Monday has once again rolled around and as usually I’m unprepared for the week that is upon me. Work has picked up like crazy in the last week or two, and on the social front I was fortunate enough to attend Allen & Unwin’s #YAFanFest showcase last Thursday night. As usual, Allen & Unwin put on an amazing show and I’m hoping to have a wrap up post up in the next week or so.
As far as reading goes, I’m on the homestretch of Corpselight by Angela Slatter and all set to be part of Hachette’s blog tour later this week. It’s been a while since I read anything strictly fantasy based and I’m rather enjoying this series so far.
‘Simply put: Slatter can write! Beautifully, stylishly, accurately. She forces us to recognise the monsters that are ourselves’ – Jack Dann, award-winning author.
Sequel to VIGIL, this fast-paced urban fantasy is perfect for fans of Harry Dresden and Kinsey Malhone.
Life in Brisbane is never simple for those who walk between the worlds.
Verity’s all about protecting her city, but right now that’s mostly running surveillance and handling the less exciting cases for the Weyrd Council – after all, it’s hard to chase the bad guys through the streets of Brisbane when you’re really, really pregnant.
An insurance investigation sounds pretty harmless, even if it is for ‘Unusual Happenstance’. That’s not usually a clause Normals use – it covers all-purpose hauntings, angry genii loci, ectoplasmic home invasion, demonic possession, that sort of thing – but Susan Beckett’s claimed three times in three months. Her house keeps getting inundated with mud, but she’s still insisting she doesn’t need or want help . . . until the dry-land drownings begin.
V’s first lead takes her to Chinatown, where she is confronted by kitsune assassins. But when she suddenly goes into labour, it’s clear the fox spirits are not going to be helpful . . .
Corpselight is the sequel to Vigil and the second book in the Verity Fassbinder series by award-winning author Angela Slatter.
hoping TO read:
Foster suddenly recognised the feeling that rolled over him and made him feel sick. It was this: Dad was going away somewhere all on his own. And Foster was already missing him.
Foster Sumner is seven years old. He likes toy soldiers, tadpole hunting, going to school and the beach. Best of all, he likes listening to his dad’s stories.
But then Foster’s dad starts forgetting things. No one is too worried at first. Foster and Dad giggle about it. But the forgetting gets worse. And suddenly no one is laughing anymore.
A heartbreaking story about what it means to forget and to be forgotten.
Last week on the blog: