Feed aggregator

Very informative as always, with this info it makes me wonder if Tobias and Helen are using Essentia Capacity prejudice as an excuse for why they are not the heirs.

On the topic of Essentia Capacity, and since I love loophole abuses is it possible to use four sigls at once with one of them being a Primal sigl increasing essentia to “trick the body” as it were into thinking it can use three sigls?

I received a review copy from the publisher. This does not affect the contents of my review and all opinions are my own.

The Maid’s Secret by Nita Prose

Mogsy’s Rating (Overall): 4 of 5 stars

Genre: Mystery

Series: Book 3 of Molly the Maid

Publisher: Random House Audio (April 8, 2025)

Length: 11 hrs and 3 mins

Author Information: Website

I’ve been following the Molly the Maid series since The Maid which first introduced its unforgettable protagonist to readers, so it is with a mix of warmth and bittersweetness that I approached The Maid’s Secret. Although I can’t say with a hundred percent certainty, judging by the emotionally satisfying conclusion and the way everything seemed to be neatly tied up, I suspect this may very well be Molly Gray’s last case.

This time around, life is looking up for Molly. In The Mistletoe Mystery novella published shortly before this novel, her boyfriend Juan Manuel proposed so now the couple is joyfully preparing for their upcoming wedding. But holding dual roles as Head Maid and Special Events Manager at the Regency Grand also means Molly is kept quite busy, especially when an upcoming episode of the popular antique appraisal series Hidden Treasures is set to be filmed at the hotel. When the show’s charismatic hosts, Brown and Beagle, invite the staff to take part in the event, Molly decides to throw together a few of her late grandmother’s keepsakes in a simple shoebox to bring along.

Much to everyone’s surprise, a sparkly bejeweled egg among Gran’s old possessions turns out to be a priceless Fabergé prototype. Announced in front of a live audience, the news catapults Molly into the spotlight and turns her into an overnight celebrity. With the egg’s value appraised at millions of dollars, she also suddenly finds herself fielding questions about whether she will sell it and what she might do with the fortune if she does. After all, with that much money, she and Juan Manuel would be able to have the wedding of their dreams, not to mention financial stability for the rest of their lives. But just as things seem too good to be true, the egg is stolen in a brazen heist, and Molly finds herself embroiled in another high-profile mystery.

As it turns out, the only clues as to who stole the priceless heirloom may lie in a newly discovered diary written by Gran, whose secret past as a wealthy young heiress ends up being the key to everything. The end result is a novel created by two separate, alternating narratives: one that follows Molly’s present-day investigation, and another that reveals Gran’s coming-of-age tale as young Flora Gray.

This dual timeline structure adds a deeper layer of emotional resonance to The Maid’s Secret by exploring the protagonist’s family legacy, thus making it far more complex than its predecessors beyond just a simple whodunit. While the cozy charm of the Regency Grand still grounds this story, Gran now shares the spotlight with Molly through her diary entries, which are addressed to her beloved granddaughter. These chapters add a historical touch and no small amount of nostalgia as they unfold with poignant drama, chronicling Flora’s struggles against her cold, controlling parents. Determined to secure their daughter’s future with a marriage into another wealthy family, they are blindsided when Flora chooses to follow her heart instead, engaging in a forbidden romance with a servant’s son.

Inevitably though, the focus is shifted away from Molly and her friends and colleagues in the present, which may disappoint readers who were expecting more from the tightly knit Regency Grand group. Young Gran’s chapters feel like a world away in comparison, and if you came to this book for more Molly, this unexpected turn of events might feel a bit like a bait-and-switch. Nevertheless, Flora’s past provides essential context for the furor surrounding the central mystery regarding the stolen Fabergé, and personally I found her backstory fascinating. As someone who has always loved the sweet, heartwarming nature of the relationship between Molly and Gran, I felt that the latter’s diary entries managed to bring the series full circle with beautiful purpose.

To sum it all up, if The Maid’s Secret is indeed the series’ finale, in my opinion you couldn’t ask for a more fitting conclusion. Molly remains a singular and beloved character who has grown so much over the last three novels, and I had fun watching every moment of her journey. The stories in these books might not be the most thrilling or unpredictable, but they are warm and comfortable and uplifting, like a favorite sweater or a hot cup of tea on a chilly day. A well-deserved round of applause also goes to Lauren Ambrose for her impeccable work as narrator on these audiobooks. Listening to this whole series has been an absolute joy.

More on The BiblioSanctum:
Review of The Maid (Book 1)
Review of The Mystery Guest (Book 2)
Review of The Mistletoe Mystery (Book 2.5)

Happy Spring! It’s nearly time for the release of WE COULD BE MAGIC, my new swoony YA graphic novel, and I have goodies to share!

There is a preorder campaign going on now for readers in the US and Canada. Preorder your copy and upload your receipt to receive these special items below:

• An adorable scrunchie set inspired by the book

• An exclusive digital sneak peek of THE HOUSE SAPHIR (my next fairy tale retelling, coming out this fall!)

A swoon-worthy young adult graphic novel about a girl’s summer job at a theme park from #1 New York Times bestselling author Marissa Meyer.

When Tabitha Laurie was growing up, a visit to Sommerland saved her belief in true love, even as her parents’ marriage was falling apart. Now she’s landed her dream job at the theme park’s prestigious summer program, where she can make magical memories for other kids, guests, and superfans just like her. All she has to do is audition for one of the coveted princess roles, and soon her dreams will come true.

There’s just one problem. The heroes and heroines at Sommerland are all, well… thin. And no matter how much Tabi lives for the magic, she simply doesn’t fit the park’s idea of a princess.

Given a not-so-regal position at a nacho food stand instead, Tabi is going to need the support of new friends, a new crush, and a whole lot of magic if she’s going to devise her own happily ever after. . . without getting herself fired in the process.

With art by Joelle Murray, the wonder of Sommerland comes to life with charming characters and whimsical backdrops. We Could Be Magic is a perfect read for anyone looking to get swept away by a sparkly summer romance.

How to get your swag:

• Preorder your copy via my Bookshop.org store (or wherever you normally purchase your books).
• Submit your receipt here. US/Canada only. See link for full details.

I’m going on tour and hope to see you!

See the special tour linktree for individual event details and ticketing.

The House Saphir

I know many of you are anxiously awaiting THE HOUSE SAPHIR. Not only is there an exclusive sneak peek coming for those who preorder WE COULD BE MAGIC, but other giveaways are coming, including a romance inspired one over on Instagram, so make sure you follow me to get the latest.

