Captain's Log, Star date Z

Occasionally a title alone will make me buy that particular book without having heard or read anything about it. Night of the Living Trekkies is one of those books. I'm not much of a Star Trek fan, but I have hit the conventions from time to time, and the idea of zombies set loose on the geekdom was too good to pass up. Just like the BBC series Dead Set, in which the zombie apocalypse hits and the walking dead invade the set of a Big Brother-type reality show, I loved the idea. They (the book and the TV series) could be stinkers, but I didn't care. The fact that it was zombies was a big plus. As I mentioned in a previous review, I was never much of a zombie fan, but that is rapidly changing.

Night of the Living Trekkies opens with some cute dialogue:

"Space, the final frontier. . ."
"Shut up."
"These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. . ."
"I said, shut up."
"Its five-year mission: to explore strange worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations. . ."
"You're pissing me off."

This had me laughing, and I knew I was hooked.

The premise of Trekkies is simple: A secret research facility located beneath Johnson Spaceflight Center in Houston, Texas, has been sabotaged. The subjects of the center have intentionally been set free, and not even a total nuking of the facility is enough to contain the outbreak. The zombies are loose and manage to find their way to the Botany Bay Hotel, where GulfCon is about to get underway.

The hero of our story is 23-year old Jim Pike, a bellhop at the hotel, and a "retired" US Army Officer. Jim has a sixth sense when it comes to enemy action, something that contributed to his early retirement from the military. Similar to Spiderman, he gets these sensations when trouble is near, a gift that repeatedly save his Unit. But when he wasn't there to save them and most of his unit was lost, the sense of responsibility became too much, and he wanted out. Now, at the Botany Bay, he has exactly what he wants -- a job with zero responsibility for others, which is why he can't understand why his "Spider sense" is tingling. He is slow to wake up to the danger, though, even when one guest complains about the poor TV reception, he discovers that the phones are out, and there's no cell phone signal. He only really begins to question when people who are supposed to be on duty go missing.

As the zombie population rapidly grows, Jim must once again shoulder the responsibility of leadership as he tries to lead a handful of survivors, which include his sister, a red-shirted (think Star Trek Engineering crew) young man named Willy Makit (Will he make it, get it? HAHA), Leia (and yes, she is dressed as slave girl Leia from Empire Strikes Back), and an overweight man who goes by the nickname Horta, to name a few, to safety. Who lives, who dies, and who joins the ranks of the walking dead? You'll have to pick up the book to find out.

Night of the Ling Trekkies is not a great book, not by any means, but it is a fun book. It is well written and the characters, while typical stock horror genre staples, are likable. There are enough nods to Star Trek, Star Wars, and Romero's zombie movies to keep the fan boys happy. And no, you don't have to be a fan boy or convention geek to enjoy the inside jokes. If you are in the mood for some light, campy, mindless fun for the weekend to relieve the stress and tension of the work week, then this book can't be recommended enough.

SLIPPERY AS AN EEL

For those of you who have read my past reviews, you'll know that as a kid I had a thing for movies that dealt with giant critters—Night of the Lepus, THEM!, The Deadly Mantis, etc. For those of you who are new to this blog, well, now you know.

Stuart Neild's Giant Killer Eels is reminiscent of these old B movies that I loved so much. The setting is The Lake Districts of England, an area surrounded by mysterious disappearances and the home home of Old Slippery, a legendary giant eel. Like other mythic creatures, Nessie, Big Foot, and The Abominable Snowman, Old Slippery is elusive; however, unlike those who have claimed to see Nessie et al. and lived to tell about it, those who have seen Old Slippery never lived long enough to boast of the sighting.

Lured by the mystery of being the first to discover and photograph the giant eel, John and Mark, a couple of kids who feel they can succeed were seasoned divers have failed, have made "arrangements" to stay at the other's house, but instead of being true to their word, they sneak off to The Lake District in search of Old Slippery, and their parents are none the wiser. While investigating one of the rumored sighting areas, they encounter Yanick, a "crazy" eel enthusiast who claims to know all about Old Slippery and who also claims to have seen the giant eel twice.

