I find myself reading less and less of the fantasy genre these days, in large part because I am spoiled by the good fantasy authors and saddened but the glut of bad writers prevalent within it. There are some standbys that I continue to go back to every time, big names like Jordan and Goodkind and Martin, but rarely will I stumble on a new fantasy author that I feel belongs in their august company. Patrick Rothfuss was one, but I think every fantasy fan was hit by lightning when The Name of the Wind came out. It would have been hard to miss it.

Now that I've read Best Served Cold, a book that is by no means a quick read, I am ready to add another name to the short list of must read authors adorning my brain canals. Joe Abercrombie is that good, and Best Served Cold, while not perfect (and I'm guessing not even his best work), is the best fantasy book I've read since Wise Man's Fear.

The story features a battle hardened mercenary named Monza who is betrayed by her employer, a would-be king, and left for dead at the bottom of a mountain (she was thrown from the top). She survives, through a miracle and through a tenacious and near supernatural need to stay alive, and vows revenge on the seven men in that room who stood by and watched her tumble down and down to the bottom of those heights. The book follows Monza and her growing list of companions as they travel from country to country tracking these men down and attempting to kill them in evermore ridiculous fashions. The book reads almost like a continual heist film, but instead of robbing a bank (which they actually kind of do), they're killing men. Every character is well developed, every plot twist believable, and the entire story comes together in a way that most novels are unable to do. It's the kind of story that I think will stick with me, even if it's stand-alone, and the name Monzcarro Murcatto is probably one I won't soon forget. Her wrath is terrible, and I'd surely not test that.