A complicated, engrossing sci-fi saga, featuring religious overtones (albeit seasoned with skepticism) that may appeal to...


From the Benwarian Chronicles series , Vol. 6

The Benwarians, friendly aliens in Arizona trying to save humanity from itself, combat a formidable and persistent foe: either the devil incarnate or a mass of negative energy that is a pretty accurate stand-in.

Author Samuelson (Ride the Neural Networks, 2016, etc.) continues a Benwarian Chronicles series started in A Benwarian Fix (2009). Benwarians are the survivors of an advanced, benevolent nation from the doomed planet Lemmus whose other inhabitants (“Lemmings”…get it?) succumbed to religious mania, greed, and selfishness and allowed climate change and other ills to destroy their environment. An escaping colony of Benwarians has been nearing Earth, intending not only to make a new home for themselves, but to help Homo sapiens avoid the same mistakes. Porter Tellez is a cultured (British-accented, no less) blue-skinned Benwarian soldier-statesman sent ahead in a vanguard to Earth. Unfortunately, his initial landing site, in 1970s South Africa, made him an abused political prisoner of the racist apartheid system, exposed to some of the worst evil humanity had to offer. This includes “Alpha,” a primordial demon of malice, possessing one sentient being after another and spreading suffering and ruin, in the manner of the devil himself (which Alpha claims to be). Here, in the sixth book in the series, Porter and his extended Benwarian/human family and comrades, after escaping South Africa, have established themselves in rural Arizona, on a ranch secretly being prepped as a Benwarian base. Alpha, however, journeyed with them, hiding in the brain of Porter’s younger Benwarian ward Travis. Exorcised, the vengeful entity leaps from one body to another—including a bear and cow—intent on destroying the aliens and their loved ones. Alpha finds a most promising host in Jonny J. Miller, a peripheral character from an earlier book. The Benwarian bunch know that danger is near; meanwhile, under Alpha’s manipulation, Jonny falls in with organized crime, finds an accursed shotgun, and starts evolving into a murderer.      With its circumbendibus storyline, the novel shouldn’t work as well as it does, a testament to the author’s tale-spinning chops and ability to get into the heads (much like Alpha does) of characters with tangled backstories. Key elements seem à la carte helpings of previous sci-fi/fantasy material; the Porter-Travis relationship in particular is very similar to Obi-Wan Kenobi’s mentoring Luke Skywalker (minus Luke’s father drama), and the Benwarians, sure enough, use mojo very much akin to Jedi mind tricks in their routine heroics. But Star Wars characters never invoked the Bible while facing the Dark Side, as is done here. There’s a running debate between rationalist nonbeliever Porter; his devout African wife, Loreto; and his psychic half-caste son, Logan, over whether Alpha, aka Satan, has validity, or whether the infernal fiend they’re fighting merely represents “an archetype of ancient memories so powerful they have remained electrically charged thoughts.” The same goes for Jesus, Christianity, and heaven, disdained as fanciful by Porter (even though he’s a good-sport alien chap and attends weekly Sunday school at his wife’s insistence). This metaphysical argument remains politely unresolved.

A complicated, engrossing sci-fi saga, featuring religious overtones (albeit seasoned with skepticism) that may appeal to Christian readers.

Pub Date: N/A


Page Count: 203

Publisher: Self

Review Posted Online: July 5, 2019

Did you like this book?

No Comments Yet

A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.

Reader Votes

  • Readers Vote
  • 59

Our Verdict

  • Our Verdict
  • GET IT

  • New York Times Bestseller


Are we not men? We are—well, ask Bigfoot, as Brooks does in this delightful yarn, following on his bestseller World War Z (2006).

A zombie apocalypse is one thing. A volcanic eruption is quite another, for, as the journalist who does a framing voice-over narration for Brooks’ latest puts it, when Mount Rainier popped its cork, “it was the psychological aspect, the hyperbole-fueled hysteria that had ended up killing the most people.” Maybe, but the sasquatches whom the volcano displaced contributed to the statistics, too, if only out of self-defense. Brooks places the epicenter of the Bigfoot war in a high-tech hideaway populated by the kind of people you might find in a Jurassic Park franchise: the schmo who doesn’t know how to do much of anything but tries anyway, the well-intentioned bleeding heart, the know-it-all intellectual who turns out to know the wrong things, the immigrant with a tough backstory and an instinct for survival. Indeed, the novel does double duty as a survival manual, packed full of good advice—for instance, try not to get wounded, for “injury turns you from a giver to a taker. Taking up our resources, our time to care for you.” Brooks presents a case for making room for Bigfoot in the world while peppering his narrative with timely social criticism about bad behavior on the human side of the conflict: The explosion of Rainier might have been better forecast had the president not slashed the budget of the U.S. Geological Survey, leading to “immediate suspension of the National Volcano Early Warning System,” and there’s always someone around looking to monetize the natural disaster and the sasquatch-y onslaught that follows. Brooks is a pro at building suspense even if it plays out in some rather spectacularly yucky episodes, one involving a short spear that takes its name from “the sucking sound of pulling it out of the dead man’s heart and lungs.” Grossness aside, it puts you right there on the scene.

A tasty, if not always tasteful, tale of supernatural mayhem that fans of King and Crichton alike will enjoy.

Pub Date: June 16, 2020

ISBN: 978-1-9848-2678-7

Page Count: 304

Publisher: Del Rey/Ballantine

Review Posted Online: Feb. 10, 2020

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 1, 2020

Did you like this book?

Finding positivity in negative pregnancy-test results, this depiction of a marriage in crisis is nearly perfect.


Named for an imperfectly worded fortune cookie, Hoover's (It Ends with Us, 2016, etc.) latest compares a woman’s relationship with her husband before and after she finds out she’s infertile.

Quinn meets her future husband, Graham, in front of her soon-to-be-ex-fiance’s apartment, where Graham is about to confront him for having an affair with his girlfriend. A few years later, they are happily married but struggling to conceive. The “then and now” format—with alternating chapters moving back and forth in time—allows a hopeful romance to blossom within a dark but relatable dilemma. Back then, Quinn’s bad breakup leads her to the love of her life. In the now, she’s exhausted a laundry list of fertility options, from IVF treatments to adoption, and the silver lining is harder to find. Quinn’s bad relationship with her wealthy mother also prevents her from asking for more money to throw at the problem. But just when Quinn’s narrative starts to sound like she’s writing a long Facebook rant about her struggles, she reveals the larger issue: Ever since she and Graham have been trying to have a baby, intimacy has become a chore, and she doesn’t know how to tell him. Instead, she hopes the contents of a mystery box she’s kept since their wedding day will help her decide their fate. With a few well-timed silences, Hoover turns the fairly common problem of infertility into the more universal problem of poor communication. Graham and Quinn may or may not become parents, but if they don’t talk about their feelings, they won’t remain a couple, either.

Finding positivity in negative pregnancy-test results, this depiction of a marriage in crisis is nearly perfect.

Pub Date: July 17, 2018

ISBN: 978-1-5011-7159-8

Page Count: 320

Publisher: Atria

Review Posted Online: May 1, 2018

Kirkus Reviews Issue: May 15, 2018

Did you like this book?