Underground Book Reviews

The Uncanny Valley was chosen as an underground favorite by UndergroundBookReviews.com!

Do you believe in magic? #YoungAdult #Scifi #Fantasy

Promising Light

by Emily Ann Ward

“Do you believe in magic, m’lady?” the woman asked.

The first page of the book was in a language Grace had never seen before. “I don’t know,” she told the merchant. “I’ve never seen it.”

“Ah, but just because you haven’t seen something doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

“True. What kind of magic are you talking about?”

The woman waved her hand. “All kinds. Different families are gifted with different magic.” When Grace raised her eyebrows, the woman said, “There are those who can heal the body or break it. There are shape changers from Shyra. There—”

“Shyra?” Grace repeated.

“Yes. They say the shape changers have the power to look like anybody, dead or alive. Some can change into animals. Some can even change into things that aren’t alive. Trees, rocks, water.” She smiled. Her teeth were dirty and cracked. “Perhaps you knew someone from Shyra? Or perhaps you don’t know that you know someone from Shyra because they pretend to be someone else.”

Grace swore she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. Shape changers? It couldn’t be real. They were legends, tales from storybooks. They couldn’t have anything to do with the man who warned her about Dar or with Dar’s sudden departure. “Perhaps. Why should I believe the magic is real?”

“You don’t have to.” The woman sat down again. “But my books will convince you.”

Fantasy Kindle Book: "Judgment Rising: The Rys Chronicles Book III" by Tracy Falbe

Having just survived a vicious attack, Dreibrand contemplates a new threat to his realm...

 

He dug the grave himself. The physical exertion provided his anxiety with an outlet. While the men gathered stones for the cairn, Dreibrand recalled the image of the male creature who had loomed in front of him. His weapon had been refined and beautiful but the being had been a wiry wild thing and naked except for a primitive bit of covering. This killer born of the Tabren was powerful, vicious, and utterly intimidating. 

 As Dreibrand shaped the grave, he wondered if Nufal’s haunted past had coalesced into a monster. The sable creature that had confronted him was the incarnation of every strange noise in the night. It made real every tingle of superstitious fear, and Dreibrand believed that it threatened everything that he loved. 

After they buried Pel Ton, Dreibrand kept a vigil at the trailhead. For the first time in his life, he envied Shan’s power and wished that he were a rys so that he could send his mind over the land and find his friend. Repeating Shan’s name in his head, Dreibrand clasped the warding crystal on his sword and hoped that Shan would answer him—that Shan could answer him.

Young Adult Kindle Books: "Silent Invasion" by Neil D. Ostroff

Something was wrong! Air was still. The house too quiet. Brady the neighbor’s obnoxious collie wasn’t barking outside.

Tim Madison rolled to the side of the bed and flicked on the table light. His desk, cluttered with astronomy magazines, math homework, and his eighth grade history book; the model airplane with the broken landing gear hanging by fishing line above his bed, his laptop computer, all looked normal. It was the walls. Ordinarily light-blue, they were red. He looked to the floor. The blue carpet had become black. Bright brown numbers on his digital clock beamed 6:15 A.M.

Weird, he thought. 

He slipped from the sheets, stepped toward the door, and turned the handle slowly. Bedroom light threw his shadow across the hallway’s previously tan, now lime-green carpet. Formally white hallway walls were yellow. 

“Greetings,” a low voice said.

Tim spun around. Fear soared up his spine. He tried to scream but a lungful of choked air came out. A creature a few feet taller than him, with a human body, beetle-like head, and claws instead of hands, stood wearing an all black jumpsuit. 

“I will take you to our training facility where the Thispan Council arranged accommodations,” the creature said.

Tim’s heart banged against his chest. He backed against the wall and looked from side to side thinking which way to run. To his parent’s room? The bathroom? His muscles tensed. Should he bolt back into his own bedroom and slam the door shut? 

“What?” he gasped. “Who are you?”

