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Child of Fire: A Twenty Palaces Novel Mass Market Paperback – September 29, 2009
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Unfortunately for both of them, Annalise's next mission goes wrong, leaving her critically injured. With the little magic he controls, Ray must complete her assignment alone. Not only does he have to stop a sorcerer who's sacrificing dozens of innocent lives in exchange for supernatural power, he must find-and destroy-the source of that inhuman magic.
Child of Fire was named to Publishers Weekly's list of Best 100 Books of 2009.
- Print length368 pages
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherDel Rey
- Publication dateSeptember 29, 2009
- Dimensions4.16 x 1.01 x 6.88 inches
- ISBN-100345508890
- ISBN-13978-0345508898
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Editorial Reviews
From Publishers Weekly
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Review
"Ray Lilly is one of the most interesting characters I've read lately, and Harry Connolly's vision is amazing. I can hardly wait for the next one." --Charlaine Harris, author of the Sookie Stackhouse series
“Cinematic and vivid, with a provocative glimpse into a larger world. Where’s the next one?”—Terry Rossio, screenwriter, Pirates of the Caribbean trilogy
“Classic dark noir, fresh ideas, and good old-fashioned storytelling.”—John Levitt, author of Dog Days
“Redemption comes wrapped in a package of mystery and horror that hammers home the old saying ‘Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time’ . . . and even then you’d better check the yellow pages for one bad-ass exterminator first.”—Rob Thurman, author of Nightlife
“A fine novel with some genuinely creepy moments. I enjoyed it immensely and hope we’ll see more of Ray Lilly.”—Lawrence Watt-Evans, author of the Obsidian Chronicles
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
It felt good to sit behind the wheel again, even the wheel of a battered Dodge Sprinter. Even with this passenger beside me.
The van rumbled like a garbage truck, handled like a refrigerator box, and needed a full minute to reach highway speeds. I’d driven better, but I’m a guy who has to take what I can get while I’m still alive to get it.
The passenger beside me was Annalise Powliss. She stood about five foot nothing, was as thin as a mop handle, and was covered with tattoos from the neck down.
Her hair was the same dark red as the circled F’s I used to get on my book reports, and she wore it cropped close to her scalp. It was an ugly cut, but she never seemed to care how she looked. I suspected she cut it herself.
She was my boss, and she had been forbidden to kill me, although that’s what she most wanted to do. “Where are we going?” I asked for the fourth time. She didn’t answer. She wasn’t talking to me except to tell me where to drive. To be honest, I didn’t blame her. She had good reason to hate me.
At the moment, though, she and I had a job to do and all I knew about it was this: Annalise was on her way to kill someone. Maybe several someones. I was supposed to help.
Because she wouldn’t talk to me, I was not entirely clear who had ordered her not to kill me or why they would bother. I was just the driver, and I didn’t even know where we were going.
“Quarter tank,” I said as we approached a gas station. I hated to drive on less than a half tank of gas, but so far the boss had refused to let me fill up. Since she had the money, the title, and the physical strength to tear my arm off, she made the decisions.
She glanced down at the scrap of wood in her hand— unpainted and unfinished except for the twisted nonsense shape made of several colors on one side— and said nothing. I stifled my irritation and drove past the pumps.
We were westbound somewhere on the Olympic Peninsula. There were no other cars on the road. The streets were slick with misting rain, and the sky was growing dark as eve ning approached. After my years in Southern California, I’d forgotten how long it could take for night to fall in this part of the world.
The road was one of those rural highways with one lane in each direction and a speed limit of fifty- five. I was staying below the limit because the van, with its balding tires, whining brakes, and load of equipment in the back, wasn’t equipped for the twists and turns of backwoods driving.
I was enjoying the drive anyway. I had a key to the door and I could see the sky. It felt good to be a free man again.
Up ahead, I saw a big cedar right up close to the road. Annalise was not wearing her seat belt. I was wearing mine. The speedometer on the Sprinter shuddered at the fifty- miles- per-hour mark. All I had to do was swerve. She and her little scrap of lumber would fly through the windshield and slam against the tree, while I would be safe in the arms of the shoulder harness and air bag.
