difficult not to be a collaborator. For the record, this is not the German master race we know from our own history. It’s the Prussians who, under the leadership of a Bismarck analogue, have been grabbing European turf. Sadly, from their point of view, Russia has yet to succumb. This leads them to attempt a magical strategy. If their army could be reinforced by werewolves, this would almost certainly give them the edge when it comes to an invasion. The problem is how to resurrect the largely lost packs and, even more importantly, ensure their loyalty. It would be somewhat embarrassing if, having found a way of putting together a regiment of these beasts, they then ate all soldiers in sight, regardless of their uniforms.
It’s always convenient to read books and see only the superficial story of a British resistance movement with an undead Scarlet Pimpernel working alongside them. But that would be to completely misjudge the quality of the book. This is a book about the power of love at opposite ends of the age spectrum. From the merely old and immortal comes the tragedy of mortality. Vampires were first human and only later came to their higher status. This means they can be tempted by the emotion of love even though, to them, it’s going to be ephemeral unless they turn the object of their affection. So Sebastian is on the cusp of that bittersweet moment when his human love will die. That he’s seen nations born and die gives him perspective, but that doesn’t really change the nature of the experience each time he watches someone he cares about die. At the other end of the age and experience scale, we have two young girls on the cusp of turning into warriors. Yet, despite the psychological manipulation, they find themselves experiencing physical attraction. Further complicating matters is the question of race. One girl is Jewish and she has already assumed responsibility for infiltrating the werewolf operation so she can strike back for her people. For her, the sacrifice of herself or the others around her may become necessary if she’s to carry forward the plan.
The book therefore considers the nature of relationships when one or both parties are mayflies. Perhaps we all accept short-term satisfaction when we can place ourselves in a larger context. For Sebastian, he may lose Abigail Irene’s physical body but she will always be with him in memories. It’s the regret you cannot hold hands or kiss that will prove fleeting when all you have to do to be together again is to close your eyes. For the young lovers, it’s the natural feel to the emotions that’s so seductive. Despite the options to persuade or actually change the other person’s mind, they would never do that because it’s a betrayal of the trust they have in each other. That there’s an inherent lack of honesty in the infiltrator does not change her love. That she recognises the other may turn into an enemy the moment the dishonesty is revealed cannot stop her. She’s been honed into a weapon and she has to live with the consequences. She has a higher purpose than ephemeral love.
So Seven for a Secret is a book that features vampires, their renfields, werewolves and assorted manipulative human taskmasters. Yet it’s also about the tragedy individuals have to endure because of the circumstances in which they find themselves. The result is affecting, melancholic and rather beautiful.
For reviews of books also by Elizabeth Bear, see
Book of Iron
A Companion to Wolves (with Sarah Monette),
Range of Ghosts,
Shoggoths in Bloom,
Steles of the Sky and
The Tempering of Men (with Sarah Monette).
Dust jacket artwork is again by Patrick Arrasmith.
Box Office Poison by Phillipa Bornikova (a pseudonym of Melinda Snodgrass) (Tor, 2013) is the second urban fantasy to feature Linnet Ellery, a human lawyer employed by a vampire firm. Looking at that last sentence gives me a warm feeling. It’s always therapeutic to suggest firms of lawyers are blood-sucking vampires but, with this book having the urban fantasy label plastered on the shingle hung outside their office, this is meant literally. Werewolves and elves, who call themselves the Álfar, are also “real” and are, to a significant degree, integrated into human affairs. This takes us a step further than the Left Hand/Right Hand Magic by Nancy Collins in which a range of supernatural creatures are living among humans but their existence is largely ghettoised. Here some of the leading celebrities on the big screen are Álfar, their agents are werewolves and vampires draw up the contracts. To a great extent, this is life in the mainstream, but it’s not without its complications.
In our world, America has been built out of successive waves of immigration, but the pace has dwindled of late. Indeed, it would be fair to say America is less welcoming than it used to be and, in some quarters, actively hostile to newcomers. This is most obviously apparent in the failure of the so-called Dream Act to gain traction on Capitol Hill. Common sense says America should embrace the people already in the country, often doing the work local people refuse to do, paying taxes and sending their children to school. So this book has three different groups who live and work in human America. Obviously both vampires and werewolves used to be human. No-one is entirely sure who or what the Álfar are. But one thing is clear. These people are taking work from the “humans” and it’s time they were sent back where they came from. As a first step, a Humans First organisation is arguing for a racial law to prevent a marriage from being valid between a human and one of these “others”, cf the miscegenation laws in some US states, Nazi Germany, South Africa, etc. In other words, this book is actually a good vehicle for exploring attitudes between different groups and the pressures for positive discrimination laws to impose greater equality than the more extreme elements in human society prefers.
