No doubt about it, Stray Souls was a fun, fast but dense read, an urban fantasy exploration rife with British and topical humor, mostly about the self-help movement. Which is, depending on your mood, either a strength or a weakness. Choose your timing accordingly.

Sharon is working as a coffee barista at a job she rather hates. She's been making do, sharing a flat with two roommates and reading self-help books for encouragement. Mantra of choice: "I am beautiful. I am wonderful. I have a secret." We meet her as she first rents St. Christopher Hall from the vicar, and then opens the inital meeting of Magicals Anonymous. We meet Rhys, an almost-druid with allergies; Kevin, the hypochondriac vampire (not that there's anything wrong with that); Sally, the banshee who needs to use a whiteboard for conversation (her voice drives humans insane); Mrs. Rafaat, who isn't at all magical but knows something is wrong with London; Chris, the non-confrontational exorcist; Jess who turns into a pigeons; Gretel, the gastronomic troll; and Mr. Roding, who seems to be aging fast enough to become one of his own necromantic subjects.

It turns out Mrs. Rafaat is spot on; spirits are disappearing in London. The Lady Greydawn is missing, and since her role in the city is to help maintain the division between seen and unseen, the gates to the unfriendlies are open. The Mayor of Midnight wants Sharon and Magicals Anonymous to find her and her over-large dog. To do so, Sharon will need to develop her shaman skills under the tutelage of a goblin (the world's second [or third] best shaman), and Magicals Anonymous members will need to face their individual barriers to take action.

Clearly, such a cast of characters is ripe for fun, even if it feels a little like "X-Men: Island of Misfit Toys." There are two problems with the misaligned alliance, one of which Griffin mostly avoids, and the other less successfully. First, when writing a semi-spoof, it's a challenge to maintain the balance of funny and tension, especially when your plot line involves evil and murder. For the most part, Griffin successfully balances the two, a rare feat in urban fantasy. A supernatural quad of hired killers and a wendingo in disguise prove frightening, with just a touch of comedic. Second, if care isn't taken to add character dimension, a composite cast risks becoming stereotypes, or even worse, single-note props. Rhys, Mr. Roding, Gretel and Sally turn out to be interesting people. Jess and Chris are less explored, mostly serving to round out the team, and Kevin becomes the one-note character. I was somewhat annoyed by Kevin's characterization at first, because it was clear Kevin was supposed to"be comfortable with his sexuality, even if the rest of the world wasn't," and really, it was such a stereotype. I became slightly less annoyed as the running joke was framed around vampires/blood, contagion and hypochondriacs, but then returned to annoyed because characterization never went beyond. Much like those skits in Monty Python--funny for the first three minutes, less funny at minute eight and a half.

Plot generally moved steadily, and largely avoided wandering off into too many side stories. However, it was sadly compromised by a multi-voiced narrative that included just about everyone in the cast, including murder victims and supernatural killers. The transitions were rough, especially at first, but I was accustomed to it by the end. While narrative switching does serve to help round out characters and perhaps add a little plot tension, it really needed to stick to fewer characters to be more effective and maintain congruity.

Writing style feels like Douglas Adams on a poetic day. Dialogue is frequently in monologue bursts sans punctuation, in keeping with the style of characters that are uncomfortable taking center of attention, even in their own lives. Then there are moments where poetic-like style intrudes, a voice focused on cadence rather than structure. It is especially used during magical or emotionally tense scenes, perhaps using form to capture nebulous feeling. I didn't particularly mind it, and think it's a useful technique to describe something as vague as magic or a feeling of disquiet. However, I mention it because it has the potential to drive both lovers of punctuation and concrete details batty. A sample passage, with spacing identical to the text:

"A single iron staircase let up to a fire escape whose door was drifting shut behind the man, and there was something here, something...

Missing.

...which she had no better name for.

