An interesting recounting of the events that occurred in the Gévaudan region of France between 1764 and 1769 where someone, or something, slaughtered over a hundred people, mostly women and children.

Was it a beast? A wolf? A were-wolf? A murderous lord with an interest in training exotic beasts? Or something else?

The truth is, we don't know, but Romero and Schwalb put forth some compelling arguments based on recorded documentation such as letters, eye-witness accounts, newspaper articles, and forensic reports. Focus is also given to the use of media (many consider the story of La Bête (the Beast) to be the world's first media sensation) and the socio-political situation in the region.

The authors walk the reader through the events of those three years and use fictionalised accounts to help the reader visualise the events and gain a better sense of the societal fear that gripped the region.

I really enjoyed the writing style and format of the book, although I do appreciate that it does often read more like a PhD. thesis than a popular non-fiction text.

Most fans of werewolves will have heard of the Beast of Gévaudan so I definitely recommend this book to them as it gives some nice historical context to the myth.

This is well-written and well-researched book. 

By looking at the overall picture (as well as specific situations) Milman paints a comprehensive picture, albeit it a very bleak one, in regards to the state of insect biodiversity and biomass and the effects it will, and already is, having on the environment and ecosystems.

It's a good read and I definitely feel motivated to increase my efforts to encourage polinators into my garden via my plant choices.

I'm not really sure how to describe the short stories in this collection of sapphic horror by Sara Century other than to say that they take the reader down dark and sinister paths that only grow in intensity the more you think about them.

I recommend this book to fans of horror, especially those who prefer their horror to  focus on the relationships between people and the shapes they can take.

Thank you to WeirdPunk Books and Sara Century for giving me a free digital copy of this book in exchange for an honest review. 

I've always had an interest in cryptids and the people who believe in them, but I'm not a believer myself, more like an optimistic sceptic.

When it comes to books on cryptids, I prefer those that at least make an attempt to follow the scientific method and consider all possibilities before pointing to the fantastical. This book doesn't do that. It's completely focused on anecdotal stories and personal experiences. 

The author not only believes in dog-men, bigfoots, and other cryptids but shares their own stories of encounters with bigfoots.

The author presents their interpretation of information as "common sense" and "obvious" when it is more often just a lack of imagination on their part.

For instance, in a story of a companion being hit on the head by a thrown object, the author presents the scenario as obviously pointing towards a creature throwing something at the man despite the fact that the man was "violently shaking" a tree at the time. The possibility of the object falling from the tree is never considered.

Despite this, the book is interesting in looking at the Appalachian region and the types of cryptids - mostly dog-men and bigfoots - that are believed to exist in that area.

This book is a collection of non-fiction and fiction narratives written by Dominican women.

All manner of themes are covered with a strong focus on identity, culture, and family.

The texts often felt like little love letters to the Dominican Republic, Dominican people, and the Dominican way of life.

That said, this collection is accessible to people from all backgrounds and experiences. You may, like myself, need to google the occasional phrase or word if you don't speak Dominican Spanish.

I thoroughly enjoyed the stories within, and the glimpses into the lives of both real and fictional Dominican women opened my eyes to a group of women I honestly had not previously given much thought to.

I highly recommend this book, but it was definitely not easy to find locally (Australia). Fortunately, I was able to read the ebook via Everand and my local library purchased the physical book for me.

I love nautical horror, and I love Antarctic/Arctic horror, so a story set on a ship in antarctic waters was immediately of interest to me.

I liked a lot of the concepts and ideas behind the story, but I found that their implementation didn't really work for me.

One thing I found awkward about the story was how I frequently found myself feeling uncomfortable with how characters were portrayed. I suspect that the author wanted to include a diverse range of characters, but it often felt out of place, poorly done, and occasionally problematic. 
By chapter seven, I had to google the author because their handling of the BIPOC characters was just so incredibly clunky. 
I was not at all surprised to discover that they're white.