On the way to solving some interesting mystery puzzles about two Álfar accused of murder, we’ve got a formal arbitration which plays the legal niceties rather well. The question is pleasingly simple. When it comes to the process of casting a film, everyone puts on a show. They all want to impress during the audition. So if one group of actors can use a glamour to make themselves more attractive in face-to-face meetings with directors and producers, how qualitatively different is this from others having cosmetic surgery or corrective dentistry to make themselves look better? And then there’s the not so mythological use of the casting couch — exploitation, yes, but a price some are prepared to pay in their search for stardom and celebrity. Who’s to say what “tricks” people may play when the outcomes to the individuals involved are so important.
This is a book written by someone who has experience in Hollywood. It has a knowing quality about some of the descriptions of the characters and the places where “work” is done. So this is me reaching a fairly radical conclusion given all the dismissive things I’ve said about most of the urban fantasies I’ve read over the last couple of years. Looks around nervously and mops a brow suddenly beaded with sweat. This is highly enjoyable! There, I’ve said it. “But why?” you wail, having legitimately expected me to rip this to shreds? Well this is not your common or garden urban fantasy with a kick-ass female first-person narrator who dispatches supernatural beasties with a flick of her manicured hand while lusting platonically after some hunky male (of whatever race or species happens to be available). Box Office Poison is an excellent legal thriller that involves a range of supernatural and human people all working together to arrive at a just outcome, the American way. Ignore the crass label stuck on by the marketers. This is a superior book no matter what the cover art or blurb might otherwise suggest.
A copy of this book was sent to me for review.
Of Fever and Blood by Sire Cédric (Publishers Square, 2013) is distributed in English by Open Road. Sire Cédric has published eight titles (with another due shortly) including L’enfant des cimetières (2009) which won the Masterston prize, this book, De fièvre et de sang (2010), which won the Polar prize at the Cognac festival and the first Cinécinéma Frissons prize, and Le jeu de l’ombre (2011). From this brief history, you’ll understand this author writes about monsters, madness and, without irony intended, rock music. In his novels and short stories, he’s influenced by Clive Barker and Stephen King, having moved from a career in journalism and translation, to writing police procedurals, often with a supernatural element. Le premier sang (2012), the second in this series, has been nominated for the Grand Prix de l’Imaginaire and the Prix de l’Embouchure 2013.
Of Fever and Blood is the first of two supernatural thrillers featuring Inspectors Eva Svärta and Alexandre Vauvert. Eva Svärta is a profiler based in Paris. She specialises in cults and anything with an occult connection. We’re immediately pitched into the climax of their hunt for a kidnapped girl. Eva Svärta is assisting in a serial killer case being handled by the Homicide Unit in Toulouse where Alexandre Vauvert works. Structurally, this means the action kicks off in high gear with the pair breaking into a remote farmhouse — none of the niceties of search warrants and backup from SWAT for this pair. They are in (relatively) hot pursuit of the latest kidnapped young woman and are not inclined to let bureaucracy stand in their way. That’s why the two men found at the farm end up dead (well, probably) and the young woman is rescued. Such a good outcome allows the press to senationalise the whole episode as one involving vampires (it’s all about the blood, you see) who’ve been stopped (young women in the area can feel safer) and this positive reaction gives the senior echelons in the policing agencies the excuse to look the other way on the number of different laws broken and the deaths of the two “suspects”.
Not surprisingly, things don’t go back to normal. Just over a year later, there are two new deaths in Paris which have the same hallmarks from Toulouse. Vauvert is also tempted to return to the farmhouse where supernatural and natural events collide in a rather interesting way (technology is highly relevant here). This prompts our two characters to communicate with each other. They always were unhappy at the summary way their first case was wrapped up. Questions were left unanswered. Now’s their chance to continue the investigation. Except, of course, the two men they killed. . . Perhaps they were Renfields, working for one or more people struggling with the delusion of vampirism. Or just maybe, there’s a real supernatural issue to investigate and resolve here.
Half the interest and fun of this book is the way in which stolid police procedural meets something not covered in the standard training manuals. At one level, we’ve got the usual tropes at work. There’s the structural sexism blighting the career of Svärta. More importantly, there are some seniors officers who’ve seen some inexplicable things in their long careers and are not going to be overly critical if the new generation of officers get caught up in something similar and have to fight their way out, leaving a few bodies behind. And so on. Why should France’s finest have such latitude? Because what they find at the farm and subsequent murder scenes shows a highly organised approach to torturing the twenty-four women kidnapped (or more — keeping count may be important) and draining them of their blood. This signals the most critical failure in the initial investigation. Our heroes never did discover exactly what happened to all the blood.
