Blogtour review - Kill Them With Kindness by Will Carver

Kill Them with Kindness
Will Carver
Orenda Books, 19 June 2025
Available as: PB, 292pp, audio, e   
Source: Advance copy
ISBN(PB): 9781916788381

I'm grateful to Orenda for sending me a copy of Kill Them With Kindness to consider for review, and to Anne for inviting me to join the book's blogtour.

A worldwide coronavirus pandemic. 

Shady but well-connected figures eager to profit from the misery. Lockdowns. 

A foppish, populist UK PM who can't keep his trousers zipped up for more than half an hour.

All signalling, then, that Kill them with Kindness has no bearing AT ALL on actual recent world history. So the speculation here that the virus, and the vaccine, was scheduled; that a third party intervened to change it from what it might have been; and that a secret cabal of world leaders knew rather more about matters that they let on - can all be safely indulged in the interests of a fascinating and knotty plot that nevertheless dramatises some of the real dilemmas that we faced a few years back. Carver's writing is excellently adapted to the. He has the rare ability - no, scratch that, unique, at least so far as I'm aware - to dramatise not only the events of a story but also the actual ethics of it.

Here, that is done mainly though two characters - the blustering, blond Harris Jackson, Prime Minister of the UK, who can't encounter a woman without seeking to impregnate her, and brilliant but modest Dr Haruko Ikeda, a Japanese scientist who works at a Chinese research centre backed by American money. Jackson doesn't care if a few million people die, so long as it serves his purposes. Ikeda wants to save lives, but he has a wider vision than that: to make life, people, kinder. While the two never meet, they are in effect the players in the chess game, well matched since one has immense political power but - seemingly - little empathy, while the other brims over with empathy but is being forced to act by circumstances.

Carver's portrayal of both men is superb, but it's only part of the storytelling here. Events, literally taking part on a world scale, are given life by vignettes of individuals, too many to list, across the nations and of all ages and social positions. This author is a master of the telling phrase, the perfect description or action, showing what people are doing or thinking. These go beyond simply the reaction - people are panicked, people are scared, people are greedy, selfish or heroes, or whatever - to engage with the rights and wrongs, the awkward unexpected reactions, the unintended consequences, of the story. 

Carver widens his canvas, I think, here, compared to previous books where events were often focussed on a small locality - a building, a village - but despite this larger stage he still makes the story connect very directly with a reader's own experience and convictions. It helps here of course that we have all recently gone through a pandemic so many of the experiences described and the trains of thought are closely rooted in observed experience. That connectedness means that Kill Them with Kindness is at the same time a deeply serious and thoughtful book - the author's argument about the value of simple kindness deserves respect - as well as an absorbing and often funny read. 

Carver never disappoints, and Kill them with Kindness is a stunner of a read.

For more information about Kill Them with Kindness, see the publisher's website here - and of course the other stops on the blogtour which you can see listed on the poster below. 

You can buy Kill them with Kindness from your local high street bookshop or online from Bookshop UK, Hive Books, Blackwell's, Foyle's, WH Smith, or Waterstones.

Review - Bury Our Bones In The Midnight Soil by VE Schwab

Bury Our Bones In The Midnight Soil 

VE Schwab
Pan Macmillan, 10 June 2025
Available as: HB, pp, PB, 544pp, audio, e   
Source: Advance e-copy
ISBN(HB): 9781035064649

I'm grateful to the publisher for giving me access to an advance e-copy of Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil to consider for review.

I don't think I can review Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil without dropping one potential spoiler - although it is a point I see mentioned in some of the author blurbs, so I think it's justified, if you want to go into this story in delightful ignorance of the central idea, stop reading now?

Still with me?

Well...

Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil is very much a vampire book. Across three timelines - one starting in 16th century Spain, the second in 19th century England and the third, present day Boston, MA, we see the workings of these ancient, corrupt creatures. It's actually often on familiar ground in its exploration of the idea, showing up the consequences for these long-lasting, but not immortal, monsters. The solitude. The loss of any possible human connection as mortals age and die. The need for secrecy. The ethical dilemma, when one's existence depends on taking human lives, and often. 

