Orbit Books

THE OLEANDER SWORD by Tasha Suri

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The Oleander Sword
(Burning Kingdoms Book 2)
By Tasha Suri
Orbit Books — 16th August 2022
ISBN: 9780316538565 — Paperback — 512 pp.

If you haven’t yet read The Jasmine Throne, the first book in Tasha Suri’s Burning Kingdoms series, go away. Read it. One of the best epic fantasies I’ve recently read, it succeeds with powerful themes, strong characters, and a propulsive plot.

If you have read the first novel in the series and enjoyed it, you will probably love this sequel just as much, if not more. Now, readers might get a bit angry at Suri and what she does with our emotions. But it’s a love/hate kinda thing that makes readers thirst for the next installment, holding onto hope.

If you read The Jasmine Throne, but didn’t really like it much… well… you’re a mystery to me. But, to be fair, no book is for everyone. The characters and themes of The Oleander Sword resemble the first novel, most clearly feminist themes of being seen and heard (respected) and having a freedom from control by a patriarchal society. I’m glad this didn’t change, and I enjoy how Suri takes these themes in new directions from where the plot of the series left off in the first novel’s end.

Malini has now been declared the rightful Empress of Parijatdvipa, but the opposition of her despotic brother Chandra remains, and the supporters of her elder brother Aditya (who has given up a throne as a Priest of the Nameless God) seem to only warily follow a female of the royal line. When the apparent use of Mother’s Fire by Emperor Chandra’s forces begins to cast doubts of the Mother’s blessings on Malini’s position, the Empress must make difficult choices to ensure her victory and Chandra’s defeat.

Meanwhile, Priya and Bhumika serve as co-rulers of Ahiranya, thrice-borne priestesses with the powers of the Yaska. With the fanatical Ashok lost to the waters, the former rebels under his command have now taken on the role of Mask Keepers within the new freedom the Ahiranyi people have achieved. However, the return of the worship-hungry and self-serving Yaska soon darken this vision of hope and freedom for the leaders.

Malini sends for Priya’s help, also seeking a reunion and continuation of their romance. However, the sacrifices that each must make for their own goals and people may make their partnership and love impossible.

The Oleander Sword is an excellent sequel to The Jasmine Throne, and a middle entry to trilogy that reminds me a bit of the feelings that The Empire Strikes Back evokes: dark and bittersweet, yet with some little bit of hope still remaining. Suri expands the world building of the first novel with a deeper dive into the deities of the Burning Kingdoms lands, most notably the Yaksa. But, she also expands details of the world with more political machinations among the representative lands of the Parijatdvipa Empire.

Though, I obviously enjoyed The Jasmine Throne, it didn’t really surprise me much in the plot development. It went exactly as I expected. (I may not have expected all the events to happen already in the first book.) What I loved even more about The Oleander Sword is that things became complicated in ways I didn’t necessarily foresee. The first novel is a bit of an underdog story, of three relatively powerless women defiantly seizing power. The Oleander Sword shows that this was decided not the end of their fight. Their defiance must continue, and worse threats to their freedom and agency than they ever imagined are coming.

Like its predecessor, this is a novel about surviving and sacrifice, but with increasing costs and difficulty, if not regret. Suri does interesting things with this that tie nicely into the building plot and epic fantasy world she’s created here, with its inspirations from Indian history and mythology.

This is a middle chapter that really made me curious and eager to see what happens, how it could possibly conclude, both for the characters and the themes Suri is tackling. I was fortunate to finish the first novel not long before I was able to get a copy of this sequel. Now the pain of the waiting game.

Interview with Alex White (AUGUST KITKO AND THE MECHAS FROM SPACE)

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I had the opportunity to review Alex White’s August Kitko and the Mechas from Space for Fantasy Book Critic back in July when their new novel released from Orbit Books. Orbit and and Alex graciously agreed to an interview, and I’m excited to present their wonderful answers here below. If you haven’t gotten August Kitko and the Mechas from Space yet, you can check out my review at the link above to read more about it (including the official synopsis), and you can also read a FREE preview of the novel’s first chapter at Orbit Books.

photo credit: Renee White

I believe the creative start of your Salvagers series was initially focused on the just the first novel of it, A Big Ship at the Edge of the Universe, as opposed to mapped ideas for the entire trilogy. Did August Kitko and the Mechas from Space start similarly, or were you working out all three movements of the Starmetal Symphony right from the start?