“I am Kiz,” the creature said. “The council sent me here because they have knowledge of dangerous events that will occur on your planet. I will teach you skills that most assures your success at preventing these events. This is your assignment.”

Tim gulped, pushing panic down. “I… I don’t understand.” 

“You are the Earth’s galactic warrior. I will explain more once we are onboard the Skyru.”

Funny Kindle Books: "Wastes of Space" by Darcy Town

A trio of feline-alien Hunters are interrogating suspects as they search for the main characters: Rake and Ravil...

Lincoln ordered Kennedy to wait in the kitchen.  The teenaged Hunter sat on the counter and rifled through boxes of rainbow-colored cereal.  He stuffed handfuls of it into his mouth and trembled from a sugar high.

Marx wandered into the kitchen, leading a young girl by the hand.  He stared at Kennedy.  “Why are you eating that?”

“I like!  This sugar tastes sweet!”  Kennedy licked his gloves and eyed the child with Marx.  “Why are you holding a cub?”

Marx looked down as if he just noticed the child.  “Lincoln asked me to.”

Kennedy dropped into a crouch on the countertop.  “May I chase it?”  He looked up at Marx and purred.  “I will not kill.  I just want to play, bat around.”

Marx frowned.  “He did not tell me to release it to you.”

Kennedy twitched and bounced on his fingertips.  He leapt.  Marx slashed him across the face.  Kennedy landed on his feet and knocked boxes of cereal over.  His yellow eyes darted to the Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms.  He pounced on the colored pieces.  Cereal crunched under his hands.  He grinned and smashed it all, enjoying the sensation.  He licked the sugary dust off the floor. 

"In Your Eyes" by Angela Scannell

Renna has just been rescued from an abusive situation by a passing army and is being hidden away with a very attractive Lieutenant. They're sharing a cot in a tent for the night...

''Thanks,” I could hear the smile in her voice, and feel her warm breath on my neck. She took a deep breath and exhaled on my bare skin. ''You smell like the rain,” she said.

''I can't do much about that,” I said with my own smile, finding it easier to talk to her when I couldn't see her. 

She reached over me one last time to put out the lantern and darkness flooded the room. I could feel her heart beat against my back, and her warm breath on my neck, and I thought that I would never fall asleep. I'd never been so close to anyone before. This felt so good, so comfortable and safe, I wanted to stay awake and enjoy it.

''Will you sleep now?” she asked in the darkness, her voice tickling the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.

I had to clear my throat again. ''Probably,” I said, ''the rain sounds so soothing,” I made it up off the top of my head. I couldn't tell her what I'd been thinking. That I'd never been held this way before. That I liked it and didn't want it to end.

"The Universal Mirror" by Gwen Perkins

“There’s a proverb on the docks that goes,” the younger man hesitated. “’Death’s the universal mirror.’ Have you heard it?”

“Something about, oh, how every man sees the reflection of his own life just when he’s facing death?” Asahel nodded in response and Felix replied, “I understand, then—go on.”

“Aye, well,” the younger man continued. “As we—Quent and I—as we’d begun to understand what we were about and the consequences… he looked in the mirror and he thought that healing others was worth dying for. I looked and… I was afraid for my own life. I still am.”

"Lisa's Way" by Robert Collins

Lisa stared at the trio of armed young men standing in the middle of the road. They wore ragged clothes; their weapons were scuffed by age. She could hear movement in the woods on either side of the road. These three had allies under cover.

How many she didn’t dare to guess. She had fourteen on her side, not counting Wayne’s and Dave’s young children. If they were willing to confront her group they would need at least ten, including those three. She had two people with bows in front of each wagon. The eight riders had hand weapons.

They could take on these outlaws, no question. The three in front of her looked pretty lean. Maybe they’ve faced warriors before, but more than likely they haven’t. While her opponents might be hungry and outmatched, they did have combatants under cover. Her side would probably win, but not without losses.

