Not so animated men

Cyborgs #1-#3
Eve Langlais
paranormal, sci-fi, genetic engineering
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
(17 Sept. 2016)

The cyborgs started out as human, people with lives, love and family. Then their country changed them. Made them in to something different and wiped their past. But they can't take away how they feel. In C791, Joe starts a revolution and brings his people together to find answers. What he finds instead is love. Poor F814 thought herself a robot, defective and unique among her kind, until a cyborg teaches her how to live again. When a geeky cyborg meets B785, a robotic princess, circuit boards sizzle.

I never finished book 1! I got 25% through where there was an interesting twist but not sufficient to keep me reading. When I realised that there would be nothing more that ultra alpha males and fighting and….


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And they fight for Charlotte

Charlotte's Army Book Cover Charlotte's Army
Patty Jansen
sci-fi, military,
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
(7 Feb. 2015)

In a far future, a fleet of ships hurtles through space on its way to a distant war. Aboard the ships is an army of artificial human soldiers, highly trained and dangerous. Doctor Charlotte West, the neuro-technologist responsible for the soldiers’ artificial brains, travels in the support fleet. Two months before the arrival at the war site, the soldiers start fighting each other and disobeying commands. When they are brought in for tests, Charlotte finds that all seven thousand men share a pathological obsession with her.

In this novella we encounter an army of clone warriors. The ultimate warrior it would seem. And Charlotte has them all under her spell – and it would seem in her bed too…

Clones it would appear are emotionally linked as well looking alike. So copying cells and DNA must also have an effect on their minds.

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Where does reality end?

Shadow Memories Book Cover Shadow Memories
Nicholas Erik

When private investigators Kurt Desmond and Cassie Atwood find 10,000-year-old cave paintings hinting at human civilization’s shocking origins, they're immediately thrust into the middle of a millennia-old conspiracy. But these secrets aren’t meant for their eyes, and as the pair pursue the truth, they discover that exposing the actual story of humanity's origins might also lead to its destruction.

Out of options, and with the walls closing in from all sides, Kurt and Cassie must ally with those who have hidden the truth in order to save the world from those who want to expose it any cost.

So there were these bounty hunters slash PIs - only what they hunted and retrieved generally weren't worth very much - starting with a fish eating dog - who was rejected by its owner once returned...

 And then one of these bounty hunters was an ex-thief which meant that he had a skill worth money to several people. But technically he had reformed and so only took (semi?) legal jobs when flat broke.
 Which he was. So he took the job. Strange though it was.

 A nice clean style of writing. Short chapters written from the ex-con's viewpoint. The atmosphere comes through clearly with nice expressions.

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Compendium: the Conspiracy Continues

Book & Author Details:

The Compendium by Christine Hart
 (The Variant Conspiracy Trilogy, #2)
 Publication date: July 13th 2016
 Genres: New Adult, Romance, Science Fiction


Irina and her renegade variant friends are scrambling to pick up the trail of their former employer, Ivan, and his globally catastrophic scheme. After strategically sharing their story with the media, the group heads south from Vancouver to Seattle hoping to recruit more experienced—and lethal—variants to their cause.

Their attention develops a laser focus on an engineered disaster mere days ahead of them. Ivan is using what staff and resources remain of Innoviro Industries to set off a violent earthquake in San Francisco. While they fight to stop the earthquake, Irina pushes the love of her life Jonah as far away as she can, trying to keep his unstable genetic degradation in check.

Irina’s friends think they’ve seen the worst that Innoviro could bring forth by the time they reach a secret facility in the Mojave Desert. As they near the property, the group uncovers a horror none of them had ever imagined.





Located on BC’s beautiful West Coast, I write from my suburban Burnaby home staring at North Vancouver’s iconic Coast Mountains. I love writing about places and spaces with rich history and visually fascinating elements as a backdrop for the surreal and spectacular.

In addition to my undergraduate degree in writing and literature, my background also includes corporate communications and design. I am a current member of the Federation of BC Writers and SF Canada.