It’s actually a little of both! I don’t plot too deeply, except for the book I’m directly working on. I need to keep ideas in mind and set things up in the first books for later, but the realities of writing always change the plot for me. If I try too hard to plot the whole series, I just end up throwing a bunch of work away because of cascading changes from book one. Instead, the sequels are maybe a paragraph of intent each, whereas the first book has a 40-page synopsis.

I am, however, a plotter. I like to know everything about the book I’m about to write, even if I’m going to change it all when I get there.

How do you think your writing (or the process) has changed over time with experience (if at all)? Do you feel you write now with more confidence, or thrill at diving into new ideas or territory?

It has gotten a lot harder, honestly. The more you know, the more pitfalls you see. Gone are the days where I could crank through 3,000 words in an hour, replaced with agonizing over the tiniest details. One thing has remained, though—I believe that a writer should always be uncomfortable. You need to push yourself to go places you’ve never been, and you must do the work to make it authentic.

I’ve gotten better at story development, though! I have a lot of different creative processes and games I use when I’m planning books, mostly using sticky notes. I find that visualizing data in unique ways (emotional resonance over time, actor swimlanes, etc.) can bring a ton of insight into the plotting process. It also helps me reinforce the themes and make sure I sew up all the holes. My basement walls are so covered up with notes that it looks like I’m hunting a serial killer.

So much of writing is editing. I know you’ve enjoyed fantastic partnerships with your editors, but is there anything you’ve found challenging in that process, or have you found yourself giving more pushback to suggestions of changes over time?

A long time ago, one of my favorite editors confided in my agent that she was worried she was steamrolling me with changes. He replied that I’m easy to work with–if you don’t change the ethos of my book. I don’t personally care what shirt color someone has, or even what their name is half the time. Those aren’t core details. Hell, I’ve rewritten major plotlines on edits.

However, I’ve had editors push back on things like gender identity, claiming the inclusion of nonbinary persons would be “too political,” or that a sexual harasser didn’t deserve condemnation. Those people discovered a new side of our relationship. I’m not a pushover, and I’m not above dragging something out for the right reasons.

At the end of the day, an editor is there to protect you. Their job is to make your book amazing and sellable. If I’m going to buck an edit, I’m going to have agonized over it for days. When that happens, I’m always polite, but it’s my name going on the book. It will conform to my standards of quality.

I actually first discovered your writing with the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine tie-in novel Revenant, and you’ve written two novels set in the Alien franchise. How did those opportunities come about, and if there’s one piece of advice you’ve learned from writing in existing universes, what would it be?

I got into tie-in writing because I was afraid that my debut novel, Every Mountain Made Low, would flop. When an editor is considering hiring you, they look at sales, first. There are plenty of debut authors who never get another shot because they failed a six-figure advance. Tie-in fiction is a great insurance policy against that because of the built-in fanbase.

As far as writing for tie-ins, I have an article in Grimdark Magazine about it, but my main piece of advice is this: Fans have already seen the movie/TV show/game/comic. They’re buying your tie-in because they want more, but you can’t simply deliver what they’ve seen before. The goal is to capture the way they felt the first time they experienced the franchise. I think people miss that part sometimes, and try to write another episode, as opposed to an experience.

Music is obviously a huge creative outlet in your life as well, and you’ve composed music inspired by your fiction. Does it also go the opposite direction, or during times of writing/composing do you find the two interplaying back and forth in any unexpected ways?

Oh, my, yes. I was never able to compose music before I started imagining a story to go with it. On a broader scale, my other interests all impact one another. I learn about writing from user experience and vice versa. I learn about photography from storytelling. One of the biggest lessons I’ve taken from having diverse interests is that the more you know about everything, the more you know about everything. It’s good to get deep knowledge, but nothing compares to being a generalist.

Any master of an art has lessons applicable to mastering other arts. I think it’s important to watch demonstrations of skill and ask, “How can I apply this to my creative body?”

Could there be any August Kitko and the Mechas from Space inspired numbers to come, and what instruments would they involve?

There’s already a theme song, actually! It’s called Burn Down the Stars, and I wrote it for the audiobook. I spent the entire time I was writing the novel to practice just the piano part, then I used Ableton Live to sequence an entire orchestra for backup.

If I had more time, I’d love to do a whole album exploring the interplay of American pop, djent, bhangra and jazz. There is no doubt in my mind that a movie produced from this book would have an absolutely killer soundtrack.

How would you characterize ‘subversive’ writing, and what kinds of power do you hope that your fiction might have in that regard for readers, or in your outlook on things?