I didn’t try it. It wasn’t just the motorcycle Annalise kept on flimsy mounts in the cargo area behind me. In truth, I doubted that slamming face- first into a tree trunk would do more than muss her thrift- shop clothes. And piss her off. She’d survived worse. I’d seen it.
I was pretty sure Annalise wasn’t a human being. She had been, once, I thought, but I wasn’t sure what she was now.
A Volvo station wagon with luggage strapped to the roof drove eastbound toward us. As it passed, the painted scrap wood in Annalise’s hand flashed like a camera flashbulb. The design painted on the face of the wood began to twist like a nest full of snakes.
Annalise lunged toward me. “Turn around!” she yelled. She had a high, funny voice more suited to a cartoon squirrel than a grown woman. “Turn around and follow that station wagon!”
I was already doing it. I hit the brakes and twisted the wheel, letting the clumsy van fishtail as much as I dared. I heard crashing noises from behind me as Annalise’s things toppled over. We came to a rest, and I threw it in reverse.
“Let’s go! Goddammit, hurry up!”
“Keep your shirt on.”
I backed up onto the shoulder, swung the wheel all the way around, and stomped on the gas. We crept after the station wagon.
“Goddammit, Ray,” Annalise growled. She was very close to my ear, and I could hear the hate in her voice. “If you let them get away, I’m going to tear you apart.”
“Oh yeah? Who are you going to find who can reach the gas pedal?” I said. My voice betrayed too much fear. When Annalise threatened to tear someone apart, she meant it literally. “This is your broken- down van. If we don’t catch them, you can blame yourself for not buying better wheels.”
She settled back into her seat and glared through the windshield at the empty road ahead.
I forced myself to smile at her. “Isn’t this nice? Our first job together and we’re getting along so well.” It was stupid and dangerous to taunt her, but I was afraid of her and I hated to show my fear.
She ignored me, for which I was secretly grateful. We picked up speed, rounding curves and topping hills the van could barely handle. Night was coming and the forest around us was filling with shadows. I switched on the headlights, but Annalise snarled at me to turn them off.
A red light flashed from between the trees on the right. I slowed. Annalise started to protest, but I shushed her. She didn’t look pleased about that.
We came to a break in the forest— a gravel parking lot with a row of abandoned wooden stalls at the back. It looked like it had once been a roadside farmer’s stand. The station wagon was parked at the far end, red brake lights glowing.
I parked a couple of car lengths away from the vehicle and jumped from the van as quickly as I could. Annalise was a little faster. She walked toward them, holding the fist- sized scrap of wood in her hand like a Geiger counter. The design on it writhed wildly; something about the car or the people in it was setting it off.
All the wagon’s side doors stood open. A man and woman had their head and shoulders in the back doors, and they were working frantically at something. I checked their stuff. Among the things strapped to their roof was a vacuum cleaner in a clear plastic trash bag beaded with rain. These people weren’t on a camping trip. They were skipping town.
All I could see of the man was a pair of extra- wide Dockers and the pale skin that peeked above his sagging waistband. Office worker, I thought. He must have heard us approach, but he didn’t turn to look at us. Was he completely engrossed, or did he have a weak survival instinct? Out of unshakable habit, my next thought was: Victim.
No, no. I pushed the thought away. That was not part of my life anymore.
From what I could see through the car windows, the woman was also wider than strictly necessary and also dressed for casual day at the office. They continued to struggle with something in the backseat.
I felt a pressure against my chest, just below my right collarbone. Strange. I tried to ignore it and said, “Do you folks need any help?”
The woman glanced up, noticing us for the first time. She had a terrified look on her face, but I knew it had nothing to do with Annalise or me. Her husband glanced back as he came out of the backseat. His glasses were smeary from the drizzle. “No,” he said too quickly.
“We’re fine.”
The pressure against my chest increased.
Then their little boy climbed out of the car.
He was a good- looking kid, maybe eight or nine years old, although I’m no judge. His hair stuck up in the back, and he had scrapes on both elbows. “I feel funny, Dad,” he said. He laid his hands on his chest and pressed. “I feel squishy.”