THE HOUSE SAPHIR comes out November 4, but you can add it to Goodreads now and preorder your copy from my store at Bookshop.org (or wherever you get your books). Don’t forget to keep those receipts *hint, hint*.

Until next time, happy reading and I hope to see you soon on the WE COULD BE MAGIC tour!

With love,

Marissa

The post We Could Be Magic Tour, Preorder Goodies, and Upcoming Giveaways! first appeared on Marissa Meyer.

Nightmare Weekend Chicago 2025

One of the most entertaining aspects of working for Black Gate is hitting the road with Photog Chris Z to cover horror-themed events in the Midwest. Though many people think about Halloween during the fall months, there is an enormous subculture of vendors, artists, and fans for whom the spooky season never ends. This year, Chicago was not only the site of an entirely new show just for this audience but also the first city to host it—and we had a front-row seat on opening night.

GalaxyCon, LLC, founded in 2006 by Mike Broder and based in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, is one of the leading organizers of pop culture conventions in the United States. Initially focused on comic books, anime, and broader fan engagement, GalaxyCon has successfully expanded its portfolio to include horror-themed entertainment with its Nightmare Weekend series.

The crowd at Nightmare Weekend Chicago 2025

The expansion into horror began in response to the genre’s increasing popularity, particularly its blend of nostalgia, cult fandom, and crossover appeal to mainstream audiences. With Nightmare Weekend, GalaxyCon has carved out a distinct identity in the horror convention scene, blending celebrity meet-and-greets, specialized vendors, themed parties, and curated entertainment.

The Nightmare Weekend events (of which there are four more in other cities this year) reflect Broder’s business philosophy of engaging fans across diverse interests. “Horror is not just a genre; it’s a lifestyle for many fans,” Broder explained in a recent interview. “Nightmare Weekend is our way of celebrating the culture and giving horror enthusiasts a place to connect and indulge their passion.”

Best. Cosplay. Ever.

We were thrilled to get an invite to cover the inaugural event in Chicago last weekend. To start, there was an impressive lineup of celebrities, including William Shatner, Jeremy Renner, and Barry Bostwick just to name a few. Unfortunately, many of the top names only appeared on Saturday and Sunday so we missed them. Chris Z did get to meet his favorite cosplayer, Ashlynne Dae and we both had a chance to catch up with our favorite Munster, Butch Patrick, who is starting to feel like a member of the family.

Though GalaxyCon hasn’t released official stats for Nightmare Weekend Chicago, we counted roughly 100 artists in the “Artists Alley” area and over 150 vendors, who together occupied one of the largest halls in the Rosemont Convention Center. We inevitably saw a few people and products we had seen at other shows. However, we were thrilled at all the uniqueness we found. Here’s few in no particular order…

Soheyla Seiff and her incredible wreaths

Seiffs Wreaths: Based in South Elgin, Illinois, Soheyla Seiff has been crafting handmade, custom wreaths since 2024. The company specializes in creating unique deco mesh wreaths that cater to a variety of themes, including holidays, special occasions, pop culture, and horror fandoms. Each wreath is meticulously designed to reflect its theme, offering customers a personalized touch to their decor. Notably, Seiff’s Wreaths has gained recognition for its horror-themed wreaths, featuring designs inspired by classic horror films and characters, making them a favorite among genre enthusiasts. Customers can explore and purchase these handcrafted creations through Seiff’s official website or their Etsy shop, where each piece is made with attention to detail and a passion for thematic artistry.

Wynnwood Farms Teas, Elixirs & Bitters

Wynnwood Farms Teas, Elixirs & Bitters: This boutique tea and apothecary brand, based in Houston, Texas, and owned by Alexandria and Debbie Wynn, offers a unique fusion of storytelling and sensory indulgence through their “Dead to Me Collective” collection. This curated selection features horror and storybook-themed teas, elixirs, and bitters, each crafted to transport consumers into a world of imagination and flavor.

The “Midnight Horror” tea line pays homage to classic horror narratives, with blends like “Dr. Frankenstein,” “Final Girl,” and “The Raven,” inviting tea enthusiasts to experience tales of terror and intrigue with every sip. Complementing these are their handcrafted elixirs and bitters from “The Spellbound Alchemist” series, meticulously produced in small batches by a mother-daughter duo. These concoctions, such as “The Lovers” cocktail bitters — a blend of chocolate, cherry bark, and vanilla — are designed to elevate both wellness routines and mixology experiences.

Crystallo Card Game

Crystallo Card Game: It wouldn’t be a convention without one of us picking up a new game. Though this isn’t “horror” per se, it is still a very cool concept. Plus, the shiny things attracted my attention. Crystallo, designed by Liberty Kifer, is a solo card game where players rescue magical creatures trapped by the Black Dragon’s crystal magic. Combining set collection and tile placement, the game challenges players to form crystal patterns and ultimately trap the dragon. With stunning artwork, tactile acrylic gems, and a 30-minute playtime, Crystallo offers an engaging and replayable experience for solo gamers. Expansions like “Untold Fortune” and “Den of Dragons” add depth and complexity to this enchanting adventure.

Scott Donley and Cranked Up Films/TV

Good Deed Entertainment: Scott Donley is the founder and CEO of Good Deed Entertainment (GDE), an independent film studio established in 2012 and headquartered in Ashland, Ohio. Under Donley’s leadership, GDE has built a reputation for producing and distributing character-driven content across various platforms, including film, television, and digital media. The company is perhaps best known for releasing the Academy Award-nominated animated feature Loving Vincent, which tells the story of painter Vincent van Gogh in his signature style. In addition to Loving Vincent, GDE has distributed titles such as Karmalink, Carmen, and Some Freaks, along with the Independent Spirit Award-nominated To Dust and the Annie Award-nominated Charlotte.

Recognizing the growing interest in genre films, Donley launched Cranked Up Films, a division of GDE that focuses on high-concept horror, grounded sci-fi, and speculative fiction. This initiative has led to the production and distribution of films like Nightmare Cinema, a horror anthology featuring segments directed by notable filmmakers such as Mick Garris (Sleepwalkers, Critters 2) and Joe Dante (Gremlins, The Howling). Donley was at Nightmare Weekend promoting his newest venture, Cranked Up TV, the premier destination for ad-free, independent horror, so we now know where our next binge-watch will come from.

