C. J. Daley
Thanks to Tantor for the audio of this one. I’m not sure if I missed this one for super long or if it came back around to be honest, but I enjoyed my experience with it.
Five novellas, all of pretty similar length, are featured in this collection and it marks my first read from the author. The narration by Joe Hempel was solid, and I enjoyed the voice work he did. The same can be said for Amy McFadden, I just get shook up when the production changes people, but this was for a separate novella, so it worked.
Skullbelly, the first novella, was a great introduction to the author with a narrative voice that felt reminiscent of King. A private investigator is hired to look into the disappearances of multiple teens. A group of friends went hiking and only one returned, covered in the other’s blood. It turns into this sort of no-where-to-turn boogeyman search when many of the townsfolk won’t help—or at least, won’t help as much as they should. I thought it was well written and paced.
The Separation, the second novella, features a therapist and friend visiting Germany to see how their prizefighting friend, Charlie, is holding up. He claims to feel unmoored, that things are happening that he’s not in control of, that he’s not doing at all. His ex claims that he is bothering her in the night. This felt like an atmospheric, multiversal Inception twist and I enjoyed the ending allowing some interpretation.
The Stranger, novella three, is a single location story that features a couple on two different wavelengths. The man, is not quite sure what he’s still doing with her, and the woman, is hopelessly interested. When a creepy stranger locks himself in their car, things get a little strange…or more like insane. I wasn’t married to this story, mirroring the couples own struggles, but one things that sold me was how uncomfortable it made me. Weird, random, and out there, that is where this was succeeded.
After the Fade, the fourth novella, was spectacular. The standout for me for sure. A precursor of sorts to a zombie(-ish) apocalypse. Another couple on the fritz, a musician and his girlfriend agree to meet at the local bar to talk. Although she does arrive, they never get to have that normal talk. That’s because things get awfully strange. A woman arrives at the bar before collapsing, some sort of insect attached to the back of her head. What followed was another single location story as the bar patrons attempt to make it through the night. I thought this was great, pulse pounding, and as a survival story, the author thought out a lot of the things that seem mundane in everyday life. Windows, doors, heating vents, fireplaces and chimneys, how many other entry points do we ignore every day?
The fifth novella is left off the blurb, so I will not go into any detail on it. But I did enjoy it. It was perhaps my least favorite, but we’re still talking an enjoyable read. As a collection, this offered readers quite a good variety. As a snapshot into the author’s writing style, I think that variety was key too, especially as the collection features longer stories. Enjoyable and different.
Thanks to Tantor for the audio of this one. I’m not sure if I missed this one for super long or if it came back around to be honest, but I enjoyed my experience with it.
Five novellas, all of pretty similar length, are featured in this collection and it marks my first read from the author. The narration by Joe Hempel was solid, and I enjoyed the voice work he did. The same can be said for Amy McFadden, I just get shook up when the production changes people, but this was for a separate novella, so it worked.
Skullbelly, the first novella, was a great introduction to the author with a narrative voice that felt reminiscent of King. A private investigator is hired to look into the disappearances of multiple teens. A group of friends went hiking and only one returned, covered in the other’s blood. It turns into this sort of no-where-to-turn boogeyman search when many of the townsfolk won’t help—or at least, won’t help as much as they should. I thought it was well written and paced.
The Separation, the second novella, features a therapist and friend visiting Germany to see how their prizefighting friend, Charlie, is holding up. He claims to feel unmoored, that things are happening that he’s not in control of, that he’s not doing at all. His ex claims that he is bothering her in the night. This felt like an atmospheric, multiversal Inception twist and I enjoyed the ending allowing some interpretation.
The Stranger, novella three, is a single location story that features a couple on two different wavelengths. The man, is not quite sure what he’s still doing with her, and the woman, is hopelessly interested. When a creepy stranger locks himself in their car, things get a little strange…or more like insane. I wasn’t married to this story, mirroring the couples own struggles, but one things that sold me was how uncomfortable it made me. Weird, random, and out there, that is where this was succeeded.
After the Fade, the fourth novella, was spectacular. The standout for me for sure. A precursor of sorts to a zombie(-ish) apocalypse. Another couple on the fritz, a musician and his girlfriend agree to meet at the local bar to talk. Although she does arrive, they never get to have that normal talk. That’s because things get awfully strange. A woman arrives at the bar before collapsing, some sort of insect attached to the back of her head. What followed was another single location story as the bar patrons attempt to make it through the night. I thought this was great, pulse pounding, and as a survival story, the author thought out a lot of the things that seem mundane in everyday life. Windows, doors, heating vents, fireplaces and chimneys, how many other entry points do we ignore every day?
The fifth novella is left off the blurb, so I will not go into any detail on it. But I did enjoy it. It was perhaps my least favorite, but we’re still talking an enjoyable read. As a collection, this offered readers quite a good variety. As a snapshot into the author’s writing style, I think that variety was key too, especially as the collection features longer stories. Enjoyable and different.
Huge thanks to Gallery Books for the physical arc! What a gorgeous cover.
Beautiful. Eloquent. And masterfully written. A tale weaved so sweetly that by the time you realize its vines are poisonous, it’ll be far too late.