Flames erupted around his head.
I felt light- headed suddenly, and the pressure against my chest vanished. Before I could think about it, I ran toward them, stripping off my jacket.
The woman screamed. The flames around the boy’s head spread downward past his crotch. In an instant, his whole body was ablaze.
The father fumbled for a jacket draped over the driver’s seat. I heard Annalise’s footsteps behind me.
“Wow!” the boy said. “It doesn’t hurt, Daddy. It doesn’t hurt at all.”
The father lunged at his boy with the jacket, knocking him to the gravel, then beating at the flames. I got there a half second later and slapped my jacket over the boy’s face and head.
Rain steamed off the burning body. Beside me, the father made a noise like a strangled dog. I tried not to think about that. I tried not to notice the black scorch marks where the flames touched the ground. I tried not to think about what was happening. I just worked at the flames. I slapped at them, smothered them, wrapped them in my jacket.
It was no good. The fire flared up and my jacket erupted in flames. I threw it aside and started to drag my shirt over my head.
The kid laughed as though we were tickling him. Then his skin turned silver- gray and his whole head came apart.
The flames roared. A wave of heat forced me back. The father rolled back onto his padded behind, almost bowling over his wife as she rushed around the car toward us. I let my backward momentum roll me onto my feet.
Annalise stood nearby. She had unbuttoned the fireman’s jacket she always wore, revealing colored ribbons alligator- clipped to her clothes. She pulled a green one free. The small sigil drawn on the bottom glowed with silvery light.
I turned back to the family. The boy’s head, arms, and chest had come apart and been transformed into a mass of fat, wriggling, silver- gray worms, each about the size of my pinkie. Then his stomach came apart, then his hips.
It happened so fast I had no chance to think about it. I saw the worms twisting themselves against the packed gravel, trying to burrow into the earth. They swarmed over one another, heading west. Everything they touched turned black with scorched, greasy soot.
I felt a tightness in my throat that might have been the urge to vomit, but there was nothing to bring up. I was completely hollow inside.
The father struggled to his feet, and his wife tried to move around him to her son. The expression on her face told me she already knew the truth, already knew her son was gone, but she could no more stay away from his disintegrating body than she could leap up into the clouds.
I tackled them. My shoulder sank into the father’s broad, soft belly, and I grabbed the mother around the waist. With all my strength, I pushed them away from the car.
I didn’t look back at Annalise. I didn’t have to. I knew very well what those green ribbons did and how little she cared about collateral damage.
The father and mother stumbled backward and fell over each other, hitting the gravel hard. I landed on their legs. I heard a whoosh of fire behind me. Annalise’s green ribbon had hit its target. I glanced back and saw flames, green ones this time, roar up around the wriggling mass that had once been a boy’s body. Where the flames touched them, the gray worms burst apart.
The sphere of green fire expanded. I pulled in my legs, trying to get away, but I was too late. The cold green fire washed over me.
I sucked in a lungful of air to scream my life away. It was too soon. Too soon. I looked down at my legs, expecting them to burn away to blackened, smoking bones.
It didn’t happen. There was no pain, no damage to my legs, nothing. My clothes didn’t even burn. I felt nothing more than a slight pressure below my collarbone— a place the flames did not even reach.
The flames receded. I was undamaged. So were the parents. I had pushed them out of range just in time. The worms had not fared so well. There was nothing left of them but gray slime.
“Holy God,” the mother said, her voice thin and strained. Her face was slack and her eyes were glassy. If I hadn’t pushed her away, she would have been killed along with her son— another person struck down for no other reason than she was next to someone Annalise wanted to kill.
Annalise took another ribbon from beneath her jacket. This one was blue. I had no idea what the blue ones did, but I knew it wouldn’t be good.
Before she could use it, a force passed through me. It wasn’t a physical push. It struck my mind, my consciousness, what ever you want to call it, and it felt as though I was standing in heavy surf. It almost toppled me.
At the same moment, I felt a twinge high on the right side of my chest again.