Meanwhile, elsewhere withing The District, other people are having close encounters of the Slippery kind, and it isn't long before Mark, John, and crazy Yanick have their own encounter, but they have gotten more than they bargained for. There's not just Old Slippery they need to worry about. As the rains come down, the waters become alive with literally hundreds of. . . you guessed it. . . Giant Killer Eels.

All the trappings of those old B movies are here, from the kids in trouble, the rather eccentric enthusiast, to the military coming in to save the day. There's even a couple of damsels in distress. The characters are likable enough, but the emphasis of Neild's seems to be story progression, not character development. He doesn't disappoint with story, and pretty soon you find yourself forgetting about the unanswered questions that arise about the characters.

As much as I enjoyed the story, I did have some issues with the writing. It's not badly written, but I do feel the it would have benefited from having a proofreader or editor going through it before it was put out for public viewing, and that's purely for grammar and text flow. I found commas appearing in places that they shouldn't have been, which disrupted the flow of the sentences in which they appeared, and the wording of some phrases had me stumbling. If I had to give this a rating of between 1 and 5 stars, I would give it a 4, and that's only because of the problems I had with sentence structure and grammar.

Would I recommend this? You betcha. The thrill I got reliving the days of my childhood spent in front of the television while giant ants lay waste to a town far outweigh the minor technical issues I had with the story.

No One Knows What Goes On Behind Closed Doors

I'm always on the lookout for the next BIG SCARE, more so since the market has been flooded with defanged vampires and domesticated werewolves that have even less bite than my mother's toothless pet poodle. So when I saw Adam Nevill's Apartment 16, I snatched it up with the hopes of getting drawn into a creepy haunted house-type story. I didn't get ghosts. What I got was far worse -- in a good way.

Set in the heart of London, Barrington House is a grand old apartment building with a sinister secret. When Apryl's great aunt passes away, all of her worldly possessions, including her apartment in Barrington House, are left to Apryl and her mother. It is Apryl's responsibility to come to England and settle her aunt's affairs, sell off the belongings and the apartment, and then return home. When Apryl arrives, she is quite taken with the affluence of the building and quite fancies herself living there. She soon finds, however, that the beautifully maintained lobby is only a facade. The apartments within Barrington house have certainly seen better days if her great aunt Lillian's place is representative of the other apartments. It's obvious to Apryl that everything she has heard since arriving at Barrington House is true — Great Aunt Lillian was not right in the head. It is obvious that the old woman was a hoarder, and she had an aversion to mirrors and pictures, as the walls are bare. There is evidence that mirrors and pictures had once adorned the walls as noted by the discolorations on the walls, but they have been taken down and put into storage. When Apryl discovers a series of journals written by her great aunt, it depicts Lillian's descent into madness, but there's more to it. Much more. And everything she learns leads her to Apartment 16.

Meanwhile, Seth, a porter who works at Barrington House is being haunted by a young boy who has seduced him into entering Apartment 16, an apartment that has stood empty for over 50 years, an apartment that the other residents of the building are convinced is haunted by its former resident, Felix Hessen, an artist who dabbled with the occult. What he finds within warps his mind and soul.

After reading the journals, Apryl is determined to find out exactly what happened to her great aunt, even if it means putting herself in harm's way. Will Apryl be able to discover Barrington House's secret and what happened within Apartment 16, or will she become just another victim?

Adam Neville weaves a tightly woven tale of mystery and the occult that is guaranteed to chill you. All the trappings of a typical haunted house tale are here, but Nevill warps it and takes it one step further, twisting it into something you don't expect. While I found some of it predictable, there was enough of a new twist to keep me reading. He has created characters that are believable in your typical horror story way in that you know the heroine isn't going to act in her best interest, but you fear for her anyway. Seth is a character you can sympathize with and hope that he can be redeemed before it's too late. Even the characters that you dislike on first meeting, the residents of Barrington House, become sympathetic as the story unfolds and you learn the horror they have lived with for the past 50 years.

As much as I liked Apartment 16, I did have two issues with the book. My first issue was with the pacing of the novel. The first half moved with excruciating slowness, but there were just enough questions raised to keep me moving forward. It's like that long climb on a roller coaster. Once you pass the halfway point, it's down hill at warp speed to a satisfying conclusion that made the first half well worth the journey.

