The Literate Kitty

I was messing around on Amazon late one night, when I found— {gasp!} —another work by Ilona Andrews! Something that was neither part of the Magic nor the Edge series! I felt like I’d won the lottery when I found this little gem. ( Okay, a tiny little lottery, but still... ) Silent Blade is a short story, available only by itself (rather than as part of an anthology). The fact that it seems to be available solely as an e-book is the only possible downside I can see, here.  It's definitely NOT like the other Ilona Andrews books I’ve read (and fallen in love with), and yet, in a way, it does remind me just a bit of them.  For starters, Silent Blade is really not an Urban Fantasy story (although it is classified as such on Amazon), simply because there's no "F" involved. It isn't a Paranormal Romance, either, because there's no "P" aspect to it.  If pressed, I'd have to make my own new classification for this one: USFR (Urban Sci-Fi Romance). ...

Imagine having three days left to live... knowing that 72 hours was all the time you had, and that it wouldn't be spent wasting away in a bed somewhere in the last stages of disease, or waiting to be executed at a certain time; but rather, that once those 72 somewhat-normal hours had elapsed, your time would simply be up. You'd breathe your final breaths, then Game Over.  Now, imagine that same scenario... but spending it not in your own familiar package of skin, bones, blood, and muscle--but in a stranger's body. Your thoughts, feelings and emotions--in someone else's shell. (That 72 hours just gets better and better, doesn't it?) But, wait--that's still not everything. The three-day period isn't yours to simply enjoy (hugging loved ones, eating bon-bons and swilling champagne, having wild monkey sex in public places, or whatever); no, you have a mission: finding out who killed you (which, of course, is what necessitated your thoughts migrating to anothe...

Sex, drugs, and... blue bloods? Definitely a case of "one of these things is not like the other", isn't it? Sex and drugs belong with good times—think uninhibited behavior and excess, under cover of moonlight, set to the beat of drums and a wailing guitar.  Blue bloods, on the other hand, are more historic mansions, butlers, and Bentleys—an excess, to be sure, but one of showiness, of the outward trappings of immense wealth and privilege. And yet, author P.J. Parrish manages to combine those two seemingly disparate themes—the lurid tawdriness of sex and drugs, and the power and prestige of old money—to striking effect in her latest novel, The Little Death , set in Palm Beach, Florida and its environs, circa 1989. Parrish is actually a pair of sisters--Kristy and Kelly--now living in Florida and Mississippi, respectively, after having grown up in Michigan. (All three states have featured in their books, and it’s clear that the women have a real feel and genuine love for th...

During a recent Amazon shopping extravaganza, I loaded up my cart with all manner of nifty things--a couple of new Urban Fantasy books I was looking forward to, some favorites I wasn't content to only have on Kindle, a classic, a few older/used books (friend recommendations) from outside sellers, plus a couple of DVDs and a few other gifts. My virtual cart was stuffed; at least, the real-world version would have been.  Still, I wasn't content; I had to add "one more thing". So I browsed some more, until I came upon a new book, by a first-time author, which sounded promising. Into the cart it went. A few more mouse-clicks, and my shopping was completed. (Ah, the wonders of cyberspace.) Only a couple days later, and I'd already received most of my goodies. I was in reader heaven. I dove into my new UFs and my classic. I lovingly stroked the new pb-versions of my Kindle favorites, promising to reread them in tactile form very soon. I cracked open the older/used book...