Where VE Schwab adds something of her own to the conceit is in her chosen monsters - or perhaps I should say victims. 

María is a peasant girl in medieval Spain. Blessed - or cursed - with good looks she seizes an opportunity to get out of grinding poverty and toil, but finds herself in an unfamiliar world without allies or friends. The life of a noblewoman is even more circumscribed than that of a poor girl. Can María repeat her trick and turn the table son the stuffy aristo who she's married?

Charlotte is a wealthy young woman in 19th century England. Like María, her only future seems to be a loveless marriage - until she meets a dazzling foreign contessa who awakes forbidden desire...

Finally, Alice, a young Scottish woman who's arrived to study at Harvard, has already made her move for escape, and has no wish to go any further, but she has little say in matters following a student party...

Each of these three stories is substantial and receives generous space in Schwab's novel, the book cutting back and forward. I don't always enjoy this device, the writer has to really know what they're doing but Schwab brings it off handsomely - with one "but...". This is the inevitable risk that any reader will enjoy one of the timelines more, or less, and resent some of the switches. For me, I found time spent with Alice a little frustrating. She wasn't a character I warmed to very quickly, and it didn't help that while the other two women's stories are more or less chronological, with Alice we get both her "now, in Boston" story and also callbacks to her previous life in her rural Scottish town and her difficult sister. The latter often interrupt the "now" timeline very abruptly and sometimes, very annoyingly. In particular I found Alice's sister, Catty, who these segments often dwell on, difficult.

Alice's dilemma in this book is - spoiler coming - that having been "turned" and (unlike the other two women) "turned" pretty much non consensually, she wants to work out what has happened to her and, if possible, get revenge. Alice is a new vampire, and that's a fairly simple motivation, unlike those of María and Charlotte, both of whom have spent long decades or even centuries becoming who they are. Alice's family history (fifteen years before, her mum died, her dad remarried, Alice is friendly with the new wife, Catty hates her and behaves in an increasingly bratty way) doesn't really affect that or bear on her current situation so these parts of the novel while I think insightful in terms of family dynamics, read as a distraction from the main story.

Which is a shame, because the main story is terrific! We see lots of gore. We see jealously. We see the tedium of a centuries-long existence. The loss of family and friends. The different vampires here cope with, or endure, this situation variously but with a consensus that there is a hollowing out process going on, robbing all, in the end, of their remaining humanity. (How to deal with that?)

Schwab also deftly portrays a rather vampire-specific, but immediately recognisable, strain of abuse and coercive control which, once you stop and think about it, absolutely fits with the situation. (Do bear this element of there story in mind if that's something that you might struggle with).

Above all this novel is superbly plotted, with the dance of her vampires across the centuries well choreographed to bring them together and ignite a final conflict with a few twists I absolutely hadn't anticipated. At the level of the writing itself, Schwab is always excellent of course and Bury Our Bones In The Midnight Soil is very, very readable.

So overall, I enjoyed Bury Our Bones In The Midnight Soil, and would recommend it, with the one caveat above.

For more information about Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil, see the publisher's website here.

Review - We Live Here Now by Sarah Pinborough

We Live Here Now

Sarah Pinborough
Orion, 5 June 2025 
Available as: HB, 336pp, audio, e   
Source: Advance e-copy
ISBN(HB): 9781398722606

I'm grateful to Orion for giving me access to an advance e-copy of We Live Here Now  to consider for review.

Sarah Pinborough is the queen of the domestic tragedy, where a middle class couple have their brittle stability upset by secrets, physiological flaws and a twist of the supernatural - which sometimes seems to have been conjured by a darkness emanating from the apparent contented pair.

We Live Here Now explores just such a setup, pairing it with a convincingly Gothic setting - Larkin Lodge, a brooding house on Dartmoor, a place that, as the opening section hints with its references to Jane Eyre, has its own secrets.  It's expertly done and Pinborough guides her readers in and out of sympathy with the main protagonist, Emily, making the outlandish goings on here seem almost unexceptional and certainly quite believable.