She stood on the cracked concrete of the yard, and looked up at broken windows, at walls with crumbling mortar, where even the graffiti artists couldn't be bothered to paint. She saw the yellow lichen flaking off the bricks behind the stair, smelt raw sewage from a neglected gutter, saw purple buddleias sprouting from a crack in the wall.

Missing.

A thing missing here.

She put her hand on the stair rail and felt rust, sense the metal warp and hum beneath her step, thought she heard voices a long way off, and bit her lip and climbed."

Then there's the other side of Griffin's writing style, the phrasing that reminds me of Douglas Adams' lovely narrator voice with its matter-of-fact sarcasm/oddball metaphors. It must be the fabled British sense of humor, which I first encountered in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which, come to think of it, is likely why he's my reference point. At any rate, my first page marker went in on page 25 when I read:

"She threw herself upwards in a single motion, not so much an act of strength against gravity, as a moment of pure intimidation in which the forces of nature considered their adversary and decided it wasn't worth kicking up a fuss."

followed by a member summing up the strangeness in the city:

"'So... you're experiencing hollowness, emptiness, doubt, despair and a great sense of wrongness,' she clarified, 'but you can't exactly say what it is. Have you tried acupuncture?'"

But then there were moments of fine descriptive, atmospheric writing:

"There were shadows here trying to be seen, but afraid to go that final step and be perceived."

Then quickly back to the silly:

"'Nice? Nice? Magic ain't supposed to be nice. You want nice, go look after baby penguins at the zoo!'
As career advice went, Sharon had heard worse."

But silly often works. A confrontation with a Big Bad by phone using the verbage of self-help along with a modified 'pass-the-message' game had me laughing out loud. Pacing was strong enough that I didn't want to put the book down, despite the variety of voices chopping the story up into small chapters. Overall, it was a fun read, with re-read potential just to appreciate the wordplay and absurdities. I'll definitely check out the next in the series.

Re-read January, 2017. Even better than I thought the first time around. ( )

Brilliant book ( )

Even though Kate Griffin is writing this sequel series in the same universe as that of Matthew Swift (Midnight Mayor, electric blue angels, sorcerer of Londn) she tells a starkly different story within the magical confines of London through the medium of Sharon Li, shaman (in training). Unlike Swift, who is a lone wolf at heart, Li's shamanic nature urges her to seek out a tribe, creating eventially the self-help group (of sorts) for those of a magically afflicted nature. As expected with any support group, she is inundated with the strange, the almost, the trouble of London's magical community, which ends up being extremely effective as a means to the storytelling. Each strange and unique character provides somehting necessary to the story, whether it is the unwitting brute force of Gretel (a bridge troll with a penchant for takeout), the comedic sarcasm of Kevin (a germaphobic vampire), or the unexpected ralling point of Rhys (a hay-fever plagued almost-druid). Alongside Sharon this motel crew is tasked with finding the disappeared Lady of 4am (Greydawn), whose Dog is plaguing the city in revenge, and with taking on a green-driven wending who has learned to play on the money-driven nature of London's financiers. We have some interactions of the Midnight Mayor, because being within London and being another of the magically inclined he has unwittingly become part of Sharon's tribe, but it is undoubtedly Sharon's unique force of will that drives this story. I won't reveal the outcome, but let's just say that we're very much looking forward to the next book in the series (and feeling a touch sad that there are only two books...) ( )

This one was a little harder to get into for me than the Matthew Swift books, but I promise it's worth the effort! ( )

I picked this up on a semi-whim and largely because it’s an accidental life goal to read every urban fantasy set in London ever. It was pretty good overall and if Griffin hadn’t made a few character choices that had me sighing loudly, I’d be continuing with the series. It’s light but creepy, keeping whimsy and humour well-balanced with darker stuff, which is what I’ve come to think of as the “good London UF vibe.” Think Neverwhere with a touch of Strange Practice.

