Bits Of News

I read a lot of blogs by other writers, and I’ve noticed that at one time or another all of them have been visited by the Not Worthy Monkey. That devious little bastard that sits on your shoulder, whispering in your ear about how bad a writer you are, how no-one will ever be interested in what you’re doing. He always comes visiting when you’re at your lowest and so more open to his bogus “advice”. The little bugger turned up on my doorstep about a week or so ago, totally unannounced he plonked himself into by chair, pulled my laptop over and started reading, giggling as he went.

My current WiP had been going well, part one wrote and with beta readers, and part two progressing better than I’d thought. But he was doing his utmost to put paid to that feeling of wellbeing that has been with me for the most part of this year. That feeling that finally I’d hit on something that might just do it, might just get people interested in what I had to say. In the space of a couple of days I hit snag after snag. Characters wouldn’t behave and the flow stalled. Since he came calling my writing has been hit and miss, going from everyday to every other day, and then every other other day. I was despondent, finding excuses not to open the file up and start writing, the Not Worthy Monkey was winning.

Then last night that all changed. It’s amazing how effective two emails can be to lifting the spirit.

I submitted a short story to the third in Pill Hill Press’ Monster Hunter anthology collection – Use Enough Gun - close to a year ago. I’d already had my story Groundhog Day published in the second volume and was over the moon to be accepted again. Then things went a bit awry at Pill Hill, the result being the site closed and all the authors were told the rights to their stories had reverted back to them. But then came Miles Boothe like a veritable knight in shinning armour, he took up the challenge and created Embry Press, a new publication house that would be specializing in stories about monster hunters. Whilst he was sorting things out he told all authors accepted by Pill Hill that he would be carrying on with publication of the third volume.

Last night I had an email from him, it had attached the edits for my story Jack, he’d indicated some changes that helped the pace and tone of one of the action scenes. He also put a note on the email saying he felt that this story was the best work I’d done. Four little words, best work I’d done, that’s all it took and the Monkey was riled, his grip on me weakened and he was starting to become dislodged. But I wasn’t out of the woods yet, he was still in my head, his case still unpacked.

Then I had a second email, this one was from Douglas Strider – author of the brilliant Space Danger: The Deadly Planet of Death -, Doug is someone I’ve know for about a year on Twitter, his a fellow budding authour, and he kindly accepted my request to beta read the first part of my current WiP. He’d done a great job, he’d given me lots of comments, ideas and a huge barrel of encouragement. He liked what I’d done and how I’d done it, and what’s more he wanted to find out what happens next. I was high on praise and my back sore from all the clapping. The Monkey, he was on the doorstep his case in hand, a dejected look on his face as he went on his way.

Now I have my laptop back, now I have my mojo back, the Monkey banished – for now – but I’m not complacent cos I know if I’m not mindful he’ll be back.

To Miles and Doug I’d like to say’s thanks, you’ve lifted a flagging writers spirits a thousandfold.

Chuck Wendig Flash Fiction Challenge – Burns The Fire Brightly

For the second time in a week, I come over Shatter Hill at midnight and see fire at the crossroad below. Not an unusual event in itself, everyone knew it was the quickest way in and out of Hell. But the past two occasions had happened during Holy week, and everyone knew it was frowned on to travel when angels were about. Not that anyone had seen hide nor feather of the Blessed Folk in a long time, but that was another issue.

I pulled on the reigns and the mule whinnied before stubbornly stopping, we both sat there looking down as the last embers flickered and died, leaving a prone figure face down in the dust. The mule whinnied again, eager to be off, but the situation intrigued me and once intrigued I liked to see a thing through. A man who had no right travelling the night road at this particular time had dropped by, it was my duty to find out why. I clicked my tongue, the mule looked over its shoulder, a quizzical look on its face; and with a snort it jerked forwards.

The man was tall and lean, dressed in a uniform that was tattered and blackened in places. I knew a soldier when I saw one, I’d been one, still was. This one was different, his skin grey, mottled. His skull totally hairless, one hand was under his body, but the other was stretched out; the hand looked withered and only hand three fingers. The mule sniffed and then whinnied, stamping one hoof on the hard packed ground. I’d learned long ago to listen to the reactions of animals; they had a sense beyond the norm. But I was committed and swung myself off the seat and walked over to the man.