When not writing, I have a habit of breaking stuff and making stuff – in that order – under the guise of my Etsy alter-ego Sleepless Storyteller. I share my eclectic home and lifestyle with my husband, baby daughter and preschool son.

Author links:


As I got closer to the evergreens, I saw glints of red in the spiky leaves and tiny spindly pods on the branches. Flies buzzed around the plants and I saw one of the pods open like a glistening green mouth. A fly landed inside and the mouth snapped shut. I shuddered as I contemplated the size those little mouths could be if they grew proportionate to the rest of the seedling.

I turned around to the desks in the corner. No longer bare, one was occupied. A balding man sat in front of a computer with his back to me. I walked as quickly as my vision self could manage.

The man typed furiously as I came around the desk to face him. He was older and slightly overweight with a ring of straw blond hair on an otherwise bald head. He looked up at the door behind me and frowned. I turned around to see Tatiana and two men enter. I recognized one of the men from Innoviro, but the other was a stranger. Both wore plain slacks and golf shirts. Tatiana wore her typical pencil skirt, buttoned blouse, and stilettos combination.

The bald man stood to greet Tatiana and his height struck me. The man was tall, even while slouching. In spite of his height, he looked defeated, dominated by the displeased look on Tatiana’s face. She opened her mouth and the scene evaporated. I was back in the dim empty version of the warehouse. I regained my focus to find everyone staring at me intently.

“It was a greenhouse. They were crafting weird plants. And Tatiana showed up. She looked grouchier than usual.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples to better concentrate. “The guy sitting at this desk was responsible for the place. I think Tatiana was about to give him hell when my vision ended.”

“Did you learn anything else? See anything else?” asked Ilya, leaning towards me.

“So all we know now is that this was some kind of variant grow show.” Faith swooped her arm at the empty basins.

“Did you see any printed material? Anything with a name or an address?” asked Jonah.

“The guy at the desk had an ID badge clipped to his breast pocket, but I couldn’t make out anything on it,” I said.

“So, have we made any progress at all?” said Cole. He rested his hands firmly on his hips.

As my friends started to argue about the chances of successfully tracking down any Innoviro activity, I opened and closed each of the drawers in the bald man’s desk. I reached the top center drawer and a plastic-sheathed card slid forward. The bald man’s face looked up at me next to bold print, Dr. Kingston, George T.

I picked up the card and the angry voices beside me were silenced. I stood in a lush meadow watching Dr. Kingston survey a small field of bizarre plants. The carnivorous evergreens and their giant mouths loomed over teal blue ferns with pearl flowers. A glass and screen enclosure held large colorful bees that shimmered as though bathed in a slick sheen of gasoline. It looked like an alien planet, surrounded by BC’s steep coastal mountains.

A portable plastic table behind Kingston held specimen jars with plant fragments and a stack of pizza boxes with RIVERSIDE PIZZA HOUSE printed in bright red letters. I moved to step towards Kingston and a hand grabbed my arm, pulling me back to the North Vancouver warehouse.

“What happened? Why did you–,” I stopped.

Jonah lay unconscious on the ground.

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Laugh until the tears runs down your face!