Griffin’s a good writer on multiple levels. She does some really neat things here with points of view and chapter structures, and has that arch British tone I love so much. She’s also really good at character voice, getting the London sound right, and I loved the cast of oddballs she created, who have attributes you don’t often see and which are at odds with themselves. A troll who likes Thai food. A druid with allergies. That sort of thing. Just about everyone’s sweet and adorable while still being rounded or relatable, and even the bad guys are kind of overblown and silly. And there’s a good bit of casual racial diversity too.

As for plot: it felt fresh and reasonably original and went to expected places through unexpected means. There was a bit too much harping on certain topics, some of which I’ll touch on in a second, which slowed things down for me, but overall, that gets a decent thumbs-up too.

But. Well. I get that this is a slightly older book and awareness of diversity issues wasn’t as much of a thing as it is now, but still, I feel like Griffin could have made different choices. There’s a variant of that “anonymous pair of hitmen who finish each others’ creepy sentences” trope, slightly played for laughs like everything else, except that they keep naming female body parts and male sex acts. She wanted a scary but unusual villain, so chose something First Nations and then changed core aspects until it was basically just a demon. (She did this with banshees too.) There’s a vampire who’s health-conscious to the point of germophobia and everyone calls him OCD.

As red flags go, none of those are horrible, I know, but they still made me annoyed with the story and lowered my enjoyment enough that I can’t rec it. It’s another of my “wish it had been better” reads, because, like I said, so much of the book hit the spot for me. And yet….

Warnings: Sex-based slurs and casual misogyny doing double duty as creepy and funny. A non-Native wendigo and a non-Irish banshee. Conflation of germophobia with OCD.

5.5/10 (was a 7 before the warnings kicked in) ( )

Fuck yeah, Sharon Li.

Hats off for a heroine in an urban fantasy who's genuinely dealing with all the crap of being a little (just a little) left of centre as a young city woman, with the friends and the lack of job and the lack of guy and crazy shit happening but like hell is she going to be belitted, condescended at or led around by the nose. Hats off for a heroine who isn't white-as-white-can-be, who doesn't kick arse so much as shoulder into her powers and rearrange reality, who doesn't have a big, burly, swoony love interest (love ya, Rhys), and who is so very, very real.

Because Sharon is so down-to-earth and dealing with the unbelievable, this has a more comedic, light-hearted touch than the adventures of Matthew Swift (though, note, the Midnight Mayor is a recurring support character, and it's delightful to see him from other points of view). There are certainly Pratchettarian overtones. But it retains that "this is soul-charringly serious, mum" element that gives Kate Griffin's work such satisfying weight and resonance. I found the combination not quite as delicious as I do Matthew Swift alone, but still highly entertaining and very nicely put together. ( )

Nancy Pearl'd it. After about 100 pages, I just couldn't find any reason to continue reading this. ( )

I know the majority of readers liked this story, but I just can’t find the appeal in it. I found the very short chapters to be disjointed, especially since the narrative of the main character, Sharon Li, is interrupted by several other characters telling their stories. Perhaps if the dialogue had been more cohesive and less choppy, the story would have flowed better. I know there is a decent plot there somewhere – it is just so buried among the bits and pieces of what passes for humor and eccentric story-telling that I gave up looking for it. ( )

Very short chapters

which is an odd writing style

It's not even as if we're following that many characters.

In retrospect it would have been better if I'd realised this was the start of a linked series mid-way through an already developed universe. The best bits are probably the character profile sheets where various magic users who are having difficulties with their lifestyle introduce themselves.

Otherwise it's a reasonably generic urban fantasy, although most of the characters don't know what they're doing. An embattled mayor has found some allies in his struggle against a creepy bank that seems to have trapped one of London's key guardians. His allies come about through a facebook self help group, founded by one Sharon Li, who didn't know she was a shamen until someone told her. She spends quite a bit of time berating people who assume she knows what that involves.

It was enjoyable, and there are some great bits of descriptive text, clever similes and well worked metaphors. But the juxtaposition between those and the choppy paragraphs didn't really work for me.