Kneeling beside the body there was a peculiar smell, sweet, cloying, like spoiled meat. It reminded me of the aftermath on a battle field; the dead piled high, carrion filling the sky. I reached out and pushed the body over, he was light as a feather. I stepped back and will admit I was surprised, not a bad trick as usually nothing catches me out. Stretched out looking up the man was stranger than I could have imagined. The head was misshapen, long, stretched almost. The features flattened; the nose just two slots between the eyes and mouth. The eyes were big, way too big for the head. It gave a groan, the mouth just a line, no lips and no teeth from what I could see.

“Hnnxshhuiio…” I didn’t understand what it was saying, which was strange?

“What you saying there fella?” The eyes flickered open, black pools, all pupil. I crouched down next to it, reached over and placed a hand on the chest, feeling around. I’d reached its abdomen before I got a rhythm. “You a long way from home?”

It opened its mouth, the eyes wavering around, trying to focus. “Where…”

“That’s better, got the beat of you now.” I took my hand off and sat back on my haunches. “You fell, not sure where from cos I not seen the like of you before.”

“Earth…”

“Earth?” I looked up and down the length of it. “You ain’t like nothing that walks there.”

“Attacked…had to defend ourselv…” The eyes drooped and its head fell sideways. It was normal for any traveler coming through to be disorientated, but this was different. I suppose it not being of the Earth the reaction was different, thing is, if it’s not from there then how had it come to be here?

I looked back at the mule; it looked at me with those sad eyes then down at whatever our new friend was.

“Can we keep it?”

“It ain’t supposed to be here.”

The mule looked up into the eternal darkness above.

“What if more come?”

I smiled; what indeed. The crossroads were meant only for humans, but seemed someone had found a way to send something different through. What was their intention, to threaten us, to force us into a reaction? Who knows, it’s been so long I’d forgotten how humans think.

“We’ll have to take him in.” I looked back at the mule, he had the right of it; this would have to be reported.

“Aye, suppose you’re right.” I got up and headed to the back of the wagon and grabbed the edge of the tarpaulin. “He ain’t gonna like it though.”

I flung the tarp back; another body lay on the bed of the wagon. This was the one from a few days ago, he at least was human, but looking at him properly I realized I’d missed before that he too was in uniform, his too tattered and blackened. I looked past the mule at the prone figure and then back at the one in the wagon and whistled. I shook my head as I walked over and picked the figure up; walking back I looked the mule in the eye.

“If they’re fighting a war up there; there’ll be hell to pay.”

The mule brayed with laughter.

 

All Rights Reserved © Philip J Norris April 2013

The First Law Graphic Novel

For the past few days Joe Abercrombie has been teasing fans on his blog with early drafts of artwork. It was obvious to most early on that these teases were pointing towards an comic adaptation of Joe’s first book The Blade Itself. Today the full announcement has been made via Joe’s blog.

http://www.joeabercrombie.com/2013/04/10/the-first-law-graphic-novel-2/

The First Law graphic novel will be available FREE to anyone who has an internet connection, the site is now live.

http://www.firstlawcomic.com/

And new pages will be added every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. In addition to these freely available versions, you can also buy hard copies via Comixology - http://www.comixology.com/ - and there are also plans for hardback versions of collected series later.

This is great news, I’ve been a long time fan of Joe’s work and feel this only opens his work up to a whole new audience. And who knows, maybe if this is as successful as his prose then we may one day see a screen adaptation (you listening HBO?)

 

Between Two Thorns – Book Review

Title: Between Two Thorns

Author: Emma Newman

Publisher: Angry Robot

Published: Out Now

RRP: Print £8.99 – Kindle £5.49

Something is wrong in Aquae Sulis, Bath’s secret mirror city.

 The new season is starting and the Master of Ceremonies is missing. Max, an Arbiter of the Split Worlds Treaty, is assigned the task of finding him, with no-one to help but a dislocated soul and a mad sorcerer. There is a witness, but his memories have been bound by magical chains only the Arbiter’s enemies can break. A rebellious woman trying to escape her family may prove to be the ally Max needs.

 But can she be trusted, she a daughter of one of the Great Families of Aquae Sulis, a family allied to one of the most powerful Fae Lords. And why does she want to give up eternal youth and the life of privilege she’s been born into?