People are wired to exclude information that doesn’t sync with their worldview. It’s one of the reasons that debate rarely changes anyone’s minds. Stories, however, are magical because they skate beneath your psychological defenses. They place you in the situation and ask you to empathize with people whose views you might rather dismiss. You get to live the experiences you’d rather not accept.

To me, this means calling into question the basic premises of our society and analyzing the systems for bias and abuse. A great story should suck you in, then make you profoundly uncomfortable with the status quo. And—not to put too fine a point on it—stories without this amount of heart are just useless fluff. No truth equals no stakes and a love of the prevailing authority. Throw it all in the trash.

I realized that one common element to August Kitko and the Mechas from Space and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine – Reventnant may be the theme of consent/control in organismal pairings. There’s the human-mecha ones in August Kitko, and that biological level of symbiosis so central to Jadzia Dax’s identity and story. Is this a theme you have consciously turned to with particular interest throughout all of your work, through different directions?

As a trans person, the depersonalization of one’s form is constantly on my mind. A lot of us are consumed by society, both through fetishistic desire and bigoted derision. We’re expected to perform certain roles to be allowed to comingle with the “normal” people, but our very bodies are liabilities in the public space. Having your own identity while trying to reconcile the unwanted, even alien, standards of civilization can be quite a trip. I’m sure this feeling stretches beyond transness, and a lot of people can identify.

In the broader sense, consent is constantly on my mind because the violence done to characters is usually beyond their control. What’s interesting is how it unfolds in various contexts beyond organisms. It comes into play when discussing the role of sentient androids (though I hate the “robot rights” discourse), but also the grander application of political and economic systems. We’re all in nonconsensual relationships with our workplaces, banks and medical providers, just so we can survive and participate in society.

Staying on that subject of symbiosis in a way… Have you ever had a collaborative writing experience with another author; do you think that coauthoring a novel would work with your style and personality or would you have to run away from that prospect?

It would have to be a special circumstance, conceived as a coworking project from the start. If there are boundaries, I can do it. I’ve participated in writers’ rooms, for example, and have every intention of doing more in Hollywood. That means that I must be a good collaborator.

With novels, I do think it’s harder than scripts. Long form is closer to my heart, and a place I use to express my inner self. I think it would be tough to team up. I don’t even let friends suggest plot points to me. A quick aside, how the hell does anyone decide to plagiarize something? My ego would not be able to handle someone else’s work powering my story.

Is there any chance of you writing something outside of the science fiction/fantasy realms, like the crime genre, historical or contemporary?

Absolutely. I hope to have a long, fruitful career where I get to prove my range and continuously work in new territory. I read a lot outside of speculative fiction, and I’ve always wanted to write a historical crime novel.

What would be your favorite board game and your favorite whiskey? Are board game – whiskey pairings a thing?

Let’s go with Agricola, plus a long-sipping Islay whiskey, like a Laphroaig. I could probably drain a whole bottle in the course of a game (back when I could still process alcohol). Nowadays, I’d probably pair some kind of intoxicant, but I’m not sure I have a specific one in mind…

And finally, to circle things back to August Kitko and the Mechas from Space, what can you say about the upcoming movements of the Starmetal Symphony? In particular, will the next volumes be in a different key, tempo, or style?

The ground game in every volume will be completely different. Every single book, something is going to happen that changes everything—usually at the beginning. I won’t give you the whole picture. Suffice to say, if you thought the first book was strange, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

Thanks again to Alex White for taking part in this interview, and to Angela Man from Orbit in helping make it possible! If you haven’t yet, please be sure to check out August Kitko and the Mechas from Space and their other work.

Cover design by Lisa Marie Pompilio; Illustration by Ben Zweifel

THE JASMINE THRONE by Tasha Suri

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The Jasmine Throne
(Burning Kingdoms Book 1)
By Tasha Suri
Orbit Books — June 2021
ISBN: 9780356515649 — Paperback — 533 pp.

This review never made it up on the Skiffy & Fanty blog. The second book in the Burning Kingdoms series comes out tomorrow, and I plan to have my review of it up there then. So in the meantime, I decided to put up my review of the first book here, in case readers weren’t already aware and enjoying this wonderful epic fantasy series…

Regular followers of Skiffy and Fanty may already recognize the name Tasha Suri as the author of the well-received duology The Books of Ambha. Back in Episode 356 of the podcast, Paul picked the first novel of that series, Empire of Sand as a favorite Epic Fantasy of 2018. I haven’t gotten a chance to read those, but I was fortunate enough to discover Suri’s talent with The Jasmine Throne, the first book in her new Burning Kingdoms series. Its sequel, The Oleander Sword, is scheduled for release this August, so if you haven’t delved into this yet, let me convince you.