Author Evan Clouse of Hanging Chad Books

Hanging Chads Books: Evan Clouse, a former social worker turned author, has made a notable entry into the horror genre with his Hanging Chads series. Launched during what he humorously refers to as his “2/3-life crisis,” Clouse’s writing delves into dark, satirical narratives that blend horror, political commentary, and dark humor. The series follows Maddy Sommers, a vigilante serial killer targeting abusers and oppressors, offering readers a mix of gruesome justice and emotional depth. Clouse’s work has been recognized for its unique approach to horror, combining elements of mystery, love, and social critique.

The Chicago Horror Film Festival 2025

Last, we had to tell you about two other Midwest events coming soon. The Chicago Horror Film Festival 2025 celebrates its 26th year at the Logan Theater May 16-18. Touted as one of the top 10 horror festivals worldwide, CHFF showcases a curated selection of independent horror films from around the globe, including local and international shorts and features. Tickets start at just $10, with full weekend passes available for $68.99.

The Milwaukee Horror Con returns for its “Fall Frightmare” edition from September 5–7, 2025, at the Four Points by Sheraton Milwaukee Airport Convention Center. As Wisconsin’s only dedicated horror convention, this three-day event promises an immersive experience with horror legends, indie film screenings, themed vendors, cosplay contests, and late-night thrills.

As for GalaxyCon, they are aggressively broadening the reach of Nightmare Weekend to new cities in 2025, including:

• Nightmare Weekend Cleveland: August 29–31, 2025, at the Huntington Convention Center in Cleveland, Ohio.
• Nightmare Weekend Des Moines: September 12–14, 2025, at the Iowa Events Center in Des Moines, Iowa.
• Nightmare Weekend Richmond: October 17–19, 2025, at the Greater Richmond Convention Center in Richmond, Virginia.
• Nightmare Weekend Savannah: November 14–16, 2025, at the Savannah Convention Center in Savannah, Georgia.

A huge thanks to Justin Burkhardt and the Nightmare Weekend promotions team for including us in this first-ever event. We can’t wait for next year.

The Protectorate – an interdimensional empire that has conquered five timelines so far – has set its sights on ours. Led by a man willing to risk everything for power and conquest, armed with technology a hundred years ahead of ours – technology promising salvation to its allies and doom to its enemies – and drawing on a far deeper military history, the Protectorate Expeditionary Force has arrived to invade and incorporate our world into the greatest empire the multiverse has ever known, or die trying.

The United States has won a desperate battle against the crosstime invaders, but large swathes of the country remain under enemy occupation, the struggle to understand invader technology has barely begun and a new invasion force has appeared in the Middle East. As the country staggers and threatens to collapse, the military prepares for a major offensive that could make or break the war, while – deep in the heart of Texas – the invaders prepare a plan of their own …

One battle has been won. The war is far from over.

Download a FREE SAMPLE, then purchase from Amazon US, UK, CAN, AUS, Books2Read.

The River Is Waiting is the propulsive story of a young father who, after an…

The post Spotlight on “The River is Waiting” by Wally Lamb appeared first on LitStack.

 Did I already post about this book before? 

And did I already read it because I know the author and she gave me an early digital copy?

Yes! to both these questions.
But this book is so good!
Believe me: you want it! It's utterly amazing and beautiful in and out! 
Go preorder: I totally did.

Never the Rosesby Jennifer K. Lambert
UNSTOPPABLE WAR. UNSPEAKABLE SINS. IMPOSSIBLE LOVE.
Genevieve Gornichec’s The Witch’s Heart meets Madeline Miller’s Circe in this epic and deeply emotional romantic fantasy debut by Jennifer K. Lambert. The hardcover edition features beautiful stenciled edges.
The Dread Sorceress Oneira has retired. She’s exhausted from fighting the endless wars of kings and queens, and has long accepted that her death is near. Alone at last but for a few uninvited companions―a near-mythical wolf, a goddess’s avatar, and a feline that embodies magic itself―Oneira realizes that she’s bored. On a whim, or perhaps at the behest of fate, she makes an unlikely trip to the most extensive library in existence: the home of her most powerful rival, the sorcerer Stearanos.
By recklessly stealing a book from him, Oneira inadvertently initiates a forbidden correspondence. Taunting notes and clever retorts reveal a connection neither has found―nor could ever find―in any other.
But Oneira soon learns that Stearanos, bound to a vile king, is tasked with waging war on the queen she once served. A relationship with him is far too dangerous to pursue despite their mutual desire―and yet, Oneira can’t seem to stay away.
A bond with Stearanos could alight the long-extinct flame of life within her… or it could destroy her entirely.

Expected publication July 8, 2025

The vacation was amazing. The air was 80F. The ocean was 80F. The pools were great. The room was spectacular. The food was delicious. The drinks were to die for.

We went on a date to this restaurant that was technically part of the resort but set outside of the grounds, by a busy street. We sat on a terrace, under a canvas, watched the foot traffic and listened to a remarkably good live singer. At some point I had a moment of wondering if this was actually happening. It’s been so long since we had a vacation. Last year, we had a weekend in Daytona. That was it. I needed this in the worst way.

We swam so much. I miss it already.

We are back home, and the dishwasher drainage line is clogged. We’ve taken the dishwasher apart, checked the fan, and have done the boiling water trick, so it looks like we have to get a plumber involved. Reality, coming like a freight train.

Professional News

This Kingdom is a hot potato. We have now sold the rights to 5 foreign countries, most of which we cannot contractually disclose yet, but we are free to say that we will be working with Tor UK. We are very excited.

We have seen the cover sketches. They sent 3 sketches and all three were great. We picked a favorite and can’t wait to see it in color and detail. I don’t want to jinx it, so I won’t say more.

Book Recommendation

I usually don’t read while we work. It’s very hard to shift gears from concentrating on the narrative to enjoying it. While on vacation, though, I downloaded a series through Kindle Unlimited and I glomed it. I’ve read 4.5 books at this point. Big thanks to Matt, Alisha, Sauron, and Christy for recommending the Azarinth Healer series.

Ilea likes punching things. And eating.

Unfortunately, there aren’t too many career options for hungry brawlers. Instead, the plan is to quit her crappy fast-food job, go to college, and become a fully functioning member of society. Essentially – a fate worse than death.

So maybe it’s lucky that she wakes up one day in a strange world where a bunch of fantasy monsters are trying to kill her…?

On the bright side, ‘killing those monsters right back’ is now a viable career path! For she soon discovers her new home runs on a set of game-like rules that will allow her to punch things harder than in her wildest dreams. Well, maybe not her wildest dreams, but it’s close.