Maybe I should have started at the beginning of the universe (if the publishers had deigned to indicate this), but if it's all this choppy I doubt I'll bother. ( )

One day, for one moment, Sharon Li knows every thing about her city. It's too much for her mind to handle, so she forgets, but the experience leaves her with the unsettling ability to walk through walls or become invisible. A fan of self-help books, Sharon decides to start a support group using a facebook invite. This is the start of Magicals Anonymous, a strange mix of creepy (a necromancer constantly in search of new skin-care products, who measures his magical output in the body mass index it takes out of him), odd (a banshee in love with modern art, who communicates with a white-board to avoid killing everyone), pitiful (a druid who is allergic to magic) and annoying (Kevin, the vampire who can only drink O blood and is hysterical about germs). My absolute favorite character was Gretel, who started out as a troll scaring the cars who passed over her bridge, but who was lured out by the smell of human food. After Sharon discovers that a financial company has been enslaving spirits and using them to manipulate the markets, this rag tag bunch of oddities is forced to save London.

This is set in the same London as the Matthew Swift stories (which start with [b:The Madness of Angels|1358915|We Heard the Angels of Madness|Lisa & Diane Berger|http://d.gr-assets.com/books/1348466968s/1358915.jpg|1348677], and are wonderful) and the magic systems continue to be creepy, amazing, and incredibly creative. This series spends much more time being funny, sometimes at the expense of the plot or the pacing. I really wish the characters' punctuation-free rambles had been shorter and less "naturalistic" (by which I mean, characterized by lots of "likes" and "he's all" and stream-of-consciousness), because so many climactic moments were spent with characters making witty slang-ridden speeches instead of doing anything. ( )

Anyone expecting another Matthew Swift series will be disappointed. The tone and writing is very different in the Magicals Anonymous series. In a way I prefer it - the chatty, informal style matches well with our main character, the wonderful and self-help-guide driven Sharon Li, and the series feels less 'doom-laden' than Matthew Swift, which makes the inevitable brutalities more effective. ( )

Anyone expecting another Matthew Swift series will be disappointed. The tone and writing is very different in the Magicals Anonymous series. In a way I prefer it - the chatty, informal style matches well with our main character, the wonderful and self-help-guide driven Sharon Li, and the series feels less 'doom-laden' than Matthew Swift, which makes the inevitable brutalities more effective. ( )

I've not yet gotten far into the story, but I'm howling at her hesitant near-magical misfits. The story itself is a bit disjointed, but those descriptions are well worth the entry.
okay, finished.
Griffin is one of the rare writers whose books are almost impossible to put down. I only stop at night when my eyes cross. This is a very different book from the first Matthew Swift story. The main character seems to determine the layout, the tone and the descriptive flow. That represents quite a strength in a writer of novels. We see an entirely different side of London from Sharon Li's perspective. Her tribe of misfit magicals are stunningly funny.
The villain's questions and curiosity about human motivations and emotions is a bonus. ( )

Set in the same magical London as Griffin’s Matthew Swift novels , this novel skilfully introduces a cast of low powered or inept protagonists, giving a new and exciting perspective on the city.

The plot focuses on Sharon Li, a newly awakened shaman and self-help book addict, and the other members of Magicals Anonymous, a support group for those who have issues with integrating the magical and the mundane. When the spirit of London disappears ancient feuds and political struggles prevent Swift or other established powers from directly investigating, so Sharon is given the task and the rest of MA are drawn in.

As with the Swift series, the plot contains many real challenges without losing the feeling that magic is both powerful and close.

Unlike some urban fantasy series containing more than one supernatural species, Griffin manages to include several of the standard creatures of legend and types of magicians without either losing plausibility or requiring complex explanations.

As well as the core challenge of recovering the spirit, the book portrays the mundane challenges of being magical but not a power: Sharon struggles with a low-wage job to make the rent on a shoddy flat even before her schedule is disrupted by the need to save the city.

