ARC Review — Slaying Isidore's Dragons, by C. Kennedy

5 Best friends

4 Vicious brothers

3 STD tests

2 Guys in love

1 Car bombing

&

Nowhere to run

Slaying Isidore’s Dragons follows the burgeoning love of two high school seniors during the worst year of their lives.
Irish born Declan David de Quirke II is the son of two ambassadors, one Irish and one American. He’s come out to his parents but to no one else.
French born Jean-Isidore de Sauveterre is the son of two ambassadors, one Catalan and one Parisian. His four half brothers have been told to cure him of his homosexuality.
Declan and Isidore meet at the beginning of their senior year at a private academy in the United States. Declan is immediately smitten with Isidore and becomes his knight in shining armor. Isidore wants to keep what little is left of his sanity and needs Declan’s love to do it.

5 Weeks of hell

4 Attempts on their lives

3 Law enforcement agencies

2 Dead high school seniors

1 Jealous friend

&

A love that won’t be denied

One is beaten, one is drugged, one is nearly raped, one has been raped, they are harassed by professors and police, and have fights at school, but none of it compares to running for their lives. When the headmaster’s popular son attempts suicide and someone attempts to assassinate Declan’s mother, they are thrown headlong into chaos, betrayal, conspiracy, allegations of sexual coercion, pornography, even murder. And one of them carries a secret that may get them killed.

5 New family members

4 BFF’s

3 Countries

2 Extraordinary Psychologists

1 Courageous Mother

&

A new beginning for two young men in love

*****

What a ride! What an amazing story. I’m still reeling. And so full of hope, for the future, for the future of these boys, all our boys.

In this story, as is the usual fare with Kennedy, there is action; there is no time to relax, no time to slow down, things are happening all the time, and in so many layers, it takes all my concentration to keep it together. And I love it. I just simply love it. I roll in it, I run with it. I revel in it.

I feel I know these people, already after a few chapters. It is as if I am running beside them, seeing what they are seeing, feeling what they are feeling. It is almost overwhelming. I scream, and I scare the cats. I giggle, and I wake Mr. Anna.

Kennedy must be the king of purple prose, and yet, somehow, here, it just works; it doesn’t become ridiculous, it just becomes powerful and full of awe-inspiring, foreign flavors.
And then another bomb goes off.

Why am I not surprised?

While reading until my iPad hits my face, I realize, just as I am falling asleep, that there is so much more to this story than meets the eye.

There is the careful choosing of words. The loving turn of phrase that won’t scare a potential victimized reader. Words are of such vital importance to young survivors; those of us who have never lived through abuse, can never quite understand how loaded a simple word can be.

And then there is the momentous message to abuse victims and survivors that there is a future, also for them. That there is hope for sunshine and love, in all our futures.

It is uplifting. It is caring. There is hope.

And then another bomb goes off, yeah?

This book had me sitting on the proverbial edge of my seat, jumping with excitement, smiling with bliss, and feeling the love between the two young men grow and blossom. (See? I have achieved some purple myself). I cry me an ocean, too, for good measure.

The way Declan and Isidore discover each other is beautiful, loving, enriching, sweet, and so sexy. Without ever going into the exploitative and crude, the physical love they explore is simply beautiful. They are both on the older side of their teen years, at eighteen and seventeen, thinking about their bodies and discovering a new sensuality, and the way Declan gets frustrated with his dick makes me scream with laughter. So many good feels, here, too.

There is no way I can review this book without drawing parallels to Omorphi, Kennedy’s other long novel about abused youth. The similarities are of course there, but what really strikes me is the difference between them. The main character in the first story, Christy, is a survivor of abuse. In Slaying Isidore’s Dragons, Isidore is still a victim, and he is still living with his abusers. There is such a huge difference in mindset.

Now, there is a special talent to be able to describe and write about this kind of abuse, without either falling into the exploitative, or brushing over the sad facts. Here, none of those things happen. There is truthfulness in these pages, but most of all, there is hope. Awe-inspiring Hope. It makes the reader understand what goes on inside the mind of an abuse victim.

It shatters me to see how this new life, when saved from an abusive environment, can be so overwhelming that the victim is ready to go back to the abusive home, just to get to a place where everything makes sense.

This is a book with really difficult themes, and it is striking how it can ring true in all its horrid details, while still giving hope and showing a way out. This book may very well be saving lives, and giving hope.

It is interesting how well the double POV works, where we see things mostly from the eyes of the boyfriend, Declan. I don’t think we could take seeing it all from inside Isidore’s mind, but the short interludes that we do get to see are so revealing. Thank you for showing us how completely different the same scene may seem to the victim.

Now, I also want to tell everybody about how much I adore Sorcha, Declan’s mother. She is a powerful, gorgeous, strong, beautiful, and loving woman. I love all those things in people, but I especially appreciate them when they are attributed to a woman in an m/m setting. This is finally happening more often, but I still want to say thank you for this: thank you, author, for a strong and good woman. Mothering is not easy, and she does shine a light. The fact that she was also an Ambassador in her own right, makes my heart sing. A real woman. Somebody with both a job and a career. Not only, she is also absolutely hilarious, and a good belly laugh really makes life worth living. The healing value of humor is well known, but is even more so to a victim of abuse.

It is important for me to see that the story in this book actually rings true in the ears of the intended readers, i.e. young survivors of abuse; youth who, through this novel, can visualize a potential future, a possibility of a decent life, of love, of happiness. Reading young Timmy’s review of this book, I see the story through his eyes. See his review here.

It is true. This story brings hope. It shows the path forward, it shows the possibility of future.

This is top notch.

On my Top-Read-Of-2015 shelf.

Well done, Kennedy. I just realize that I have written the word “hope” nine times in my review. That must mean something.

You pass with flying colors.

Five shining stars.

***

I received an ARC of this book from the author, and a positive review wasn’t promised in return.


Find this book at Harmony Ink/Dreamspinner Press

Book Review - Omorphi, by C. Kennedy

High school senior Michael Sattler leads a charmed life. He’s a star athlete, has great friends, and parents who love him just the way he is. What’s missing from his life is a boyfriend. That’s a problem because he’s out only to his parents and best friend. When Michael accidentally bumps into Christy Castle at school, his life changes in ways he never imagined. Christy is Michael’s dream guy: smart, pretty, and sexy. But nothing could have prepared Michael for what being Christy's boyfriend would entail. Christy needs to heal after years of abuse and knows he needs help to do it. After the death of his notorious father, he leaves his native Greece and settles in upstate New York. Alone, afraid, and left without a voice, Christy hides the myriad scars of his abuse. He desperately wants to be loved and when he meets Michael, he dares to hope that day has arrived. When one of Michael’s team-mates becomes an enemy and an abuser from Christy’s past seeks to return him to a life of slavery, only Michael and Christy's combined strength and unwavering determination can save them from the violence that threatens to destroy their future together.

As you know, I don't write recaps of the story (read the blurb), nor do I fill my reviews with spoilers. This is my experience of the story. My connection to it.

AND WHAT A STORY IT IS.

Christy. You had me, hook, line, and sinker, already when you were sitting up on the bleachers, watching Michael from afar. His #1 Fan.

How somebody can take this subject matter and gently turn it into something so brilliant and elegant, is beyond me. Child abuse, sexual child abuse, in a story that has me cry like a baby and laugh like few books before, without ever even potentially falling into the horrifying trap of exploiting the abuse for the reader's "pleasure"?

Simply amazing.

Even the (quite tame, young and loving) sex scenes are never graphic nor exploiting. All power is, thanks to Michael, left in Christy's hands, for him to rediscover sexuality, love and discover Mike.

There is the one scene that just killed me dead, when Christy says he is glad that at least Michael is a virgin, and Michael responds:

"You are too. You have never been touched by someone who loved you."

There is so much in this book that just totally rocked. Or had me sitting in the corner, rocking.

The only parts that grated on my sense of correct storytelling were about the slacker security, and while I understand that it was to make the story more interesting, seriously, it just managed to annoy me, and took half a star off my rating.
Nuff said.

One of the most charming characters was to be found on the sidelines: young Lisa. She was a force to be reckoned with, and by god I loved that. More and more intelligent women-side-characters are appearing also in m/m books these days, and I applaud it.

There were people from different continents and several colors in this story, and they all had their own voice. That is quite unusual, so extra kudos for that. (I have no idea if the Greek written in the book was correct, but the Italian could have benefited from a helping hand from a native speaker).