Lisa remembered Coe’s warning about outlaws and robbers. That meant that killing them could make her a powerful enemy, or it could silence a source of information she’d need. It made fighting them awfully risky. That left her to choose between turning around and trying to talk to them.

I’ll talk. They won’t be expecting that. Maybe that gives me an advantage.

"Divine Blood: Semester Start" by Luke Green

Naiki Semezou was just warned by Hel Logesdottir not to bring down the class average...

“Don’t worry too much about her,” he said. “Every week the school puts out the class averages and she’s been comparing us to other classes in our year. Class 3E is consistently scoring better than our class and every once in a while, so does Class 3B.”

“Oh … a competition, got it,” Naiki said. “Yeah, okay, I’ll keep out of her way so she can get all her high grades and stuff and just do my thing.”

“Well, it’s class averages she worries about,” Issa said.

“Okay, so what’s that got to do with me?” the green-haired girl asked.

“You’re part of the class.”

“But I’m not part of the average class, so we’re fine,” Naiki said with a shrug before turning back to her text books. “Next class was history right?”

“That was last class,” Issa said.

Naiki glanced back over her shoulder at the sound of a thump and wondered briefly why Hel was repeatedly letting her head fall against the desk she was sitting at, but shrugged it off and turned back to trying to get out the right book for the next class as the teacher walked in through the door.

"Last Rites" by Ethan Cobb

Weldon, a young priest, prepares to accompany a vampire killer on a hunting expedition:

Weldon sat in the snow contemplating whether the undead should receive last rites. The seminary lacked the answer. He would have to think more on the subject when he had more time, possible after Father Rupert’s Tuesday flower arranging class. Until then, he had other matters to worry about. He rubbed the cross absentmindedly and tossed another garlic clove into his mouth.

Through a scream of wind, Weldon heard the slow crunch of plodding feet. A man materialized through the clouds at the end of the street. A bent and gnarled walking stick plunged into the snow-covered walkway. An equally twisted and bowed man gripped the old stick. Only the spiked wood plunged through to the muddy base seemed to keep the man from blowing away. His hat brim held fast like it had been nailed to his head like a horseshoe. 

“You him then?” asked the old man.

“I’m Weldon Boniface III,” Weldon said.

“Father?”

“Almost-Father.”

“Almost-Father?”

“Well it’s not official yet, but I have taken oaths. A little more time and I will be sent to watch over a town of my own.” 

“Looks like almost-too-young-to-be–out-without-your-parents’-permission might be a better title,” said the old man.

"The Goddess Queen: The Rys Chronicles Book II" by Tracy Falbe

Incapacited by magical weapons, Shan taunts the Kezanada Overlord sent to kill him...

Despite his injury, Shan would not yield to the killing blow like a paralyzed rabbit. Growling out his pain, Shan struggled to his feet. He could not hope to flee in his condition but he would face the Overlord bravely.
 
“Onja’s footboy to the end,” Shan sneered.
 
The Overlord gnashed his teeth behind his mask as the insult grated his ego, but Shan’s parting jibe fueled his anger and would add to the pleasure of killing. Holding the magic sword that Onja had so conveniently given him, the Overlord promised himself he would never let it go. He would bring Shan’s head to Onja and then strike her down too, making the Kezanada the supreme force in all the world. 
 
“The end of all rys starts now!” the Overlord bellowed triumphantly, bringing back his sword for a decapitating blow.
 
Shan clung to his dignity and faced his executioner’s blow. His mind was surprisingly clear and free of regrets. He knew the next world waited, as it always did.

"Tech-World Explorer" by Jason Moore

"In the real world, the white robed scientists walked into a giant room with software engineers who are working on something very big and top secret as they watched all that was unfolding. They were teaching the computer to learn and adapt as events unfolded inside the Simulator. They were also working on a new programming language that meshed ordinary words with computer routines to create things on the fly. 

