Alex Bledsoe

And now time for something totally different. Long Black Curl isn’t a book I would have normally picked up on my own, and not least because it’s actually the third book of the Tufa sequence. I don’t usually like to jump onboard mid-series, but two factors made me decide to make an exception. First, I was told this book can be read as a stand-alone, and second, I’ve been hearing all these great things about it, which got me curious.

Now I’m so glad that I decided to give it a shot. I show more suppose Long Black Curl is technically an urban fantasy, but it’s certainly unlike anything else in the genre that I’ve ever read. When I think about the typical setting for a UF, I picture big cities or built-up metropolitan areas. The setting of the Tufa, on the other hand, is a remote valley nestled in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. We’re talking the rural south, a land of gorgeous peaks and ridges upon ridges of pristine forests. But it’s also a land of no indoor plumbing, dirt roads, and where bigotry is still very much alive.

It’s an interesting world. There’s beauty, all right, but also a whole lot of ugliness. It’s also where the Tufa make their home. No one knows exactly where they came from before they settled here, but for generations they have lived in the quiet hills and valleys of Cloud County, passing on the their stories and traditions in the form of song. Music is a huge part of their lives, and an innate part of their identity. To be cast out of their community and stripped of their ability to make music is one of the worst fates imaginable, but this is exactly what happened to Bo-Kate Wisby and her lover Jefferson Powell, the only two Tufa to have ever been exiled.

Now Bo-Kate is back, and she is angry, bitter, and determined to take over both tribes of the Tufa, which means taking out the two leaders Rockhouse Hicks and Mandalay Harris. Her secret weapon is Byron Harley, a famous musician from the 50s who went down in a plane crash but did not die, trapped instead in a faerie time bubble for the last sixty years. Bo-Kate hopes that Byron will help her by taking advantage of his desire for revenge, and for a while she seems unstoppable, until the rest of the Tufa decide to seek out a secret weapon of their own: Jefferson Powell, Bo-Kates old boyfriend.

Anyway, that’s the brief description of the book. What’s way more difficult is putting into words the feelings I got while reading it. The first thing that struck me about the story was how atmospheric it was, seemingly evocative of so much more than meets the eye. Reading about the Tufa was like walking through a veil into another realm. And it’s not just the nature of the setting either; reading about some of the things that go on in this small community (especially those perpetrated by one of the Tufa leaders Rockhouse) are just so hideous and beyond the pale that convincing myself that this is some faraway fantasy world becomes easier and less traumatic to accept. Furthermore, because the Tufa are such a closely knit group, everything that goes on within their ranks – like internal politics or scandals, for example – feel so much more personal, making the emotions cut even deeper.

What I loved the most though, was the music. Creating it is an art form I find both mysterious and beautiful. And to a non-musician like me, it even almost seems like magic. Alex Bledsoe pretty much takes this concept and runs with it, so that music to the Tufa is in fact the source or their magical power. Songs become more than just a way to communicate ideas; they become a means for them to affect the world around them. Music is also a part of the Tufa shared heritage, something that links the community together and gives the individual a sense of identity and belonging. Of course, I’ve seen music used as a magical device in fantasy novels before, but Bledsoe’s handling of it is one of the more unique examples I’ve seen so far, despite—or perhaps because of—the abstractness in its execution.

Needless to say, I enjoyed the book a lot, and something tells me I would have liked it even more if I’d read the previous two before I tackling this one. Long Black Curl worked absolutely fine as a stand-alone, but I think the extra background information would further enhance the story, adding more context to the Tufa characters and all their complex relationships. I’ve gone ahead and added the first book The Hum and the Shiver to my to-read list, because this is a very special series and I would love to go back and read more. Highly recommended. show less

ORIGINALLY POSTED AT Fantasy Literature.

Audio version

Ah, the combination of Alex Bledsoe (the author), Eddie LaCrosse (the hero) and Stefan Rudnicki (the reader) — it doesn’t get much better than that!