My second issue was with Seth, as you never really know if an incident he keeps reliving in an event that actually happened to him when he was a child or if it is a memory planted by the powers of Barrington House. You get the impression it is an incident that he actually experienced, and if that is the case, he was destined for Barrington House from the time he was a child. It leaves you questioning long after you've put the book down.

If you are a patient reader, I would highly recommend Adam Nevill's Apartment 16. It's a creepy tale that will have you looking over your shoulder and jumping when you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye.

National Novel Writing Month

Well, as some of you may be aware, November is National Novel Writing Month. Fifty thousand words in thirty days. Sounds daunting, but it can be done. Anyway, I thought I would post an excerpt of the project I started this month in honor of NaNoWriMo. If I get the firs draft done in the 30 days, so be it. If not, I'll have gotten a chunk of it out of the way. Here it is, a project that is tentatively titled Devil's Bluff. Let me know what you think.

-----

The rising and falling wail of a banshee broke through the depths of Billy’s sleep and he awoke with a start. It was a running joke with dad that while Billy could sleep through the alarm clock on the night stand right next to his head, the siren from the firehouse could wake him from the sleep of the dead. Because of that, his father often said he would grow up to be an ambulance chasing lawyer. The television was still on. The Lucy marathon had ended while he slept, and an infomercial for some exercise equipment was running. He glanced at his watch. Four am. The sun wasn’t even up. Still dressed in the clothes he wore yesterday, he was on his feet and moving for the door before the second rising and falling wail sounded.

Outside, he grabbed his bike and started down the steps. The car would be faster, but without knowing where the emergency was, the bike was easier. He knew from past experience that other morbid curiosity seekers would be there, most of them with their cars, and he didn’t want to contribute further to the congestion. In the distance, the firehouse siren continued to wail. It was a shame really, but not surprising. The ambulance and firefighters were all volunteers. Billy often thought if the locals had had any sense, they would have a crew on call in the event of overnight emergencies. They didn’t though, which said something about the people in town. It also meant that whoever was in need of emergency care, be it the ambulance crew or the firefighters would have to wait until the response team was fully awake and dressed. That ten or so minutes could mean all the difference between life and death, but that didn’t seem to matter to those answering the calls.

Clouds had gathered during the night, blocking out the light of the full moon, which only deepened the darkness that laid claim to this end of town. Because DeVille House and the house his parents had purchased several years back were the only two properties this far out, the Town Council couldn’t justify the expense of extending the street lights to an area that they considered barely populated. The fact that the DeVille’s were not generally liked by the locals made the decision that much easier. He briefly reconsidered taking the car, though, after see just how dark it was. Even if the moon’s rays weren’t hindered but the cloud cover, once he got on his way, there was a large stretch of road that was covered by a canopy of trees. Even in the bright light of day, the road was in perpetual shadow. “Ah, screw it,” he mumbled to himself. He already had the bike off the porch, so what the hell.

Because of the darkness, Billy didn’t ride as fast he would have during the daylight hours. The road was a relatively straight run into town, with only a few snaking curves. As he rounded one of the bends in the road, he saw up ahead the blinking red taillights of a car pulled over on the side of the road. The headlights were on, backlighting the forms of two people huddled by the car. They looked young, and more than likely, being that they were in this neck of the woods, they were in their late teens out this way to fool around. Billy pulled his bike up behind the car and got off. They seemed oblivious to his presence, just staring out into the road as if expecting something to come out of the darkness on the other side. He laid his bike down on the grass on the side of the road and moved around the rear of the car. “Do you guys need any help?”

The coupled started at the sound of his voice. “N-no,” a female voice said, immediately followed by a male voice saying, “We’ve already called the sheriff’s office. Somebody should be here soon.”

Billy approached the couple. “What happened?”

The siren had finally fallen silent. If they had enough for a crew, they’d be here in ten or fifteen minutes.

The girl spoke, but it wasn’t in response to Billy’s question. “If my father finds out I’ve been out this way, he’s going to kill me.”

“He won’t find out,” the young man reassured her.

“But he’s one of the paramedics,” the girl whined.

Billy waited for their little drama to play out. While he waited, he looked around, but he couldn’t see more than a foot or so in front of him, even with the illumination from the headlights.

“If you’re that afraid he’s going to show, why don’t you wait in the car.”