I think the author genuinely meant well with their representations of race but I definitely feel that they needed to have a sensitive reader go over their draft and help guide them away from using stereotypes and to help them address racism within the narrative in a considerate and authentic way.

l found the use of medical personnel within the story incredibly odd, too. Initially, it felt like there were none on the ship since a character is involved in an accident involving an unknown species and doesn't get seen to by any medical personal despite a doctor having been mentioned earlier. Plus, the lack of appropriate quarantine procedures was also difficult to accept, especially considering that it's a scientific research vessel. 

There's also some weird daddy/daughter subtext stuff like the father being weirdly preoccupied with his daughter's sex life in parts and her being glad that her dad knows that she's having sex with another member of the crew and musing on it whilst actively engaging in sex. I really didn't get the relevance or necessity of that.

The ending was also abrupt. I would have liked the final chapter to describe the events on land instead of having it cut to a character explaining what happened.

I first read this book a few years ago whilst I was in a reading slump. 
My partner, having already read it, suggested I might enjoy it. I was sceptical at first since we rarely ever like the same books, but the novelty of reading a fantasy noir was enough to convince me to give it a try. 

And I'm so glad that I did!

The Sword-Edged Blonde is a wonderful mix of pulp noir and fantasy. Bledsoe manages to merge two seemingly disparate genres together to create something new and refreshing. 

The story's greatest strength lies with its protagonist, Eddie LaCrosse, who just happens to be one of my all-time favourite literary protagonists. 

Eddie is a fully-actualised character from the start - he knows exactly who he is, bad and good - and his age affords him a sense of maturity that makes his character far more relatable to me in my mid-thirties than the usual younger fantasy protagonists.
Even the minor characters have gravitas about them that make them feel like fully formed characters even without much (or any) background or introduction. 

I find Bledsoe's storytelling style to be really enjoyable, and the fantastical twist on the private eye trope is good fun. 

I definitely recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a new spin on an old trope.

This was an extremely insightful and informative read. Due to the academic format and frequent citations, it wasn't the easiest or smoothest read. However, this wasn't a hindrance to my engagement with the text.

The subject matter is both intriguing and challenging. 

Williams-Forson shows how food is inextricably linked to the Black experience and how food availability, food security, and food biases have played, and still play, a massive role in systematic racism towards Black Americans.

This book has challenged me to look at both my overt and implicit biases towards a range of food topics, and I have finished it with a more informed and intersectional perspective than the one I started with.

"Africa Risen" is a brilliant anthology of science fiction and fantasy tales written by authors from Africa and the African Diaspora.

There are 32 individual short stories that span a range of human emotions and experiences. 

Going into this, the only author I recognised by name was Tananarive Due. I'm happy to say that I now have several more authors to keep an eye out for in the future.

Generally, when I read an anthology, I will enjoy some, but not all of the stories included. In this case, I can honestly say that even when I didn't exactly enjoy a story, I still felt it was worth the read. 

I would say the lowest individual story score I would give is probably 3.5 stars, but the average story score would be around 4.5 stars.

I feel strongly that (most) people will walk away from this collection glad that they took the time to read it.

As for the narration, I can not fault any of the narrators or their performances. This is by far the best narrated collection of stories I have heard in a very long time.

"Africa Risen" is a brilliant anthology of science fiction and fantasy tales written by authors from Africa and the African Diaspora.

There are 32 individual short stories that span a range of human emotions and experiences. 

Going into this, the only author I recognised by name was Tananarive Due. I'm happy to say that I now have several more authors to keep an eye out for in the future.

Generally, when I read an anthology, I will enjoy some, but not all of the stories included. In this case, I can honestly say that even when I didn't exactly enjoy a story, I still felt it was worth the read. 

I would say the lowest individual story score I would give is probably 3.5 stars, but the average story score would be around 4.5 stars.

I feel strongly that (most) people will walk away from this collection glad that they took the time to read it.