I don’t think it’s a surprise to anyone that Ursula Vernon (aka T. Kingfisher) tends to float to the top of my “to be read” pile.
Nettle and Bone, her latest book, is a one-off, but of a different sort than others. It’s not the retelling of an existing fairy tale like Bryony and Roses, The Seventh Bride,or The Raven and the Reindeer. It’s not a coming-of-age story like Minor Mage or A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking. And it isn’t set in the Clockwork universe of her Paladin books.
Oh, and it’s not one of her super-creepy horror novels, although it does have the occasional creepy point.
It’s a new fairy tale, a story of a woman who discovers her pregnant sister is being abused — and decides her sister’s husband has to go. This is complicated by the fact that he’s the prince of the neighboring country and, in multiple ways, significantly more powerful than she is.
Where there’s a will, there’s a way, even when it involves doing impossible things. One just needs to collect a hodgepodge of new friends, build a pet, and learn how politics work.
This book has cemented its place on my “favorite books” list.
What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher (aka Ursula Vernon) is a creepy as hell retelling of the “Fall of the House of Usher”. I knew it was going to get bad when there were no bodies by the end of chapter 3 because T. Kingfisher’s got a reputation for having someone dead even in her “fluffy romances” and hooooo this didn’t disappoint. Never looking at lungs the same way again. holy hell.
My brain’s just running around now yelling NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE.
A must read.
I don’t know why Paladin’s Strength made me more anxious than the others — maybe it was the hard position Clara was in, or maybe it was just the pandemic. But I loved it even as it made me sad, and happy.
And oh god the rabbits. Freaked me the hell out.
Paladin’s Hope was a wonderful romp of romance and body count. And monsters, the worst of which is as usual a human being. And a forensic pathologist from before they were forensic pathologist. And special powers and gods and of course the Temple of the White Rat.
I look forward to the next.
I’m not saying that The Hollow Places by T. Kingfisher (aka Ursula Vernon) was scary. I am saying I read it in the bath and there’s now big blue hair dye spots on the wall where my skull was pressing against it because apparently my brain was trying to crawl away from the book.
Don’t read it if you’re remodeling. Jesus.