What is great with a story like this is that this was an MC I could really root for. Every step Christy took in the right direction was a screaming victory and I adored him so much for his strength. Even when he froze and walked in the wrong direction. To eventually bolt like a rabbit. God, I screamed for him, rooting so hard.

There is so much understanding about abuse and power play in this story that I am left shattered at the end. But mended, somehow, by the fine example of NEVER GIVING UP ON YOUR FRIENDS.

You stand up for your friends. Every. Single. Time. 

And the cover of the book? That is seriously such a perfect image of Christy. I kept closing the book, and looking at the cover for minutes on end.

Beautiful.

Omorphi.

Indeed.

***

I received a free ARC from the publisher, Harmony Ink/Dreamspinner Press. A positive review was not promised in return.

Disclaimer: Since reading and reviewing this book the first time in September 2013, I have become friends with the author, who has gifted me with a paperback copy. It is simply beautiful.

On my list of Top-Ten Reads of 2013


Find and buy this book at Harmony Ink/Dreamspinner Press

Book Review – The Three Miracles of Santos Socorro, by Sarah Black

Abraham needs a Christmas miracle or three. His lover Santos wants to play with masks, his brother is searching for a gay bear, and now Abraham's been cursed by that expert tamale maker and grandmother Magdalena Socorro. 
















I won this book with a limerick, and I am damn proud of it, too. The prize was supposed to be an Idaho spud, but those monstrosities are notoriously difficult to send overseas, so Sarah gave me this book instead.

LUCKY ME!!!

It is totally charming.

A sweet bear of a Jewish chocolate maker dates a Hispanic detective without any of the two being exactly clear on how much actual dating is going on. Mix in a hilarious gang of kickass relatives of Santos'—ladies of the tamale persuasion—and it is cooking! Recipes galore! Sweet and hot (the recipes, mate, get your mind out of the gutter!) and plenty of action. Actually, there's a lot more sensual action than I am used to from this author, but I am not complaining.

The Padre fainted, however.

God I love every word that comes out of this author. Every single one.

Favorite line?
Here:

“Well, he’s Muslim, you’re Jewish, I’m Catholic. We could join hands and sing Kumbaya for world peace.”

If you like tamales and other hot south-western stuff, there’s also a great recipe for mole in here. Come get it!


***

I received this book after winning the limerick contest on the Meet the Author Sarah Black-event on Goodreads. A positive review was never part of the deal.


Find this book at: Amazon

Book Review – The Prince and the Program, by Aldous Mercer

Mordred Pendragon, the Bastard Prince, has done a Bad Thing-again. Exiled to Canada for seven years, he has to find a job to pay his bills. For reasons he refuses to reveal, Mordred decides "Software Engineer" has a nice ring to it. And though experience with "killing the Once and Future King, my father" and "that time in feudal Japan" makes for a poor resume, he is hired by a small tech startup in Toronto. In the midst of dealing with a crippling caffeine addiction and learning C++, Mordred thinks he has finally found someone to anchor him to the world of the living: Alan, the company's offsite lead developer. Except that Alan might not be a "living" entity at all-he may, in fact, be the world's first strong AI. Or a demon that mistook a Windows install for the highway to Hell. Or, just maybe, the ghost of Alan Turing, currently inhabiting a laptop.

I didn’t read much of the blurb. I never do. But I saw that Mordred was the MC. And that Alan Turing had a big role. That was quite enough for me. Alan has earned some starshine.

So when the author contacted me and asked me if I wanted to read it, I said yes. At once.

What did I think of this book? Well, five stars, for starters. Duh.

Because it is Monty Python meets Douglas Adams chewing coca leaves smoking pot doing shrooms. Then it goes to a whole different level all together. Heh. I am sure I understood exactly nothing of this book, and I know I loved every second of it. Just terribly, terribly brilliant.

The author never tells you too much. At moments, he tells you too little, but he is never there to write stuff on your nose, you either get it or you don’t. (I need to vehemently stress that I mostly did not, in fact, get it. Not that it mattered in the least. Still brilliant). My intelligence was never questioned. (Except for by me myself, but that is a daily thing happening). The author took for granted that I would just strap in and follow.

And by god, I followed. All over the place. Everywhere, even through the moments where I understood nothing.

Brain-melt. That’s what this book is. My brain is now zombiefood, ready for serving.