With no quest to follow, no guide to show her the way, and no real desire to be a Hero – Ilea embarks on a journey to discover a world full of magic. Magic she can use to fight even bigger monsters.

She’s struggling to survive, has no idea what will happen next, and is loving every minute of it. Except, and sometimes also, when she’s poisoned and/or has set herself on fire. It’s complicated.

Read the story that took Royal Road by storm with over 60 million views and counting.

It’s a classic LitRPG, the stats, the battles, the violence. A prefect beach read for me. I really enjoyed the action. The protagonist is endearing and is authentically a 20 year old. The world is imaginative and exciting. The Silver Rose dungeon was chef’s kiss. I’m a horrible harpy who hates everything, and I couldn’t stop reading it. If you like LitRPG, this is a good one.

For the romance readers: there is none. There is some casual sex with the door closed.

There is an audiobook and it is good. I listened to about half of the first one on the plane.

Fair warning for people fresh to the genre: this series concentrates a lot on the battles. You get very detailed blow by blow fights. I like battles and there were times my eyes started glazing over. Like if you think our fight scenes are too long, these are much more detailed.

Here is the link to Amazon: Azarinth Healer. There is always another drake.

The post Back to Life, Back to Reality and Book Recommendation first appeared on ILONA ANDREWS.

Let me begin with two assertions, each of which is, in the immortal words of Vincent Vega, “a bold statement.” First: David Cronenberg is one of our greatest directors, and there is nothing he has done that isn’t worth seeing. Second: I am the dumbest, most suicidally foolhardy person you will ever meet. The first statement is arguable, ultimately a matter of opinion, but the second is not, because I can prove it. In fact, I can use the first proposition to establish the validity of the second one.

In case you’ve been living under a rock for the past fifty years, David Cronenberg is the Mutant King of body horror; in stomach-churning, Manson Family date movies like Rabid (an extremely icky form of vampirism), The Brood (nasty little “rage monsters” popping right out of poor Samantha Eggar), Scanners (you want exploding heads — you’ve got exploding heads), and Videodrome (I… I can’t even talk about it, and to this day, neither can James Woods) he set new standards in shockingly gross special effects and in the number of times he forced audience members to barf in their popcorn buckets or make panicked rushes to the restroom.

I thought all these movies were terrific (and not just because of the wild effects — wipe off all the blood and underneath you’ll find a sharp, mordant intelligence with something serious to say), so when Cronenberg’s version of The Fly hit the multiplexes in 1986 it was a must-see for me, and it was with high hopes that I took my lovely wife of barely eighteen months to see it. We were both looking forward to a fun night at the movies. Well…

I had a great time.

Marianne, on the other hand, checked out when Geena Davis gave birth to a bouncing baby maggot (which, to be fair, happened in a dream, so I don’t think it really counts) and spent the last twenty minutes of The Fly hunched over in her seat with her eyes tightly closed, waiting for me to give her the all clear, so she missed John Getz getting his hand dissolved into a bloody stump by fly-spit, Jeff Goldblum’s final insect form emerging while big chunks of his raw red flesh fell off and went splat on the floor, and the bug’s tragic end when his head gets blown to smithereens by a shotgun blast. (She assures me that hearing it all was just as nauseating as seeing it would have been.)

Hey, it was just one rocky evening at the movies; it could have happened to anyone. The main thing is to learn from an experience like that, right?

Fast-forward to 1988. Now the movie creating all the buzz isn’t The Fly — it’s a little something called Dead Ringers. Yeah, I know who directed it, but there are no exploding heads or weird vaginal apertures appearing where they have no business being in this movie. This one is a showcase for serious acting; it’s a character study, you know?

So it was that I persuaded my wife to go to another David Cronenberg movie. (I actually forgot to mention that he was the director. I guess it just slipped my mind.) Not only that, but I also convinced two of our closest friends to come along, women my wife taught school with. This will be great! Diane and Susan are going to love this movie, honey! It’s based on a true story! (Obviously, my motto is, “Be stupid. Be very stupid.”)

I wasn’t lying; Dead Ringers is a great movie, and it is indeed a brilliantly-acted character study. By any measure it’s a darkly seductive, ravishingly shot knockout.

So far, so good. There’s just one problem. Dead Ringers is also, first and foremost, a David Cronenberg movie. And there lies the rub.

Dead Ringers is about identical twin brothers, Elliot and Beverly Mantle, both played by Jeremy Irons. Elliot is smooth, socially ambitious, self-assured and confident (often too much so), while Beverly is introverted, cautious, and much more emotionally vulnerable than his glib twin.

The two characters share a lot of screen time, and one of the best things about the movie is how well Cronenberg employs all the tricks of the trade to make it seem as if Irons really is two different people in the same room together, a task made easier by Irons’ brilliance at subtly differentiating the brothers. (Whenever we see him alone, we instantly know which one he is.)

They are a peculiar pair, these two, and extremely close to each other, even for identical twins. They live together and are in business together, and often one brother seamlessly takes the other’s place when they have to appear at professional functions and the like, and no one is ever the wiser. (Remember The Patty Duke Show?) However, complications ensue when they start sharing the same lover, Claire Niveau, a movie actress played by Geneviève Bujold. The problem is that, for quite a while, Claire doesn’t know that she’s dealing with two separate people, and when she finds out, she’s not happy. Ooops.

The bulk of the movie is taken up with showing how first Beverly and then Elliot start to come apart under the pressure of their extraordinary personal and professional charade, with both brothers eventually becoming delusional drug addicts and descending into outright madness. As you might guess, it doesn’t end well, and things really go downhill when the fraternal craziness starts to manifest itself at the workplace; the whole ghastly situation is made far worse because of the unique nature of the twins’ profession.

What? I didn’t mention what the Mantle brothers do for a living? How careless of me.

No, they’re not architects. They don’t work at the DMV. They’re not certified public accountants or major league baseball players or long-haul truck drivers.

They’re gynecologists.

You begin to appreciate the depth of my folly, don’t you?

I began to think that I had made a mistake during the opening credits, which feature medieval woodcuts of women cross-sectioned to show the children they’re carrying against a background of antique medical instruments that look like they were found lying around Torquemada’s garage; the implications were not comforting.

My growing unease turned to outright panic when an increasingly demented Beverly uses a bulky surgical retractor to conduct an examination on an unfortunate woman; I don’t know if the lady was a method actress, but her winces and grimaces certainly seemed to be coming from someplace real. Halfway through this excruciating scene, I started looking around for an escape route, but I knew it was hopeless; they would drag me down before I made it halfway to the exit.

