First, time for a look back on my March TBR. First I read Web of the Witch World, book 2 of Andre Norton’s Witch World. Then I read The Ships of Merior by Janny Wurts for the second month of my Wars of Light and Shadow (re)read. Due to a misprint in my newer copy of The Ships of Merior, I also bought and read A Runner’s Guide to Rakiura by Jessica Howland Kany. I read The Immortal City, book one of The Magicians of Venice by Amy Kuivalainen. Which just leaves Ephemera by Tina Shaw. I didn’t read this. As I got to the end of the month, I decided that I wanted to read one of the Ockham finalists that were on my shelf, so I picked up Better the Blood by Michael Bennett. I also started (and almost finished) another Ockham finalist, The Axeman’s Carnival by Catherine Chidgey.
For April, I’d like to continue my Wars of Light and Shadow (re)read, and otherwise add in some recently acquired new releases and classic Science Fiction.
First in my TBR is therefore Warhost of Vastmark, book three of Wars and Light and Shadow.
Next up, two books that I preordered when I was putting in the beautiful books order, Now She is Witch by Kirsty Logan and The Mysterious Case of the Alperton Angels by Janice Hallett.
I’ve also been dying to read Cuckoo’s Egg by C.J. Cherryh since I picked it up earlier this year. It just sounds so interesting.
They named him Thorn. They told him he was of their people, although he was so different. He was ugly in their eyes, strange, sleek-skinned instead of furred, clawless, different. Yet he was of their power class: judge-warriors, the elite, the fighters, the defenders.
Thorn knew that his difference was somehow very important – but not important enough to prevent murderous conspiracies against him, against his protector, against his caste, and perhaps against the peace of the world. But when the crunch came, when Thorn finally learned what his true role in life was to be, that on him might hang the future of two worlds, then he had to stand alone to justify his very existence.
I also want to try to fit in one of the short and quirky sounding books I picked up this month, The Weathermonger by Peter Dickinson.
From the Twentieth Century to the Dark Ages overnight – such was fate that befell Britain five years from now. Machines were shunned and witchcraft had become the order of the day. Superstition and all the narrowness of the medieval era was the way of the populace and those who believed in science and mechanics fled the island.
To this strangely changed land, two return to seek the source of the blight that had so altered natural laws. Geoffrey, the condemned weathermonger of Weymouth, and his sister, slip back, take over a still-functioning Rolls Royce Silver Ghost and follow the lightning to a terrifying confrontation between myth and science.