This computer language would allow real-time processing of ordinary language into an on demand programming tool and resource used by the person speaking out loud. This was still highly experimental. On another monitor connected to a mainframe, both scientists and computer engineers watched as the machine learned on its own and generated complex code and algorithms as events unfolded in world."

"Among the Little Fishes" by Ethan Cobb

Easton, a hero looking to become a “Super” Hero enters the classroom of Dr. Winters, suspected Villain “Dr. Disaster”:

Easton knew Dr. Disaster was the only first-rate villain any second-string hero could get to. These days there were too many “Super” Heroes and not enough “Evil” Villains. Where was another sadistic clown or bald maniacal real-estate agent when you needed them? Only last week two heroes sped to the same bank heist, arriving at the same time. The news cameras picked up the action as the two heroes battered each other for the chance to arrest the robbers, while the criminals tiptoed out the back door and escaped.

“Will everyone please take your seats and shut up,” said Dr. Winters. Easton sighed. Dr. Disaster was not considered a true “Evil” Villain and there were plenty of reasons why. He lacked subtlety, poise, and clever monologues.

The classroom dropped silent under the fiery gaze of the professor. His bulbous nose and tight jaw molded nicely with the sharp eyebrows narrowed into a V. His head pulsed red like a teapot left in a furnace all night. Anyone that ferocious looking while teaching High School Chemistry had to be a villain.

"Shadow Sport" by Ethan Cobb

A line of dirt clung to the blood on Ember’s face. Looking up through dense pine branches, the moon was almost overhead, only minutes remained until midnight. The hunters would quit trying to kill him then, but he needed to hide until the final gong from the mansion tower bell. After that, he could find an escape, somehow. One thing at a time, and surviving was first. Sixteen was too young to die. Every ounce of terror drained from his tired muscles over the past two days; now there was only a determination to survive. He knew another of the monsters might appear any minute, but he couldn’t dredge enough feeling to worry about what might happen in several moments. He worried about what was happening now. Any second he was going to pass out and leave himself exposed, with only a mile of forest separating him from the main house. Already, he only had the strength to crawl. His arms shuddered as if each might stop functioning. Ember pressed against the short grass again, avoiding the broken fingers swelling on his right hand.

"Tips for Tailoring Spacetime Fabric--Vol. 2" by "Roger Bourke White Jr."

Tom is introducing himself. Tom is the only living person in New York.

Hello there.

... You can’t be real, but you seem real. So I’ll talk to you. I’m a pretty lonely guy these days. I’m Tom and I’m the only living person in New York. And I have been for three years now.

He looks back at Central Park for a moment, thinking hard, making a decision.

That may change, soon. Especially if I’m starting to see you. You’re a hallucination, of course. There used to be others, real others, I mean, but they’re all gone now ... all gone.

But it’s really nice to have someone to talk to ... anyone.

I’m about to get some dinner, would you like to join me? ... Of course you would. He grins a bit sheepishly for asking the question. Old habits die hard.

I’m probably not making sense, am I? Let me start from the beginning. I have a choice to make ... I’ve always had it. The question facing me now is ... do I want to give that choice up?

He laughs. Well ... that didn’t sound like the beginning, did it? But it is. Now let me start at something that sounds like a real beginning.

From "Survivors' Dreams" by Kaylan Doyle

Prince Helrazr, called to defend his planet from invading alien forces, prepares to launch his fighter from the starship:

Shoving aside hatred for the critical next step, he pressed fingers against his lips. One breath pulled deep, held tight, then Razr laid his head in the depression of his seatback. Waited for the gut-knotting nausea of mind-jack interface.

From "Union of Renegades: The Rys Chronicles Book I" by Tracy Falbe

With the forces of King Taischek, Dreibrand loots a temple to the Goddess Onja...

