I have to say that of the tie-ins to the Witchblade universe, the title I was least excited about was The Darkness. I’m not really a fan of following around the bad guy, and it seems like Jackie Estacado’s whole job, being the Darkness incarnate and the head of a mob family, is all about being the bad guy. So I acknowledge that I wasn’t enthusiastic about picking up The Darkness/Pitt #3 when it was sent by the publisher as a pdf download.

I’m happy to say, however, that the series really deserves a chance, in large part due to the balancing act between The Darkness and Pitt, two series that have come together for this continuing crossover. Pitt is a human/alien hybrid accompanied by his human (but psychic) half-brother Timmy, who is only nine years old. As issue #3 begins, Pitt, Timmy, and Jackie are surrounded by a zombie-like horde that only Timmy’s mind is holding at bay.

Jackie’s “voice over” narration is snarky and fun, more sarcastic than cruel, making me think that his character probably has redeemable qualities (though how that balances out with his being evil incarnate, I’m not sure). But what really shines in issue #3 is the continual banter — even when surrounded by danger on all sides — between Jackie and Pitt. Even better is when Timmy can’t take it any more and calls them both out on not acting like adults. Timmy seems to be the most powerful of the three characters, as well as the most mature in some ways, which makes him a complete scene stealer. He’s not too precocious, he’s just the single character ready to stop everything until everyone can just get along.

Dale Keown, the creator of Pitt and the artist for The Darkness/Pitt cross-over, is as phenomenal as the cover blurb promises. He has a fairly traditional comic-book style, which works very well for the storytelling here, and his attention to detail, particularly in facial expressions and anatomy (even for zombies) really takes the art to a higher level than the run-of-the-mill superhero comic. His panels are at all sorts of angles, but the flow of the story is never interrupted by their non-traditional placement, or the way characters extend beyond them. The dialog by Paul Jenkins also shines, and makes me think that despite my lack of inclination to care about the adventures of Jackie Estacado, I’d pick up more issues of this title just to follow along with the adventures of Timmy and Pitt. It’s definitely worth picking up an issue and giving it a try.

Review by Alana Abbott

Available at Amazon.com

You should, by now, already know about Amanda Feral.(1) The celebutante zombie star of Happy Hour of the Damned and Road Trip of the Living Dead is back in action, returning to Seattle’s night-life scene, albeit with far less cash than she started with. Like the rest of the world, Amanda’s finances are on the rocks, and the only thing that looks like it will save her(2) from the bone-breaking threats of the reapers, to whom she’s indebted, is taking a role on a reality show. Amanda’s no actress, but playing herself to the camera is something she’s perfected. The problem is, she has to work opposite one Johnny Birch, a dirty wood nymph with sexual proclivities to make a yeti gasp. It’s no wonder someone wants him dead — Amanda wants to kill him within minutes of meeting him, after all — but it does put a hamper in the reality show when someone actually does murder the star. Far from being willing to give up, Amanda smells opportunity(3): make the show about solving the murder!

Amanda’s no detective, but her on-the-rocks boyfriend was a member of the police force before being turned into a werewolf. With his help, and the assistance of Wendy, Gil, and even Ethel (Amanda’s mother, if the word mother translates to antagonist-for-life), Amanda’s ready to crack the case wide open, and look good on camera doing it. And there are certainly plenty of excuses to check out the latest hot-spot openings in Seattle’s undead-scene that help with solving the murder. Right?

Where Road Trip of the Living Dead veered away from the Seattle celebrity scene that made Happy Hour of the Damned such a hook for the rest of the series, Battle of the Network Zombies throws readers right back into the world of zombies, vampires, windigo, fairies, ghosts, sirens, and other bizarre creatures of the night who are all just trying to make a living.(4) Mark Henry includes just as much snark as ever, and his send-up of reality television, both with Amanda’s show and the short TV Guide like blurbs for other programs at the beginning of each chapter, is dead-on. Better yet, while the novel pokes fun at the whole genre of television programming, it does so in an almost loving way — obviously, Henry has to have watched plenty of reality television to be able to lampoon it so well.

While we get a full on Agatha Christie style denouement as Amanda solves the case, we sadly don’t get the villain’s last monologue to explain why all the chaos happened in the first place. Happily the climax involves as much campy action as the movie Clue, so though I could have used a little additional filling in on why certain characters showed up at the conclusion, the end results are utterly satisfying. Even better, a long appendix at the end gives us a look at adolescent Amanda, just discovering how she can manipulate everyone around her, leading her to become the snarky bitch we all know and love. Amanda Feral and I would never be friends(5), and while she grows and develops as a character in Battle, she remains shallow, self-centered, and utterly hilarious to watch. Here’s to crossing my fingers that Amanda’s adventures will continue well after Battle of the Network Zombies!(6)

(As the reviewer, I received an e-ARC of this novel for free from the author. I’ve heard there have been some changes in the final version, so it is possible there are errors in my description.)

1) If not, why don’t you? You’ve had two years, people!
2) And her fabulous wardrobe.
3) Notably, opportunity smells better than the low-lives that make up most of Amanda’s meals.
4) Or eat the living. If they’re a good vintage.
5) You can find her at Myspace.com/amandaferal.
6) To help make sure Amanda gets further book contracts, consult the Save Amanda Feral campaign at www.markhenry.us.