Ruthless and fanatical Emperor Chandra of the Parijatdvipa Empire has punished his sister Princess Malini for failing to fulfill her duty of immolation to the Mothers of Flame. Exiled to the colonized Ahiranya, under the care of Regent Vikram, Malini is imprisoned within the Hirana, a decaying temple of the Ashiranyi culture. She pins her only hope of rescue on a friend known as Rao, a noble from the Aloran realm of the Empire who worships the Nameless God – a man who is trying to unite Parijati factions under Prince Aditya, the elder brother of Malini and Chandra, who has abdicated the throne to become a Priest of the Nameless after a religious epiphany.

The site of a now lost spring of magical waters, the Hirana was once home to Temple Elders and children, whose connection to the Yaksa gods of the Ahiranyi manifested through surviving sequential baptism in those waters to become reborn twice, and thrice. The power of the Yaksa and the political domination of Ahiranya during the Age of Flowers ultimately ended with Parijati colonization: the destruction of the temple and slaughter of its adepts. As the magic of the gods has faded and the Ahiranyi culture becomes silenced, a mysterious rot forms in the surrounding forests, infecting the most vulnerable and slowly spreading to lands of the Empire beyond.

But, not all of the Temple children died in the purge. Priya escaped with her temple brother Ashok, who left young Priya at the regent’s court in care of Vikram’s Ahiranyi wife, Bhumika. Bhumika happens to be another former child of the temple, who had left to care for family before the destruction had occurred. Priya became one of Bhumika’s maidservants, suppressing her innate magic, and turning her meager life to helping the destitute whenever she could: such as taking in a young boy named Rukh who suffers from the rot.

In the meantime, Priya’s temple brother Ashok has gone on to become the volatile leader of a rebellion against the empire, and has turned his sights on using Priya to rediscover the lost waters of the Hirana and regain the powers of the Yaksa to overturn the oppressive foreign rule. The threads of Princess Malini and Priya’s lives become entangled when the two encounter one another within the Hirana, and the each realize the power of the other, and the potential they may have together to change to world.

The Jasmine Throne begins with the line: “In the court of the imperial mahal, the pyre was being built.” I’ve not read a more fitting line to start a novel. The events of the prologue truly set things up as Emperor Chandra orders a literal pyre built for immolation of Malini and her maidservants. But, this action also starts building a metaphorical pyre that will soon engulf the Parijatdvipa Empire and its colonized Ahiranyi.

Suri starts with Malini’s act of defiant rebellion against the misogynistic religious fervor of her brother, introduces the humble and compassionate Priya, and then slowly weaves the complex tapestry of characters and plot summarized above. Suri excels at revealing her world of the Burning Kingdoms series in a manner that feels effortless, natural, and engaging. I never felt lost amid the cast of characters and their disparate story lines that become increasingly entangled. Revelations are given to readers in a logical way that matches the pace of foreshadowing; the system of magic and the history of these lands becomes clear through well-placed background information given to the reader that Suri organically integrates with the plot and character motivations.

Chapters are each written with an identified point-of-view character, mostly alternating between Malini and Priya, but intermixed with others, particularly Bhumika. These three women become the central core emotional core of the novel, disparate in their temperaments, social castes, and goals, but united by their femininity and a desire to be recognized and seen as individuals of agency who can support one another.

Malini sees this, for instance, in Priya:

“Priya hated being belittled. Priya hated not being seen. Hated being made small… It was lucky, then, that it was always so easy to meet Priya’s gaze. To look into that face and give her what she wanted, simply by allowing herself to be honest. Not having to manipulate Priya felt like a small blessing.”

[…]

“I do not think you are used to being seen, are you Priya?“

It made something warm settle in her stomach, that thought. That she had recognized the value of this woman when all others hadn’t. That somehow […] she had witnessed a woman full of raw potential. Someone powerful who looked at her and looked at her, as if Malini – sick, unkempt, her curls in a snarl and her mind liquid – had the sun inside her.”

