The eponymous hero of The Red Knight by Miles Cameron is the leader of a mercenary army that’s just returning to Alba after fighting a campaign abroad. His identity and even his real name are a mystery to most: there are hints throughout the novel, and eventually you’ll have a good idea of who he is, but for the most part he simply goes by “Red Knight” or “Captain” and deflects any questions about his origins.
He and his company are now on their way to Lissen Carak, the site of an ancient and heavily fortified convent whose surrounding farms have recently been subjected to attacks by a creature from the Wild. The Abbess, unable to secure protection from the distant King’s court, hires the Red Knight’s company to root out the source of the attacks. Little do either the Abbess or the Red Knight know that this engagement will turn out to be much longer, bloodier, and more important than they originally bargained for—not only to the convent but to the entire realm...










Sister Maryam lives on Onewēre, a small island in the Pacific chosen by the Apostles of the Lamb after the Tribulation destroyed life on Earth as we know it. The people of Onewēre lead their lives according to the religion of the Apostles and unquestioningly follow their Rules. Part of this means that indigenous girls entering womanhood are sometimes chosen to live in the Star of the Sea, the Holy City that’s located on a huge ship stranded nearby, where they are allowed to serve the Apostles directly. When young Sister Maryam finally makes the crossing, she quickly learns that life in the Holy City is very different from what she expected, and the beliefs she has held all her life are shaken to the core.







Has it really been 25 years since Consider Phlebas, the first novel in Iain M. Banks’ Culture series, came out? My goodness. Does this make anyone else feel old at all? Not to worry though: a new novel in this stunning series is always cause for celebration, and in this case doubly so, given that this book is the tenth in the series according to Orbit (including the short story collection The State of the Art, which contains some Culture-related pieces) and marks a quarter century of Culture novels.




Earlier this year, Chuck Wendig’s Blackbirds took me completely by surprise. Initially attracted by Joey Hi-Fi’s gorgeous cover illustration, I was quickly sucked into the story of Miriam Black, an opportunistic young drifter whose unique curse/gift allows her to see the exact time and circumstances of the deaths of the people she touches. She mainly uses this mysterious skill to loot the occasional bit of cash from the soon-to-be-deceased, allowing her to stay in motels and keep enough booze on hand to numb her many personal demons... until one day she sees one particularly gruesome future death scene in which the victim’s last words are her own name.
I read my first Jonathan Carroll novel shortly after discovering Graham Joyce. I’d read everything Joyce had written up to that point and was desperate for more. The top recommendation I kept hearing at that time was Jonathan Carroll, probably because there’s a certain similarity between the two writers: they both write fiction set in our contemporary reality with relatively small added fantasy elements. You can call this magical realism, but Joyce disagrees with this classification—he prefers the wonderful term “Old Peculiar” to describe his fiction—and I’m not sure if Jonathan Carroll is completely happy with it either. Still, it does seem to fit the bill somewhat and provides a good point of reference for people who are unfamiliar with them.


