Then Beverly starts to believe that there’s “something wrong” with “the insides” of all of his patients, that all of the women he’s examining are actually mutants, and he commissions an avant-garde artist to make him a set of “gynecological instruments for working on mutant women.” They look like fruit hanging from a tree on some nightmare alien planet.

The twins operate a fertility clinic (judging from the body of his work — no pun intended — you have to believe that for Cronenberg, birth holds more horror than death), and when Beverly shows up for an operation with these grotesque instruments and actually tries to use them on a patient, he almost kills the woman and the career of the acclaimed Mantle brothers comes to an abrupt and ignominious end.

Despite my sense of impending personal doom, I was powerfully moved by the film’s somber ending, with the outcast brothers lying dead in each other’s arms, as close as they were in their mother’s womb, as close as they had always been during their tragic lives. It almost brought me to tears, in fact.

The tears on the faces of my wife and our friends, however, were of an altogether different kind. They say that it can get to almost fifty below zero in Antarctica. That’s positively balmy compared to the chill I felt walking out of the theater and in the car on the way home, and I was soon to learn that no lamed and bitter ex-cavalry officer can put as much rage and loathing into the word “stirrups” as your average woman can. Some things, I suppose, are just too personal for art.

Well, it was all a long time ago and all those fine ladies eventually forgave me for making them watch a gynecological horror movie, and I did learn a lesson. A year later, the shoe was on the other foot when I sat in the theater with the same group watching Steel Magnolias, and despite my agony, I knew better than to say a single word. I like having all my limbs.

Three or four years ago, I picked up a beautiful Criterion Collection edition of Cronenberg’s 1996 film of J.G. Ballard’s novel, Crash, which I missed when it was in the theater. When I read the book decades ago, my jaw hung open the whole time; it’s the most radically, shockingly transgressive thing I’ve ever read. Of course David Cronenberg made a movie of it. The Blu-ray has been sitting on the shelf since I bought it; I’ve never yet been able to work up the courage to actually watch it. Once seen, some things can never be unseen.

But I do wonder; some evening soon, Marianne is going to ask, “What are we going to watch tonight?”

What do you think? Should I…

Thomas Parker is a native Southern Californian and a lifelong science fiction, fantasy, and mystery fan. When not corrupting the next generation as a fourth grade teacher, he collects Roger Corman movies, Silver Age comic books, Ace doubles, and despairing looks from his wife. His last article for us was Odd Old Indie: Night Tide

Here are this week’s 7 Author Shoutouts. Find your favorite author or discover an author…

The post 7 Author Shoutouts | Authors We Love To Recommend appeared first on LitStack.

 

The Twisted Onesby T. Kingfisher
What is it about:When a young woman clears out her deceased grandmother’s home in rural North Carolina, she finds long-hidden secrets about a strange colony of beings in the woods.
When Mouse’s dad asks her to clean out her dead grandmother's house, she says yes. After all, how bad could it be?
Answer: pretty bad. Grandma was a hoarder, and her house is stuffed with useless rubbish. That would be horrific enough, but there’s more—Mouse stumbles across her step-grandfather’s journal, which at first seems to be filled with nonsensical rants…until Mouse encounters some of the terrifying things he described for herself.
Alone in the woods with her dog, Mouse finds herself face to face with a series of impossible terrors—because sometimes the things that go bump in the night are real, and they’re looking for you. And if she doesn’t face them head on, she might not survive to tell the tale.
What did I think of it:This is yet another really cool horror!
As always Kingfisher managed to creep me out even before anything really scary or creepy happened. I really liked Mouse and her dog, and even though in the first few pages you discover that Mouse is telling the story after the fact, I worried about the two of them. 
The building tension and atmosphere is once again so good! It kept me glued to the pages to find out what would happen next. I'm impressed how Kingfisher can write dark atmosphere and manage to have the story be funny at times as well, I must say.
Note: This story is inspired by The White People by Arthur Machen, which I definitely plan to read to see where the stories connect. 
All in all another one for my keeper shelves. We'll try one of Kingfisher's more romantic books next.
Why should you read it:It's a humorous and suspenseful horror read

I tend to write a lot of mystery novellas. They’re too long for traditional publishers, which makes them perfect for WMG. We can put the novellas in book form.

Over the last year, a number of you have asked how to get my Derringer-award winning novella, “Catherine The Great,” and while you can get it in last year’s Holiday Spectacular compilation, that’s only available in ebook. Many of you want paper…and I get it. I do too.

So, we decided to put it into paper. And by the time we got to that project, I had also written three other mystery/crime novellas. One is a thriller (Kizzie) and two are more straightforward mysteries. We put all four in a Kickstarter that launches today.

Here’s the video for the Kickstarter. Over the next week, I’ll also share the book trailers with you for the novellas. However, if you’d like to see them now, head to the Kickstarter. They’re all on it, along with a lot of other goodies.

As you can tell, this is one of my favorite things to write. I hope you end up getting the books.

https://kriswrites.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/4-Mystery-Novellas-Low-Res.mp4

Polish publisher Vesper has acquired the Polish translation rights to The Providence Rider. Vesper has published Polish translations of ten of Robert McCammon’s novels, so far, including Speaks the Nightbird (2022), The Queen of Bedlam (2023), and Mister Slaughter (2024).

Archangel's Ascension Series: Guild Hunter #17
Published by Penguin on May 6, 2025

New York Times bestselling author Nalini Singh takes us back to her breathtakingly passionate Guild Hunter World, where an impending transformation will be both an ending and a beginning…

Aodhan and Illium. Adi and Blue. Sparkle and Bluebell. Friends become lovers, their future a wild unknown.

Finally reunited in New York, they must now learn to navigate the monumental shift in their relationship. But for these two members of Archangel Raphael’s legendary Seven, there is no time to rest. As they investigate a case for the Tower that echoes the darkness from Aodhan’s past, they will be forced to confront not only the scars that mark them both, but the promise of a vast power that flickers in Illium.

The threat of ascension has haunted and troubled Aodhan’s Blue for too long, the forces of change immutable and without mercy...and uncaring of Illium’s fierce wish to remain part of the Seven. Change is a constant in an immortal’s life, and this new horizon will bring with it both terrible heartbreak and a joy extraordinary enough to reverberate through time…

Pages: 416

Genres: Fiction / Fantasy / Paranormal, Fiction / Fantasy / Urban, Fiction / Romance / Paranormal / Vampires
Format: eARC, eBook
by Nalini Singh
ISBN: 9780593550045



Also in this series: Archangel's Shadows (Guild Hunter, #7), Archangel's Enigma (Guild Hunter, #8), Archangel's Heart (Guild Hunter, #9), Archangel's Viper (Guild Hunter, #10), Archangel's Prophecy, Archangel's War


Also by this author: Shards of Hope, Archangel's Shadows (Guild Hunter, #7), Archangel's Enigma (Guild Hunter, #8), Rock Redemption, Allegiance of Honor (Psy-Changeling, #15), Rock Wedding (Rock Kiss, #4), Secrets at Midnight (Psy-Changeling #12.5)
{ "@context":"https://schema.org", "@type":"Review", "datePublished": "2025-05-06T14:41:12+00:00", "description": "\n\u00a0\n\u00a0\n\u00a0\nThe latest installment in the Guild Hunter Series offers an engaging read, yet it falls short of the high standards typically associated with Nalini Singh. The narrative frequently shif", "publisher": { "@type": "Organization", "name": "Books In Brogan" }, "url": "https:\/\/booksinbrogan.com\/blog\/2025\/05\/06\/archangels-ascension-nalini-singh\/", "itemReviewed": { "@type": "Book", "name": "Archangel's Ascension", "author": { "@type": "Person", "name": "Nalini Singh", "sameAs": "" }, "isbn": "9780593550045" }, "author": { "@type": "Person", "name": "Books In Brogan", "sameAs": "https:\/\/booksinbrogan.com\/" }, "reviewRating": { "@type": "Rating", "ratingValue": false, "bestRating": "5" } }

 

 

 

The latest installment in the Guild Hunter Series offers an engaging read, yet it falls short of the high standards typically associated with Nalini Singh. The narrative frequently shifts between the present and the future, which can be disorienting as it requires readers to recall events from previous books while trying to follow the current storyline. A more cohesive approach that focused solely on the future timeline would have enhanced my enjoyment of the book.

Our beloved older daughter would have been thirty years old today.

Alexis Jordan Berner-Coe. Early on, it felt like a big name for such a tiny child. She was always the smallest in her class, the smallest on her team, the smallest in her dance recitals. We called her Alex. The head counselor at her first summer soccer camp called her “ABC” — for Alex Berner-Coe. The name stuck.

Later we realized that the name was too small to contain her, too simple to encompass all that she was, all that she would grow to be. She might have been the smallest in her class, but she was smart as hell and personable, with a huge, charismatic personality. She might have been the smallest on her teams, but she was fast and savvy and utterly fearless. On the soccer pitch and in the swimming pool, she was fierce and hard-working. Size didn’t matter. She might have been the smallest on stage, but she danced with passion and joy and grace, and, when appropriate, with a smile that blazed like burning magnesium.

One time, in a soccer match against a hated rival, a player from the other team, a huge athlete nearly twice Alex’s size, grew tired of watching Alex’s back as she sped down the touchline on another break. So she fouled Alex. Hard. Slammed into her and sent her tumbling to the ground. I didn’t have time to worry about my kid. Because Alex bounced up while the ref’s whistle was still sounding, and wagged a finger at the girl. “Oh, no you don’t,” that finger-wag said. “You can’t intimidate me.”

When she was in eighth grade, she decided to try out for the annual dance program at the university where Nancy worked. The program was called Perpetual Motion, and it was almost entirely student run. Each dance was choreographed by a student or group of students. They decided who they wanted in their dances and who they didn’t. The men and women in the program could easily have dismissed this thirteen-year-old as too young, too inexperienced, not really a part of the college. But instead, to their credit, they judged her on her dancing and maturity. She appeared in Perpetual Motion every year from eighth grade through twelfth, and we saw pretty much every performance. Not once did Alex ever seem out of place or beyond her depth.

She was effortlessly cool, like her uncle Bill — my oldest brother. And she had a wicked sense of humor. She was brilliant and beautiful. She loved to travel. She loved music and film and literature. She was passionate in her commitment to social justice. She adored her younger sister. And she was without a doubt the most courageous soul I have ever known.

When Alex was three years old, Nancy took a sabbatical semester in Quebec City, at the Université Laval. I stayed in Tennessee, where I was overseeing the construction of what would become our first home. Once Nancy found a place for them to live, I brought Alex up to her and helped the two of them settle in. In part, that meant finding a day-school for Alex so that Nancy could conduct her research. We put her in a Montessori school that seemed very nice, but was entirely French-speaking. The first morning, Alex was in tears, scared of a place she didn’t know, among people she could scarcely understand. But we knew she would love it eventually, and as young parents, we had decided this was best. So we explained to her as best we could that we would be back in a few hours, that the people there would take good care of her, and that this was something we needed for her to do. I will never forget walking away from the school, with tiny Alex standing at the window, tears streaming down her face as she waved goodbye to us. And I remember thinking then, “She is the bravest person I know.” Remember, Alex, all of three years old, didn’t speak a word of French!!

Needless to say, when we returned that afternoon to take her home, she was having the time of her life. She’d already made a bunch of friends. She’d already charmed her two teachers. And, I kid you not, she had already picked up several French phrases, which she spoke with a perfect Quebecois accent.

Her dauntlessness served her well on the pitch and in the pool, on stage and in the classroom. It fed an adventuresome spirit that took her to Costa Rica for a semester in high school, to the top of Mount Rainier with a summer outdoor program, to a successful four years at NYU, to Germany for part of her sophomore year in college, to Spain for all of her junior year in college, and on countless side-trips all over Europe.

And it allowed her to face the cancer that would eventually claim her life with remarkable strength, equanimity, and grace. She knew from the time of her diagnosis — a rare form of cervical cancer already at Stage 4 — that she faced long odds. I know that in private moments, and with her closest friends, she grieved for all that the disease would take from her. But she never allowed cancer to control her. She continued to work, to see friends and family, to travel, to go to movies and concerts and parties. She took classes. While undergoing chemo treatments, she turned her need for headscarves into a fashion statement. She lived her final years on her terms, refusing to wallow in self-pity because to do so would have meant sacrificing the joy for living that defined her.

She was, in short, remarkable. I loved her more than I can possibly say. I also admired her deeply. To this day, I push myself to do things that might make me uncomfortable or afraid by telling myself, “Alex would do it, and she’d want me to do it as well.”