Review by Alana Joli Abbott

Back with another overdue review of Witchblade (provided for review by the publisher in pdf format). Usually I don’t comment on the alternate covers (many of them have way too much cleavage for me to appreciate), but I have to say that Chris Bachalo’s Cover B is brilliant for this issue — it’s an almost Disnified version of Sara wearing very little Witchblade armor, but she’s just so cute that her scantily clad bod seems secondary to the hair and earrings being featured. None of the covers are particularly relevant to the content inside in this issue, so the cute factor goes a long way.

Sejic and Marz continue their excellent work in issue #131, which is really a wrap-up to the “War of the Witchblades” story line. Poor Julie’s been left out in the cold, not knowing about Sara’s secret, paranormal life. Now that she has a chance to talk to Gleason (while both of them try to get baby Hope to cooperate with eating and bathing), he sums up what’s been going on in the world for the last six issues. Apparently, Sara’s such a good cop that despite missing shifts and going a little insane during the previous arc, all she’s facing is a slap on the wrist. As for the consequences of the Witchblade’s division and restoration — it looks like Sara may have some work ahead of her keeping the dark side of the balance in check.

Overall, this is a recap issue, and if not for some gorgeous, almost painterly art by Sejic, it would be easily skippable. But from the hilarious joking pout on Julie’s face on the first page to a beautifully colored circular panel of Sara and Dani on the closing page, Sejic’s art continues to shine. Having the wrap-up is a handy way for Top Cow to inform readers that Dani and Finch are moving on into their own series (and possibly a relationship) while making it clear that Sara’s struggle is ongoing. She’s been changed by falling into Darkness, and even though she’s back in control, there may be moments when, faced with evil, she’s tempted to retaliate with her own darkness. Issue #131 isn’t a must-buy episode in the ongoing saga, but it’s definitely worth collecting if you’ve been following the rest of the storyline.

Review by Alana Abbott

Available at Amazon.com

It makes a lot of sense for a small press like Top Cow, which has a lot of great titles on the market, to put everything together into an art book and showcase some of their best pieces. In The Art of Top Cow preview that I received from the publisher, I got to see thirty images of the more than 300 pages that will appear in the final book. Two of them, unfortunately, were nearly naked images of Sara Pezzini of Witchblade that look more like pinups than gallery images; another is a Top Cow poster that features three of the Top Cow women in all their busty glory. Hopefully those three images are not representative of a large portion of the included art (though certainly part of Top Cow’s target audience will surely appreciate them — just not my part of the market share!). In the preview, some of the pieces are really quite excellent, and I’ll highlight some of them quickly here.

Two images that struck me were, of course, by Stjepan Sejic, whose work on Witchblade I’ve been raving about for several reviews. His cover for Witchblade #116 features Sara and Dani, both in full Witchblade armor, ready to kick some butt. Another of his Witchblade images served as the back cover of the trade paperback, volume 7, and is a great profile of Sara with a broken NYC PD badge behind her. These images use the same hyper-realism that I’ve loved in Sejic’s work in the series, and I’m glad to see it here as well. Some of Sejic’s work also appears in two covers for the series First Born, which appears to be set in the Witchblade universe. Both images feature a full cast of characters ranging from dark to light — many of them somewhat more scantily clad than has been typical in most of the work I’ve noticed of Sejic’s on Witchblade. But the attention to detail and the sense of texture remains excellent, and these pieces are stand-outs among the samples.

Several pieces by David Finch also caught my eye — his style is dramatically different from Sejic’s and from the sort of “typical” super-hero comics style featured in some of the other artwork. With a more painterly flare on what has an almost canvas under-texture, Finch depicts the gritty facial expression of the man I presume is the hero of Universe, alongside a monster from the series. The shading is amazing, as he doesn’t use much in the way of color variety, instead giving the piece an almost sepia tone. Another of Finch’s pieces, this one from Ascention, features a dark-skinned demon with unbelievable muscle definition surrounded by skulls on pikes — the composition is incredibly effective.

David Petersen’s work on a cover variant for Dragon Prince again shows the variety of styles embraced by Top Cow. This image depicts a dragon standing in front of a young boy — we see the child’s back as he looks up at the large dragon, who takes up the majority of the frame. Almost stylized like an illustration from a children’s picture book rather than a comic, it’s a piece of artwork that I’d gladly take out of context and use as computer wallpaper — or an image to hang on the wall. The lack of context doesn’t seem to matter for this piece — it stands beautifully well on its own.

A book like this serves the purpose of trying to get readers interested in other titles by the publisher, and I’d definitely say my interest is piqued. I’d try out Weapon Zero, Arcanum, Dragon Prince, The Necromancer, and Rising Stars (which is represented by a phenomenal cover image with faces in what looks like a nuclear cloud behind a foreground of skeletons) based on the images included in the preview. With another 270-odd pages, I’m sure I’d find other titles I’d want to pick up.

Without seeing the complete book (which I assume is a hardcover and is a coffee-table quality volume) it’s hard to say whether this one is worth purchasing, but it’s definitely something I’d look for in my friendly local comic shop to browse through and see if I’d want to have at home. Since I’m not an art collector, nor a comics collector, it probably would not make the addition to my comic shelf, but I’d love to get a look through the whole thing to see what else Top Cow’s been putting out that I’ve been missing.