Here is Mr. Mercer’s recipe: one part Fantasy, one part Legends, one part hot droids, one part running crazy, one part Save the world. Mix well, let simmer for hours, serve steaming hot. Decorate with artificial intelligence, shining metallic robots, androids and the occasional zombie. Add a side dish of a Final Bonus Quest with a thousand dollar reward, dead or alive. I loved it.

Why I loved it? Well, the language, of course. As usual. Seduce me with your English, please.
Here, let me show you a sentence that is nothing short of brilliant:

Instead of hurling a flamebolt at the bitch—a misbegotten chimera hatched in some wunderkind’s garage—I took a deliberate sip of coffee.

Then the author goes on to show me that this is a different and strange place. He doesn’t tell me, he shows me. Here:

It wasn’t until 28:23 that a large middle-aged man entered the room and gripped my hand in a bone-crushing handshake.

Ha, author, I see what you did there. An action sentence shows me that we are in a place where time is counted differently, but you are not writing it on my nose. Cool.

This book gave me many of the same feels I got when reading Douglas Adams for the first time, wide-eyed and smiling, with the occasional wild guffaws, and a lot of headshaking at all the crazy. Like this sentence:

…The owl returned to life and went to sleep.

I mean, seriously? Who writes that?
Oh, I guess the same man who uses Baron Samedi as one of his characters. I haven’t heard of him since 10cc.

Mr Mercer then continues to break me into little pieces with all the talk between Mori and Alan over IRC. I still remember when I got op status, and read ***Mode change “+o AnnaLund” for #Ferrari by ChanServ every time I entered the channel. Glory days. Much as gen-mai, I would proceed to kicking stupid users off my chan, banning half of them to kingdom come. (I connected from Sweden’s Swipnet, so I was holding on to the shit-end of that specific stick more often than not. If you were there, you remember. Oh, the amounts of hackers that connected through them, it was truly glorious).

And herein lies the strength of this story. Mr Mercer just tells it. You have to relate to it.

For me? This was an IRC-nerdgasm, turned to OIRC-gasm in one, small, brilliant sentence. Oh lord. I am sure I missed a plethora of interesting things, stuff that you will note, because it was part of your heritage. As I said, herein lies the strength.

There is even a sentence of redemption for the sadly mauled figure of Morgana, a line where Mordred says “Our mother was a child, caught up and betrayed by men that should have known better.” Oh, author, I do love you for that short phrase.

See? I have now talked and talked about this book, without telling you what it is about. I am very proud of this fact. Read it, and you tell me. What is it about?

I think it is about reparation for Alan Turing and I think it is brilliant. At the same time, I feel it is also a kind of reparation for Mordred himself, who was handed a shitty deal already at birth.

Yes, this is not your normal romance. Who cares? This is a real story. It took me by the hand and ran like the wind. By pure coincidence (there is no such thing) I was in Toronto while reading most of it.

***
I was given a free copy of this book by the author, after he had read one of my reviews. He thought I’d like it. He was right. A review wasn’t promised in return.

***
Addendum to this review:

None of my girlfriends cared for the Arthurian legends. None of them read Tolkien. None of them understood my fascination with science fiction; they were all reading Green Gables or something.

You see, science fiction is my old love, my almost-forgotten love. I grew up with the ABC of Asimov/Bradbury/Clarke, and I was the only girl I knew then who loved them.

This love has been trampled and abused and almost killed during the last decades, as I haven’t found anything to stir my mind for ages.

Then suddenly, this year, 2013, three (3!) different authors suddenly swing by and make everything better. Aldous Mercer is one of them. Lisa Henry is another. And Julio-Alexi Genao is the third. Each one of them with a different angle, one more about science and computers, the second writing a more deep space sci-fi, and the third with a dystopian darkness of a love story.

All three spoke to me. All three handled subjects that I love. Crazy and fun. Distress and fear. Loneliness and love.

So, from the old timers to these three new authors, I’d like to instate the HeGeMe of Henry/Genao/Mercer.

Because M/M tops it now.

Heh.


Find this book at: Dreamspinner Press

Book Review - Slam! by JL Merrow

Limericks, lies, and puppy-dog eyes...