Without waiting to be told again, the girl scurried to open the rear door of the car and climbed in, stretching out across the seat. She obviously wasn’t going to take any chance of being seen from the road by anybody. In the brief flash of light as the car door was opened, Billy got a glimpse of the couple. The guy was around eighteen years old, the girl a year or two younger. He had seen them both around town, but didn’t know them.

Once the car door was closed, the guy moved towards the front of the car, indicating that Billy should follow. In the glow from the headlights, Billy had a clearer view of the guy. He obviously thought he was some bad ass in his cuffed jeans, MC boots and leather jacket: a James Dean wannabe. Somebody should tell him that look hasn’t been cool since Happy Days went off the air. The guy was very nonchalant in his movement, seeming not to have a care in the world as he perched himself on the hood of the car. Whatever had happened, it couldn’t have been that serious.

“So what happened,” Billy asked again, coming stepping into the glow of the headlights.

The guy was in no rush to answer the question; he took a pack of cigarettes from the breast pocket of this t-shirt and lipped one before offering the pack to Billy. Billy wasn’t a smoker, not in the sense that he went out and bought his own packs, but he had bummed a smoke from his friends from time to time, accepted the offered cigarette and the light. The guy leaned back on the car, supporting himself with one arm while taking a deep drag. He blew the smoke out slowly, and there was something about his actions that had Billy wondering if maybe the guy wasn’t high.

“You live around here,” the guy asked.

"Yeah. Just up the road.”

“You’re Anders?”

“Yep.”

The guy looked around as if he didn’t want to be overheard. “I’ve seen your mom in town. She’s hot.”

Billy took a drag on the cigarette and choked on the smoke. Now he knew the guy was on something. That’s not something you say to a complete stranger. Recovering from his cough spasm, Billy asked, “And you are?”

“Doug. The bitch in the back seat is Amy.”

Ignoring the last, Billy asked for the third time, “So what happened?”

“Don’t know. Amy and me, we came out here to fuck around.”

Tell me something I don’t know, Billy said to himself.

“We was on our way home and there was this body on the side of the road.”

“What? Who is it?” Billy’s gazed shifted to the other side of the road, straining against the darkness to see where this body was.

“Don’t know. Looks like some old broad.”

“Is she okay?”

“Lousy lay. She just lays there, but the bitch knows how to polish a knob, though.”

Definitely high, Billy thought. He should have thought to bring a flashlight with him. He wasn’t that far from the house that couldn’t head back and get one, but the ambulance crew would more than likely be here and gone by the time he got back. Instead, he started across the road.

“Hey, Anders,” Doug called after him in a loud whisper, “you want her to do you? She will if I tell her to.”

“That’s okay.” He moved deeper into the darkness, needing to put some distance between himself and that asshole. He didn’t know Doug, but from what he learned during their brief interaction was enough to know that they wouldn’t be best buds anytime soon. It was obvious they weren’t a couple, as least Doug didn’t see it that way, and he wondered if Amy thought differently.

“Don’t know what you’re missing, man.”

Moving through the darkness, totally blind to what lay ahead of him, he tried to block out Doug’s badgering. Gradually his eyes adjusted to the lack of light and he could make out a vaguely human shape on the ground a few yards away. He quickened his pace, and when he stood before it, he dropped it a crouch. Not knowing how badly hurt the person was, he didn’t want to touch the person, but he did want whoever it was to know that somebody was there. “Are you okay?” When he didn’t get a response, he dropped all the way to his knees. The gravel bit through his jeans but he ignored the discomfort. “Help is on the way.” And it was. He could hear the ambulance now, the mournful wail growing louder as it approached. He thought he heard the person mumble something, but he couldn’t be certain, not with the asshole running his mouth. “It’s going to be okay.” He tried to be reassuring, comforting, but couldn’t help but feel totally helpless. He wondered what could have happened to this individual when he was hit with an ugly thought.