There aren’t many books that make me really giggle and laugh with tears running down my face whilst reading – but several passages in several of the Chronicles of St Mary’s books by Jodi Taylor had this effect on me.WTFUNIQUEsmartfunnyPAGETURNERmust-read
Truthfully, I find her a very refreshing author who writes in a such a fast- paced, clear and funny way that you find yourself really being able to visualise the events as they are occurring to her combatants and the unfortunates who encounter them and thus get embroiled in their mishaps.
There are currently 6 books about the St Mary’s crowd and 3 short stories. It is best if you try and read them in order – including the short stories, as then you can follow the very convoluted lives of the inhabitants of this ‘history observed in real time’ establishment. Please please never say the dreaded words – time travel – they do go backwards to historical events – but to observe only and then correct the history books! They are historians after all – well some of them are. Some are the security squad who are required to protect these historians when they get into scrapes.
Some are the research geeks who want to see if some of the recorded historical science is viable. Now this can really get them into trouble – especially with swans who live on the lake in the grounds who get rather irate when they are turned blue or their lake is set on fire! They also need a technical squad to maintain the ‘pods’ which are definitely NOT time travel devices – and of course computers geeks, house maintenance, cooks to feed those with hearty appetites but not much discrimination of taste; and the admin staff to ensure that budgets are adhered to and funds are applied for and all the other stuff necessary to keep St Mary’s operational; and lastly, but very essentially, the medical staff to treat the various illnesses, accidents, and general body repairs required after the historians have been observing in real time.
So I thought I would just make you laugh and rather than reviewing the books as such I am going to give you some tasters of what I think are the funnier paragraphs. Just short excerpts.
 Excerpts from various books - not in book order!
Should you find yourself in a quiet back alley somewhere, it’s well worth checking around. There’s bound to be a pod and two bickering historians nearby. Wave if you like!
They wouldn’t have noticed if Napoleon’s army had swung through on their way to Moscow, singing the 1812 overture scored for full chorus, 21 cannons, and a tambourine.
At this hour I can assume the two of you are up to no good. Whatever it is, I want to be included.
I was as highly strung as a violin on steroids – which would be a cello I suppose.
Teenagers are inarticulate, acne-ridden lumps of inert matter. The only way you can induce movement is by trying to separate one from its mobile phone. And ..then the only way you can stop it attacking is with rhinoceros tranquiliser. is a complete mystery to us. We have no idea whence the cabbage smell emanates. We have, in the past, constructed new pods and the next day we are overwhelmed with the aroma of cabbage.
I don ‘t know if other people’s swans can do this but I swear ours an go up a forty-foot beech tree faster than a banker can collect his bonus.
She said nothing in a manner that conveyed volumes.
I said nothing in a manner that I hoped conveyed my complete innocence.
She said nothing in a manner that conveyed her disbelief in my complete innocence.
I said nothing in a manner that conveyed my hurt at this lack of trust in me.
I however, was grateful that my boots would be based on the conventional design and not related, in even the smallest way, to anyone’s testicles. And there aren’t many jobs where you can make that statement.
For some time, he was considered the world’s first tabloid journalist ...until was discovered that what had been regarded as a particularly imaginative bit of reporting, concerning giant Persian ants who dug up gold dust as they excavated their burrows was true after all...
I do know that here at St Mary’s where the concepts of mouths shut and heads down (unless Professor Rapson was in the vicinity of course) was virtually unknown, he stood out like a small golden nugget in an assembly of politicians, bankers and estate agents.
 We regarded him with all the dismay of a politician who has suddenly remembered the existence of the electorate only tem minutes before the polls close.
Suddenly, everyone was at their oars and we were ready for the start of the race – a traditional St Mary’s demonstration of entropy – from order to disorder. In the words of the song ‘Nobody does it better’.
Believe it or not there were rules. Everyone needs rules. After all, how can you break what doesn’t exist? Rules give anarchy something to aim at.
After a great deal of wriggling through the snow on their bellies, they made the simultaneous discovery that they couldn’t feel their todgers. I didn’t even want to speculate on what they were doing to make this discovery......were rushed to Sick Bay..and when I eventually got to them, they were sitting on a table, carefully immersing their affected members in pint beer glasses filled with warm water.
The last time I went out with you, you nearly lost an arm. Try to take a little more crae this time. It took ages to wash your blood out of my hair.
Getting things done at St Mary’s is a bit like elephants mating....there’s frantic activity at high level. There’s screaming and stamping. A lot of dust is raised. Nothing happens for two years and then you’re crushed by the result.
I’d never seen anything like it. The curtains matched the bedcovers, which matched the cushions – always a sign of a diseased mind.
[i] [Note to readers, these comments do not apply to her other book The Nothing Girl which is not intended to be funny in any way and will be reviewed at a later date.

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