The relationship between Malini and Priya builds from uncertain alliance to friendship and on to romance, rekindling Sapphic unions that were accepted by the ancients during the Age of Flowers, but only became taboo upon colonization. This parallels the reality for cultures of Southeast Asia where homosexuality had been historically accepted, only to become suppressed in modern times. Suri addresses this type of outcome from cultural colonization throughout the novel, not just in sexuality but also at the levels of language and art. She points out the collective psychological damage that can happen to a conquered people, and what such oppression can end up inciting:

“Symbolism is important. And freedom. You will not understand this, Princess Malini. But there is a subtle pain the conquered feel. Our old language is nearly lost. Our old ways. Even when we try to explain a vision of ourselves to one another – in our poetry, our song, our theater masks – we do so in opposition to you, or by looking to the past. As if we have no future. Parijatdvipa has reshaped us. It is not a conversation, but a rewriting. The pleasure of security and comfort can only ease the pain for so long… Now bloodshed is inevitable…I gladly enter a pact that allows the death to be minimized, and even a shade of our freedom, our selves, to be saved.”

Bhumika also yearns for a voice of her own to match the power she clandestinely wields within her colonialized marriage. Just as the Ahiranyi resent the yoke of the Empire that quashes their cultural identity, so too does Bhumika become frustrated by a husband who can only see her as something to control, rather than recognizing and making use of her unique strengths and talents. She laments how perverse this is in the context of Virkam’s child that she carries within her:

“A child should not be a chain, used to yoke a woman like cattle to a role, a purpose, a life she would not have chosen for herself. And yet she felt then, with an aching resentment, how Vikram would use their child to reduce and erase here. She hated him for that, for stealing the quiet and strange intimacy of her and her own flesh and blood and making it a weapon.”

The three female characters of The Jasmine Throne have led lives where others around them have painted them as deviants, as monsters, declaring that the only purposes for womanhood are procreation and sacrifice.

“Some parts of me are monstrous,” Malini said… “You know why? A woman of my status and breeding, Chandra told me, should serve her family. Everyone told me I should be obedient to my father and my brothers and one day, my husband. But Aditya and Chandra made their choices, and I didn’t simply accept those choices. I didn’t obey. Because my brothers were wrong. But more than anything, Priya – more than that – I’m monstrous because I have desires… I’ve avoided marriage. I’ll never willingly beget children with a man. And what is more monstrous than that? To be inherently, by your nature, unable to serve your purpose? To want, simply because you want, to love simply for the sake of love?”

The novel is about these three women finding each other amid political situations that force things to a head, that force them to act. They reject the demented violence of rebellious men like Ashok. They strip the ignorant Vikram of power, and they mold the more tempered support of Rao and Aditya to their own will. The Jasmine Throne is about these women coming into power to change the world together, each to their own strengths.

“I’ve never wanted justice. Maybe I should have, but the thing I truly wanted was myself back. And now I just want to know – to prove – that the temple elders were wrong. Parijatdvipa was wrong. My brothers and sisters and I, we were never monsters. We didn’t deserve what was done to us. I want to believe that. I want to know that. I want that to be true, and if it isn’t I want to make it true. But you, Malini,” she said. “You want to remake the world.”

Though Priya recognizes this first in Malini, by novel’s end, Priya effectively states a variation of the same thing as her immediate goal, as she looks to take on the Rot. I cannot wait to continue the story of these three women, and all the other characters. (I have no room here to also go into all the interesting things she does to enrich her secondary characters, such as Rao and Rukh.) Suri’s skills here at imagining a captivating world populated by profound characters has easily enticed me to also read The Books of Ambha. She writes one hell of an engaging epic fantasy, full of entertainment, heart, and meaning.

AUGUST KITKO AND THE MECHAS FROM SPACE by Alex White

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“… August Kitko and the Mechas from Space bursts with action, humor, and heart. Amid a dire and tragic setting of humanity facing apocalyptic extinction, it’s a hopeful shot of joyous adrenaline and whimsy. Confronting death, Gus and Ardent choose to celebrate life to its fullest, taking every moment they may have left to fully be themselves, and to be there for one another. White uses lively characterization and pacing – with an effective blend of space opera, mecha anime, and music – to tell a story of human strength, weakness, and resilience. The Starmetal Symphony is simply ripe for adaptation into a rock opera musical, and I’ll be sorely disappointed if that never happens.”

Read my entire review of August Kitko and the Mechas from Space HERE at Fantasy Book Critic.

Orbit Books – 12th July 2022 – Paperback – 464 pp.

SON OF THE STORM by Suyi Davies Okungbowa

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Son of the Storm
(The Nameless Republic Book 1)
By Suyi Davies Okungbowa
Orbit Books — May 2021
ISBN: 9780316428941 — Hardcover — 446 pp.