Emily is coming to terms with drastic changes in her life, as the job she'd staked so much on is taken away from her in the aftermath of a dreadful accident. Troubled by guilt and loss, she doubts herself, she doubts her husband Freddie and, one feels, has thrown herself into the project of buying and occupying Larkin Lodge as a way of avoiding the need to confront all that. 

Freddie has his own demons - I think the reader will suspect from fairly early on that it's one of two possible things, either likely to wreck his and Emily's relationship. 

In chapters written from the point of view of each, we are soon shown the facts, but more importantly, the layers of self-justification, the accusations, and increasingly, the poisonous state of the relationship. It's all rather compelling, rather horrifying and rather ominous. And that's before Emily starts feeling there is... something... about the house.

This build was impressive - there were so many ways things might go - with an atmosphere of moral taint, a feeling that something about Larking Lodge is alive and reaching out, that Emily and Freddie - and those who lived there before them - is reaching out. But it's puzzling. As Emily becomes obsessed with the Lodge and begins to research it, she doesn't discover a simple history of tragedies. There are former owners who seem to have had a good life there. How to square that with her own feelings of distress?

Maybe it's Emily that is the problem.

That's certainly what Freddie decides.

With overtones of gaslighting, coercion and manipulation, We Live Here Now goes to some very dark places indeed. Equally at home providing the reader with a plausible nexus between individual despair and the supernatural, and a pin-sharp portrayal of middle class life and relationships, Pinborough has written a story that grabbed me and made sure I kept on until the final catastrophe(s) are resolved - or not, given the very unsettling final section.

I loved seeing the shout outs to other authors, including to a particular supernatural series whose author recently died, as well as the sense of time-encrusted mystery around what is actually wrong with Larkin Lodge and when it all began.

I would strongly recommend We Live Here Now.

For more information about We Live Here Now, see the publisher's website here.

Review - Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales by Heather Fawcett

Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales (Emily Wilde, 3)

Heather Fawcett
Orbit, 11 February 2025
Available as: HB, 368, audio, e   
Source: Advance copy
ISBN(HB): 9780356519197

I'm grateful to Orbit for giving me access to an advance e-copy of Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales to consider for review.

"Stories shape the realms and the actions of those who dwell there. Some of those stories are known to mortals." - Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales.

Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales begins just where Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands finishes, with Emily (Cambridge's foremost dryadolgist) and Wendell about to step through the magic door that will lead them from our world to Wendell's, so that he can reclaim his fairy kingdom. Emily's irritating colleague Wendell is, we have learned, in reality and exiled fairy prince who has been searching for a way back so that he can challenge his stepmother for the throne.

This story is, then, rather different from the previous two because it's less Emily trying to solve a mystery in the course of her research than a deliberate and planned incursion (even if Emily's diary and reporting style are reminiscent of an academic field trip - you can take the woman out of Cambridge, but...)

Or so it would seem. In fact, once the two set foot in Wendell's kingdom, their troubles have only begun. It's less the battle for the throne, more the elusive and downright sulky nature of the kingdom itself. Oh, and the curse that his stepmother has laid upon it...

And that does take us closer to the earlier books, which might be oversimplifiedlified as Emily drawing on her knowledge of fairy lore to solve a situation. In Compendium of Lost Tales, it's a brutal one, the kingdom is dying, how will it be saved? Wendell has an answer, but his solution is likely to cost Emily everything. can she find, as it were, a loophole in the contract? Surrounded by shifty fae, whose loyalty and friendships change like the clouds on a windy day, and with Shadow also ailing, it's a tough challenge.

I enjoyed this book the most of the three Emily Wilde stories. Until now, the fairy kingdoms have only been visited briefly, events being seen through human eyes from our world. While Emily's and Wendell's strong central characters have dominated, the human angle has distracted - I kept trying to pick apart the differences between Fawcett's Earth and our own, and to locate her Cambridge and Emily's and Wendell's society in relation to our own. That isn't really the point of the books, I think. In contrast the full blown engagement with fairyland in this third book rather frees the imagination to engage with the tricksy business of fairy magic, fate and Wendell's complicated family relationships. It also brings a slew of fascinating new characters who I enjoyed meeting.