This is a beautifully crafted story, the characters fit, the settings fit; everything fits. Reading it you’d expect it to be the author’s 4^th or 5^th book, but this is Emma Newman’s debut novel; and it doesn’t show. Emma’s been very ambitious leading up to the release of this book, she embarked on a project of releasing a short story a week for a year, all set somewhere within the Split Worlds. I signed up and received an email every week and really enjoyed them all. It was a taste of what was to come, but upon starting this book I realised she’d saved the best for these pages.

Long ago there was a war between the Fae and sorcerers, the sorcerers won and the Split Worlds were created. The normal world (our world called Mundanus and humans are referred to as Mundanes) is devoid of magic and is off limits to the Fae. The Fae are trapped in Exilium, a prison from which there is no escape. Between the two, the Nether – neither here nor there – a world locked in time, its people living a strict caste system, a world where the puppets of the Fae live and plot and scheme. Great Families; all allied to one Fae Lord or another, all vying for power. But much like the Fae they too are trapped in their own prison. Making sure the Fae and Great Families behave – and do not interfere in Mundane life – are the Arbiters, soulless guardians immune to Fae magic, led by a sorcerer who has the power to force the Fae and their puppets to do as they are bid.

This is the Split Worlds, each world unlike the other. It’s a nice twist that Exilium – the Fae prison – is seen as a beautiful world, full of colour, dance, music. Whereas the Nether is dull monochrome, a silver sky, no stars, no sun, no day, no night; its people ageless and trapped. Emma manages to bring each of these worlds vividly to life, no detail is left unclear, the worlds themselves characters as well.

Emma’s work over the previous year with her weekly short stories means she is freed up here to get straight into the story. That being said you can read this without having prior knowledge of what came before; there is ample world building so you know what is what, and who is who. Several strands are started in the opening chapters that run the length of the book, and interestingly not all the strands are tied off in the closing chapters. There are a couple of late reveals that leave the book on a sort of cliff hanger. This bodes well for the future of the Split Worlds.

I was pleasantly surprised by this book; I’ve recently got into stories about Fae and Fae magic. This adds a nice twist to that mythology and it’s obvious from the off that Emma knows and loves what she is writing about.

Rivers Of London – Review

Title: Rivers Of London

Author: Ben Aaronovitch

Publisher: Gollancz

Published: Out Now

RRP: Print £7.99 – Kindle £1.99

My name is Peter Grant, and until January I was just a probationary constable in that mighty army for justice known as the Metropolitan Police Service (or the Filth). My only concerns were not getting assigned to the Case Progression Unit and how to get into WPC Leslie May’s pants. Then one night I tried to take a witness statement from someone who’d been dead for over a century, that brought me to the attention of DI Nightingale, the last wizard in England.

 Now I’m a DC and trainee wizard, the first apprentice in fifty years, and my world has become a whole lot more complicated. Nests of vampires in Purley, digging up graves in Covent Garden, brokering a peace between the warring gods and goddesses that rule over the Thames and its tributaries. But there’s something festering at the heart of the city I love, a malicious, vengeful spirit that takes ordinary people and turns them into grotesque mannequins to act out its drama of violence and despair.

 The spirit of riot and rebellions has awakened in the city, and its fallen to me to bring order to the chaos; or die trying.

 I’ve been hearing about the PC Grant books for a while, I’d always steered away because I was worried that it would just be a Harry Potteresque story, about an apprentice who is better than everyone else and shows the experts how to do it. I’m glad to say that when I finally did get round to picking a copy up that I was so wrong.

There are elements of Harry Potter in there – the story has magic – but its how Harry Potter would have been if he’d been ten years older, a lot more cynical and was born a raised in London. Peter Grant is not your ordinary wizard; he’s not your ordinary copper. He over-thinks things too much, but in over-thinking them he manages to see what is there better than some others. Deemed to be too cerebral to be an ordinary copper Peter is sidelined into the Case Progression Unit, his role, in-putting all the data “ordinary” coppers collate. It’s a dead-end assignment and not what he’d signed up for; lucky for him the guy he took a witness statement from one cold January morning happened to be a ghost.

One dead body, one ghost witness and Peter’s life is turned upside down. Within days he is thrust into a world of magic, gods, demons and other creatures that shouldn’t be allowed into polite society. To his credit Peter handles the transition fairly well, he guided through the rules and pitfalls that come with him being an apprentice. He is introduced to age old agreements between the supernatural world and the Metropolitan Police Service. But something is hell bent on tearing that fragile peace to shreds.