Though a scholar in training at the university of Bassa City, Danso itches for more than the typical Juri initiate. Within the walls of the ancient city, he hunts repositories for glances at forbidden texts the elite have secreted away. But, his gaze also goes to beyond the Bassai walls, yearning to know what lies beyond the Empire borders – wonders hinted at within the suppressed histories he’s dared read, mysteries seen glistening from the eyes of immigrants sworn to silence.

Danso is also physically atypical from those around him. He’s a Shanshi, one of mixed raced parentage with a lighter skin tone that the Bassai view as inferior. Though unable to ever attain the higher caste of society, Danso’s academic skills have placed him on course for a solid future, including arranged betrothal to Esheme, the head-strong daughter of Nem, an affluent woman who acts as the city’s leading Fixer, a tenuously powerful service that is one part feared and one part loathed by the Bassai.

Though on friendly terms, Danso and Esheme are opposites. The free-spirited and wistful Danso looks to horizons and mysteries beyond, with little sense of urgency or worry over immediate responsibility. Frequently late and disorganized, he bears a childish naïvety and aversion to facing discomforting truths that Esheme finds infuriating. With a parentage that also limits her social status in Basa, Esheme purposefully strides toward those challenges that stand in her way to greater power. And Danso is not necessarily a part of that plan. While Danso’s emotions can ultimately drive him to action, Esheme carefully suppresses her empathy from interfering with her ambitions.

The fragile coupling between Danso and Esheme strains further with the clandestine arrival of a stranger from the distant Nameless Islands to Bassa, a young woman named Lilong. Lilong is a Yellowskin, a people of dark-skinned heritage who are descended with an albinism mutation that lightens skin, eye, and hair pigmentation to an extreme of Otherness that long ago exiled them away from the Bassai mainland.

Lilong comes to the ancient heart of the Bassai Empire in search of an artifact that has been taken from her people, an ibor, a totem of bone rock that a wielder with inherent talent can use to channel supernatural feats at profound mental and physical costs. Lilong has one of her own, permitting her to change her appearance and track the totem to where it has ended up: the home of Nem and Esheme. Retrieving it and fleeing from Bassa, Lilong’s actions draw both Esheme and Danso onto separate paths that intersect with her own: three interwoven and transformative journeys.

Okungbowa models the continent of Oon and its Bassai Empire in the Nameless Republic series on the historical Benin Kingdom (Empire) of West Africa, and its city of Edo, later Benin City, eventually of modern day Nigeria where Okungbowa originally hails. (The Benin here bears no relationship to the present-day nation of Benin.) In this he creates an epic fantasy world filled with details and populated with characters that come 100% from West African root inspiration, a diversity of cultural and ‘racial’ elements from within a region that too often is viewed monochromatically by outsiders.

Such focus on West African diversity appears right at the start of the novel in a prologue set right at the literal intersections of political and cultural realms within Oon. Events are triggered in this setting to propel the plot threads of Son of the Storm that then entangle Danso and Esheme in Bassa with Lilong’s arrival. The opening third of the novel works hardest at the world building, most notably the class and ethnicity differences that define Bassai societal structure and views on immigrants. These reveal how such cultural struggles, injustices, and arbitrary ‘racial’ division is nothing remotely new to present day societies or immediate history. On the negative side, Son of the Storm does little to really subvert or transcend the Bassai racism or classism. Yet, I suspect this may be a theme that grows through the series to come.

That opening third of Son of the Storms is an essential foundation to the wonder and developments with the remainder of the novel. I found the pacing to be excellent throughout, but readers who find themselves not gripped by the start of the novel should not be dissuaded from continuing. The characters also start built of seemingly standard archetypes of epic fantasy, warriors, those on quest, those born into a familial destiny of changing the world.

However, Okungbowa does a fantastic job at developing these characters through their journeys, often subverting expectations of fantasy tropes. He balances well between the three main characters, making each of them compelling and flawed, yet capable of growth. As Esheme turns increasing into something more villainous and callous, Danso slowly progresses from innocence (and frankly, stupidity) into getting some sense knocked into him. Lilong changes from an isolated and wary force of anger and vengeance into a more trusting partner who can begin to see possible hope for the future.

The only critique I have for the characterization is in how Danso does often seem molded to obliviously succeed to help move the plot forward. His flaws may limit how quickly he progresses or limit the reach of what he ends up capable of doing, but the supernatural abilities he turns out to be able to command through ibor seems to rely on ‘inherent talent’ without adequate explanation (as of yet.)

