A big, fun fantasy epic.



Price’s debut fantasy novel follows a young man who is the latest in a line of Earth-defending heroes.

Avery Cole, a University of Chicago student about to propose to his girlfriend, is looking forward to a night of watching the Cubs and drinking beer when a sword falls from the sky, pierces him through the chest, and zaps him into another world. The sword, it turns out, is Excalibur, the magical weapon of King Arthur. It’s presence in Chicago as part of a museum exhibition has brought all sorts of unlikely characters to the Windy City: Sir Gawain of the Round Table; a dwarf named Nicholas; an ancient madman named Solomon; and Solomon’s sidekick pig, Eustathios. Many wish to claim the sword, but Excalibur has chosen Avery. He awakens in the midst of a white ocean and swims toward an island where he is told, “Give up. Your pain, your past, your life is over. Join us for the Griffin has claimed you.” The Griffin is a figure—sometimes heroic, sometimes villainous—called upon to protect the Earth from outside interference. Assisted by a group of ragtag heroes from across history and myth, Avery lands in the middle of an ancient battle waged between the Tribunal, who are bound to defend our world as we know it, and Empros, Inc., an interdimensional corporation poised for a hostile takeover. Price’s prose moves the reader along at a pleasant trot: “With each step the former Knight of the Round Table took towards the museum a green glow began to hover around him like fog creeping in from Lake Michigan.” The book is suffused with an endearing humor, which makes the characters easy to root for and the mythos easy to stomach. While the dialogue is often rather wooden, Price adeptly handles the novel’s parallel storylines and keeps the reader with him for the whole of the book’s 700-plus pages. The mix of fantasy, sci-fi, and satirical elements makes for a massive, immersive, and entertaining world that should please genre fans and general readers alike.

A big, fun fantasy epic.

Pub Date: Aug. 2, 2017

ISBN: 978-1-5483-3317-1

Page Count: 754

Publisher: CreateSpace

Review Posted Online: Feb. 13, 2018

Kirkus Reviews Issue: March 15, 2018

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.


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?

Suspenseful, full of incident, and not obviously necessary.


Atwood goes back to Gilead.

The Handmaid’s Tale (1985), consistently regarded as a masterpiece of 20th-century literature, has gained new attention in recent years with the success of the Hulu series as well as fresh appreciation from readers who feel like this story has new relevance in America’s current political climate. Atwood herself has spoken about how news headlines have made her dystopian fiction seem eerily plausible, and it’s not difficult to imagine her wanting to revisit Gilead as the TV show has sped past where her narrative ended. Like the novel that preceded it, this sequel is presented as found documents—first-person accounts of life inside a misogynistic theocracy from three informants. There is Agnes Jemima, a girl who rejects the marriage her family arranges for her but still has faith in God and Gilead. There’s Daisy, who learns on her 16th birthday that her whole life has been a lie. And there's Aunt Lydia, the woman responsible for turning women into Handmaids. This approach gives readers insight into different aspects of life inside and outside Gilead, but it also leads to a book that sometimes feels overstuffed. The Handmaid’s Tale combined exquisite lyricism with a powerful sense of urgency, as if a thoughtful, perceptive woman was racing against time to give witness to her experience. That narrator hinted at more than she said; Atwood seemed to trust readers to fill in the gaps. This dynamic created an atmosphere of intimacy. However curious we might be about Gilead and the resistance operating outside that country, what we learn here is that what Atwood left unsaid in the first novel generated more horror and outrage than explicit detail can. And the more we get to know Agnes, Daisy, and Aunt Lydia, the less convincing they become. It’s hard, of course, to compete with a beloved classic, so maybe the best way to read this new book is to forget about The Handmaid’s Tale and enjoy it as an artful feminist thriller.

Suspenseful, full of incident, and not obviously necessary.

Pub Date: Sept. 10, 2019

ISBN: 978-0-385-54378-1

Page Count: 432

Publisher: Nan A. Talese

Review Posted Online: Sept. 4, 2019

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 15, 2019

Did you like this book?

No Comments Yet