All this should tell you Of Fever and Blood is a fascinatingly direct voyage into a slightly gothic version of grand guignol. The style is simple and, allowing for the usual melodramatic French sense of atmosphere, unflinching when it comes to describing the way in which the women are killed. We’re then off into slightly more conventional territory with the mythology of vampires and their companion wolves. All of which manages to capture attention early and then ride the curiosity factor through to the end. It’s a real page turner as matters grow increasingly dark for our police heroes. This is not to say the story is stunningly original. In this particular niche which, for these purposes, I’ll describe as supernatural horror and fantasy, there are only a certain number of ways in which an author can manipulate the plot elements. But the results here are carried off with remarkable élan. Given the amount of blood spilled, we’re in early Clive Barker territory. This is not to say the book or its style feels dated. Rather that it’s quite refreshing to find someone getting back to the basic craft of graphic supernatural horror. Put simply Of Fever and Blood is a riveting example of an intelligent plot and ruthlessly efficient pacing in a gore-soaked police procedural. I recommend it.
For a review of the sequel, see The First Blood.
A copy of this book was sent to me for review.
To say Shadows of the Falling Night by S M Stirling (Roc, 2013) Shadowspawn 3 is tedious is an understatement. It all starts to go wrong with the prose which is formulaic and wooden. In some hands, functionalism is a virtue because the words are the least barrier between the reader and the meaning. There’s no ornament or distraction. The author just gets on and tells the story. Unfortunately that’s not what we have here. Everything feels padded out with lots of detail about where everyone is or what everyone is wearing or eating or enjoying as art. None of it is terribly interesting in itself and cumulatively it’s just boring. I have the sense the author started off with a particular word count in mind and that’s what he wrote. What also makes the text less appealing is the S&M theme. Although we don’t quite get into the realm of soft porn, the descriptions of Monica’s domination flirt around the edges of good taste. We’ve also got a fair bit of history to wade through explaining the origin of the species and how the Shadow folk have evolved, particularly since they latched on to the Mendel and Darwin guys to go in for selective breeding.
For those of you who’ve missed the first two in this series, the Shadowspawn are an amalgam of the different supernatural beasties we’re identified as preying on us over the centuries. So think of them as predominantly vampires but with mind-control, shape-shifting and other attributes bred into the different blood lines. The other interesting feature is that they can live on beyond one body and inhabit others. Although they can be killed, most manage to endure for centuries.
As to the plot, it couldn’t be easier to describe. All the interested parties touch base in Paris. Principally that’s Adrian Brézé and his wife, Ellen, and the antagonist sister Adrienne Brézé. The children, Leila and Leon, are in the care of Eric and Chiba in Santa Fe, and all four have to get from America to Europe, joining up with Peter Boase en route. Harvey Ledbetter, his atomic bomb and his two pursuers (or not), Anjali Guha and Jack Farmer, are moving across Turkey. . . and then everyone converges on Tbilisi where The Shadow Council will decide how they are going to thin the ranks of the humans. The choice is between letting off EMPs to knock out all the modern technology and releasing one of these tailored plagues. Using bombs to destroy the technological infrastructure is messy. Worse, it’s going to leave the planet pretty irradiated which won’t kill the Shadowspawn, but it will make their lives less comfortable. There’s also the risk of atomic power stations melting down and causing all kind of other problems. The disease option keeps the technology and all the comforts it brings without the number of humans getting in the way. The problem in leaving scientific knowledge workable is that humanity is getting far too interested in trying to identify and defeat the Shadowspawn. Anticipating this growing risk, the mood is to strike first and ask questions later. Just to add a little spice to the mix, Harvey’s bomb has been factored into Adrienne’s plan. She thinks it will kill most of her competitors and leave her in charge.
So the book inches everyone forward towards the big bang (or not). People are chasing the children but who and why is not clear. This is what other people call a twisty plot, i.e. no-one has any idea what’s going on, but the author keeps giving contradictory signals as to who might be responsible. If you’re interested in guessing, you’re a real fan and will no doubt love this book. If like me, you think any plot run along these lines is as exciting as watching a car-wreck in slow-motion, you look away after the first ten seconds of the impact has taken half an hour to view and flick through to the end to see how bad the damage was. There’s fighting in different bodies including a quick rerun of 20,000 Leagues under the Sea and Moby Dick, followed by explosions of different magnitudes and something approaching a novelty to set things up for the next book should the publisher offer enough money to buy it. Personally, I would let Shadows of the Falling Night be the final book in a trilogy and hope he goes on to write something better, but there may be an army of fans out there demanding more.
A copy of this book was sent to me for review.