Review by Alana Abbott

As you could tell from my reviews of the first half of the “War of the Witchblades” arc, back in May, I was loving them. Matt would send me a new PDF from the publisher, and I’d eagerly open it to see the next installment.

Except when I didn’t. That’s right, I completely neglected to download Witchblade #128. Rather than miss the fourth issue in the saga after the download period expired, I did what any self-respecting comics reader (and reviewer) would do — I waited for it to arrive at my friendly local comic shop (FLCS) and bought that sucker. This was a good choice, because without issue #128, the rest of the story wouldn’t have come together so well. Since they’ve been on the shelves for awhile now, I thought I’d review the rest of the “War of the Witchblades” arc, and recommend that you all keep an eye out at your local FLCS for a trade collecting these six issues.

And here’s where the spoilers start:

As before, the artwork by Stjepan Sejic is hyper-realistic and fabulous. The textures he evokes on everything from the outfits of the Angelus to a completely altered by darkness Brooklyn Bridge are perfect. On one page in issue #128, Marz sets the pacing for Gleason to resuscitate using CPR, and Sejic’s sixteen-panel fast sequence is brilliantly overlapped by the action that happens immediately after. But not only is the art beautiful, it’s also expressive, and Sejic captures the emotions of Sara’s complete descent into Darkness against the vulnerability of Dani as she continues her transformation as an agent of the Light. The interplay between the old Chinese wizard who has served as Dani and Gleason’s consultant and the mysterious dark wizard who has been tempting Sara further along the path is equally well depicted — the Chinese wizard’s white whiskers and clothing declaring his allegiance to the Light while his enemy, whom he calls brother, shrouds himself in long dark hair and clothing. They both extend out of their paneled boundaries, as though the traditional format cannot contain them.

As for the story, Marz takes us further down Sara’s descent. In #127, Sara had wounded Dani but been incapacitated by Sabine, leader of the Angelus and hopeful choice of the Angelus Force. As #128 opens, though Gleason is able to save Sara from death, he’s unable to save her from herself, even with the help of Sara’s young daughter Hope, the only one who seems able to reach her. Meanwhile, Dani comes to an agreement with the Angelus: she’ll allow them to help, so long as she is the only one confronting Sara and restoring the balance. In issue #129, Dani determines that Sara has fallen so far into Darkness, she can’t be reached without real, dangerous combat. But while last time they fought, Dani had backup, this time, Sara has creatures of Darkness at her beck and call. Luckily, despite Dani’s instructions, the Angelus descend into Sara’s corrupted version of the Brooklyn Bridge to allow the two Witchblades true combat. We’re treated to an amazing two-page spread of Dani and Sara locked in combat! Sara manages to overpower Dani, and it truly looks like she’s willing to sacrifice her one-time friend when she takes back the Witchblade — but the Angelus Force finally reveals itself to Dani’s friend Fitch, and in issue #130, the Angelus Force makes its final choice of a host: Dani, who could not be the host until the Witchblade was removed from her. (Fitch gets a little gratification herself when, as temporary Host, she passes on the Angelus Force to Dani through a kiss.) Though the Angelus Force wants Sara dead for destroying the balance, Dani is an equal part of the Angelus Force’s power, not just a puppet host as previous incarnations have been. In order to win, Dani must purge the Darkness from Sara, restoring her to her own sanity and bringing the Witchblade back into balance. It’s a great conclusion — and part of what the Witchblade writers had been planning since introducing Dani in issue #100, according to the notes. Having Sara back in control of herself, and back being civil to Gleason, who truly cares about her, and a good sister to Julie, is a great launching point for wherever Witchblade goes next.

I’m looking forward to sticking around for that ride.

Review by Alana Abbott

Available at Amazon.com

I discovered Dakota Cassidy through the League of Reluctant Adults, and have been following her blog for ages. She did an excellent back and forth short fiction piece with Mark Henry (Happy Hour of the Damned, Road Trip of the Living Dead, and the forthcoming Battle of the Network Zombies) that appeared on their web sites (a murder in an America’s Top Model-like environment) featuring characters from Mark’s Amanda Feral series and Dakota’s “Accidentals” series. Having fallen in love with her online writing, I put her books on hold through my library.

And I waited. And waited. And waited. And by the time the first book actually arrived through my library system (where apparently it was too popular at the home library for them to ship to me), Dakota’s fourth book, Accidentally Demonic, started appearing early on bookshelves. When Dakota found out I was a reviewer, she promptly sent me an e-ARC, and so I’ve now finally read a full novel in the “Accidentals” series. My verdict? If the first three are this good, I should have just bought them instead of waiting!