Cordelia Beecher—Cordi, is on the hunt for her missing brother. They grew up together in an orphanage, and even though he was turned out the moment he hit adulthood, he continued to write her, swearing to come back for her. But when the letters stop, she knows something must have happened. He wouldn’t just stop answering right—wouldn’t change his mind? No, of course not, and Cordi is steadfast in that belief. As is her determination in finding him. This quest for answers delivers her to the doorstep of Edenfield estate. The home of a local botanist, and if the rumors are anything to go by, local witch. Will the estate hold the answers she’s after, or will it take even more from her?
I have to say, the author’s release with Shortwave Media, Cicada, which I happened to enjoy quite a lot, was so drastically different from this. This novel is gothic, and grandiose, and has such a direct voice to it. It’s impressively different in tone. It reads like a different writer, and that’s immensely challenging to achieve. It felt like stumbling upon an entirely new author.
After the opening of the novel, this does a really great job of creating atmosphere in a single location. Edenfield is both romantically huge, explorable and exciting with its locked wings and lush gardens, as well as dark, dusty, and filled with possible dangers in unexpected places. While Cordi functions as the help, she is also doing her best to search for answers—both while alone as well as gaining trust and asking pointed questions. The botanist’s daughters, Prim and Briar, add mystery and intrigue, allowing the author to sprinkle in desire, hope, and deception, while also offering hints at the truth through the way they interact with Cordi.
Cordi functions as an intriguing and multilayered lead. The charity they grew up in featured abuses unimaginable—the wear of starvation and the thick cords of scar tissue barely scraping the surface of the damage left behind beneath. Raised through trauma, she had little else to cling to but the hope of one day escaping with her brother. The vestiges of this hope the driving factor for all of her movements. She’s strong, even if she doesn’t know it, and she persevered throughout.
I thought this book tackled sexuality in a really open way, especially for the time period and how easily it’s accepted. The botanist does not trust men and therefore they are banned from the grounds and from seeing her daughters. So when it is mentioned that some of the female staff may find comfort with each other it’s just kind of like… “well yeah, duh.” And with that being said, this book is fairly open with its somewhat desperate, explorative, and yearning horniness. The budding desires between Cordi and Briar weave a tensely plotted layer to the novel surrounding how far Cordi is willing to bend for what she wants and what she needs. And which, need or want, is finding her brother anymore?
A twisting and turning climax made this an immediate 5/5 for me. I had a tickling in my mind that one of the things was going to happen, but overall, this one kept me guessing until the very end. I particularly loved the juxtaposition between Cordi’s whiplashed nature and Prim and Briar’s suffocating, tyrannical nurturing. That both harshness and softness can be imprisoning. Abuse and love can come with shackles. Just wow.
Huge thanks to Gallery Books for the physical arc! What a gorgeous cover.
Beautiful. Eloquent. And masterfully written. A tale weaved so sweetly that by the time you realize its vines are poisonous, it’ll be far too late.
Cordelia Beecher—Cordi, is on the hunt for her missing brother. They grew up together in an orphanage, and even though he was turned out the moment he hit adulthood, he continued to write her, swearing to come back for her. But when the letters stop, she knows something must have happened. He wouldn’t just stop answering right—wouldn’t change his mind? No, of course not, and Cordi is steadfast in that belief. As is her determination in finding him. This quest for answers delivers her to the doorstep of Edenfield estate. The home of a local botanist, and if the rumors are anything to go by, local witch. Will the estate hold the answers she’s after, or will it take even more from her?
I have to say, the author’s release with Shortwave Media, Cicada, which I happened to enjoy quite a lot, was so drastically different from this. This novel is gothic, and grandiose, and has such a direct voice to it. It’s impressively different in tone. It reads like a different writer, and that’s immensely challenging to achieve. It felt like stumbling upon an entirely new author.
After the opening of the novel, this does a really great job of creating atmosphere in a single location. Edenfield is both romantically huge, explorable and exciting with its locked wings and lush gardens, as well as dark, dusty, and filled with possible dangers in unexpected places. While Cordi functions as the help, she is also doing her best to search for answers—both while alone as well as gaining trust and asking pointed questions. The botanist’s daughters, Prim and Briar, add mystery and intrigue, allowing the author to sprinkle in desire, hope, and deception, while also offering hints at the truth through the way they interact with Cordi.
Cordi functions as an intriguing and multilayered lead. The charity they grew up in featured abuses unimaginable—the wear of starvation and the thick cords of scar tissue barely scraping the surface of the damage left behind beneath. Raised through trauma, she had little else to cling to but the hope of one day escaping with her brother. The vestiges of this hope the driving factor for all of her movements. She’s strong, even if she doesn’t know it, and she persevered throughout.
I thought this book tackled sexuality in a really open way, especially for the time period and how easily it’s accepted. The botanist does not trust men and therefore they are banned from the grounds and from seeing her daughters. So when it is mentioned that some of the female staff may find comfort with each other it’s just kind of like… “well yeah, duh.” And with that being said, this book is fairly open with its somewhat desperate, explorative, and yearning horniness. The budding desires between Cordi and Briar weave a tensely plotted layer to the novel surrounding how far Cordi is willing to bend for what she wants and what she needs. And which, need or want, is finding her brother anymore?
A twisting and turning climax made this an immediate 5/5 for me. I had a tickling in my mind that one of the things was going to happen, but overall, this one kept me guessing until the very end. I particularly loved the juxtaposition between Cordi’s whiplashed nature and Prim and Briar’s suffocating, tyrannical nurturing. That both harshness and softness can be imprisoning. Abuse and love can come with shackles. Just wow.