Although Sharon is the lead protagonist, other members of MA are equally fleshed out, both directly through their involvement in events and by short chapters in the style of Alcoholics Anonymous testimonies detailing their issues. Some of the characters have the potential to be slapstick, for example a hypochondriac vampire who wants to sue for adequate dental services; however, Griffin makes their concerns seem real issues and so the humour, when it comes, only serves to highlight how dark their world is.

The villains of the book are equally well developed. The non-human threats clearly have very inhuman mindsets but also have backgrounds and desires that caused me to understand, and even sympathise with, some of their actions.

This is clearly written to be the first book in a new series so does not resolve all of the sub-plots; however it does bring each of them to a natural rest point.

It is also set in the world of an existing series and so obviously runs the risk of either over-explaining to established readers or under-explaining for first time readers. Griffin seeks to address this with the trope of inexperienced protagonists and I found myself sympathising with their search for answers without cursing needlessly unhelpful background characters. As I have read the Swift series I am unsure whether it would lack clarity on its own.

I enjoyed this book thoroughly both for its plot and its vivid descriptions of urban magic. I recommend it to any fan of either urban fantasy or magical systems.
( )

Actual rating: 3.5 stars ( )

In a sudden, overwhelming rush of light and noise and music and emotion and knowledge, Sharon Li becomes an urban shaman. And just like that, it's gone again. But Sharon Li isn't one to wait on the universe; as a yoga-deep-breathing, self-help-reading, blue-haired optimist, she decides to take her problems to the internet. She sets up a Facebook group ("Weird Shit Keeps Happening to me and I Don't Know Why But I Figure I Need Help,"), which quickly becomes the Magicals Anonymous self-help meeting. Once a week, misunderstood necromancers, art-loving banshees, hypochondriac vampires, gourmand trolls, and hay-fever-hindered druids gather in a circle of creaky folding chairs and introduce themselves to a chorus of "hello's", then tell their stories to a sympathetic, tea-drinking audience. But Sharon and her motley crew aren't left to talk out their problems in peace. Souls are being stolen from the city, the Midnight Mayor can do nothing, and only an urban shaman can bring back balance. It would be a lot easier if all those supernatural monsters weren't after her, though...

Hi, I'm Carly (Hello Carly) and I'm addicted to urban fantasy.
So, yeah, I know there are worse things I could be addicted to--Starbucks coffee habits take a bigger bite of your budget--but it's becoming a real problem. See, I crave the stuff with originality and creativity and whimsy and imagination, and they're increasingly hard to find. Fortunately, Kate Griffin is here to feed my habit with stories chock full of urban magic, toothpaste-chomping goblins, and ninja builders. The light-hearted, quirky character of the book is reflected in its structure. Its short chapters, which tell Sharon's story from the third-person perspective, are each emblazoned with a vapid self-help platitude ("One Door Closes, Another Opens", "Reflect But Do Not Dwell Upon the Past", etc). These are liberally interleaved with mini-chapters in which each character introduces him/herself in extremely colloquial first person. I really enjoyed the structure; it might be a bit gimmicky, but the choppy chapters do a wonderful job in tempering Griffin's rather elaborate stream-of-consciousness prose and are an excellent fit for the mood of the book. As someone who hears character voices in my head, I found that the conversational style and slang brought the characters to life.

One striking difference between Stray Souls and the Matthew Swift books, Griffin's previous series, is the overall tone. While the Matthew Swift books have a tendency towards earnest moralisation, Stray Souls is far lighter. Griffin doesn't try to leverage tragedies in the plot to delve into deeper moral issues, which I think provided a better fit for the eccentric characters and farcical scenes. Unlike the desperately unhappy Matthew Swift, Sharon Li is a very cheerful person, as she should be--she certainly works hard at it. Sharon is an inveterate self-actualiser; she practices deep breathing, repeats a catechism of self-encouragement to herself in times of trial, has a tendency towards evening classes and the self-help section of the library, and almost always attempts to be "nice." Most importantly to me, unlike the ever-isolated Matthew, Sharon is indeed a people person, and quickly collects a coterie of quirky sidekicks who may or may not be more trouble than they are worth; as she puts it,

"Along with a bleeding druid, a wailing vampire, a toothpaste-addicted goblin, a gourmet troll and a socially inhibited banshee, not to mention there's this confused sorcerer who is not as much use as he should be, plus there's a hundred pigeons to round up. And if that weren't enough, my social life is a mess, my job prospects are nil, and I haven't got a boyfriend."