Great fun, and a fine ending to this brilliant series. 

For more information about Emily Wilde's Compendium of Lost Tales, see the publisher's website here.

Review - Soft Core by Brittany Newell

Soft Core

Brittany Newell
4th Estate, 13 March 2025
Available as: HB, 352pp,  audio, e   
Source: Advance e-copy
ISBN(HB): 9780008670382

I'm grateful to 4th Estate for giving me access to an advance e-copy of Soft Core to consider for review.

In Soft Core, Ruthie goes by several names. She is "Baby" in the club where she strips, "Miss Sunday" in the Dream House dungeon. As she remarks herself, she's almost never called Ruth. The image of a ghost pops up repeatedly, as though Ruthie is merely haunting her world. "I was an affable ghost, too shy to speak up when someone cut me in line..." Passing from bar to bar, she is "both a ghost and an archangel".

It's not clear how her missing ex, Dino, refers to Ruthie as he's, well, missing through most of this story. Indeed the story seems occasioned by his disappearance since, as a slice of Ruthie's life, the book begins when he vanishes. While she waits for Dino to reappear, or not, Ruthie goes about her day - and nightly - business, recalls her earlier life and muses on the city around her.

Through it all, she is, though, gradually coming apart. To call Dino her ex understates what the two meant to each other, I think. "To me, [Dino] was San Francisco embodied, misty, bookish and debased". Also "I didn't need anything other than what [Dino] gave to me; he was my nightlife, my superstore, all the books in the world" and 'I'd felt like this during my wild years too, until Dino had managed to calm me". 

Ruthie's meeting with Dino ended a restless period of her life, both in terms of employment and relationships ("My body was a friendly ghost, causing trouble just because. I dealt with it as one must deal with a poltergeist; I didn't take its hijinks personally and tried to ignore what it did after dark. That's when I went out, got horny and stupid", "After the line cook, I went on a spree. I began my weekends on Thursday and slept with a different man every night... suddenly I had a hobby... Mazzy [Ruthie's friend] put it succinctly: You've found something that you're good at. She would know, she was a prodigious slut... she would go on to blow the father of the family she babysat for." Even though they've split (for some hard to understand value of "split" she still lives in his house and the book paints a touching picture of the complex relationship between them. 

Food is a central preoccupation in the book. Dino, a drug dealer, had been a professional cook and cooked for Ruthie. "...vast Dominican feasts; we played chess while we digested". When the pair first met they "sat on the deck and ordered like tourists in love". Dino's  ominous absence is marked by Ruthie's reversion to scrappy, irregular meals. She is conscious of the change. "At twenty-five I knew enough to know that my silly little body was far from enough. This was not self-deprecation, just brute fact. Thus I had to always be prepared for [Dino], my pantry well stocked, deli meats and sliced cheeses and sour pickles on hand. 

In Dino's place, Ruthie forms friendships with work colleagues from the club Ophelia and Emeline. Both friendships are problematic, Ophelia in an-again, off again relationship with her boyfriend, Emeline the only daughter of wealthy parents and seemingly obsessed with Ruthie.

Told in episodes that hop back and forward, less a continuous narrative then a testimony, a recollection guided not by time than but by theme, Soft Core (the name comes from a perfume that Ruthie's find of) is beautifully written, with prose that flows. As well as ghosts, death, and specifically suicide, are preoccupations - Ruthie's mother went off the rails after Ruthie's father died: he may have killed himself - and Ruthie is also I think marked by that death ("There was a very small yet ferocious girl inside me that was prone to throwing drinks in men's faces"). Ruthie has an unfinished thesis on "surveillance, ghosts and reality TV".