He lifted his head and stared across the road at Doug. The guy was definitely on something. Was it possible he hadn’t been paying attention to the road, maybe getting head while he drove, and ran the person down? Is that why Amy was so afraid of her father finding her here? Well, he knew if he had a daughter and had caught her with the likes of someone like Doug, he wouldn’t be at all happy with her. Somebody like Doug would be one to boast of his conquests, and probably wouldn’t be above exaggerating the details. Even if Amy hadn’t put out, Doug’s version of the story would have her sounding like a slut. The girl’s reputation would be ruined. With Amy in hiding, Doug was free to spin whatever tale he wanted as to why he was out this way. Billy shuddered at the idea of the creep getting away with running somebody down. If that was what had happened. It was also entirely possible that the guy was telling the truth. If Doug’s version of what had happened was indeed true, what was this person doing out in the middle of nowhere at this time of night. Considering what went on out this way, Billy could only arrive at one conclusion: this person was up to no good.

He gave an involuntary shiver now that that thought was firmly planted in his head. He was out here all by himself now that his family had gone home. Anything could happen to him and nobody would know. Well, his mother the worrier would suspect, but dad would talk her down. It would be days before they found out what had happened. One too many scenarios in his head to make a judgment. Innocent until proven guilty. Even at that, he suddenly wished he had never left the house, and he wanted nothing more than to be back inside in front of the television.
A flash of light caught his attention and he looked down the road. The ambulance was minutes away. He could see the flashing bubble lights now, and the steady twin eyes of the headlights drawing near. Turning his attention back to the wounded individual, he said, “Just a few more minutes. They’re almost here. Just hang on a few more minutes.”

A groan escaped the lips of the person lying on the ground. There was no mistaking it. It sounded male, but of that he couldn’t be certain. And then the lights from the ambulance and the sheriff’s car washed over him, revealing the identity of the person before him. He fell back, startled at seeing Old Lady DeVille, the Devil Woman herself, sprawled on the ground.

As much as the woman was despised in town, the ambulance crew wasted no time attending to the old woman. The entire time the paramedics worked on her, DeVille wouldn’t stop mumbling to herself in a voice so low that nobody could understand what she was saying. The paramedics had been determined that the woman was delirious, hallucinating maybe, because she wasn’t responding to requests to repeat herself or to speak up.

While Billy watched them work, he glanced occasionally across the way to where the sheriff was questioning Doug. They were too far away for him to hear what they were saying, but Billy could imagine. Amy was still hiding in the backseat, and Billy wondered if, when the sheriff came over to talk to him, he would give her up. Maybe the truth would come out if she was questioned by the law. Maybe Doug was telling the truth, but they wouldn’t know for sure until his story was corroborated. The sheriff would have to get her alone, though. There was no way she would tell her version of what happened as long as there was a potential threat from the man she was screwing.

By the time the old woman was stabilized and loaded into the ambulance, the sheriff was meandering over to Billy. When the man was close enough where he wouldn’t have to shout to be heard, he said, “Well, Bill. . . Or is it William?”

Flustered, Billy, said, “It’s Billy, sir.” He had never met the sheriff and was at a loss at how the man knew his name. He guessed if he was responsible for the safety of the town, he would make himself familiar with all the locals—and the outsiders. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that Doug might have mentioned him by name.

“Well, Billy. What brings you out this early in the morning?”

“I heard the alarm go off, sir.”

“You can relax, Billy.”

“Sir?”

“You can drop the ‘sir’.”

“Yes, sir.” Billy felt himself blush. Even though he hadn’t done anything wrong, he still felt nervous talking to the sheriff.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I’m not sure myself. The alarm woke me up. I was on my way to see what it was all about when I saw Doug parked by the side of the road.”

A frown creased the man’s face. “So you know Doug.”

“No, sir. I’ve seen him around town, but only just met him tonight.”

The sheriff picked up on something in Billy’s voice. “You don’t like him?”

“I don’t really know him, but from the few minutes we spent together, no, not at all, sir.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“That he was on his way home and saw her in the road. He told me he called your office and was waiting ‘til you arrived.”

“Hmmmm,” the sheriff said, mostly to himself. “That doesn’t sound like him at all.” Then to Billy, “Was he alone?”

The question caught Billy off guard. “Sir?”

“Was he by himself?”

Billy hesitated, not wanting to get on the wrong side of Doug. As he told the sheriff, he didn’t know the guy, but he had no doubt the guy could make his life a living hell.

“It’s rare for people to come out this way by themselves. You do know this area of town is the Bluff’s version of Lover’s Lane.”

