The War of the First Day, by Thomas Fleet, is a rollicking, fast-paced adult fantasy novel. Witch-aspirant Lilta kidnaps the Taxian royal heir on the instructions of her mistress, but rapidly discovers she is caught up in a complex web of betrayal within her own kind. In attempting to both survive and negotiate the civil war that erupts in the Witchlands, Lilta must embrace her own magical powers and make decisions to act independently, risking not only her own life but potentially much, much more. As the magical Day of All Centuries approaches, Lilta must decide to act before the traitors of the Witchlands use the power of the day for their own purposes.

I really enjoyed this book. It’s not easily classified: it certainly isn’t classic (or stereotypical) high fantasy: magic is at the heart of the story, but guards who shout “Shit, a witch!” and witches who refer to another witch as “You traitorous little bitch,” are not voicing the usual expressions to be found in high fantasy. But while the characters use language and expressions that sound like fairly typical 21^st Century North American speech, it is not out of place in the complex world Fleet has imagined. This is a world of political rivalries, where characters jostle for power and will go to any length to obtain it: it just happens to be one where magic is the chief weapon in use.

There are a lot of twists and turns in this story, and I don’t want to spoil it for readers. At its heart I read it as a coming of age story, where the protagonist Lilta must learn for herself the extent and limitations of her magic and the price for using it. There are aspects of traditional concepts of women’s power, especially that of the tripartite goddess figure, woven into the story, as well as links between magic and mathematics which are familiar from a number of sources. Fleet interweaves these influences and concepts with skill, building a believable world both in terms of the magic and the politics.

The ending of the story, without giving it away, was conceptually reminiscent of the endings of stories by some of the science-fiction classics from Asimov, Clarke or LeGuin: a surprise, and one that leaves the reader thinking.

The writing is highly competent, active narration occasionally interspersed with descriptions of precise beauty: “Far above, a line of birds flew, their beating wings flashing in the sun’s rays. The pulse of brightness played up and down their line like the sun on water, a glittering, fluid flow of light.” The pacing is solid, Lilta’s internal dialogues and realizations occurring naturally within the flow of action. I found no production errors in the e-pub version I read.

Overall, while this will not be a story to everyone’s taste – in part because it isn’t easily classified into a genre – I’m giving it five stars. Please note this caveat: this is, due to sexuality and language, a book for adult readers, not a young-adult fantasy.

The author provided me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Written in Hell is one of those occasional books I like more the more I think about it. Once in a while a book or a film comes along that is better from a distance, when contemplation and synaptic action has had a chance to allow the images and words and messages to coalesce and connect. I had the same reaction to the last film in the ‘Cornetto Trilogy’, The World’s End. Also comic science fiction, there were details and actions in the film that didn’t work for me at the time, but after a few days, I realized I had quite liked the film, perhaps more than quite liked it. Written in Hell has engendered the same reaction.

The protagonist, Nate (or “Ate”) is a failed writer; his one book, a western bordering on pornographic, has not sold well at all. He takes his sense of failure out on just about everyone, sneering at them via his extensive vocabulary. But Nate isn’t quite the failure he believes himself to be: his book has done exceptionally well in one place. Hell. So well that the Devil is tired of Hell’s denizens role-playing characters from the book, and recruits Nate to write another one.

Anyone involved in a creative pursuit will likely relate to many of the images in the book. Not, perhaps, to Nate himself – he’s not a particularly likeable character – but to certain other concepts: the thick skin Nate finds he’s grown; the misinterpretations of his characters; his helpless lack of control over his intellectual property. The comedy is at once both slapstick – strong physical comedy focused on Nate’s lack of control over his body – and much more subtle. The ending, without spoilers, has Nate facing what is likely the deepest fear of most writers and artists.

I can’t fault Written in Hell on any of the usual issues of plot or voice or grammar. I will say the pacing may be a bit uneven, with perhaps too much time spent on repeating some of the more physical issues Nate faces. If you’re offended by swearing, this book will offend you. Characters were not stereotypical, especially the Devil, and the plot had twists that just couldn’t be expected. It’s never going to be a favourite book, but if the role of art is to change the way you see the world, …well, I’m never going to picture the Devil the same way again.

The author provided me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

Sol of the Coliseum is an action-adventure story set in a world reminiscent of – but definitely not – Ancient Rome. Sol is born in the Coliseum; his mother dies as a result of his birth, but he is saved by a momentary tenderness on the part of Grall, a guard who is missing his own newborn son.

Sol grows up as a slave and inevitably becomes a gladiator, fighting for his life on the sands of the Coliseum, gaining the respect of his opponents and a steady stream of ‘the Spoils”: the slave women given as a reward to a successful gladiator. But Sol is a natural gentleman, and he spends more time listening to these women than bedding them, and as a result he learns his worldview is, not surprisingly, simplistic…and slowly he becomes embroiled in rebellion.

Sol of the Coliseum is a straightforward adventure story, with detailed descriptions of gladiatorial battles against both other gladiators and wild beasts. The writing is competent and the story flows well, although I had some issues with pacing, especially towards the end, when culminating events happened very rapidly. The characters are well rounded and attractive, with perhaps the exception of the evil Lysik: I kept waiting for some backstory or explanation of his vileness to make him more than a stock nasty (albeit a very nasty nasty.) While there are few surprises in the plot, the story is nonetheless entertaining.

I had a few issues with the world-building; although Gaylord takes his time at the beginning of the book to create a solid setting, the insertion of some modern phrasing and concepts into what was essentially a Romanesque world jarred a little, none more so than the characters drinking coffee. This seems to be common intrusion into created worlds, one, I suspect, (in a rather tongue-in-cheek way) that may result from writers not conceiving of how a world can function without it. However much I may need my coffee (and I do!), I still find it jars when it appears in a world where it doesn’t seem to belong. But that is a personal peeve.

The book is a stand-alone adventure, but the story could be continued. Sol is a interesting enough character (in some ways he reminds me of the actual Tarzan, the one from Edgar Rice Burrough’s books, not the movie versions) that the author may wish to further develop his story.

Four stars, overall, to an enjoyable adventure story with appealing characters.

The author provided me with a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.