Ever since I picked up a copy of Path of Fate by Diana Pharoah Francis a few years ago, I have been a fan of this author. I had no idea this book existed until last Saturday.
There I was, innocently putting new Sci-Fi books away in the front list section of our store and darn it if the “P” authors weren’t out of order. Being the perfectionist I am I couldn’t let that slip and immediately started straightening and re-alphabetizing the books. Lo and behold! Bitter Night sat, lonely and out of place, on the shelf, begging to be bought.
I am not one to ignore a book’s pleadings and so I bought my copy as soon as I was released from work and brought it home. I am so glad I did.
I love urban fantasy. Vampires, werewolves, gun-toting strong supernatural protagonists, the whole scene. I usually get my romance fix along with my love of fantasy. This book throws out the vampires and werewolves, keeps the gun-toting supernatural protagonist and adds so much more.
Shadowblades, Sunspears, angels, witches and more. This world explodes onto the page. Fresh and yet familiar, I’m hooked.
Max, the protagonist, has built in conflict. She wants to kill her boss but she is compelled to protect her boss. Her boss loves Max but needs Max tough and independent. Max is restricted to operating during night time and is separated from her human family. but she is surrounded by a new supernatural family that she is blind to. And who doesn’t love a character who loves their weapons?
The pacing is quick but not rushed. The romantic interest(s) are not Alpha Males in the tradition of most romance novels. They are, of course, to-die-for good looking and strong and capable but they are also willing to follow where Max leads and show their softer side. This is refreshing and attractive.
My one complaint is that this story only serves to introduce the players. We find out who the big bad is, who the heroes are, and who are potential obstacles. We see glimpses of a huge apocalypse on the horizon but not much more. As I approached the end I kept flipping the pages trying to figure out how so many plot threads can be wrapped up in so little time. The answer is they can’t.
And so I wait, patiently, for that next book to be completed and make its way to the shelf in my store. This time it will be I doing the begging, begging for it to appear. Pleading with the writing and publishing process to take less time, just this once.
Because I want to know what happens next.
