“I need you to find the White City Vampire…” It was supposed to be a quick job. All Helen Brandt had to do was examine the crime scene, maybe take some photos (after performing an augury and casting a spell to make the blood traces visible during the moon’s Chaldean hour. You know, the usual).
“So one of them is lying.” “Just one? To quote a great detective, ‘Everyone has a secret, and everyone lies.” Traveling incognito isn’t easy when you’re a famous inventor (also victim of an infamous accident), and your brand-new husband is a famous detective (retired). It’s taken a lot of money and pull, but Tesla and
I’m actually ahead of the game this year as far as the Hugo-nominated novelettes. By which I mean I’ve read one of them already (it’s the Catherynne Valente one, which I’m sure is no surprise). For the first three Best Novelette nominees, we have stories which all include the theme of needing to be seen,
My name’s Andrea Cort. I hate heights, I hate being helpless, and I hate creatures bigger than I am. It was almost exactly twenty years ago that I picked up a copy of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction and read “The Tangled Strings of the Marionettes”. The story – set on the planet
Just as I was toying with posting a review of several random short stories (in hopes of getting one that might be nominated for a Hugo Award), the Chengdu Worldcon committee today posted the full list of finalists. I didn’t manage to guess more than one nominated work of short fiction (Catherynne Valente’s excellent novelette),
I’m a little late getting to this book, but I think I can be forgiven seeing as how this installment of Hugh Howey’s dystopian series – set in the desert wastes of what used to be Colorado – came out more than eight years after I reviewed the first one. (To be fair, Howey’s been
It’s springtime, politics are still an absolute dumpster fire, and several world leaders are using the version of diplomacy best summed up as “Oh Yeah? Come Over HERE And Say That.” Time for some more escapism via a thirty-year-old sci-fi fantasy epic. The Orpheus Machine is the final book in Ray Aldridge’s Emancipator trilogy. And
But ever since New York became the newest and loudest member of an international resistance against the encroachment of hostile quantum possibility collapse, we been dealing with more than the usual day-to-day fuckshit. New York’s battle against the Enemy trying to kill living cities ended in an uncomfortable stalemate in N.K. Jemisin’s The City We
Terry Moore continues the story of former Parker Girl Katina Choovanski (Katchoo, if you know what’s good for you) with a brand new series that has quite a bit of intrigue and more than the usual amount of murder. The book (collecting issues 1-5 from the series) pulled me in from the first page, with