Licking his lips nervously, Billy said. “I’ve heard that, sir, but never saw anything to make me believe it was true.”

“Are you covering for somebody, Billy?”

Billy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to decide if he should say anything about Amy.

“If it will make things easier, we know he was with a girl. Dispatch said a girl called this in, but that she refused to give her name.”

Heaving an inward sigh of relief over the fact that Doug had screwed himself over and that he wouldn’t technically be squealing if he said anything, Billy said, “There was a girl.”

“Were they in separate cars?”

With a shake of the head, Billy said, “No.” He wasn’t going to say anything else unless the sheriff asked, and he knew the man would ask.

“Where did she go? Did she head into town on foot.”

“No, sir. She was hiding in the back seat.”

“Would you happen to know who she was and why she was hiding?”

“She was afraid of her father finding out that she was out here.”

“Do you know who she was?”

“I’ve seen her around town, but don’t know who she is.”

The sheriff accepted this and let it go. “Well, that’s about it for now. When will you and your family be heading out?”

“My parents already left, sir. I’m here by myself now.”

The sheriff raised his eyebrows.

“Classes start in two weeks. Dad said staying here would be cheaper than staying on campus.”

“I wouldn’t know about that. Well, I’ll let you get along home. If I have any other questions or think of something else, I’ll be in touch.”

“Good night, sir.” Billy went across the road to retrieve his bike, turned around, and pedaled back to the house.

Back inside, he turned off the television and went up the stairs to his bedroom, where he stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed. Sleep was slow in coming. His mind was working overtime, and for some reason he couldn’t fathom, his thoughts kept returning to the DeVille woman lying by the side of the road. Every time he saw her in his mind, he was seized by chills. When he was younger, his grandmother always said somebody was walking over her grave whenever she got the shivers, and why that thought would to him at this moment bothered him more than he could say. For the second time within twenty-four hours, Billy Anders wondered if staying in this house by himself wasn’t such a great idea afterall.

He tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn’t come. He kept seeing her face, eyes closed, lips moving silently, as if she was uttering a prayer. He tried reading, but found he couldn’t concentrate on the words. Why old lady DeVille being hit by a car preyed on his mind the way it was he couldn’t say, but he didn’t have a good feeling about it.

Eventually, he got out of bed and returned to the living room. He turned the TV on again, fluffed the pillows under his head, covered himself with the blankets, and tried to lose himself in a movie. He stared at the screen without really seeing the action unfolding there. His thoughts had moved on, leaving the old lady on the side of the road and turned towards the house on the bluff, where is sat like a bird of prey overlooking the town. The image of the darkened house looming over the land below scared the shit out of him worse than any horror movie he had ever seen. He saw himself walking up the road towards the house. It was like he was dreaming while he was awake, but it was more like a waking nightmare since he couldn’t shake the images. He approached the house. As he walked up to the door, it swung open on its own, revealing nothing but a threatening darkness beyond. Something was waiting for him. Something that terrified him. That knowledge alone should have had him running the other way, but he took a step forward and entered the house. As the door closed behind him, sleep finally claimed him. If he dreamed, he didn’t remember it.

Or he wasn’t being allowed to remember.

He didn’t know which, and wasn’t sure he wanted to.

The Night Before Christmas

Here's the beginnings of a Christmas story I'm working on. It is as yet untitled.

***

Dozens of little bodies lay broken on the floor.

She wasn’t aware of what she had done as her attention was riveted to the television screen, where only moments before the Yule Log had been burning brightly and the sound of Bing Crosby dreaming of a white Christmas drifted from the speakers. Never in all her years, of which there were many, had the Yule Log broadcast been interrupted by a newscaster claiming to have breaking news. Until now, that is.

“We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you this Special Report.” The Network logo that had appeared on the screen was replaced by the view of a newsroom and a rather handsome anchorman. “Christmas Eve,” he said, obviously reading from a teleprompter, “and there’s violence in the streets. Reports are pouring in from all across the country that unprovoked acts of violence have been breaking out, leaving behind a bloody trail of mass murder.” Behind his blond head, a video screen came to life showing a real-time image of Times Square. It was pure chaos. Bodies and paper and plastic shopping bags littered the streets. Panic-stricken last-minute shoppers ran along the Avenue of the Americas, dodging slower-moving people who seemed to be disoriented and turning up side streets in an attempt to get away from. . .