In Accidentally Demonic, Casey Schwartz doesn’t quite remember what she did to end up in jail, but she’s been told it has to do with assaulting an off-duty police officer. The ever-practical Casey, whose career involves keeping two celebutante sisters out of the tabloids, has no idea why she’s become so prone to violence — until Wanda, Nina, and Marty, the stars of the first three “Accidental” novels, let her in on the world of the paranormal. Suddenly, Casey not only has to deal with the idea that her sister Wanda, with whom she’s been out of touch, is a were-vampire, but that the changes happening to her — being able to sling fireballs, levitate, and use super-strength — are permanent. Things get even more complicated when the person responsible for her change, a hottie vampire named Clay, shows up to coach her through the process and instantly sets her libido on fire. Struggling with wanting to blame him for all her new troubles and wanting him naked between the sheets, Casey begins to navigate the paranormal world, only to find out that the demoness Hildegarde, whose blood she now shares, wants her dead, or bound in Hell, whichever comes first.

Dakota writes her “Accidentals” novels just like she writes her blog entries and like she chats on her Vlogs. Her characters use words like “evah” and, once in Accidentally Demonic, use LOL Cats speak. They’re utterly snarky, sometimes potty-mouthed, and all-around appealing characters. The four women are a fabulous support group who really care about each other and are determined to take the paranormal world by its horns. (In Casey’s case, this is sometimes literal.) The romance between Casey and Clay happens fast, which works brilliantly well in context, and the sex scenes are hot. Even the supporting cast is well drawn, from the men who were the love interests in the first three novels (and are now attached to Wanda, Nina, and Marty), to the demons either helping to train or trying to manipulate Casey, to the former vampire manservant Archibald (who steals every scene he’s in with his addiction to cooking shows and too-proper manner of speech). Only Hildegarde seems a little shallow, but being a demon nut-job completely obsessed with eventually winning her man could have that effect on anyone.

I’d definitely categorize Accidentally Demonic as a paranormal romance (readers know from the beginning that the guy and the girl will have a happy ending eventually), but unlike most paranormal romances, the focus here is just as much on the relationships among the women as it is about the relationship between the love interests. That element gives the story a deeper dimension without having to build an incredibly complicated world or huge overarching plot with a good vs. evil sort of battle cast out at the end (ala Nalini Singh’s Psy/Changeling series or Meljean Brook’s Guardians books). The novel is incredibly character-centric, and the idea that this sort of accident happens to otherwise normal people just trying to get by and make their way through life is pervasive. While not as dark as most of the books that show up here at Flames Rising, I’d definitely recommend Accidentally Demonic (and most likely the other “Accidentals”) to anyone who has enjoyed Mark Henry’s Amanda Feral books (or Molly Harper’s “Nice Girls Don’t” novels). Folks who normally don’t read romance should still find the novel appealing — the sex scenes come at logical places and make sense in the plot, rather than seeming like they’re thrown in there just for the heck of it, so they’re not a distraction from the rest of the story — and romance readers will be tickled by the way the relationship between Clay and Casey builds through to the epilogue.

So, don’t wait like I did — go pick it up! Accidentally Demonic and the other accidental novels are on shelves (or available as e-books) now!

Review by Alana Abbott

Available at MorriganBooks.com

This review is long overdue. Matt sent me Grants Pass, an awesome post-apocalyptic anthology edited by Jennifer Brozek and Amanda Pillar (more on why it’s awesome below) this past summer. It may have even been late spring. And after reading the introductions on my computer screen (which, on initial read, made chills creep up and down my spine), the anthology languished on my computer. I could not get myself sitting down in front of the screen long enough to read the carefully crafted short stories, couldn’t explore their interconnectedness while looking at them on a monitor. I printed out the whole pdf onto paper — but the formatting was a little odd, and not only was the collection heavy, the font was so large on the print out that it actually made it difficult to read. The three ring binder I put it in traveled from room to room in my house — but it didn’t open. The book languished… until I decided to try out an e-Reader. In less than a week, I’ve accomplished what it took me months to do: finished reading the whole anthology, cover to cover (as it were).

So a word on the e-book version’s format: if you like reading on your computer screen, this is a well designed pdf, great for that format. If you prefer reading print, I’d advise purchasing a print copy of the anthology, as the pdf does not translate well from screen to printer. My Nook had some formatting issues with the book as well (page lengths don’t always translate well on the Nook, and the drop caps that begin each story were dropped to the bottom of the story’s first page), but I had a very easy time to adapting to reading it that way.

And now into the actual meat of the anthology. In two introductions from the editors, which might have actually been better as afterwords (so as not to prepare the readers so thoroughly for the journey on which they’re about to embark), the concept of Grants Pass is explained: Jennifer once wrote a blog post as a mental exercise that’s much like the one included in the anthology. If the world ends, what would your plan be? What would you take with you? Above all, meet in Grants Pass, Oregon, where other like-minded spirits will be waiting. Written from the voice of Kayley, the blog post starts out the anthology with the premise, and each story refers back to Kayley and her promise for a place where people can find a new home if the apocalypse should happen.

A series of news articles and radio broadcasts describe just that: three terrorist-developed viruses sweep through the world, alongside several natural disasters that are consequences of global warming and other factors. The majority of the people in the world are dead. This section is the one that brought chills: news reports are featured in several languages, and eventually, the speakers break down, from a newscaster on the BBC giving up hope on air to a radio announcement in Spanish declaring that everyone is dead — but calling people to believe in a place called Grants Pass, if there is anyone out there, listening (which the speaker doubts, but pleads is true).