Jude Biggerstaff is all the way out and loving it - mostly. The Anglo-Japanese university graduate is a carnivore working in a vegan cafe, an amateur poet with only one man in his life. His dog, Bubbles. Then there's "Karate Crumpet", a man who regularly runs past the cafe with a martial arts class. Jude can only yearn from afar, until the object of his affection rescues him from muggers. And he learns that not only does this calm, competent hunk of muscle have a name - David - but that he s gay. Jude should have known the universe wouldn't simply let love fall into place. First, David has only one foot out of the closet. Then there's Jude's mother, who lies about her age to the point Jude could be mistaken for jailbait. With a maze of stories to keep straight, a potential stepfather in the picture, ex-boyfriends who keep spoiling his dates with David, and a friend with a dangerous secret, Jude is beginning to wonder if his and David's lives will ever start to rhyme. Warnings: Contains a tangled web of little white lies, a smorgasbord of cheesy limericks, a violin called Vanessa, some boots that mean business, and the most adorable little dog ever. Poetry, it's not...

Where to begin? Probably with the fact that this story was truly cathartic. It has been a long, long time since I laughed this hard. Every single sentence fucked with at least one not very politically correct theme, often more than one, and every time cracking me up so bad I had to look up from my book and giggling go: “Wow! Well, fuuuuuck!”

That, my friends, is how I know it's a good book for me.

Jude, our MC, is Anglo-Japanese, and it is a big part of him, much like your own belonging somewhere is a part of your identity make-up. Jude owns his British heritage, and is absolutely hilarious about his Japanese one. Of course, most of that heritage consisted of a Japanese father who upped and left his mother when she was expecting Jude, so he is completely lacking in actual knowledge about the Japanese culture.

Jude is a bundle of energy. Had he been American, I believe he would have been put on a strict régime of Adderall, many pills every day, but in Europe we are perhaps a bit less prone to diagnose the spectrum? Or at least, less prone to medicating? He is beautiful, but scatterbrained, and has absolutely no filter at all. He is, as many young men and women, very focused on sex: having it, wanting it, thinking about it. He is a hummingbird on meth, some days, but poetic and full of creative verve. He quite charmed my pants off with his crazy limericks and wild poetry, and I noticed myself falling into writing one or two limericks of my own during the read. (No. I won’t).

This author has a way of writing Jude’s silly side that just has me in stitches. I love him after having read only 10 pages, he is so sweet and crazy and cool and creative and silly. I adore silly. When the gunpowder smoke clears up, there is not one single holy cow left standing. But Ms Merrow then proceeds to reload and take precision aim, shooting straight at most everything, including vegans, carnivores, gay-bashing, child abuse, racism, drug abuse, missing fathers, and problems that single moms may encounter.

Jude’s best friend, Keisha, (who I surmise is black, even though I believe it is never really clearly stated, I just go by the name and the feeling—is that wrong of me?) is a hoot; she is querulous and beautiful and strong and kickass and his friend, his true friend. I love that. She is a friend by his side in ways that most people only dream of. Jude also stands up for her in ways he wouldn’t even stand up for himself. Beautiful. Truly beautiful. Those two, trying out for karate classes had me roaring with laughter.

Jude meets David, who isn’t out of the closet and ten years his senior, and they both fall for each other like over-ripe apples—after a bit of initial problems of course. Jealousy over ex-boyfriends called Knut, for example. Which leads me directly to a passage of great literary worth:

“If he laid a finger on my David, I’d just have to use my newfound martial arts mojo and kick him in the Knuts.”

And then there are some middle-story problems, of course. And then some get-together-hotness, and then a little angst that quickly gets sorted. There, all better now!

I found that race was present in this story, in a good way, i.e. people WERE of different races. It makes my heart sing, as most books are just white people, with white problems, and white neighborhoods, in white countries.

I grew up on three continents, and for over 75 percent of my life I have been a foreigner, never fitting in, always looking like I should be somewhere else. Somewhere in the middle of this book there is a bitter-sweet banter where you can just feel how Jude had been bullied as a kid. Here’s the passage, I found it dealt beautifully with how mean kids can be to their peers of different origins:

“It’s getting a bit nippy now the sun’s gone in,” said David.
I glared at him. “Not particularly fond of that word. Not after kids at school using it to get a cheap laugh at my expense—It’s a bit nippy in here, innit? Yeah, Jappo Jude just walked in.”
“Jude…” David’s face crumpled. “I would never, ever say anything like that, okay? I’m sorry I brought back bad memories for you. I’ll try and be more careful in the future.”