Annalise staggered and winced; her blue ribbon fell from her hand. She felt it, too. The mother and father didn’t stagger. Their expressions went blank.
Then it was gone.
The couple stood and began to straighten their clothes. “You didn’t have to knock me over,” the man said. “I was only trying to help.”
“What?”
“We pulled over to help— oh, forget it.” He slapped at the dust on his pants.
His wife clutched at his shirt and looked at me worriedly. “Douglas, let’s just go.”
They started walking toward the car, glancing back at me as if I was a stray dog that might bite.
They did not look the least bit upset by what had just happened to their son.
After they got into their car and slammed the doors, Douglas started the engine. His wife leaned into the backseat and fussed with a baby sleeping in an infant seat. I hadn’t noticed the baby until then. Douglas turned on the music. Bobby McFerrin. Gravel crunched under the tires as they began to drive away, as though they were leaving behind nothing more important than some old fast- food wrappers.
Annalise charged past me, lowered her shoulder, and slammed into the car’s front panel, just above the wheel. Her legs pumped. The fender crumpled and the car slid sideways like a tackling dummy until it tipped into a ditch. She stood and straightened her jacket, a scowl on her delicate little face. I had seen her strength before, of course. She could have flipped the car onto its roof or torn the door off and pinched off Douglas’s head. I assumed the only reason she hadn’t done either was that she hadn’t finished with them yet.
Product details
- Publisher : Del Rey; Original edition (September 29, 2009)
- Language : English
- Mass Market Paperback : 368 pages
- ISBN-10 : 0345508890
- ISBN-13 : 978-0345508898
- Item Weight : 6.4 ounces
- Dimensions : 4.16 x 1.01 x 6.88 inches
- Best Sellers Rank: #1,502,447 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
- #3,458 in Assassination Thrillers (Books)
- #12,238 in Supernatural Thrillers (Books)
- #39,403 in Paranormal & Urban Fantasy (Books)
- Customer Reviews:
About the author

Child of Fire, Harry Connolly's debut novel and the first in The Twenty Palaces series, was named to Publishers Weekly's Best 100 Novels of 2009. The sequel, Game of Cages, was released in 2010 and the third book, Circle of Enemies, came out in the fall of 2011.
Subsequent releases include the apocalyptic epic fantasy trilogy The Great Way, the pacifist urban fantasy A Key, an Egg, an Unfortunate Remark, and the 30's pulp adventure game tie-in King Khan.
Harry lives in Seattle with his beloved wife, his beloved son, and his beloved library system. You can find him online at: http://www.harryjconnolly.com
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The thing that surprises me the most about "Child of Fire" is that, on paper, it should not be the type of book I enjoy.
I'm not a big fan of horror in general, and Lovecraftian horror in particular, that subgenre of horror which deals with the insignificance of humanity in the face of unknowable cosmic entities. There are a lot of well-written Lovecraftian tales out there, but I'm simply not the target audience, given my taste for stories that focus on human agency, on people and their choices. (That and I'm a scaredy-cat.) However, while "Child of Fire" borrows liberally from aspects of Lovecraftian horror, with creatures and scenes which I found to be viscerally disturbing, it also allows the actions of human beings to matter, and allows them to push back against the darkness.
=Humanity and Black Humor=
It's the human element that really drew me into "Child of Fire". The protagonist, Ray Lilly, has a blunt sort of charm (which makes him an engaging viewpoint character), and manages to be extraordinarily capable at what he does, without being overpowered. Unlike other stories, where the tendency is to make the protagonist the demigod of kick-ass, Ray isn't some sort of prodigy-of-all-trades. In fact, in the magical world he is one of the lowest of the low: he has no formal training, and knows a grand total of one offensive spell-and while he uses that spell with admirable creativity, he always seems outmatched... a good place for a hero to be.
Of course, the fact that his partner Annalise is the magical equivalent of a Terminator (mixed with a little Monkey D. Luffy) helps keep Ray's abilities in perspective. The dynamic between Ray and Annalise is simply a joy to read, their mutual dislike (an understatement in the case of Annalise) ensuring that even simple conversations between the two crackle with both tension and a dark humor that is cathartic in an otherwise grim book:
I said: "Sorry I didn't get killed."