Burn Me Deadly is the sequel to The Sword-Edged Blonde, which I adored, and since Mr. Bledsoe has been picked up by Tor, I’m guessing I’m not the only one who felt that way. I’m happy to report that I enjoyed Burn Me Deadly even more than The Sword-Edged Blonde. Mr. Bledsoe’s got a show more good thing going here and I think his success results primarily from three factors:

1. His writing style is consistently clear, spare, and straightforward. There is no feel of a conscious attempt to be stylish, yet there are occasional beautiful insights and figures of speech (especially Eddie’s similes) and a splash of grim humor. This style works perfectly with the first-person voice and noir style of these books — just the facts, ma’am.

2. His hero is mature (not an angsty teenager) and naturally likable. Eddie LaCrosse is just a normal guy. Well, he’s actually from a minor noble family, but this is almost irrelevant so far. (I’m not sure if Mr. Bledsoe plans to capitalize on Eddie’s connections later, but if so, thankfully there’s no foreshadowing.) Eddie’s got some serious skills since he worked as a sword-jockey, but he doesn’t have any magical powers or instruments, or any sort of prophecy, destiny, or hero complex.

3. His plot is quick, exciting, tense, and realistic. There are no foreshadowed events or ridiculous plot contortions to get characters in the right places at the right times, and the things you think you see coming don’t come. You often feel like you’re reading a straight crime novel (in a different world), until suddenly there’s a god or a dragon. Also, nothing is prettied up. Sex happens, torture happens, swearing happens, murders happen. Not in an Abercrombie shock-value kind of way; just in a real-life kind of way.

Those three things make for a terrific original fantasy, but add in one more factor — Stefan Rudnicki as the reader in the audio version — and you’ve got something that goes beyond. Rudnicki is always a wonderful reader, but this part was made for him. Not only does he have the perfect deep gruff voice for noir, but he also pulls off female characters quite well. Kudos to Blackstone Audio for recognizing this obvious pairing.

If you listen to audiobooks, you absolutely must choose that format for The Eddie LaCrosse Mysteries. If you don’t listen to audiobooks, it’s time to start with The Sword-Edged Blonde.
Read more of our Bledsoe reviews at FanLit. show less

It’s 1975 in Memphis, Tennessee, and Alex Bledsoe returns with his Memphis vampires for a novel filled with fast cars, rock and roll, and steamy southern nights. Baron Rudolfo Vladimir Zginski has his eye on a car, and not just any car. He outmaneuvers a good old boy, Byron Cocker, to buy the 1973 Mach 1 Mustang of his dreams. Cocker is a former sheriff of some renown, who doesn’t appreciate being cheated by anyone, especially foreigners.

Cocker is determined to wrest the Mustang from show more Zginski, but Zginski has other worries. Life becomes more complicated when Patience Bolade, who poses as a folk singer, enters the scene. Zginski and the two young vampires he’s taken under his tutelage immediately recognize another vampire has entered their territory.

One of the infamous Bolade sisters, Patience has a history of her own in the form of a blood feud with her sister Prudence, also a vampire. Prudence has vowed to destroy Patience and anyone who stands in her way. Zginski, Leonardo, and Fauvette, soon find themselves drawn into the sisters’ feud with some surprising twists and disastrous results.

Bledsoe really hits his stride with his latest novel of love and betrayal amongst the undead. The pacing is superb and just when you’re sure you know how the plot will unfold, Bledsoe gives it a twist to keep you engaged.

Bledsoe’s characters are portrayed with layered personalities so that every scene reveals their inner struggles in more depth until you’re caught up in their lives and loves. Patience Bolade’s transition from dying woman to vampire evokes mystery beneath a full moon and remains the novel’s most poignant scene. Leonardo grapples with racism and his own motives as he seduces his latest victim while Fauvette tries to find her place in the world and Zginski’s life.