From a quick glance at the reviews, I seem to be in the minority in liking Stray Souls as much or more than the Matthew Swift books, and the difference of tone seems to be a major flaw for many readers. The book still involves a relentless killer stalking the streets, but for once, the adventure isn't littered with the bodies of dead comrades (dead yes, comrades no). As someone who dislikes reading books in which the characters that I have emotionally invested in die horrific deaths, if someone has to die, I strongly prefer redshirts. Personally, I think Griffin has hit her stride: the less intense human tragedy better matches the whimsicality and creativity of the world that she creates.

The only major flaw, for me, hover for spoiler was the characterisation Matthew Swift. Swift, the protagonist of the earlier series, has become an avatar of the city and is now too powerful, too static, and too inhuman to be the main protagonist. While I applaud Griffin's decision to change focus, I don't think she quite succeeded in relegating him to the background. To limit Swift's involvement, Griffin made him both impressively incompetent and irritatingly cryptic. If you compare his pathetic excuses with his comments in Midnight Mayor, his hands-off policy is horribly hypocritical. Although I understand the story's need for such contrivances, I found him frustratingly rude and inept and found my emotional investment from the previous books quickly dissolving. My sense of alienation was accentuated by Griffin's tendency to refer to him as "The Midnight Mayor" or "the sorcerer" rather than "Matthew" or even "Swift"; I am always rather startled by the dehumanising effect of withholding a name. This book takes place after the Matthew Swift series, and while I would initially have recommended Midnight Mayor as a prerequisite to even understand what is going on, I'm not sure anything will make Matthew comprehensible. (NOTE: if you choose to read this before the Matthew Swift books, Griffin doesn't provide recaps, so here are the Cliff Notes:hover for spoiler Honestly, Matthew Swift comes off as an utter pillock, and now I'm dreading that the next few books will be Swift's journey from Annikin to Darth Vader--I can't quite believe that the personality switch is just the effects of seeing him via third person. hover for spoiler Maybe I just like the angels better than Matthew. I admit that I greatly enjoyed his presence: Swift has an almost Miles-Vorkosigan-like tendency to "happen to" people and I found myself laughing at the other characters' varied reactions to him. One of my favourites:

"'Is that something to do with us, Mr Swift?'
'You know, Mrs Rafaat, I think it might be.'
'But all that glass! That's going to cost a fortune to replace.'
'That's what makes me think it might be something to do with us.'
'Do you think everyone is all right?'
'Well, personally I find massive symptoms of architectural destruction a rather positive indication.'
'That's because you're incompetent, sorcerer.'"

All of the characters--including Matthew--fall somewhere on the scale between engaging and disturbing, and I warmed to almost all of them. Although some, like the hypochondriac vampire Kevin, were on the stereotyped side, I liked most of Sharon's gang, from Rhys the tech support druid to the gentle troll Gretel. Not all of the magical misfits are exactly pleasant people--the necromancer is a dubious character at best, and I found the surly goblin more irritating than entertaining--but their flaws serve to make them more interesting. I think the book's character mini-chapters proved to be a very effective way of (literally) giving each character a distinctive voice.As usual, I felt quite a bit of unwilling sympathy for the villainshover for spoiler. I quite liked Sharon; outwardly rather ditsy, she is fiercely determined to "be the best she can be," which most definitely does not involve acting as a damsel in distress. Take her attitude on the subject of brow-mopping:

"'You know that thing where the guy gets injured, heroically fighting off monsters and that? And then he gets all romantically feverish and kind of sexily sweaty and stuff? And then there's this girl who sits by him and mops his brow with cold water? I can't be having any of that. I just don't see how it makes any sense, because you know how the girl is usually 'Do I care?' at the start, and by the end is 'Wow I love this guy, he's needy?' I've never seen why I should come over all vapid for needy. Or, in fact, why sweaty is sexy. Sweaty smells.'"