Dino's disappearance shakes Ruthie. She begins to think she sees him everywhere. She even approaches some of the men she thinks might be him. Realistically, Dino's profession is one that might lead to his vanishing, either in dispute with other figures in his world or his flight from danger. Perhaps looking too closely into this isn't just unwise for her wellbeing ("At this point in my decline...") but also for her safety? Nevertheless Ruthie persists, even getting into relationships with some of them. Likewise she gets closer than she ought to one of her customers at the dungeon, a collector of dolls' houses with whom she has long text conversations about suicide. 

Ruthie's life as a dancer, meeting the desires of the (mostly male) customers ("Men would do anything to feel less alone; why couldn't they be like women, humming through the pain, too shy to ask for mercy?" is a significant theme in the book. She's blunt about the work "Danger was an elemental part of our job, even if we never got hurt", her place in it "The most marketable thing about me was that I was new and white" and its impact on her "Since I started dancing I had forgotten how to look nice without also looking slutty." 

But she also notes positive changes, invisible to the men watching - dancing makes her physically stronger "a change in my body that the men couldn't discern" and she notes that in the club "all women were my sisters" (although also "All men present were my daddies" which with her father dead also recalls the themes of death and ghosts). This ghost states that "I was only visible when I took off my clothes in a dark room at night".

Soft Core is a melancholy read, at times, for all its evocative language. Ruthie's time after Dino's disappearance, her season alone, is beset by thoughts of darkness, by dangers more intuited than plainly seen. One evening the San Franciscan fog "followed me home like a man". Ruthie had "the marks of men all over me".  She's lost in some way, or Dino's absence has revealed a loss that had already existed "I missed who I was when [Dino] and I had got together, that twenty-five year old fool. She'd never given a lap dance. She's never had a mai tai. She believed in her thesis on cameras and ghosts." It's hard to feel that, if he reappeared, she'd be safer - happier, perhaps, better fed, for sure, but safer? I suppose the fact that I was concerned for her shows that Newell has made this weird ghost sympathetic and certainly Ruthie's story is immersive but it's hard to see a good resolution coming here!

I'd certainly recommend Soft Core, though its themes will not be to everyone's taste.

For more information about Soft Core, see the publisher's website here.

Grave Empire by Richard Swan

Grave Empire

Richard Swan

Orbit, 4 February 2025, 
Available as: HB, 509pp, audio, e   
Source: Advance copy
ISBN(HB): 9780356523866

I'm grateful to Orbit for sending me a copy of Grave Empire to consider for review.

Grave Empire ought not to work. Swan has gone back to the world of his Justice of Kings trilogy for a followup, set several hundred years later and with entirely new characters. The setting is recognisable, but beyond a few callbacks to the earlier books, the action is new (though, as the story develops we see that what I might call the theological character of the world is also the same).

There are pitfalls of writing a continuation to a successful trilogy. You may rehash the original, undoing the earlier resolution and making the reader ask what the point was (hello, Chronicles of Thomas Covenant! Hello, Star Wars episodes VII - IX!) Or you may produce something notionally related but not really, and be accused of simply cashing in on the earlier success. Either want you may miss what appealed the first time round.

Swan, however, avoids both of these traps and indeed rather gloriously transcends them. If the first trilogy had a sort of neo-Roman Empire setting, albeing garnished with Northern, rather than Southern, European tropes, Grave Empire picks things up in a more gunpowdery age. The warfare is a bit Napoleonic, the geopolitics more Age of Empires (complete with colonial excesses) than Ancient World. Yet, behind it all, the menace that Sir Konrad discovered, the cosmic horror that drove events in the earlier books, still festers. Only, the re-established Empire of the Wolf has now made the lore that might have allowed it to resists, even more forbidden. Quite the conundrum.

Against that background, Grave Empire gives us some brilliant new characters. There is Peter, a young man recently recruited to the Sovan Army. Swan is good on the motivation for the this, the mix of personal drift, family situation and peer pressure. He also creates a plausible military for Peter to join, and a plausible disillusionment for him to undergo, amidst the coming apart of Sovan political and diplomatic influence and an increasingly precarious strategic position. Peter's arc will lead him to and beyond the fringes of Sovan power and to him becoming the holder of strange secrets.