The plot slowly builds, each set piece introducing Peter – and the reader – to the hidden world that coexists alongside ours. There is a lot of interesting history thrown in for good measure, showing the author has gone out of his way to set his story in a grounded reality. I liked the fact that London itself is a character in the story, its streets, buildings and the rivers that flow through it, all have a part to play and add something to the tale as a whole.

If I had any niggles it’s that I’d liked to have seen more of DI Nightingale, but I suppose this isn’t his story, and seeing there are already three more books in the series out, I’m guessing more of his story will come out as Peter’s training progresses.

Evolution Of An Idea

Idea’s, I have plenty. Idea’s for short stories, idea’s for novellas, novels, screenplays, flash fiction. But – as a great writer once said – to have an idea is not enough, no matter how good the idea. The trick is to formulate that idea into something less foglike, turn it into a solid thing, a thing that can be picked up, tinkered with, polished, perfected, made into something other’s would like to get on board with and maybe – someday – look round and say “hey, that’s a great idea.”

Idea’s, what to do with them? Plot and plan, sit and make a spreadsheet, detailing every nuance, every minute details down to what colour thong your protagonist is where today? Or just run with them, see where they take you as they whoop and holler across the fields of your imagination. I’ve never been that much of a planner, I’ve tried, sat and worked out what the characters are like, their stories, their histories. But then part way in I get that feeling that instead of spending time doing this I could actually be writing. Everyone ha their own way of doing it, their own rituals that have to be performed in exactly the right order so as to raise the story from the ooze. My way – like most of my life – is to just wing it.

Life In The Fastlane – my current main WiP – started life as a short story, a military steampunk with ingredients from SF and fantasy. An alternate history of the mid-20th century. But after submitting it to several magazines – and getting rejected but some nice feedback – it started to become more than a self contained story. The characters were crying out for release, their world began breaking the bounds of just over 6,000 words and demanding to procreate. So it was the short story became part one of a bigger story and the idea began to evolve.

It wasn’t a conscious effort, I didn’t find myself sitting for hours working out which direction to go. I made adjustments to the initial short story – which is now out with beta readers – and dived headlong into part two. It was this headlong dive that became a bit of a marathon, resulting in part two surpassing part one in words and character view points. As of the end of March part two is nearly complete – well the first draft is – and is bordering on a novella all on its own. I already know where to go in part three, but I have no map to take me there, I’ll be jumping on that wing again.

Where am I going with this? Nowhere, I’m rambling, making my inner thoughts public. I feel it helps to vent every now and then. But I just wanted to get it out there, feel some sort of release. With parts 1 & 2 almost in the bag part 3 is the biggy, its the one that could make or break the whole project. I’m entering into unknown territory, beyond 25,000 words territory.

But I have an idea I know how this will play out, I just hope it’s an idea people can get on board with.

 

 

Ack-Ack Macaque by Gareth L Powell – Book Review

Title: Ack-Ack Macaque

Author: Gareth L Powell

Publisher: Solaris

Published: Out Now

RRP: Print £5.62 – Kindle £4.86

In 1944, when waves of German Ninja’s parachute into Kent, Britain’s only hope lies with a Spitfire pilot code named ‘Ack-Ack Macaque’. The trouble is Ack-Ack Macaque is a cynical, one-eyed, cigar chomping, booze swilling, foul mouthed monkey. And he’s starting to doubt everything, even his very existence.

 2059 is a world where France and Great Britain merged in the late 1950s to form the core of the glorious Commonwealth of Europe and nuclear powered Zeppelins ply the skies. Ex-Journalist Victoria Valois finds herself drawn into a deadly game of cat and mouse with the man who butchered her husband, and stole her electronic soul. In Paris, after taking part in an illegal breaking at a research laboratory, the heir to the throne goes on the run, with a self aware cynical talking monkey who wants answers.

 And all the while the Doomsday clock ticks towards Armageddon.

Ack-Ack Macaque started life as a short story in the pages of Interzone, the same year it was published the readers of the magazine voted it the year’s best story. The short story is included in this book, allowing the reader to see the evolution of the character and what was kept in and what was taken out.

This book is a story within a story, partly set in an alternative WWII, with Ack-Ack Macaque fighting off hoards of black clad German Ninja warriors. And partly set in 2059, a future with an alternative past to what we know now. The link between the two is the title character. How, you might ask, does the character fit into two time frames 115 years apart? Well that would be giving a little too much away, but let’s put it this way, he does fit in both time frames, and it doesn’t involve any complicated time travel plot.