Yet again, the crazy antics creative worldbuilding plastered a smile on my face throughout. Although the book does have a few flaws, Griffin's fantastic imagination makes up for them.hover for spoiler When I finished, I was wavering between 4.4 and 4.5, but the incident with the magical swarm of plastic bags flapping around like malignant jellyfish made up my mind: a 4.5 it is.

So, anyway, yeah, my name is Carly.
I'm naff at tea but I can brew a fair coffee.
So, um, I guess I was just wondering--can I join Magicals Anonymous?
I can bring the mugs.


Note: I received this book through the Goodreads First Reads promotional program. ( )

Kate Griffin can write! Shaman Sharon Li is a wonderful protagonist and a worthy addition to the roster of characters introduced in the Midnight Mayor series. The tone of this first of the Magicals Anonymous series is lighter and less grim than the earlier stories, while still maintaining the drama and danger of Matthew Swift's London of spirits, monsters and the occasional hedge fund manager. ( )

I love Matthew Swift. I love Sharon Li better. This book, set in the same universe as the Matthew Swift books, manages to take a well known urban fantasy trope, and turn it 90 degrees. You still get the motley crew of various creatures, but the support group is an interesting twist. Also, the city having a soul is interesting, rather than the city as a generator of power.

Sharon Li herself is gutsy, but grounded. She doesn't want to save the city, but is the only person who can. Highly recommended. ( )

Meh. Slo literary pace and feel. Did not finish. ( )

Finding yourself can be hard enough for any person, without magical "extras" making you feel all the more isolated and alone. Kate Griffin puts the epic and the mundane side by side in STRAY SOULS. As Sharon's support group gropes for connection in a crumbling city, a terrible magic is killing those around them.

Unfortunately, it was just this snapshot writing style that made it hard for me to get into STRAY SOULS. 100 pages in, Sharon was still a cypher and I resented only getting spare glimpses of the Midnight Mayor and his fight against the Dog. Sharon is a modern hero, armed with self-help books and Google, but I was more than ready for her to grow out of "overly earnest support group leader" into "kickass shaman" by the time she actually started driving the story. STRAY SOULS is a book about misfits, complete with point of view "confessionals" from supporting characters.

I had to adjust my expectation from "Urban Fantasy" to "Hapless British Comedy with Magic" before I could enjoy STRAY SOULS. I loved the dotty powerful characters, Dr. Seah ("...drugs are cool - I mean, like medicinal drugs - they're awesome."), Sammy the Elbow, and Matthew Swift. And as Sharon's patience grows thin and her temper flares, I liked her more and more.

This is a book that I liked despite itself. The narrative style didn't work for me, but almost against my will I found myself laughing at Griffin's relentless humor (The Dog's confessional, "Howl. Howl. HOWL!", was the moment that tipped the scales for me). Fans of Jasper Fforde will enjoy this mix of danger and humor.

Full Review to follow.

Sexual Content: None. ( )

Review courtesy of Dark Faerie Tales

Quick & Dirty: A familiar setting filled with new characters, but has a few distracting qualities.

Opening Sentence: It was raining when Sharon Li became one with the city.

The Review:

Stray Souls by Kate Griffin is a new series set in a similar London as the Midnight Mayor series. Magic and paranormal beings are a norm in this world, complete with new characters in an urban world. I was a fan of the Midnight Mayor series, so I couldn’t wait to dive into Stray Souls. The synopsis drew me in, filling my mind with ideas of what could take place in this new series. And the cover? Guys, the cover is eerie and captivating at the same time.