"There's always next time," she said.
The relationship between the two characters grows organically throughout the novel, but never completely overcomes that initial distrust. Considering the reason for their strained relationship, and the nature of Annalise's mission, that's a good thing. After all, nothing broken is ever truly the same afterward, no matter how good the fix.
=The Intrusion Formula=
While the characters are the heart of the novel, and the reason why I enjoyed it so much the first time I read it, what I grew to appreciate in subsequent readings is the way that Connolly manages to both hew to and eschew a tried and tested fantasy formula. Now, I'm going to get a bit technical from here on out, but I know that many Faction readers are also writers, and I want to talk about why I find Connolly's structure of the novel to be so intriguing.
"Child of Fire" is, to borrow terminology from Farah Mendlesohn's "Rhetorics of Fantasy" (a well to which I'll often return), an "intrusion" fantasy. Here, the fantastic is seen as a "bringer of chaos", intruding into a "normal" world of order and predictability. In the intrusion fantasy, the Other must be investigated and repulsed, and it's a type of story often found in Urban Fantasy. The prevalence of the intrusion fantasies in the subgenre is one of the reasons, I think, that many Urban Fantasies seem so similar to each other... all the more so because the intrusion fantasy is so difficult to subvert. For an intrusion fantasy to work, you need to have both "latency" (that sense of something horrible waiting just beyond our field of vision) and "escalation" (that gradual but inevitable increase in the scope of the horror), and there don't seem to be that many techniques that an author can use to achieve those effects.
On one hand, "Child of Fire" sticks to the intrusion formula: Ray and Annalise are practically the only ones who see that something rotten is happening in Hammer Bay; there's an emphasis on the authenticity of what one senses as opposed to what one knows (Ray is alerted to magical attacks not by any special knowledge, but by the feel of the spells tattooed on his body); and, of course, the main intruding "Other" is not revealed until the end of the story. Now, don't get me wrong-adhering to genre conventions can be a good thing: one of the reasons we're genre fans is that we enjoy seeing what authors can do to push a genre's tropes to the next level. Connolly doesn't disappoint: for instance, it's common in Intrusion fantasies for the protagonist to also, in some way, be an "intruder" (someone outside the norm), but Connolly heightens that feeling, as Rey isn't only an intruder in Hammer Bay-he's also treated as a pariah by his ostensible ally, Annalise, whose distrust of him serves to keep him ignorant of (and thus a stranger to) the world of magic. Connolly then adds another layer: Ray unconsciously seems to relish this role as intruder. There's a "throwaway" line early on in the novel that I didn't really notice the first time I read the book. Ray breaks into someone's house and thinks: "There's a feeling of power that comes from invading someone's space." That line not only gives us insight into Rey's character, but also, without the reader realizing it, helps contextualize the incursions of the Predators, and in this way subtly links both protagonist and antagonist. It's these little things that add depth to a story.
=New Paths to Horror=
But Connolly's writing impresses me the most when he strays beyond the bounds of an intrusion fantasy and still manages to create a cohesive story. For instance, intrusion fantasies usually start slow and quiet, then build to a crescendo. Not this one. The first chapter of the book is a mish-mash of horror and confusion, and since Rey has no idea what is going on, neither does the reader. What follows, instead of a linear escalation of conflict (with enemies getting stronger due to quality/quantity), is something more akin to a roller coaster ride, with Rey going from massive supernatural peril to facing a group of toughs in an alley... and yet it doesn't feel like Rey is in any less danger because, as I mentioned, Connolly does such a good job making Rey both capable and vulnerable. The result is that you never quite know what to expect-the most mundane situations can turn apocalyptic in a heartbeat, while on the other hand, powder kegs of coiled tension simply do not go off. Well, at least not until the end, where everything that can go "boom" does, in fact, go "boom".
Connolly also approaches the creation of latency in a different fashion. Instead of keeping what is going on in Hammer Bay a secret, then slowly dealing out more and more information to increase the feeling that something is wrong, Connolly gives you the "what" in the first two chapters, and you know from that point that the entire town has been damned. It's the "why" and the "how" of the horrors that Connolly plays close to the chest.