The stories that follow take place all over the world. Some are, understandably, bleak. The strongest selections mix despair and hope, humor and questionable ethics. “Animal Husbandry” by Seanan McGuire is a stand-out: a veterinarian, traveling with an entourage of animals, is held at gun point until she promises to help a little girl who has one of the plagues. Her commentary on the state of humanity after the plague is wry and clever:

I’ve come to see looting as a sort of hopeful omen, a little piece of proof that the human race will manage to recover from what it’s done to itself. I was less pleased to see that my would-be looters had focused their attentions on the junk food aisles and cosmetics, almost completely ignoring the canned goods and well-stocked pharmacy. Maybe that was better for me, but it didn’t bode well for the survival of the species.

That narrative tone makes her questionable decisions by the end of the story seem even colder — and yet, it’s difficult to disagree with her choices. Others have to face those same decisions: do they kill to save their own lives? How do they protect themselves, and others they find along the way, without losing what has made them who they are? In “Men of Faith” by Ivan Ewert, the narrator has to make a decision of whether to be loyal to the people who have been his team on their journey to Grants Pass, or whether to take matters into his own hands when he believes their decisions are wrong. “Remembrance,” the final story, written as a journal found long after the apocalypse, shows how even the right decisions — protecting others from those who would take advantage of them — come with a cost to the conscience.

Two of the stories feature young narrators: “Hells Bells” by Cherie Priest, which is told from the voice of a ruthless child who has no trouble being glad for the deaths of those who are mean to her, and “The Few that Are Good” by Scott Almes, in which a young boy learns from the example of his older brother, beginning with hope in humanity and descending into the lack of ability to trust anyone. “Chateau du Mons,” written by Brozek, features a teen narrator stuck in a foreign land, and is one of the most hopeful stories in the collection as the girl decides to embrace the original intention of her home. Other stories feature narrators on the brink of madness: the narrator in Jeff Parish’s “Final Edition” is a reporter barely holding onto his sanity, if at all; in “Ink Blots,” an Australian woman is sure that the ink from articles she printed out before the computers all died has seeped into her skin and is causing her to go insane; and “Black Heart, White Mourning” features a narrator who was in a psych ward before the end of the world and is now free to do what she pleases. Kayley’s own story is left ambiguously in the Epilogue — her final journal entry does not reveal whether she ever makes it to Grants Pass, but I’d like to believe that she does, and that she finds all those people waiting for her there.

As with most anthologies, some of the stories are stronger than others, some more to one reader’s taste than another’s. The middle of the anthology includes several stories where the narrators have little hope — or little enough sanity that whether or not they can realize their hope is doubtful — that the return to the successes of the characters in “Remembrance” is a breath of relief after so many things have gone wrong for other characters. But despite that weight in the middle, all of the stories have power — whether making the reader question what they might do at the end of the world, or whether the sacrifices of the characters make the reader’s breath catch in the throat, or gulp around the lump forming there. It’s a remarkable collection, and while occasionally the connection to Kayley’s original entry and the hope of Grants Pass seem tangential to the story, the anthology hangs well together as a whole. I highly recommend the book to readers who enjoy post-apocalyptic fiction in general, and to those who find the complex morality of human decision making in the face of everything falling apart in particular.

Review by Alana Abbott

Last week, I talked about the paranormal romance novels that are easy to identify. So, what about paranormal novels that have lots of romance in them but don’t follow the category formula? Or what about novels that sort of follow the formula but have really deep world-building and a plot that reads more like an urban fantasy novel? Some paranormal romances read like romances with paranormal elements slapped on for fun, and others read like serious works of urban fantasy with a romance formula moving beneath the surface. Those are the cases where it’s harder to tell what you’re reading.

I struggled with Meljean Brook’s “The Guardians” series when I first read it because the world building was much deeper than paranormal romances I’d read before, and while the hero and heroine go through the usual pattern, there’s so much at stake in the series that the couple getting together doesn’t necessarily promise an HEA. The whole series also has a larger overarching plot that thickens with each episode, instead of getting closer to a resolution.

For example, if you were looking at “The Immortals” series by Joy Nash, Jennifer Ashley, and Robin Popp, you’d get that same kind of overarching plot — but each romance resolves an issue that must be addressed before the final confrontation of the series (and the subsequent saving of the world). With “The Guardians,” the romances themselves are almost secondary — Jake and Alice, the heroes of Demon Bound, don’t resolve anything in the larger plot by finding each other and building their relationship. They’re both involved in those larger issues, and the plot drives their relationship forward, rather than the other way around. Once I wrapped my brain around how the world of “The Guardians” worked, I really started enjoying the series — but I had to start from the very beginning to make it all come together.

Nalini Singh’s Psy/Changeling series, on the other hand, built the world so intuitively that even though I started in the middle, I felt like I was grasping the larger story. Returning characters move through each book despite having nothing to do with the main romance — they’re movers and shakers in a political game that’s playing out around the heroes and heroines, who are involved in the fate of the world on a much smaller scale. Again, the plot drives the actions of the romantic leads — the romance is a big part of the story, but that’s not where the plot comes from. The plot comes from those larger mechanations of those non-romance-related forces.

I’d classify both series as paranormal romance, because the category romance pattern is clearly there. Despite the romance not driving the plot, but being driven by the larger plot, the same basic structure ties the stories to their category romance siblings. But for paranormal romance, I’d put these two series at the top of the game.