Zginski remains as repulsive as ever, unrepentant racist and misogynist — and those are his good qualities – but towards the end, Bledsoe gives you a clue that Zginski isn’t quite all that he seems, either. While the younger vampires seek to emulate their mentor’s stoic old world mentality, Zginski finds his humanity reawakening in ways that surprise even him.

Bledsoe ties it all together neatly and doesn’t miss a beat with either plot or prose. He serves up vampires for adult readers, so if you’re looking for horror with verve, check out The Girls with Games of Blood. show less

This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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WHAT'S WAKE OF THE BLOODY ANGEL ABOUT?

I looked up at the stars. Finding one pirate after twenty years was a lot like picking one star out of this sky. Just when you thought you had it, a cloud slid by and you had to start all over when it passed.

Yet that's just what Eddie LaCrosse sets out to do—find the unfindable, track the untrackable. For those of you who don't know—Eddie lives in a fairly standard fantasy realm, and makes his show more living as a "sword jockey"—what we'd call a P.I. in our world. These books are first-person narratives and read a lot like good detective novels—but with swords, horses, and the occasional dragon or whatnot.

Eddie doesn't go alone on his search for a pirate—he brings along his old friend/colleague, Jane Argo. Jane's a former pirate turned pirate hunter turned sword jockey and is as tough as that résumé suggests. Having her come along on this adventure as the Hawk/Joe Pike figure was a great addition to a series that I didn't think required it. But now, I want more of her—back in Eddie LaCrosse #6, or in Jane Argo #1. I could be pleased either way, as long as it's soon.

A KILLER LINE
Every now and then, in the middle of this fun read, Bledsoe reminds you he can do more than tell a fun action story, and drop a sentence, or phrase that shows he's just a good writer, period. One such line that stood out to me, and I've tried to find excuses to use in the last couple of days is:

Hawk's been called many things over the years, but you know what captures him best, in my opinion? That he's simply a shiver looking for a spine to run up.

You get a real clear idea about this Hawk guy, the image is pretty creepy in and of itself, and yet, it looks and sounds breezy unless you think about it. I like Eddie and the rest of his world plenty—but it's that kind of thing that keeps me coming back to Bledsoe.

What I found interesting as I re-read what I wrote years ago is this very line. I'd completely forgotten it in the intervening years, but when I heard it, I mentioned it to a coworker and at least one family member, and even tweeted about it. It struck me as a perfect line in 2014, and it did the same again in 2020. I clearly have a well-defined taste and will probably rave about it the next time I read/listen to this novel.

THE PARANORMAL
The last thing I can think to note is that this book briefly features the creepiest little girl I can remember since Let the Right One In. I really can't talk about her without ruining too much, but let me just say that absolutely loved the way that Bledsoe used her. And no, I'm not going to talk about why I mention her under "The Paranormal."

For a Fantasy series, Bledsoe is very careful—almost stingy—with his use of magic and the paranormal. But when he uses it? It's so effective. We get just a few incidents of it here and I love watching the choices Bledsoe makes regarding them.

THE NARRATION
Obviously, as it was over 6 years ago that I read the book, I could be wrong about this, but I think that Rudnicki's narration added another layer to the novel, and it struck a deeper chord with me. It's not like I didn't enjoy the book when I read it, but listening to it seemed to be more effective. I attribute that solely to Rudnicki. He just does a great job not only with Eddie, but with all the other characters—Jane Argo and the last new character we meet in particular.

SO, WHAT DID I THINK ABOUT WAKE OF THE BLOODY ANGEL?
There's adventure, piracy, sword-play, banter, friendship, and a bit of betrayal. That's pretty much what you want in a novel like this, right?

Bledsoe did a great job of nailing the life of a ship (says the guy who gets too seasick to even contemplate a day-long voyage)—both the tedium of day-to-day and the excitement of boardings (or other adventures at sea).

I couldn't have seen the ending coming, nor the details it revealed. But it worked, it absolutely worked both as interesting plot development, and as strong character moments. So well done.

I've only got one novel in this series to go, and I'm excited to get to it, but I don't want things to end. That's a good place to be. show less