She had twenty-eight and a half years, which wasn’t nearly enough. She did amazing things in that short time and could have done — should have been able to do — so very much more.

I miss her and think about her every minute of every day.

Happy birthday, my darling child. I love you to the moon and back.

Our beloved older daughter would have been thirty years old today.

Alexis Jordan Berner-Coe. Early on, it felt like a big name for such a tiny child. She was always the smallest in her class, the smallest on her team, the smallest in her dance recitals. We called her Alex. The head counselor at her first summer soccer camp called her “ABC” — for Alex Berner-Coe. The name stuck.

Later we realized that the name was too small to contain her, too simple to encompass all that she was, all that she would grow to be. She might have been the smallest in her class, but she was smart as hell and personable, with a huge, charismatic personality. She might have been the smallest on her teams, but she was fast and savvy and utterly fearless. On the soccer pitch and in the swimming pool, she was fierce and hard-working. Size didn’t matter. She might have been the smallest on stage, but she danced with passion and joy and grace, and, when appropriate, with a smile that blazed like burning magnesium.

One time, in a soccer match against a hated rival, a player from the other team, a huge athlete nearly twice Alex’s size, grew tired of watching Alex’s back as she sped down the touchline on another break. So she fouled Alex. Hard. Slammed into her and sent her tumbling to the ground. I didn’t have time to worry about my kid. Because Alex bounced up while the ref’s whistle was still sounding, and wagged a finger at the girl. “Oh, no you don’t,” that finger-wag said. “You can’t intimidate me.”

When she was in eighth grade, she decided to try out for the annual dance program at the university where Nancy worked. The program was called Perpetual Motion, and it was almost entirely student run. Each dance was choreographed by a student or group of students. They decided who they wanted in their dances and who they didn’t. The men and women in the program could easily have dismissed this thirteen-year-old as too young, too inexperienced, not really a part of the college. But instead, to their credit, they judged her on her dancing and maturity. She appeared in Perpetual Motion every year from eighth grade through twelfth, and we saw pretty much every performance. Not once did Alex ever seem out of place or beyond her depth.

She was effortlessly cool, like her uncle Bill — my oldest brother. And she had a wicked sense of humor. She was brilliant and beautiful. She loved to travel. She loved music and film and literature. She was passionate in her commitment to social justice. She adored her younger sister. And she was without a doubt the most courageous soul I have ever known.

When Alex was three years old, Nancy took a sabbatical semester in Quebec City, at the Université Laval. I stayed in Tennessee, where I was overseeing the construction of what would become our first home. Once Nancy found a place for them to live, I brought Alex up to her and helped the two of them settle in. In part, that meant finding a day-school for Alex so that Nancy could conduct her research. We put her in a Montessori school that seemed very nice, but was entirely French-speaking. The first morning, Alex was in tears, scared of a place she didn’t know, among people she could scarcely understand. But we knew she would love it eventually, and as young parents, we had decided this was best. So we explained to her as best we could that we would be back in a few hours, that the people there would take good care of her, and that this was something we needed for her to do. I will never forget walking away from the school, with tiny Alex standing at the window, tears streaming down her face as she waved goodbye to us. And I remember thinking then, “She is the bravest person I know.” Remember, Alex, all of three years old, didn’t speak a word of French!!

Needless to say, when we returned that afternoon to take her home, she was having the time of her life. She’d already made a bunch of friends. She’d already charmed her two teachers. And, I kid you not, she had already picked up several French phrases, which she spoke with a perfect Quebecois accent.

Her dauntlessness served her well on the pitch and in the pool, on stage and in the classroom. It fed an adventuresome spirit that took her to Costa Rica for a semester in high school, to the top of Mount Rainier with a summer outdoor program, to a successful four years at NYU, to Germany for part of her sophomore year in college, to Spain for all of her junior year in college, and on countless side-trips all over Europe.

And it allowed her to face the cancer that would eventually claim her life with remarkable strength, equanimity, and grace. She knew from the time of her diagnosis — a rare form of cervical cancer already at Stage 4 — that she faced long odds. I know that in private moments, and with her closest friends, she grieved for all that the disease would take from her. But she never allowed cancer to control her. She continued to work, to see friends and family, to travel, to go to movies and concerts and parties. She took classes. While undergoing chemo treatments, she turned her need for headscarves into a fashion statement. She lived her final years on her terms, refusing to wallow in self-pity because to do so would have meant sacrificing the joy for living that defined her.

She was, in short, remarkable. I loved her more than I can possibly say. I also admired her deeply. To this day, I push myself to do things that might make me uncomfortable or afraid by telling myself, “Alex would do it, and she’d want me to do it as well.”

She had twenty-eight and a half years, which wasn’t nearly enough. She did amazing things in that short time and could have done — should have been able to do — so very much more.

I miss her and think about her every minute of every day.

Happy birthday, my darling child. I love you to the moon and back.

 

"Thicken Nugget, you evil bitch, stop murdering half the desert," I muttered from behind my camera. As expected, Thicken Nugget ignored my request.

(page 1, I Got Abducted by Aliens and Now I'm Trapped in a Rom-Com by Kimberly Lemming)

---------

Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, previously hosted by MizB of Should Be Reading. Anyone can play along! Just do the following: - Grab your current read - Open to a random page - Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!) - Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their  TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

 