When looking at Richelle Mead’s “Succubus” series or Jeaniene Frost’s “Night Huntress” series, I’m more hesitant to declare my genre affiliation. They don’t follow the pattern. Mead’s novels are more like chick lit — the heroine finds true love but just can’t hold onto it (she’s a succubus, after all). I have hopes that by the end of the series, she’ll get her HEA, but if it takes a whole series to get there, I can’t in good conscience say it’s paranormal romance, whether or not there’s crazy sex.

The same is true with Frost’s novels. The hero and heroine, Cat and Bones, aren’t guaranteed to end up together in the first novel. By midway through the series, readers aren’t getting the usual HEA at the end of each book — they’re getting details of the ongoing relationship between the pair, and how the characters are growing and changing. By At Grave’s End, the third book in the series, the story has become as much about Cat defining her own identity — as a half-human, half-vampire, in which world does she belong? — as it is about her relationship.

Of course, it’s clear that my take on where these books should be placed doesn’t carry much weight in the bigger scene. Big box bookstores tend to put Mead’s novels in the romance section and Frost’s in SF/F — so maybe their category managers know something I don’t know!

Alana Joli Abbott

Matt and I have been talking for a long time about me doing a column here at Flames Rising about different forms of urban fantasy. How can you tell if something is a paranormal romance vs. a true urban fantasy novel (and when it’s just vampire smut)? When is urban fantasy contemporary instead of urban (or is that term out the window)? Are superhero novels actually UF, or are they a different category all together?

The more I read other people writing about defining the subgenres, the more I think that no one actually knows a real, clear cut answer. Until we get more academic papers about the history of urban fantasy and all of its bits and pieces, it’s going to stay amorphous. (And even then, how many UF fans will read the papers on the subject? I’m not sure I will.) But sometimes the subgenre terms can be useful — or, at least, thinking about genre in specific ways can help navigate the genre terrain.

To start this blog out, I thought I’d talk about paranormal romance. Why? Because to me, it seems like the easiest one to get right. There are a lot of novels that could be paranormal romance, but when there are plenty of novels that definitely are that category. Starting from a definite always seems to me like a good thing.

Here’s what you might not know about romance as a category. First off, it’s extremely popular. Back when I was studying publishing trends in the early part of the decade, romance was the best selling category across the board. It sells in grocery stores, Hallmarks, superstores, bookstores, airports — you name it, they’ve got romance novels. The romance category targets a good market, typically adult women with cash to spend. Harlequin sells some novels at extremely low prices, meaning that for the price of one movie in a theater, you could get two or three paperbacks.

Traditional “category romance” (that’s a real, useful term) follows a very precise formula, intentionally. The hero and the heroine meet in chapter one or two, and are immediately attracted to each other, but they are tentative in forming an actual relationship. Once they get to a point where they actually hook up (not always through sex, but usually), something big happens to drive them apart. In the last half to third of the book, the hero and heroine have to overcome this larger challenge to eventually end up together and have their happily ever after.

The best thing about paranormal romance as a category is if it fits the category romance formula, and has supernatural elements, you’ve definitely found one! Plenty of traditional romance authors, including Nora Roberts and Jayne Ann Krentz (who writes her paranormals as Jayne Castle) have dabbled in the supernatural — Roberts with vampires and shape shifters and Krentz/Castle with a planet called Harmony where some people have a knack for hunting “ghosts,” or wild energy. A lot of paranormal romances form a trilogy or a series, where they’re all set in the same world, and may have one, large overarching plot (usually about saving the world, or, at least, a world), but despite that larger feature, the basics of the formula are the same: boy meets girl, boy and girl have issues driving them apart, boy and girl have end “HEA” (happily ever after — it’s such a common phrase in the romance world that it gets its own acronym).

Next time, I’ll talk about some borderline paranormals that aren’t that easy to classify. Until then, happy reading!

Alana Joli Abbott

Available at Amazon.com

There are some rare talents in fantasy these days whose words coast along like poetry while depicting a world full of dark and terrible dangers: drugs, monsters, and magic among them. Crafting a balance between artful and gritty writing – such that the language doesn’t shy away from either side of the equation – is incredibly difficult. Caitlin Kittredge has mastered it.

To my shame, Street Magic, which I received earlier this year as an electronic advance copy, is the first novel I’ve read by Kittredge, despite the fact that I own some of her earlier books. They’ve been sitting on my TBR pile, just waiting for me to catch up with other review titles and series titles that always seem to come first. I can tell you with great confidence: no longer. I’ll be picking one up to read as soon as I finish this review.

Happily, Street Magic: A Ghost Story of Black London is the first in a new series, which means there will be plenty of stories to follow heroine Pete Caldecott, Detective Inspector of the New Scotland Yard. As *Street Magic* opens, readers see a scene twelve years ago, when Pete had her first brush with magic, in the company of Jack Winter, a singer (as far as Pete knew) and a mage. The results are catastrophic: a ghost is freed and Jack is, Pete believes, killed by the spirit, torn to shreds in front of her eyes. But in chapter two, twelve years later, Pete follows up on a tip about a missing girl and finds that Jack is still alive. Despite being a junkie, Jack used his magic to find out where he missing girl could be found, and Pete – who
has given up fancy for logic – takes his advice, against her better judgment. When Jack proves to be right, she believes he might hold the key to finding the next children who have been kidnapped in the same fashion.
Though Jack hates her, for reasons she doesn’t understand, he allows himself to be coerced into helping – and eventually champions the cause when he realizes the depth of the magic behind the kidnappings.