And that, my friends, is how you handle a delicate matter of someone having been made to feel bad about belonging to a specific race. Also, I command Jude on his externalizing his discomfort at once, instead of just taking it in silence. I found relief here, there was dignity and good feeling.

And suddenly, now at the end of my review, I realize that this story, that had me laughing until I cried like a maniac, has made a deeper impression than I expected, for all its layered messages. And when I go read what other people have thought about this book (as I always do AFTER I’ve written down my own feelings for a book) I see that this is an extremely divisive story. You either love it or you hate it. How about that. Many people don’t seem to see AT ALL what I am seeing.

This is why I love books. They are personal.

I see things of great value in here. Your mileage may vary, but for me, this was well worth both my time and my money. I feel I am thinking more about this book than many other ones that I have read lately.

JL Merrow really has a way to making her stories insinuate themselves into my head, and this one will stay with me for a long time—a bit like her Muscling Through, but on a different level.

Yes, I absolutely adored it. Crazy limericks and all. Kick-ass hippie, veteran vegans and all. Carrots and burgers and all.

Yeah, I loved Jude, his world, its poetry, and all.


***

Nobody forced me to read this book, I simply fell upon it and devoured it in three days. I’d really like it if somebody fed me more of this kind of crack.

Find this book at Samhain Publishing

ARC Book Review - The General and the Elephant Clock of Al-Jazari, by Sarah Black

Fresh out of the closet, General John Mitchel and Gabriel Sanchez are settling into their new life together when an old army colleague taps them for a rescue mission to Tunisia. Eli and Daniel, two former Rangers working security, have been arrested in Carthage, charged with blasphemy and thrown into prison. With rampant unrest in the ancient city and an old enemy targeting them, John gathers a team to liberate the two captive men. When he discovers Eli’s boyhood obsession with Al-Jazari’s Elephant Clock, the rescue becomes complicated and strangely beautiful, and John and Gabriel have to risk what they love the most to bring their team home.

What a ride. What a ride. Ms. Black, you have done it again.

What strikes me with this story is that this is a regular thriller/army story, which also happens to have some MCs who are gay. It is not an m/m romance book, as such. And although there is very much love in it, there is almost no sex at all, and I’m not even missing it. (You never thought you'd see me write that, did you?)

And Kim, FTMFW, every time. I adore that boy. I ADORE HIM.

Not only is this a book about kick-ass army men (who also happen to be gay men), even the women in this story are portrayed both with respect and intelligence—they are both multi-faceted and three-dimensional.

I especially appreciated Ms Madeline Grant from the US Embassy in Tunis, the description of her going into negotiation mode as a stone-faced rock amazed me. What a woman! Brilliant.

Also Jen was great, a young and fearless woman with ideals and spunk. I love to see this in stories, together with the multicultural backdrops and people. Women’s groups spreading news across Northern Africa? Fucking brilliant. The use of social media? Another brilliant move.

In this story you will find a lot of political views on world events, including religion and terrorism. Ms Black is well-informed and well-researched, it really impresses me a lot.

A good line? Here:

“Too many young men with nothing to do, no jobs, no future, and trouble was likely to follow.”

So few books manage to span diversity like this. There are at least three religions involved, there are Arabs from many different countries, a Korean, some Hispanics, a bunch of Caucasians, a Native American, and everyone is judged or appreciated on personal merit (or demerit, as it were) only. Absolutely refreshing.

I adored the references to the fantastic Spartacus Blood & Sand and Andy Whitfield—what better setting than Carthage? It made my heart sing.

And then, this is also a hilariously funny book, with some true humor shining bright. I found myself screaming with laughter at several passages of brilliant insight and tom-foolery. Like:

“You’re the only kick-ass general I know who needs three gay boys to dress him, John.”

Do you also love beautiful language? It is here. Poetic, even, look:

“Winslow was a little town on the border with Navajo and Hopi land, an aging railroad town the color of dust.”
Can’t you smell the color of that dusty town?

Favorite line:

“I knew that boy when he was a baby pilot, still wet behind the rotors.”

Half a star gets taken away because of the so completely, extremely and terribly fugly cover. I wish Ms Black could get a new artist, because her books are truly worthy of serious cover art. Already the last book in the series had a cover that made my cry in pain. This one is only slightly better, but on a scale from horrible to bad.