=Bottom Line=
"Child of Fire" isn't for everyone: it deals with gruesome deaths, often of children; magic is intentionally shrouded in mystery and likely not systematized; and by the time the Big Bad makes its appearance, it inevitably cannot live up to our mental image of the type of creature that can cause such horrors. But that last is a characteristic of intrusion fantasies (the unknown is always more terrifying than the known), and the rest is more a function of story design as opposed to story quality. The bottom line is, if you want a grim urban fantasy with a sympathetic underdog as a main character, if you want a story where Nameless Horrors are not above getting their asses (symbolically) kicked, then this novel is for you.
He gets overwhelmed, confused, doesn't know things, gets hurt, and still tries.
The prose is conversational and moves well. You won't find any great philosophical statements or mind blowing depth, and that's okay, not every novel needs to be a masterpiece of brilliance.
I do hope further novels reveal more about this world and it's magical rules, but I'm okay with this character being kept in the dark for his first adventure.
I also found the lack of romantic interest and sex scenes refreshing. Don't get me wrong, I like a good relationship and a hot scene (Stacia Kane does this beautifully), but the insta attraction gets old. And nothing is more annoying than a razor thin plot where a book is drowning in really boring, repetitive sex (looking at you, Laurel K. Hamilton).
Anyhow. This is a great little adventure, albeit with too many tertiary characters who become hard to tell apart, but that works for the MCs POV.
Give it a go.
From the first paragraph, we get a fascinating relationship between Ray (the POV character) and Annalise. She wants to kill him but isn't allowed to. A back story why she hates him is hinted at without being explained (it's covered in the prequel, Twenty Palaces, though I'd recommend reading Child of Fire first). They are two of the most interesting characters I've read in awhile, and their evolving relationship is a big part of that..
Which brings me to how exposition is handled in this book (and throughout the series). There are no info dumps. Things get shown as they occur and conversations that give details are always in character and make sense. There's never a sense of details being explained for the reader's benefit alone. Even though Ray is pretty new to the supernatural, he never gets a Supernatural 101 course (in part because Annalise, the Peer he works for, hates him and partly because his role is to be expendable cannon fodder and he's expected to die soon anyway).
Speaking of dying, this is a dark setting. Innocents die, including children. Ray is the first-person POV character, so you're pretty sure he won't die. No one else feels safe. The supernatural world is dark, dangerous, and frightening. Magic is frightening. And the mundane world and characters are done in noir tones.
Speaking of the magic, this is hands-down my favorite magic in any book series I've ever read. Like I mentioned above, details are given out sparingly, so the details are magic are peeled back layer by layer throughout the series. (I've heard others complain that it's explained too slowly -- I don't agree, but I'll mention that in case it's something that bothers you.)
There are also consequences of magic and of violence. Ray and Annalise use violence. Ray tries to avoid it, but by the end he kills people. And he pays for it. Even though it's the right thing to do, he doesn't get a pass. It affects him (and that is carried through in the next book, Game of Cages).
The Twenty Palaces Society are the organization that Annalise and Ray (though he knows almost nothing about it) belong to. They're arguably the "good guys". They're also sociopathic killers. As you watch the toll the fighting the monsters takes on Ray, you start to get an idea of why they're like that. Annalise (in her her rare revealing moments) gives even more insight to the choices they make and the costs. But despite giving you glimpses of understanding into the Twenty Palaces Society, the books never let you settle comfortably into thinking of them as the good guys. They're not.
Another thing that I really appreciated, though I'm sure not everyone shares my opinion, is that there isn't romance. I'm not opposed to romance in principle, but it's so common it usually feels obligatory.
I love this series. It's one of my favorites. However, I don't recommend it to everyone I know. I have to think whether I think they'll like it. If I think they will, I gush about it and tell them they have to read it. But there are plenty of people (including my wife) that I haven't recommended to read it. The main reason is that it is very dark.