Told through the filter of Pete’s view point, Street Magic dances through both modern London and the alternate Black London – the place where magic thrives beneath the surface – with aplomb. Both worlds are at the same time concrete and ethereal – as though they could shift out from under the characters at any minute, despite their feeling of reality. Both Jack and Pete are real people, seeped in self-doubt while, at the same time, being confident in the abilities they know they have. That seeming contradiction only makes them more solid as characters – they are complex in their feelings and motives, thoughts and actions. Pete is thoroughly aware of when she is making choices that are completely illogical, despite her desire to
embrace her logic, which makes her feel genuine and true to herself: possibly being so for the first time in twelve years, from the moment she first touched magic to when it is suddenly reentering her life.

Most of the other characters are peripheral, and not as fully fleshed as Pete and Jack, but that also serves the narrative. The secondary characters are defined primarily by their relationships to Pete or Jack rather than as entities on their own, making them almost part of the setting rather than individuals. That aspect gives the setting some of its richness – the feeling that the places themselves are alive and moving. Kittredge also uses many of the mythological tropes I love to see appearing: mixed in with demon summoning and witchfire are the Green Man, bansidhe (banshee), and the Morrigan. This is an urban fantasy driven primarily by magic of humans rather than fae (no shapeshifters or vampires in this world thus far), and
that very human centered approach in some ways makes the setting even darker – instead of monsters committing wrongs, men are doing evil against each other. (Nevermind that some of the men have been dead for quite some time.)

Street Magic has just come out in bookstores, and it is well worth picking up. It may well be the best novel I’ve read this year – which is saying something, because I’ve read a number of excellent ones!

Review by Alana Joli Abbott

Available at TopCow.com

When I said that the “War of the Witchblades” arc might be a good place to start reading Witchblade, I was wrong.

It’s a great place to start reading Witchblade.

Now that we’re in the third issue of the arc, things are really starting to come together. The Angelus Force still hasn’t picked a host, but we see that one of the Angelus is really jonesing to be the one who will become the Angelus incarnate. But while this Angelus is the leader of the Angelus warriors — winged creatures that are similar to humans but with supernatural gifts — she’s not what you’d call a role model for the forces of good. She shows no pity, no mercy, and no patience — instead, she seems so arrogant and certain that she is destined to be the host to the Angelus that it’s certain to pass her by for someone more humble.

But despite this, the Angelus leader is in excellent position to do the thing she thinks will earn her the best shot at becoming the host: killing Sara Pezzini. With Sara distracted by Dani and determined to take back the Witchblade in whole — ignoring the safety of her daughter, which shows readers exactly how much the dark side of the Witchblade has taken control of Sara — she makes herself vulnerable to attack by the Angelus warriors. And it’s that vulnerability that could be Sara’s undoing.

There’s some really interesting panel work in 127 — when Sara and Dani are fighting, their patrons (the mysterious Curator for Dani and the possibly evil stranger Tau’ma for Sara) are shown in long panels down the side of a two page spread. The center shows the battle between Sara and Dani while the Curator and Tau’ma watch, saying “No” and “Yes” respectively as Sara appears near defeat. In a scene showing both Dani and Patrick asleep in Sara’s apartment, the panels descend across the page diagonally, offering an almost dreamlike atmosphere simply by their arrangement. As Sara arrives home, she’s outside of the panel — her act of opening the door is painted next to several panels showing what’s going on inside the apartment. When Sara and boyfriend/police partner Patrick are talking, in one panel, they share dialog against a white background. In the following panel of silence, the background switches to black, emphasizing the distance between them. This is really the kind of panel work that I love — taking the medium and creating shapes and story that bend the rules and draw the eye in a different way.

Patrick is an incredibly understanding love interest here. It’s clear that he loves Sara, that he thinks she could be “the one” for him, and he struggles with the influence the dark side of the Witchblade is exerting over her. At the same time, he knows that she’s not herself. He believes it’s possible to save Sara — as does Dani.

Of course, I don’t believe at this point that either of the bearers of the Witchblade will die. I don’t know the series that well at this point, but it seems unlikely that Top Cow would kill off Sara Pazzini, while it’s also true that for the story to progress, it seems likely that the Witchblade needs to be taken away from her for a time. So while the conflict is escalating, and things look truly bad for Sara at the hands of the leader of the Angelus warriors, I’m not worried on her behalf — I’m just extremely eager to see how all of this is going to work out! If your Friendly Local Comic Shop still has issue 125 in stock, do yourself a favor and go pick up this story arc. It may even be worthwhile to read the short recap of Sara’s descent into darkness at the back of issue 127 first, if you don’t mind the spoiler of the last splash page from this issue staring at you as you catch up.

Review by Alana Joli Abbott

Available at TopCow.com

WARNING: This review contains spoilers. If you’re going to read the story arc, read my review of Witchblade 125 and go pick up the series yourself! If you don’t mind being spoiled, continue on ahead.