An upside in this book is that Martha is now portrayed as a more balanced woman. Last time I was so angry because by god she had reasons to blow a fuse, and was shown off as a shrieking shrew. This time, she has both depth and three dimensions. Thank you.

All in all an absolutely fantastic read. Do not let the title fool you (yes, I know how you read that), nor the cover: This is a good, good book.

It leaves you happy. That's what good stories do to you. They take you, they shake you, and then they leave you a little bit better for having read them.


***

I was given an ARC of this book for free from the publisher, Dreamspinner Press.
A positive review was neither expected nor promised in return.

Find this book at: Dreamspinner Press

Book Review - The General and the Horse-Lord, by Sarah Black

General John Mitchel and his favorite pilot, Gabriel Sanchez, served together as comrades and brothers-in-arms for more than twenty-five years. They followed the warrior’s path: honor first, and service, and the safety of the tribe. Their own needs for love and companionship were secondary to the mission. Retirement from the army, however, proves challenging in ways neither expected. When old warriors retire, their armor starts falling away, and the noise of the world crowds in. That changing world sets up longings in both men for the life they might have had. After years of loving on the down-low, the idea of living together in the light seems like pure sweet oxygen to men who have been underwater a little too long. But what will it cost them to turn their dreams into truth?

No spoilers, I talk about what I found in this book, not what is actually in it.

Coolest title this year, together with what must be truly the ugliest cover.
Well, fabulous things have been known to come also in unexpected packages, and this book was recommended to me by Con Riley, and that’s usually enough for me.

And boy, does this book ever deliver, it is a scathing and fantastic swing at the Don’t ask, don’t tell.

It is a vision of the freeing of souls, the opening of minds, the possibility to move firmly into what and who you are, free to be you. To not miss out on a huge part of what is life, which is love.

This book does all that, and at the same time it is humorous, screaming-out-loud funny in places, especially where the young, crazy artistic boys meet with the two closeted-for-decades soldiers—there is a clash and a bang and so, so, so much love. Both between the generations and between the peer groups.

Then it takes a nose-dive into the mandatory angst, and I was okay with that, too.

I’m in an excerpt-kind-of-mood today, so here are some of my favorite moments:

”All you want to do when you’re fourteen is snatch up a broadsword and hack something to pieces, then find a big rock and fuck it to death.”

“John, did you see those boys at the bar the other night? They weren’t just out and proud, they were out and proud in flashing neon, you know?”

“It seems to me I’ve been missing something critical. I see that in you too. Missing the right to love. The right to make a life together.”

“’Would we have to play the gay-card?’
Gabriel sighed. ‘John, we’re gay. You know that, right?’”

“I’ll find some smoke granades. Smoke is always good to make a confusing situation a little more confusing.”

“If you ask one more lost boy to move into the house, I’m going to start building a barracks in the back yard.”

It has made me cry, and smile, and scream out loud with laughter, as anyone who has been following my updates know. It was well-written, with only three or four spelling errors. (But honestly? “Hanger” is not the word you’re looking for when talking about where to park your Apache, okay? Try “hangar”).

This story was so vividly painted that I still have an image of the house, the streets, the places they went, right here in my head. The characters were so real, so consistent with who they were that they just convinced me of the whole story. I know what the house looks like. The garage and the back yard. Ho-Ho’s food joint is a real place in my head.

Kim, oh Kim! He must be the most darling young man on the planet. I love him so much.

Honor. Pride. Love. Duty. Family. Romance. Friendship. Hate. Pain. Support. Comfort. Justice. And, of course, cheating. Yourself, your partner, your life, your very soul.

Now, the only note of pain, for me, in this book, was the character Martha, who was painted out to be the villain. Well, excuse me if I go outside and barf, but she had fucking reason to be pissed off. A lot of wrong had been done to her. A lot.

That said, this book gets all the stars from me. It wasn’t the heartbreak extraordinaire that I was led to believe, going in, but it was hard. It was hard work, trials and tribulations.

It was good, and safe, and home, and happy, and sad, and terrifying, and beautiful, and more. So much more.

What I will take with me now, when moving on, is Kim.
Kim and his love for his friends, his uncle, and for pink nail polish.


***

I was NOT asked to read this book by anyone, and I paid for it with my own money.

Find this book at Dreamspinner Press