The move from past to present is deftly done, almost seamless, and allows the character to carry on unchanged. He is assisted in his adventures by a supporting cast that are not what you would expect to be adventurous, danger seekers. Of the bunch the heir to the throne is the most interesting, and because of events shares a common ground with Macaque.

The action is handled well, no-one, except the monkey, is a skilled fighter, and the author manages to put this across well. People are clumsy, they get injured; they make mistakes. This gives the action a more realistic feel for me. Too often in books, TV and films you see an average Joe take on the big bad and become an expert fighter overnight. Here this does not happen.

I nice touch is the inclusion of news items, blog posts, scattered between the chapters, about events happening in the story and in the wider world. It helps build a bigger picture without coming across as info-dumping. It’s also is a nifty way of world building.

If I have one criticism it’s there are a lot of long talky segments in the middle section, talky segments that made the middle drag. I’m not sure if these were put in to bulk the book out to novel length, but for me they seemed superfluous, as several times the conversations were just going over ground that had been covered. As a reader I think of myself as fairly perceptive, I can get the gist of what’s going on without having to be reminded.

All in all this is a rip roaring adventure yarn, with a smattering of steampunk, a smidge of alternative sci-fi and a lead character that seriously kicks-ass.

Game Of Thrones S3 Trailer & Episode List

Following post will container spoilers for non-book readers.

 

Been a while since I said anything about the fast approaching S3 of HBOs Game Of Thrones (March 31st USA/April 1st UK). Unless you’ve been in a cave the past week you will no doubt already have seen the trailer.

Yesterday HBO released a list of episode titles…

1: Valar Dohaeris
2: Dark Wings, Dark Words
3: Walk of Punishment
4: And Now His Watch is Ended
5: Kissed by Fire
6: tbc
7: The Bear and the Maiden Fair
8: tbc
9: The Rains of Castamere
10: Mhysa

Some interesting titles there and follows some speculation as to what they may relate to.

SPOILERS AHOY!!

 

 

 

Ep.1 – Valar Dohaeris (translated = all men must serve) is the traditional reply in High Valerian to Valar Morghulis (translated = all men must die and the title of S2/ep10), so we may get some Ayra action, possibly involving the Brotherhood Without Banners?

Ep.2 – Dark Wings, Dark Words – Ravens have dark wings and carry messages around the kingdoms. Does this possibly allude to Robb and/or Catylin receiving news of the “death” of Bran and Rickon?

Ep.3 – Walk Of Punishment – not sure about this, some link to what the Brotherhood is about maybe, or Theon’s fate?

Ep.4 – And Now His Watch Is Ended – obviously relates to the Nights Watch, could allude to the battle/aftermath of the battle at the Fist of the First Men. Or it could allude to events at Crasters Keep.

Ep. 5 – Kissed By Fire – obvious choice is Yrgitte, so could involve what Jon is up to with Mance’s army. But I wonder if it might be a reference to Sandor Clegane (his burn scar is him being “kissed by fire”) and his duel with Ser Beric (and his flaming sword).

Ep. 7 – The Bear And The Maiden Fair – this is a song in the books and is sung several times, it could also allude to Ser Jamie, Brienne and a certain bear pit.

Ep. 9 – The Rains Of Castermere – any book fan will know what this points towards, its a massive event. Not saying anymore than that.

Ep. 10 – Mhysa – Myhsa is the Ghiscari word for “mother” and is what the freed slaves cal Daenerys.

It’s all shaping up to be another great season, possibly one of the best considering the ground it will travel.

 

 

So, February…

A day early but…

So February…

Another month down, ten more to go until I hit the big 50; so what did February do for me?

BOOKS

Quite a mixed bag this month…

First up there was Space Danger: The Deadly Planet of DEATH by Doug Strider. I had an early look in on this as Doug (who I’ve known on Twitter for about a year) asked me to beta read for him. Great little novella, with funny settings, characters and a story that whips along nicely. If you like Douglas Adams & Terry Pratchett you’ll like this.

Man to Man by D.E.M. Emrys is a tight short story about a grizzled warrior who just wants to get on with his life and forget his past. But the past doesn’t stay away for long.

The Alchemist of Souls by Anne Lyle, you can see my review below this post.