There's also Renata, a studious if obscure Sovan diplomat in a little-regarded branch of the bureaucracy, that will soon be brought to the centre of matters as the crisis escalates. I rather like the "obscure functionary unexpectedly thrust into the limelight" trope (as a bureaucrat myself perhaps it plays into my wish fulfilment: if only people would actually listen to ME!) and Renata's an ideal subject for it, a mix of high competence and low confidence. 

This opening volume of the new trilogy takes its time, and gives plenty of space, allowing both Renata and Peter to develop and for us as readers to take their measure. (And also introduces a number of others). Plenty else is happening, with military expeditions, plots and a mysterious master-spy whose motives seem deeply dubious, if still rather obscure. Many of these threads remain separate, though Swan uses the alternate viewpoints they provide to provide more information about the "modern" version of his world.

It's a gripping read, one that fairly rattles along in terms of pace and Swan successfully prevents the reader from pining overmuch at the loss of his earlier roster of characters, as she or he might have if it had been set closer in time. 

Recommended.

For more information about Grave Empire, see the publisher's website here.

Review - A Granite Silence by Nina Allan

A Granite Silence

Nina Allan
Riverrun, 10 April 2025
Available as: HB, 352pp, audio, e   
Source: Bought
ISBN(HB): 9781529435573

I have to say, I paused over A Granite Silence because I thought at first that might be "true crime" and I have a bit of a dislike of that genre. But I love Nina Allan's books and trust her as an author so was curious to see what she had written.

And I am so glad I did that because this is a wonderful book, albeit, at times, a painful one to read. 

But first, about that genre label. Showing how false and misleading these things are, yes, this book is about a true crime - the murder of a young girl, Helen Priestly, in 1930s Aberdeen - but it is also a work of fiction, and many other things besides. Allan gives us a razor sharp analysis of the crime and its aftermaths - and its beforemaths too. But she also wraps that in fiction. The ideas roll around like quicksilver, the book imagining the lives of the various protagonists, often in quite tangential settings and circumstances and far from Aberdeen.  Often, the settings often turn out not to be so tangential at all. There are alternative timelines and lives here too, all of which enrich the central events, and even pieces of clear fiction which might stand as complete stories in themselves. 

In Allan's hands, Aberdeen becomes a nexus, a place haunted by emigrés, journalists drawn to the events portrayed here and by the author herself as she describes her investigation of the murder and the subsequent trial but also fills us in on the wider past, the city and the country. She shows that Aberdeen is a complex place which has actually had many pasts.  There are even some science-fictional elements in this mass of stories, hinting at other worldly goings on.

I felt that A Granite Silence has implicit, but real, connections with other of Allan's books,  particularly The Rift and The Race, both of which turned on disappearances and loss and both of which also touched on wider alternate realities. In A Granite Silence things are more realist, but the exploration, in the second half of the book, of the trial which followed young Helen's murder naturally engages the same sense of multiple realities - that's the point of a trial, surely, you tip out everything on the table and try to sort out all the possibilities?

The book also covers an extraordinary range of other subjects, ranging from a modernised version of Burn's Tam O'Shanter (a poem I studied for O level English literature - at last, I felt as I read this, that has come in useful!) to Harry Houdini's visit to Aberdeen to the development of forensic science to the sheer difficulty of finding what becomes of people, only a few decades back, when there is no Internet to force them to leave breadcrumb trails.

It's difficult to do justice in a short review to the sheer breadth of this book, to its empathy for the poor souls devastated by tragedy nearly a hundred years ago or to the pains Allan takes to show how the great web of connections, of society, while stretched and holed, reaches forward. Far from being preoccupied by a shocking crime, Allan uses her art to get beyond that granite silence, to hear the very stones ringing to vanished footsteps, to futures that never were. The various strangers who people her Aberdeen and then move on are like sonic waves, imaging what can't be seen in the murk of the North Sea waters.

A profound, moving and thought-provoking book, but also a joy to read.

For more information about A Granite Silence, see the author's website here.