It wasn’t exactly clear what they were running from at first, but then she saw a woman who refused to give up the bags she had fought the masses for take a tumble, tripped up by her day’s purchases. A shambling figure, obviously male, was on her in a heartbeat. At first, she thought the man was attempting to rape the woman he’d fallen on, but when he raised his head she could see the bloody wound at the woman’s neck. Even from the distance, she could see the spray of blood as it coated the sidewalk. The news anchor continued.

“This scene, broadcast live from Times Square in New York City, is being repeated all across the country. There is no known cause for this sudden outbreak of violence. The extent of the violence is so wide spread that the President has declared a state of emergency and has called out the National Guard. People are being advised to stay indoors. Do not, under any circumstance, venture out doors. I repeat, under no circumstance should you go outside. We will keep you apprised of the situation as developments occur. We now return you to our regularly scheduled program.”

The next instant, the Yule Log was burning merrily away again, a stark contrast to the mayhem and murder she had just witnessed, and for just one moment, she was too stunned to do anything but just stand there. Her complexion, normally joyfully ruddy, was pale. The shock of seeing a woman murdered on live television had drained the color from her rosy cheeks. Her hands started to tremble. She reached out for the counter to steady herself, trying to clear her head. Papa needed to know about this. It was too dangerous for him to venture out tonight. Wiping her hands on her apron, she hurried from the kitchen, crushing the broken bodies of the gingerbread men underfoot as she went.

Outside, the snow was starting to fall. It was a light fall, barely more than a flurry, with large flakes swirling gently around. Such was her hurry to inform Papa of the news, she forgot her shawl. Not that she needed it. She, like all of the others that lived and worked here, was immune to the freezing temperatures. The snow had been trampled by hundreds of tiny footprints, and here and there she could see evidence that the sleigh team had passed by the house. In the distance, through the veil of snow, she could see The Factory. The lights were on and smoke was billowing from the numerous chimneys. Even this close to departure time, it was still all a-bustle with activity. Whatever they didn’t complete in time for this year could always be counted towards next year.

She scurried across the snow, driven by the fear of what she had witnessed. Papa had to know what was going on. She reached the door and pushed it open without a moment’s hesitation. The sounds of Alvin and the Chipmunks singing All I Want for Christmas greeted her as she stepped inside, and she winced at the sound. Those little rodents always affected her like nails on a blackboard, but the elves worked best to any song by them, and on Christmas Eve, that particular song played all day long, and to add insult to injury, the elves always felt compelled to sing along. That was enough to drive anybody to commit suicide, but it wouldn’t do her any good. Her blessing – or curse – once she married Papa and moved to this magical land was immortality. If she could die, she knew what her Hell would be. She only had to stay in The Factory for an hour on Christmas Eve to have a small taste of it.
She started to climb the stairs, hoping against hope that Papa hadn’t started hitting the bottle yet because once Papa started drinking there was no talking him out of anything. If the children only knew the real reason for those rosy cheeks and that cherry-like nose, they’d be crestfallen.

There was still hours to go before his scheduled departure, but she kept her back to the wall as she made her way up the stairs to allow room for the elves as they made their way down the steps with sacks of toys to load into the sleigh. While not as big as Papa, her bulk was ample enough that if she wasn’t courteous, the elves would have had to wait until she reached the top. She could have taken the elevator, but that would mean having to make her way across the floor, and this close to departure time, it was a madhouse. Making her way through a minefield would have been less hazardous than trying to get through the over-industrious elves.

At the top of the stairs, she pushed her way through the wave of diminutive bodies flowing towards her and felt like a salmon swimming upstream. Her destination was the source of the swarming elves, an open set of double doors that led onto a gallery that overlooked the work floor. Once through the doors, she looked around, immediately locating her husband. He stood at the railing, supervising the activities below. He seemed oblivious to the events going on behind him, but he, like mothers, seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. Nothing slipped by him. Dressed in a wife-beater t-shirt, his red pants with white ermine trim, and black boots, he never failed to take her breath away. He was as handsome today as the day she married him, and just for one moment she completely forgot the urgency that drove her from the house. His moustache, shoulder-length hair, and beard that fell to mid chest were as white as the snow that covered the northern landscape. The love she felt for him rekindled the fear and she hurried forward.