 

Still reading…

Dreams and Shadows by Robert Cargill is a quirky read, shades of Neil Gaimen so I’ve been told (never read him so will have to take their word for that). If you like stories about creatures that live unseen alongside the “real” world, this is for you.

Ack-Ack Macaque by Gareth L Powell is brilliant so far. Funny and gripping, plus who can’t love a foul mouthed, cigar chomping, booze swilling one-eyed gun totting monkey.

TV & MOVIES

Still keeping up with The Following (Sky Atlantic), though I do fear it’s in danger of over arcing itself. Nearly mid-way through S1 and the tank is being filled with water, the shark is on its way and the bike prepped for the jump. This show is in danger of losing itself in its own backstory, too many flashbacks (memories of LOST) and not enough answers. It needs to either give something back to the viewer in the way of answers, or have the bad guy’s cock-up once in a while. The whole “everything is pre-planned” theme its using is wearing thin and getting to the point of being unbelievable (how can Carroll – who is in prison and has been for years – know Hardy will be somewhere/do something at a set time so he can counteract it).

Halfway into the re-watch of S2 of Game of Thrones (Sky Atlantic), still by far the best thing on TV by far. S3 is only a few weeks away, there will be blood, and dragons. Ripper Street (BBC1) is still gripping stuff, dark and brutal and my hat goes off to the BBC for not toning it down in any way.

Went to the flicks this month and caught A Good Day To Die Hard. Bruce is still king, yes it was corny, yes it was OTT, but hey – Yippe Kiyay Mother Russia.

WRITING

Slight downer with the writing this month, all the short stories I had out in the big bad world have now come back with rejection slips. Very disheartening, but it goes with the territory. I’m already looking at other outlets to send them to.

The TV script has been put on hold; hit a few snags that need ironing out so looks like I may miss the BBC Writers Room Spring window.

Prepping is all done on the post apocalyptic novel, and the alternate history one.

Current full on WIP is a short story I wrote a year ago that I’m re-working into a novella or (possible) novel. Part one is out with beta readers, part two is about a third wrote. Not rushing it, still trying to keep to my writing plan of having a finished novel by the end of the year.

The Alchemist Of Souls by Anne Lyle – Book Review

Title: The Alchemist of Souls

Author: Anne Lyle

Publisher: Angry Robot

Published: Out Now

RRP: Print £8.99 – Kindle £4.38

When Tudor explorers returned from the New World, they brought back with them a name out of half forgotten Viking legend – Skayling’s – and following in those explorers wake came red sailed ships, native American goods, and a Skrayling ambassador to Queen Elizebeth I court.

 Mal Catlyn, a down on his luck sword for hire, is seconded to the Skrayling’s guard as the Ambassador’s personal bodyguard – at his behest – but assassinations are the least of Mal’s worries. What he learns about the Skrayling’s, their unholy powers, could cost England her new ally; and Mal his soul.

If you like your historical fiction with a twist then this is for you. Anne Lyle has obviously taken a lot of time to learn about the period she is writing in, the muddied streets of Elizabethan London jump from the page, full of colourful characters, sinister plots and rip roaring adventure. On top of this she has layered an alternative history where Queen Elizabeth I married and has children, as if that wasn’t enough to create another timeline she has added the Skrayling’s – creatures from legend – to add to the political melting pot that was Europe in the late 1500s.

The plots and schemes that were famously around during that time are still there, numerous characters seem to be working to their own agenda, whilst proclaiming to be working for the Crown. The mystery at the core of the story though has nothing to do with the plots and machinations of high ranking peers. It’s a story of lost love, murder and possession.

Mal Catlyn serves well as the main character, he hides secrets of his own, carries a burden that could see him accused a traitor and hanged. He is ably assisted by Ned and Corby – a young gay man and a girl pretending to be a boy, both of whom work in the theatre – both of whom are well equipped to deal with the dangers of living in London at that time, and both of whom on more than one occasion save the day and possibly Mal’s life.

The story rattles along at a healthy pace, there is little time to catch your breath as Mal and his friends go from working for the Crown, to fugitives, to heroes. The action is handled well and the suspense kept bubbling nicely to keep you engaged. If I have any qualms it’s that everyone, no matter their standing in society, seems to have easy access in and out of several important castles – including the Tower of London. I’m unsure what the level of security was in the late 1500s, but I imagine it to have been tighter than this.