Book links: Amazon, Goodreads
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Raymond St. Elmo is a programmer of artificial intelligences and virtual realities, who has no time for literary fabrications of fictitious characters and world-building. And yes, that was meant to be ironic. 
A degree in Spanish Literature gave him a love of Magic Realism. Programming gave him a job. The job introduced him to artifical intelligence and virtual realities; as close to magic as reality is likely to get outside the covers of a book. And yes, that was meant to be cynical.
The author of several first-person comic-accounts of strange quests for mysterious manuscripts, mysterious girls in cloaks whose face appears SUDDENLY IN THE FLASH OF LIGHTNING. And yes, that was meant to be dramatic.
Publisher: St. Elmo Labs (April 14, 2025) Length: 414 pages Formats: ebook, paperback
Dunstan The Wanderer is an oddball fantasy-romance-adventure that opens in the dusty corners of reality and ends somewhere just shy of Hell. Quite literally. It's the story of a lonely, book-obsessed man whose best friend is an imaginary ten-year-old and whose idea of a good time involves cataloging ancient manuscripts. He’s not unhappy, mind. Dunstan’s the kind of person who lives mostly in his head, buried in books and scrolls, happy to spend quality time with himself. He’s got a quiet life he appreciates. And then, everything changes.
He meets a girl. There's a portal. And then there's Hell.
If you like your fantasy whimsical yet sincere, romantic but not saccharine, this book will scratch the itch. The love it depicts is far from cliche - Dunstan and Kath chase each other across worlds while dodging unhinged gods, interdimensional bureaucracy, and their own madness. Sometimes you'll wonder if they need therapy or an exorcist more. Anyway, it's part love story, part fever dream. The world building has a dreamlike feel. Additionally, grown-up versions of characters chime in from time to time to judge their past selves, and I enjoyed their comments. Basically, it's a fairytale for adults who like footnotes, metafiction, and existential dread seasoned with hope. 
There’s a lot going on. Possibly too much at times. St. Elmo’s writing is sharp, strange, and packed with more clever turns of phrase than strictly necessary. Sometimes you simply have to reread a paragraph five times to figure out what’s happening. But when it hits (and it often does), it really hits. 
There were moments that made me smile, sigh, roll my eyes, but also yawn. Dunstan himself is a charming protagonist, the kind of introvert who retreats into books not out of misery but out of contentment. Watching him get dragged - emotionally and literally - out of his comfort zone is part of the book’s appeal.
This is the third installment in the Wanderers series, but it works perfectly well as a standalone. Fans of the previous books will enjoy seeing familiar characters return, though newcomers can jump in here and still catch the full ride to the gates of hell and back. Bonus points for acknowledging that love isn’t just star-crossed passion - it’s arguing over groceries, garden pests, and who gets the last word.
Smart, strange, and romantic in the most chaotic way. A bit wordy, yes, but well worth the detour through the Inferno.

Good afterevenmorn, Readers!

I have been out of the writing world loop for a bit, being wrapped up in my own personal stuff (it’s a terrible combination of absolutely no time whatsoever, “out of sight, out of mind,” and having my head in the clouds as I’m neck deep in the first draft of a book), so I’m quite late to the party. Apparently, World Con has once again landed itself in some controversy.

Let me fill you in if you are like I was just two days ago; utterly clueless about it all.

Image by Robert Fotograf from Pixabay

It appears that Worldcon 2025, which will be held in August in the fine city of Seattle, used an LLM (Language Learning Model; specifically Chat GPT) in order to vet panelists for their programming. This created quite the furor. You can read more about it in the File 770 article that covers most of it. Gizmodo also had an article about it. It’s understandable, really. There’s a lot of bad blood between creatives and the “tech bros” who stole their creations in order to train their LLMs.

I understand the impulse to use AI in order to do this, especially for a convention as huge as Worldcon. I do not volunteer for any conventions. I have no idea the amount of work involved in getting one together, but I can imagine. I expect that a good portion of manpower is devoted to vetting possible panelists and then matching them to a panel where they would be the best fit for that particular topic.

AI would likely be a godsend in cutting down the hours required to do it all. Or it would be, if there weren’t so many issues with it.

Image by Dmitriy from Pixabay

It’s not even about stolen creations or jobs. What was taken in this case was volunteer hours. Is that better or worse? Not sure. There was one mention of why it’s not so great, and that while it might be a lot of work, it is good work, and can be a lot of fun. I cannot speak to that. But as an intention, that doesn’t seem bad to me.

At the most basic, practical level, without regard to ethics at all, LLMs are not great for vetting things. The examples of AI hallucinating are abound, and sometimes they flat out lie, or make things up and present them as facts though they don’t even exist. Wasn’t there some recent furor over an LLM citing supporting case law… by references cases that simply did not exist. The machine just… made them up. AI is constantly ascribing nonsensical things to people who had nothing to do with them, or making up answers to clearly nonsensical questions (specifically designed to prove just how unreliable the application is).

There is also the issue of the inherent bias in the data sets that is the internet. In short, the internet is a horribly bigoted place, and any LLM that gleaned its dataset from the internet is proven to be racist as all get-out.

Everything else does.

A real firestorm

Practically, it doesn’t seem great, given all the problems with AI at present (granted, as the technology improves, that will be less and less an issue). Ethically, it’s an absolute stinker.

The environmental toll of using AI is absolutely horrific. The energy and water requirements for keeping these things running as appalling. Anyone who cares remotely about the environment should have serious concerns about using it just on that alone. If all you care about is the environment, then any AI use is an absolute no-go.

Then there’s the issue of the principals. The attendees of this convention are the very kinds of people who had their creativity stolen in order to teach these LLMs. Using the exact application that thieved from the very people in attendance was probably not a great move. It’s quite a slap to the face, if you think about it. Many of those very people, based on these grounds alone, feel very strongly that there is absolutely no ethical argument for using AI.

It will not surprise anyone that I’m kinda on their side; both on the personal and environmental issues. I don’t think there can be any ethical reason to use AI. The time it might save doesn’t offset the other considerations here.

Easy for me to say, I know. I’m not trying to organize one of the biggest SFF conventions in the world. I just think that using AI was a stumble and can’t really be justified. At least, not to me.

Thankfully unaffected this time.

It’s become such an issue for Worldcon 2025 that three people have resigned from the board, and one author has withdrawn their books from award consideration (Yoon Ha Lee was in the running for the Lodestone Award, and withdrew following this mess). This, despite assurances that AI went nowhere near the Hugo Awards. Thankfully. I can’t imagine the mess if it had.

Honestly, in terms of controversies attached to Worldcon, this is the least aggravating for me personally. I am not in the running for a Hugo (could you imagine?), and I’m not attending Worldcon this year… or any convention in the US for the next few years. This is not the Sick Puppies, or Sick Puppies adjacent. The awards themselves appear to have maintained their integrity this year. My absolute dislike of LLMs on principal makes me dislike this situation intensely, but it’s not the worst thing that has happened to and with World Con.

Thank goodness. I don’t think my blood pressure could handle anything more egregious.

When S.M. Carrière isn’t brutally killing your favorite characters, she spends her time teaching martial arts, live streaming video games, and cuddling her cat. In other words, she spends her time teaching others to kill, streaming her digital kills, and a cuddling furry murderer. Her most recent titles include Daughters of Britain, Skylark and Human. Her serial The New Haven Incident is free and goes up every Friday on her blog.

Alien invasion stories are often the sole purvey… or rather primarily categorized in the science fiction section of your bookstores and libraries. When you think about them for a moment, they really can be considered horror stories as well. You’ve got the sense of a large force threatening your life (and the entire planet for…