Witchblade 126 starts to explain a bunch of the questions that began in Witchblade 125. Why does the Angelus force want to kill Sara? Who is the mysterious guy who seems to be connected to the Darkness, and to Sara? As it turns out, when the Witchblade spit, it had to split along the same axis it was created to balance: darkness and light. Sara in issue 126 reveals just how far toward the Darkness she has fallen, while Dani realizes she has to take the Witchblade away from Sara for balance to be restored (and so that Sara doesn’t destroy herself and everyone she cares about).

Of course, the mysterious man convinces Sara that she needs to recover the Witchblade for herself. The stage has been set for the story arc “War of the Witchblades” to start reflecting its title.

This issue feels much shorter, possibly because it didn’t have that short story afterwards to further introduce Gleason. Dani, Finch, and Gleason all come through more clearly as characters with fears, desires, and concerns, and the old Chinese sage (presumably Chinese and presumably a sage — his background isn’t mentioned here) gives both Dani and the readers a clearer idea of what’s going on. The Angelus is indeed interested in Finch, but possibly only because Dani now wields the light side of the Witchblade. Or possibly because the Angelus force thinks Finch will make a good host, which is what I’m pulling for. Sara had a kid with the host of Darkness, after all — it would be balance for the Angelus host to have a crush on Dani!

There are more large panels in this issue, emphasizing Sejic’s colors and hyperrealistic style, which remains one of the draws of this book for folks who haven’t read Witchblade before. In this issue, some of his more Final Fantasy feeling images have the same problem as the Final Fantasy movies — occasionally, the characters are so flawless that they look almost plastic. For the most part, though, the art is excellent, and dark, bitchy Sara comes through incredibly clearly. Her change is obvious from the moment she appears in the issue. Marz weaves the exposition in seamlessly — it comes out through dialog in a natural way, giving readers a clue into what’s transpiring without feeling like we’re being handed the plot. If I have one complaint, it’s that Sara was so much more sympathetic in the previous issue, and the jump to Sara-the-darkness-oriented-bitch is a little fast. It sounds like that change has been building before this storyline, however, and long time readers won’t feel as jolted by the character change. Overall, I’m looking forward to the next issue, and I’m curious how the status-quo will change: will Sara lose the Witchblade forever? Or will there be some way to restore her to her balanced state?

Review by Alana Abbott

Available at TopCow.com

Coming into the middle of a story is always tough, even in comics. The intro at the beginning of most ongoing series catches readers up – but only if they already have a basic idea of the mythology. The delightful thing about Witchblade #125 is that, even with only half of an idea about what’s going on in the series (I’ve read an earlier volume and caught a Free Comic Book Day promo last year), the art work was so hyper-realistic and intriguing that I was drawn into the characters regardless of the plot.

Since I tend to read novels and comics predominantly for story and character, the art pulling me in so dramatically is a big deal for me. I haven’t seen this style before, and Stjepan Sejic (if he is also the colorist) is doing tremendous work with lighting, making some of his images look almost Final Fantasy realistic.

Witchblade #125 begins a new story arc: War of the Witchblades. When we enter the story, Sara (who has had the Witchblade – a magical weapon/armor/source that makes its host responsible for balancing the forces of Darkness and the Angelus – for some time) is visiting her sister Julie in prison, where she’s been for drug related charges. The relationship between Sara and Julie comes alive on the page; it’s obvious from both the subtleties in the dialog and the expressions on the faces of the sisters how
deep their relationship is (though it has apparently been through plenty of ups and downs). There are also hints that Sara’s baby daughter, Hope, understands far more than she should at her age – she cries when Sara talks about her estrangement from (and condemning judgment of) the other half of the Witchblade, Dani. The relationship between Sara and Julie is more convincing than the later relationship shown between Sara and her police partner and boyfriend (not Hope’s father), Gleason. This could be due to the complications inherent in their relationship – based on a short comic that ends this issue, focusing on Gleason, it’s clear he’s more invested in Sara than she is in him, and that he’s unsure of how to be the partner (in either sense) to the woman who bears the Witchblade.

Dani is dealing with the new implications of her relationship with Finch, a woman who is in some way at the heart of the estrangement between Sara and Dani. Finch is interested in making their friendship something more, and the chemistry between the two women shows on the page, but whether that chemistry is just intensity of emotion or whether it’s a one-sided interest in being more than friends is hard to tell. Dani puts Finch off as “just friends” – but another force has taken an interest in Finch. This is where knowing the mythology would be helpful: the synopsis explains that the Angelus Force is looking for a Host (and is also trying to kill Sara – really, the forces of “good” are trying to kill the Witchblade?). The being that appears to have an interest in Fitch could well be the energy source for the Angelus. Or, it could be some other supernatural I just haven’t encountered in the Witchblade universe.

Overall, this is a strong beginning for a storyline. Ron Marz’s writing is as strong I’ve come to expect from him (I was a fan of his work on the Crossgen universe), and his dialogue reads incredibly naturally. This isn’t a bad place to pick up your first Witchblade (especially considering Sejic’s art – wow!), but it might be worth buying or reading an earlier graphic novel to get a better feel for the world.

Review by Alana Abbott