The ‘magical’ elements of The Nameless Republic series are particularly fascinating. They revolve around the aformentioned ibor (essentially, this is ivory) as a conduit to the supernatural. Okungbowa makes a point on his blog that this is not an epic fantasy with magic. He distinguishes magic from things supernatural, with ibor being a link to other realms. It may be a semantic issue, but Okungbowa has a lot of interesting notes on the background to the cultures of Oon on his website, and it’s well worth checking all this detail out after reading Son of the Storm.

Son of the Storm succeeds for me because of its rich characters (even secondary ones like Nem – or Zaq, a loyal muscled giant who serves as indentured servant in Danso’s family – become absolutely captivating. It also succeeds in how well it ticks all the boxes for what one might expect from an epic fantasy, while remixing them and casting them with inspiration from West African history to make it all significantly fresh and captivating. Okungbowa also nicely plays with reader expectations for who the protagonist ‘hero’ or antagonist ‘villain’ for the novel (and series) will be, with the trio of connected characters who have elements of each within them.

Warrior of the Wind, the second novel in the series was originally slated for release sometime around now, Summer of 2022. However, latest information seems to be that it has moved into 2023. So there is still plenty of time to catch up on things with Son of the Storm, if you haven’t gotten to it yet. Or if you already have read it, in the meantime for any Stranger Things fans, Okungbowa has a YA novel soon out, Lucas on the Line, writing as Suyi Davies.

FOR THE THRONE by Hannah Whitten

/ Daniel Haeusser / Leave a comment

“… an extremely satisfying conclusion to Whitten’s Wilderwood dark romantic fantasy series. It’s an inventive fairy tale sequel that elevates the first novel from any perceived shortcomings to effectively tell the enchanting story of twin sisters tied together in love. Each of them fights, in linked mirror-image worlds, to save humanity. In so doing they affirm their free will, protect the magic with which they’ve been entrusted, and preserve the right of all to pursue lives of choice.”

Read my entire review of For the Throne (Wilderwood Book 2) HERE at Fantasy Book Critic.

Read my review for Book 1 of the Wilderwood Series, For the Wolf, HERE

Orbit Books – June 2022 – Paperback – 457 pp.

FOR THE WOLF by Hannah Whitten

/ Daniel Haeusser / 1 Comment

For the Wolf
(Wilderwood Book 1)
By Hannah Whitten
Orbit Books — June 2021
ISBN: 9780316592789 — Paperback — 437 pp.

To escape the will of the Kings, they fled into the far reaches of the Wilderwood. They pledged that were the forest to offer them shelter, they would give all they had for as long as their line continued, let it grow within their bones, and offer it succor. This they pledged through blood, willingly given, their sacrifice and bond.
The Wilderwood accepted their bargain, and they stayed within its border, to guard it and hold it fast against the things bound beneath. And every Second Daughter and every Wolf to come after would adhere to the bargain and the call and the Mark.
Upon the tree where they made their pledge, these words appeared, and I have saved the bark on which it is written:
The First Daughter is for the throne.
The Second Daughter is for the Wolf.
And the Wolves are for the Wilderwood.

Thus opens the first volume of Hannah Whitten’s Wilderwood series, a modern and atmospheric romantic fantasy that draws from deep folkloric roots of the “Animal as Bridegroom” archetype. As the first royal second daughter in centuries, Redarys (Red) has accepted her sacrifice to the monster within the mystical forest, taking in faith that the stories entwined with her fate are true. In contrast, her elder sister Neverah (Neve) skeptically pleads with Red to resist, and with their mother to stand up against the religious traditions.

Though wary of her uncertain future, Red feels equal fear at the prospects of staying home. She wrestles with her obligations to longtime friend Arick who harbors romantic feelings that she cannot bring herself to reciprocate. Even more, she worries about a mysterious power within her that once boiled to the surface in a dangerous moment that almost left Neve dead. Red remains uncertain of who she is, what she is. And, if the Wilderwild is indeed a part of that puzzle, she is ready to discover what that means. Perhaps she can even succeed where second daughters of the past have apparently failed: in convincing the Wolf to let the imprisoned Five Kings go free.

With Red’s entry into the Wilderwood to meet her destiny the novel steps into a rhythm of sets of chapters that focus on her third-person point-of-view, broken up by interludes from Neve’s. Though Red serves as novel’s protagonist, Whitten makes her sister’s importance clear. I imagine this will bear more fruit with a focus on the first daughter in the sequel For the Throne that is coming out this June.