Sharon Li is a barista and a shaman. With a tendency to walk through walls, Sharon attempts to deal with her issues with the city and advertises on Facebook for a group. She starts a support group for the paranormal, magical beings with problems and issues of the like. Matthew Swift, otherwise known as the Midnight Mayer talks Sharon into saving the city. Sharon has quickly realized that her support group and herself is the only thing that is able to help the city soul from being destroyed.

Sharon is an optimistic character, creating a common place for paranormals. She is a bit of a pushover at first, but that didn’t last long. Once Sharon gained a little back bone, I saw what she was capable of. I was concerned that Sharon would be a main character who got lost in the background, amidst the many other characters in the book, but Griffin knew what she was doing.

The other characters had distinct personalities, and the witty banter was amusing. Sometimes, I felt it was too much too fast. The short chapters that introduced them were interesting, and honestly, I’m not really sure if I liked them or not. Just when I felt the pace picking up, it moved on to a new chapter or a new character. But I will say that the humor is great. It alleviated a lot of the issues that I had and made Stray Souls more enjoyable to read.

Even though Stray Souls is set in a familiar setting, there are elements that are new to me. Griffin describes the city in a different way as well, allowing me to see it a brand new light. The essence of the city is clear and defined. While the Midnight Mayor books had a darker, maybe even more serious tone, Stray Souls has a lighter, more humorous feel to it. Just from reading about the characters and their personalities, you would understand what I mean.

Griffin’s writing style has evolved in Stray Souls. While previously she had written in first person, Stray Souls is written in a third-person narrative. Each chapter alternates from focusing on the main plot and then to a newly introduced character. At first, it is distracting, and I often found myself disconnecting from the story. I felt the pacing was a little slow to start, but quickly moved its way to be on par with the Midnight Mayor books.

Notable Scene:

“Time to go now,” he added. “Time to run.”

Starting at the very bottom of the register, almost too low to almost too high, it grew and grew and it became from the floor to the sky: hhhhhoooowwwwwlllll!!!!

She looked up at the man in the window and there was light in his hands, light on his skin, a brilliant electric blue and he wasn’t human-nothing human looked like that- he was a thing wearing human flesh, he was a face pretending, a body bursting from something else inside, and as he looked round at her his eyes burned and in them were a million million voices all shouting all as one and she…

…ran.

FTC Advisory: Orbit provided me with a copy of Stray Souls. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review. ( )

Review courtesy of All Things Urban Fantasy
allthingsuf.com

Defining your identity can be hard enough for any person, without magical “extras” making you feel all the more isolated and alone. Kate Griffin puts the epic and the mundane side by side in STRAY SOULS. As Sharon’s support group bumbles through their neurosis in a crumbling city, a terrible magic is killing those around them.

Unfortunately, it was just this snapshot writing style that made it hard for me to get into STRAY SOULS. 100 pages in, Sharon was still a cypher and I resented only getting spare glimpses of the Midnight Mayor and his fight against the Dog. Sharon is a modern hero, armed with self-help books and Google, but I was more than ready for her to grow out of “overly earnest support group leader” into “kickass shaman” by the time she actually started driving the story.

I had to adjust my expectation from “Urban Fantasy” to “Hapless British Comedy with Magic” before I could enjoy this book. STRAY SOULS is a story of misfits, complete with point of view “confessionals” from supporting characters. I loved the dotty, powerful characters immediately, Dr. Seah (“…drugs are cool – I mean, like medicinal drugs – they’re awesome.”), Sammy the Elbow, and Matthew Swift. The neurotic members of Sharon’s support group took a lot longer for me to warm up to. As Sharon’s patience grows thin and her temper flares, however, I enjoyed her more and more. But even as the characters started to win me over, I still found myself skimming past most of the social commentary and therapy jargon.

This is a book that I liked despite itself. The narrative style didn’t click for me until about halfway through, and Sharon’s self-help schtick never quick clicked, but almost against my will I found myself laughing along with Griffin’s relentless humor. Where I had to be won over page by page, readers who like a little silliness in their urban fantasy will love this mix of danger and humor unreservedly.

Sexual Content: None. ( )