In a world where magic helped the industrial revolution begin, the sons of one of the greatest industrial magicians England has known are called upon to lift a curse laid on the daughter of mine owner Jasper Pryce. Bored with the routine probate magic they are practicing, they accept the offer, and travel north to find the girl near death, the local farmers besieged by a beast, and the mine itself beset by problems.

Reminiscent of Susanna Clarke’s Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, but less dense and less complex, The Rowanwood Curse nevertheless is an enjoyable read. Author Elizabeth O’Connell writes in a consistent period voice with almost no mis-steps, giving us tantalizing glimpses into a world where magic is part of everyday life, practiced by those trained in it and both revered and rejected by those who are not initiates. Because magic, as it exists in O’Connell’s world, behaves consistently with traditional faerie and elemental magic known to us from children’s books onward, there is little cognitive dissonance for the experienced fantasy reader: the tale is one of familiar elements, not surprises. Nonetheless, the story is well-crafted. The Rowanwood Curse is one of a proposed series, and therefore its lack of detail in world-building is more teasing than annoying: I want to know more about aether-engines, and probate magic, and all sorts of things hinted at but not fully explained, and that desire to know more will bring me back to the series, as the author intends.

The Rowanwood Curse is short, more novella length than full novel, and fairly predictable. The characters – magicians Hal and Jem Bishop, industrialist Sir Jasper Pryce – will feel familiar to readers of Victorian-era stories and/or those of us addicted to BBC period dramas. In short, I’d describe the book as a comfortable excursion into an almost-known magical world, a good book to curl up with on a rainy afternoon (or as I did, read on a flight, where escapism without significant challenge is an antidote to the discomfort of flying); bake some gingerbread, brew some tea, light the fire, (diet coke and pretzels really didn’t quite suit it) and enjoy the story. Four stars.

Rarity from the Hollow is subtitled A Children’s Story. For Adults. The author, Robert Eggleton, writes with the accuracy of familiarity about the lives of children caught in a multi-generational cycle of abuse; of men scarred by war and poverty, of PTSD, of the coping mechanisms of wives and mothers trying to hold families together.

The opening scenes of this book are difficult to read and harrowing in their blunt depiction of the kinds of abuse that Lacy Dawn, the protagonist, and her friend Faith experience. As Lacy Dawn narrates the story, elements of fantasy begin to develop, fantasy that then changes to a coherent, but oddly detached story of extra-terrestrial (and human) intervention. The extra-terrestrial intervention addresses primarily the psychological and behavioural issues confronting Lacy Dawn’s family; the human intervention – of a type beyond (or above?) the law, in a renegade Gates Foundation way – provides employment and support.

The book could be read, I think, as pure fantasy, revealing Lacy Dawn’s imagined escape from the cruel realities of her life, or, as a satire on the hurdles faced by agencies or individuals attempting to intervene in the lives of families caught in the vicious cycle of abuse. Or, perhaps, a combination of the two. I lean toward the latter. In either case, it is not a particularly easy or enjoyable read, the reality of the described lives always in the back of the reader’s mind, emphasizing the unreality of the unfolding events. A strong element of sexuality, realistic but disturbing given the age of the protagonist, remains throughout the story. But it stands in good company: I can think of other disturbing satires that have been difficult to read, but carry a strong message: A Clockwork Orange, for one.

This is not a book for children, or even for teens, and it is not a book for those who are looking for escapist fantasy. Rarity from the Hollow pulls no punches: even though some passages are very funny, it is unlikely to be those the reader remembers. It’s also a book you’ll likely need to take breathing spaces from. But I remain glad I was offered it to review. I’m giving Rarity from the Hollow four stars.

All proceeds from the book have been donated to a child abuse prevention program.

Available on Amazon, Lulu, or from Doghorn Publishing.

Social Agent Nancy Rose inhabits a dark and dangerous world, where she must navigate a complex, convoluted underworld where power resides in the few, lives are short and shadowed, and the lines between law enforcement and the underworld are blurred.

Several generations after a virus has destroyed all men, scientists have found a way to return men to the world, but there are those – the Queens of the Sicarii – who oppose this. Nancy Rose has her own complex relationships with men, and her own motives in the pursuit of her duties may be suspect. While Wire’s novel is science fiction, it owes much to classic crime noir.

Wire writes in a style that strongly evokes the dark mood and setting of this story. Characterization and character development reflect the noir genre, revealing just enough about the protagonist, her allies and her enemies to move the plot forward. The first book in an intended series, it could be argued that the world-building is a bit weak, but more is likely to be revealed in further stories. There were times I found myself slightly confused about the motivations of some characters, and I found the the pacing a bit uneven.  But overall, After the Queens of the Sicarii kept me intrigued and entertained. Wire’s world may be post-apocalyptic, and his protagonist is a young woman, but this is far from the various Hunger Games or Insurgent clones that are offered to me for review.  Four stars for this debut novel from a talented new author.