Once in the cursed forest, Red comes upon a ruined castle and a man within. He is Eammon, the warden, the wolf, son of the original couple that made a pact with the mystical wood. She discovers that the myths she has learned don’t speak the entire truth. And she begins to explore powers within her that might not just keep her and Eammon safe, but also protect the Kingdom and the world beyond safe from the real monsters that are eager to spring forth from their containment. However, forces gather back in the Kingdom in the meantime to take exert control over Neve and block either her or Red from reaching their potentials.

For the Wolf is a novel that’s about two young women discovering not only what they are capable of, but what they want. It’s about learning to make difficult choices, but also embracing the freedom of having the agency to be able to make those choices for oneself. To really be in power, rather than needing another to provide it or permit it. If not already apparent over the course of the novel, Whitten transparently summarizes it within the novel’s climax:

It was time for choices. [Red] could see only one.
“Arick.” Her voice was hoarse.
“At his name, Arick’s eyes closed tighter. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “We were all just trying to save you.”
“Come here.” Tears choked her. “Come here, please.”
A pause, then a lurch as he moved over the darkened ground. Red fought to keep herself steady against her childhood love’s broken stance and the sure knowledge of things vast and terrible stirring beneath her feet.
She reached up when he came close enough to touch, gently laid her fingers on his bloodied face. “I know you didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“No. But I didn’t care what was going to happen, not then.” There was shame in it, just barely. “I only wanted you safe.”
Red’s lips pressed white. All of them loved like burning, no thought for the ashes.
“I am safe.” Her hand left his face, fell to her dagger. She tried not to think on it, tried to let her body work without her mind’s direction. “I love Eammon, and he loves me. That’s safe.”
Another roar ripped through the grove. “Do you love he’s become?”
“We’ve both been monsters,” Red whispered. “I’ll love him, whatever he is.”
“You loved me once. You never said it, but you did.” Arick’s dry throat worked a swallow, eyes still pressed shut. “Didn’t you?”
“I did.” It was barely a whisper, this gentle thing that existed beyond truth and lie. Her fingers closed around the dagger hilt. “Not the way you wanted me to. But I did.”
His eyes opened. “Do it quick, then.”

The cover of For the Wolf, along with Red’s name, may lead readers to believe that the novel is a take on “Little Red Riding Hood”, but it really draws more from “The Beauty and the Beast”. Also, I would not characterize it is ‘dark’ fantasy as Jodi Picoult does in her cover blurb. It may not be bright or optimistic, but neither does it lie very close to horror. Brooding romantic fantasy would be a more apt description, and it’s an important consideration.

For the Wolf is well written, with fantastic prose and exceptionally lush visual imagery. The themes are great, and the world building is enticing. But, for my tastes Whitten emphasizes the style and plot to the neglect of fleshing out characters or the potential of that world building. The romance at the heart of the novel is not a sub-genre element I gravitate toward, because it’s a complex bundle of emotions and social patterns that get so often simplified to cliché. This seems particularly true with young love written all angsty and brooding. Eammon fits the mold perfectly, a rough and gruff exterior hiding a puppy dog core. The relationship between Red and Eammon reads very much like the bits I’ve read from YA fantasy formulas. Though Red is well developed, all other characters lack significant attention. I found this particularly unfortunate with secondary characters who give glimpses of interesting histories and personalities.

The magical system of the Wilderwood series, and the reality of its mythology become slowly revealed over the course of the novel, right on up to its close. Paradoxically, information is both repetitive and lacking in that Whitten provides some details multiple times while leaving other matters unanswered or unaddressed. Partially this comes from the character’s own ignorance and confusion on how the Wilderwood and its magical pacts work. But that also easily confounds the reader. I remain uncertain about the limits and possibilities of magic here, of the nature of the Five Kings, or the Shadowlands, or even the forest. I just know that somehow the union of Red and Eammon, and the supporting sisterhood of Red and Neve will somehow keep the world safe from evil.

Thus, there are a lot of individual elements to For the Wolf that make it an interesting novel, they just don’t come together in a way I found really satisfying, or emphasize the complexities and details I find most intriguing.

However, if you like a good romantic fantasy, made up of a tried-and-true formula done well, then this would certainly be a novel that you might love. Whitten’s writing is evocative with a stress on the magical atmosphere of the novel’s sylvan setting. The novel’s central themes are fantastic. I just yearned for something a bit more complex in character interaction and clearer in world-building from that foundation.

I still plan to read the sequel, For the Throne, which I’m scheduled to review in June for Fantasy Book Critic. I can imagine Whitten writing something that was more in my wheelhouse, even within this series, but regardless I know there is an audience for this, even if that’s not me.