He turned at her approach, a “Ho, ho, ho,” ready to greet her, but the expression on her face caused the laughter to dry up before it left his mouth. He crossed the floor and met her half way. “What is it, Mama?”

“You have to cancel Christmas, Papa. It’s too dangerous.”

This time the laughter did come out, deep belly laughs that really did make his belly shake like a bowl full of jelly. “Ho, ho, ho! Cancel Christmas? Not a chance.”

Of Angels and Demons

When I found out Rob Thurman had a new series coming out, I grabbed it the minute I saw it. I love her Cal Leandros series and I was curious to see what else she would come up with. The book was published last year, but with any series, I always hold off until the second book is in hand before starting to read. Thus the reason for a delayed review. I also have to admit that, after seeing some of the reviews that were coming out, I was a bit hesitant to give Trick of the Light a chance.

Trick of the Light is set in the same universe as the Cal Leandros series, and a couple of the characters from the Leandros series, while not actually appearing, are mentioned. I had heard through the grapevine that this was the case, and that added another reason to hold off reading until I was totally caught up with the adventures of the Leandros brothers. I didn't want there to be any spoilers. There weren't, so if you are in the process of playing catch up with the Leandros books, you can sneak this in. It won't spoil anything.

The central character of Trick of the Light is Trixa Iktomi, a bar owner, a seller of information, and an occasional demon hunter. Sharing the responsibilities in the running of the bar is Leo, and joining her in her demon hunting are Zeke Hawkins and Griffin Reese, "brothers" in arms. As members of Eden House, a nationwide network of telepaths and empaths working for Heaven and supervised by Angels, Griffin and Zeke make it their mission to exterminate demons, so it's more like Trixa joins them in the demon hunts. For the boys, it's a job; for Trixa, it's personal. She has made it her life's mission to hunt down and destroy the demon who killed her brother.

It is during one of these hunts that Trixa learns of The Light, an ancient artifact that is being sough by both Heaven and Hell, as whoever possesses it will be invulnerable to attacks. While the minions of Above and Below are both looking for it, Trixa plans on being the one to find it, and once it is in her possession, she plans on using it as a bargaining chip to have her brother's murderer turned over to her. Whoever can deliver the demon can have The Light. With the race for The Light now on, both sides put it all on the line in order to be the one to whom Trixa turns over the artifact. The demons attempt to seduce her (there's no such thing as an ugly demon -- not in human form anyway), and the angels show their true colors, proving that they are just as vicious as the demons and are not above killing to get their holier-than-thou mitts on The Light. Playing both sides, will Trixa be able to achieve her goal before being found out?

While I enjoyed Trick of the Light, I was disappointed to find it was not of the same caliber as the Cal Leandros series. Trixa, the central character, for me was the weakest; Griffin and Zeke came across as the stronger characters, and they were the ones who carried the story along, which was interesting as the story is told in the first person from Trixa's point of view.

I also found the first half of the book was not as developed as the second half. There was quite a bit of repetition littered throughout the first half of the story. How many times do we have to be told that Trixa's favorite color is red, or that it was five years ago that Griffin and Zeke first showed up in her bar, running from social services because of something Zeke did. It felt like Thurman hadn't fleshed out Trixa completely in her mind before sitting down to write. The other possibility is that Thurman's weakness in her writing is female characters. Her male characters come across as stronger and more interesting, even the minor ones.

The story itself is interesting and contains a number of twists, some surprising, some not so. I had figured out some of them a quarter of the way through, and the finale kicks some major ass.

Despite what I consider to be obvious flaws, I enjoyed Trick of the Light and I will be reading the next installment, the just-released The Grimrose Path. I'm curious to see where the series is headed, and if there is going to be a Cal Leandros/Trickster crossover. I think it would be amazing to have Cal and Nik teamed up with Zeke and Griff. The mayhem that would ensue would be awesome!

Would I recommend Trick of the Light? Yes, but not if you are reading Rob Thurman for the first time. Consider picking up Nightlife, Book 1 of the Cal Leandros series, first to get a feel for what Thurman is capable of.

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