There are times I wish I was an expert in everything. That way, when I come across something unexpected in a work of fiction, I would know just how fictional it is. In this case, I’m happily reading an uncomfortable blend of science fiction and fantasy, and come across a plan to destabilise the world’s economy by creating a bubble in the value of gold and then puncturing it. The book describes this as a pump and dump plan but, if my understanding is correct, it would be almost impossible to apply this to a commodity such as gold. In the real world, the early months of 2009 saw the price of gold at $800 per ounce, but once we came to the autumn of 2011, it had risen to more than $1,900. This was a bubble, i.e. the price did not reflect the economic law of supply and demand. Consequently, optimistic investors were saying there was no upward limit for the price. Trying to pump a commodity trending upward is never going to have a major effect. If there’s an unexpected spike, there will be a price correction and then the underlying trend will resume. Now we’re heading back down in value, i.e. the bubble is deflating and, so far, the world’s economy has not collapsed. So it seems to me that the plan to wreck the world being advocated by the forces of evil in this book is doomed to fail without any action being required from the forces of good. They could just sit back and laugh as evil’s plan failed.
All of which brings me to this quite extraordinary collision between science fiction and fantasy. The Shape Stealer by Lee Carroll (pseudonymous team of Carol Goodman and Lee Slonimsky) (Tor, 2013) is the third in the Black Swan Rising trilogy dealing with the “love” between Garet and Will. As in all books now posing under the urban fantasy label, this must be one of these agonising relationships. She’s one of these protector figures (save the Earth!) and he’s a vampire (save me from myself!). Obviously they are made for each other but, as is always the case, there are problems (no! really? well, do tell). This problem is certainly different.
In the last book, our happy couple travelled back in time and met up with his younger self (two vampires to love are better than one). When two returned to our time, she came back with the “young” version and not the “old” one she loves (Holy cow, Batman, that’s some mistake coming back with the lusty “young” one rather than the jaded tired “old” one). This left the “old” one the chance to carry on “living” so, for the second time of asking, he exists through the four-hundred plus years to the present so the two versions of himself can be together again with the woman they love. Notice the potential for paradox here. If the “young” one travels forward in time and so doesn’t do everything he previously did as he lived through time, that rather changes the past in a big way. Indeed, when reliving the four-hundred years, the old vampire in love dedicates his existence to good, avoiding the feasting on humans as much as possible, and generally being a nice guy (Garet has really been working her mojo on this vampire). This means absolutely everything about the past gets messed up by all that good.
Sitting in the middle of all this absurdity are different interested parties. There’s a group of temporal guardians whose job it is to keep the cause and effect sufficiently in check so that any changes to the past make only minor changes to the present (ignoring the butterfly effect for these purposes). To achieve this, they sit outside current time with exhaustive records of their “past”. Whenever anything changes, one of the ledgers drops off its shelf in the library and they can quickly see what’s changed and decide whether to fix it. This temporal limbo is also used by the fey as they pass through from Earth to their “home” land (and back which is why there’s a time loss when they take humans for a visit). There’s also a dissident group of time travellers who are called Malefactors (kinda mediaeval name for the bad guys) and generally make a nuisance of themselves by squeezing themselves through the dimensions into our time like toothpaste out of a tube. All these time guardians and warring Malefactors have some very nifty technology including some advanced weaponry (presumably brought back from the future). And, finally, there’s Dr John Dee and a shapeshifting “monster” from ancient Babylon who just want to take over the world and run it their way. So, summing this up, Dr Dee and the fairies (led by Oberon) travel through time by using magic. The chrononauts have time portals and can use clockwork devices built into watches (how original) to move through time and also space (TARDIS watches are cool).
Now there are times when absurdity is a good thing, e.g. using reductio ad absurdum in a philosophical debate or as a form of mocking mirror to reality. In electing to write about time travel, authors should be applying the established rules so, through its failure, this book is what we must politely call a time fantasy where none of it makes any sense as mathematics, physics, philosophy or logic would require. This could have been a good mechanism for mocking the trope of time travel. Once you get into the question of paradox and then have to address the possibility of paraconsistency where a proposition may be simultaneously true and false, there’s great potential for humour. But this book is plodding and dull. It’s intended as a soppy romance where our heroine gets to love two versions of her imperfect man in a world dominated by magic, i.e. a world where events are completely arbitrary and fairies can teach the vampire how to rearrange his molecules in real time to avoid being injured when bullets pass through him (sorry, I mean the vampire can rearrange his molecules so that the bullets pass through him without injuring him). Instant self-repair would be absurd, right? Particularly if he was shot in the head and had to stop thinking for a moment.
So if you’re heavily into urban fantasy and have absolutely no interest in anything that makes any sense, The Shape Stealer is for you. But if, like me, you prefer there to be an underlying logic and order to a plot, you should wave your wand in a way that will send all the copies of this book back in time so it was never written and cannot now be purchased from secondhand book dealers around the world (paradoxes rule!).
A copy of this book was sent to me for review.