Dreibrand looked around the inner sanctum of the temple. White columns lined the circular wall, and between the columns, rich frescoes of brilliant color filled the spaces. Each fresco featured a portrait of Onja in various settings. Sometimes she was the aloof Queen on her throne, in others she walked in lush meadows and seemed to beckon the bloom from the plants or she brushed her blue hands across the golden tops of ripening grain. In one pose, Onja stood over a mother and new infant, which immediately disturbed Dreibrand although he realized it was supposed to be appealing. In another portrait, only the starry night surrounded Onja, but no matter what the setting, she always bore the same beautifully indifferent face. 

He counted twelve portraits and in the last space stood a statue instead of a painting. Carved from the blue stone of the Rysamand, her polished form was larger than life, and the glow from the orb on the pedestal reflected on the jewels set in her eyes. 

“What do you think? Are you a believer yet?” Taischek said.

Dreibrand smiled. “No, King Taischek. But the art is quite good.”

From "Tips for Tailoring Spacetime Fabric--Vol. 1" by Roger Bourke White Jr.

Now that he's a prisoner, Hansen finally finds a Harpupon...

Hansen stared across the cell at the Harpupon.

“Alien intelligence, my ass,” he whispered.

The Harpupon was lying against the far wall, inert, curled up, a dog-sized cross between a rock and a potato bug.

For the hundredth time since Tlurg and his Xobon lackeys had brought in the creature, Hansen felt the urge to get up, walk the two steps, and kick it like a beachball—to watch it bounce against the wall, just to break the boredom. He suppressed it.

“Suppression won’t do any good. I felt you think that!” A voice in his head informed him. Hansen felt a thrill. There was a single antenna sticking out from the Harpupon. It was coming out!

“I did. But if you uncurl so I don’t keep thinking you’re a ball, it won’t happen again.”

“You think I’m a ball?”

“Damn straight. You look like one. Do ya bounce?”

The Harpupon thought about that.

“I don’t feel like a ball. I feel like a rock. Something you’d ignore. Why do you think I’m a ball?”

“What the fuck would a rock be doing here in the middle of a bare five by ten cell? You’re a ball.”

From "Rostov Rising" by Roger Bourke White Jr.

Ifrit Zaneem is telling the history of Ifrits and Dragons in the Plane of Fire...

“Tell me more about Queen Almidahl,” I said to Zaneem.

“When we Ifrits first came to this plane, she was First Guardian of the Red Dragons. It was she who led the Dragons against us when we first sought to make a home here.

“At first they hurt us grievously. We lived as furtive beings on the edges of the realm and many of our kind did flee elsewhere, as the Dragons wished. But with time those of us who stayed became stronger and adapted to this realm, so that we not only became immune to Dragon breath but came to enjoy it! Ah … I may not be able to experience the joys of the heart that you and the Queen discussed, but you cannot experience the joys of being bathed from head to toe in Dragon flame.

“After that change came about, we Ifrits found ourselves seeking Dragons out. They could still hurt us if we were not careful, but we would bait them to breathe on us, then scamper away. Those who now live in the city went one step further: They captured young Reds and trained them to be pets. There are now many in the city."

From "The Speed of Darkness" by Sarah Baethge

“Thank you wolf-man; I’m sure you got some better name than that, but that’s all you are to them now… You really shouldn't have…” he said, turning back to the window.

 

“What would you have had me do instead?” Eric said angrily as he backed away. He had not set out to be a hero; but he had certainly expected at least a little gratitude. “Look, anyone who had even a little bit of decency would have objected to what they were doing.”

 

“Objected? “ Nigel said as he let himself fall back onto the couch, looking at Eric as if he were an idiot. “There’s a difference between objecting and throwing yourself into the path of an oncoming bullet. You realize they know now what you are?”

 

 “Let them go ahead and try to tell anyone about me! Who’s going to believe them?” Eric laughed, dismissing Nigel’s fears as he confidently turned his back on the window view of the other men. With utter calmness, he started to his bedroom for clothes.

 

“Just sit on my couch a bit,” he called behind himself, “they will just leave, and it will all be OK.”