One other thing I want to mention is that the series isn't finished and probably never will be. There are four books in the series: The first three books (starting with Child of Fire), plus a prequel (Twenty Palaces). There's also a short story. But (with the possible exception of more short stories) that's probably all there will be. The series is officially cancelled.
Harry Connolly wrote a long blog post about why the series was cancelled that you can find online, but the short version is that sales weren't that great and each book had less sales than the book before. The fans of the series (like me) are very enthusiastic, but for a full-time author, he needs to focus on finding more readers. I, for one, am very disappointed we won't see more (especially since the last books hints at what would have come next). I mentioned how much I liked the slow reveal of information, but that also means there's so much that's only been hinted at so far that I really want to know. However, I understand his reasons and support him. I understand that knowing it isn't finished will be a turn-off for many people, but I heartily recommend reading them anyway. Each book is a self-contained story and while you'll be left wanting more, you get four great complete novels and a short story.
Top reviews from other countries
This is a chaotic book that just drops you right into the action. Much of the book reminds me of the sorts of 1980s movies in which Schwarzenegger (or whoever) gets put into a position in which huge numbers of forgettable henchmen show up for reasons not worth committing to memory, then our hero has to fight his way out, then another crisis asserts itself, then our hero has to fight his way through them again. Human life is not the most valued commodity of this team, particularly Annalise, who exhibits a combination of trigger-happy attitude and flat affect. Maybe that doesn't sound very appealing, but I rather like gritty 1980s determined-psycho-bloke-with-weapon-takes-out-bad-guys movies, so all I can say is it worked for me. I hesitated between giving this book four and five stars, but in the end, I went for five because this book grabbed my attention and held it. I resented having to put my ebook reader down when I went to sleep last night. I'm likely going to buy the second one now.
More rarely it is useable as a spell , but then it attracts attention from the predators of the empty spaces or worse from Raymond Lilly and his boss Analise.
Raymond is a gopher for the now only slightly human sorceress Analise. Her job and that of most sorcerors, to track down, contain and destroy spellbooks. Why - because every spell draws unhealthy attention to earth from the malign or just mindless powers of the unseen spaces. And it doesnt help that sorcerors are jealous of their magic too.
Raymond made the cardinal mistake of learing a spell and then getting caught. Now its work as a spell hunter - or end up killed by them. He's a wonderfully out of his depth excon with a single spell whos trapped between extradimensional horrors and a boss who all seem to want him killed.
Immensely enjoyable , desperately serious , blisteringy dark take on lovecrafts 'from beyond'. Any fan of Harry Dresden or of Charles Stross's laundry books will love this. The two main characters Raymond and Analise are both fascinating. The lack of traditional magic and fantasy elements leaves you intrigued as to what the next page will bring. Given the modern take on lovecraft its normally nothing good.
Fabulous first book. Couldnt put it down, had to read it to the end.
There's no vampires, werewolves or angels in these books, although there is quite a lot of magic. I read it right after finishing one of Charles Stross's Laundry books and it seemed to fit right in.
Ray Lilly is a recently released, ex-con with interesting tattoos that protect him from a lot of violent things - and some magic. His boss, Annalise, is part of a consortium doing its level best to project the rest of the world from rampant, uncontrolled magic and Ray is just supposed to be the driver. And, if he steps out of line, she's going to kill him.
Magic is dangerous and every time they turn around some moron's found a spell book and is creating more havoc. The numpties are forever summoning strange creatures from neighbouring universes whose sole purpose is to consume the denizens of our planet - it appears we're quite tasty...
I really enjoyed <em>Child of Fire</em> - it's a good read for me, as I like fast-paced thrillers a lot and the premise of this one was definitely interesting. It's got great characters and a spooky town that is like the <em>Stepford Wives</em> multiplied by 100!
I bought this first and having consumed the book (!) rapidly, I purchased the other three immediately as they are that enjoyable! Fast paced with engaging characters based in an 21st century urban environment with magic being hidden from society.
His style has 'some' similarities to Jim Butcher's books and I think if you enjoyed those, you should really try these.
Well done Mr Connolly.




