J.S. Fields

Author & Scientist

Review: Lucky 7 by Rae D Magdon

Genre: science fiction: dystopian

Pairings: f/f (could also be classed as f/nonbinary, the character in question hasn’t quite decided)

Queer Representation: cis bisexual, asexuality, trans, nonbinary

Warnings: none

Review

There’s nothing in the world as good as making a beautiful girl come.

Jacker Elena is on the run from AxysGen after the death of her crew during some ‘illegal’ activity.

Handler Sasha, an operative team leader, just lost her jacker and the rest of her crew in a botched operation. She can’t find a crew without a new jacker, and Elena needs a place to hide, STAT. AxysGen has a hit out on Sasha, too. If any of them are going to survive, they need to be deleted from AxysGen’s databases. And they can’t do that without a jacker. Or Sasha’s crew.

Elena and Sasha must work together to find Sasha’s crew and prevent AxysGen from finding Elena. The deeper they get into the the virtual world, however, the more layers of AxysGen peel away and the more Sasha’s past, including her ex-girlfriend, come back to haunt them.

LUCKY 7 is a fast paced dystopian sci-fi novel that starts with action on page one and does not let up. Unfortunately the action comes at the steep cost of stakes and character buy-in, and the first third of the book is entirely skimmable. The gems of attraction between Sasha and Elena are well done, but do little to progress the narrative forward. Elena’s character is poorly developed, as is her motivation, and Sasha’s ice queen attitude leaves her functionally emotionless.

The book takes a hard right turn at the one third point, with a steamy shower sex scene that breaks through our ice queen’s exterior and gives the reader some much needed emotional interplay. There’s consensual power play here, too, and it is hot as fuck. The book is worth buying for the sex scenes alone (there are three!).

But something in me wants to fight. To push back against her dominance, to show her I’m not just some warm body she can bruise because she hates me. I need her to fuck me, but she doesn’t get to unless I fuck her back.

~~

Somehow, I know I’ll never tire of bringing her over the edge. “Come for me,” I growl into the dip of her collarbone, close enough for her to feel my lips on her skin. “I want you to come for me.”

Halfway through the book changes POVs from Elena to Sasha, and it is at this point that the narrative takes off. Sasha’s POV is rich and complex, and the reader cannot help but be fascinated as she learns about her forgotten past, her relationship with her ex, Megan, and the secrets behind the ship’s AI. With an emotional hook, the storyline and plot pack a punch. The stakes raise, the crew becomes more three-dimensional. You care about Sasha. You root for Sasha. Sasha is the ideal unreliable narrator.

The A plot, of Elena running from the evil corporation, takes a quick backseat to the B plot of Sasha’s origins and the motivations of Megan. The B plot is by far the stronger of the two. Megan is the perfect villain–delightfully self absorbed with just enough humanity to make her relatable. The clone situation is excellent, the AI a delight, and Sasha, again, steals the show.

Another bonus: the representation in the book is phenomenal. Elena is Mexican (with brown skin), Sasha is black, and the richness of Elena’s background comes through in so many fantastic phrases and snippets of history. There is no white default in this book-white people are described via skin tone upon first introduction as much as the numerous people of color.

“If anyone tries to speak to you, let me do the talking,” Rami mutters from the corner of their mouth. “Just give them a white people smile.”

“The close-lipped ‘I acknowledged you, now please go away’ gringo smile?”

“Exactly.”

The trans rep, in particular, really struck a chord with me. One of the crew is trans, but it is the exploration of Sasha’s gender identity that was the most compelling. It is rare to see a true exploration of the nonbinary experience in queer fiction. So much is either a nonbinary person just being a person and having adventures, or being a side character. Sasha’s explanation of her gender, and Elena’s intuitive understanding, cemented their relationship as one of the best I’ve read in lesbian fiction. In a culture where the butch identity was long used as a dumping ground for both gender and gender identity, having one branch explored at length, and with deep sensitivity, was absolutely amazing.

I know from her smile that she’s joking, but my confidence falters. I know what Elena wants, but I’m not sure I’ll be ante to give it to her. I’ve got baggage around sex, around trust, around my body, and although I feel good in my skin tonight, I can’t guarantee she’ll get the results she wants, no matter how hard she tries.

~~

My face heats up. I’ve tried thinking about it that way sometimes, more often before I bought my first prosthetic. Once in a while, it works. Usually it doesn’t. There are aspects of womanhood I still connect and identify with, but my parents aren’t one of them. And even thought I know all too well that body parts don’t make a woman, being touched that way feels…vulnerable. In a good way, on some occasions, but more often in a not-good way.

~~

Once my hands are dry, I consider what to do about my swimsuit. The decision to pull down my trunks is an easy one, but my top is more difficult. It bares my midriff, but keeps my chest fairly flat. The look of hunger that takes over Elena’s face is enough to tempt me out of it. Her dark eyes have zeroed in as I pull it off, and her tongue leaves a glistening line on her lips as she wets them. I’m naked, but thanks to her admiration, I don’t feel overexposed.

~~

It’s a feeling of freedom, of knowing I can fly without the fear of falling. It has everything to do with the face that it’s Elena between my legs.

She’s memorized more of me in a few weeks than other people have bothered to learn in years, and I actually feel comfortable enough to teach her. It’s different. Powerful. A little scary. Bit it’s also all kinds of good, and I know I’d be a fool to give it up. I’m not even sure I can.

You can find your own curvy hacker in paperback here and ebook here. Consider supporting an independent bookstore by buying it here.

 

Double bonus: this scene

“You blew up the front door,” Rami yells back, taking the steps two at a time.

“Because I love you,” Cherry hollers. “Even though you left me in Brazil!”

“How do you run so fast in heels?” I gasp as I stagger down the front steps. I don’t know how Sasha finds all these magical bitches who can run ops in perfect makeup and designer shoes, but if I wasn’t terrified of dying, I’d be jealous.

 

And the best description of this particular flavor of bisexuality to date:

“Not my type, kid. I like pretty boys with long eyelashes and girls who look like they could step on my windpipe with their jackboot and make me thank them for it.”

Review: Peacemaker by E.M. Hamill

This is a review for the second book in a series. You can read the review for the first book here.

Genre: science fiction: space opera

Pairings: nonbinary/f, nonbinary/m

Queer Representation: nonbinary

Warnings: violence, gore

Review

The attack did not stop at nightfall. The sunset truce lay shattered, the hour of the goddess defiled.

Dalí is once again tapped to play negotiator in this action-packed sequel to DALÍ. Recalled from their undercover op by the Remoliad security council, Dalí is asked to look into events related to Ursetu’s emergency petition to join the Reoliad. Their crown princess has died, leaving only the queen and grandson alive. Her death is deemed an attack by the Shontavians–genetically engineered mercenaries considered nonsentient by their creators.

Was it a directed killing or a botched group assignation? Was the Shontavian breeding and engineering facility attacked as well, or did the creatures plan their own escape? Either way, Shontavians are on the loose, a monarchy’s line of ascension is in trouble, and Dalí seems to the only negotiator anyone can agree on.

Dalí, unfortunately, is still battling personal demons. They’re back on their addictive vape, which almost cost a friend their life. They’re still haunted by the murder of their husband and wife. Rage comes so, so easily to them, as does passion. But compassion, both to themself and those around them, is a skill Dalí must learn if they are to negotiate for the royal line and the Shontavian, who are much, much more than they seem.

Fans of sci-fi action, bio-engineering morality questions, and fast pacing will enjoy PEACEMAKER. Readers are thrust directly into the action that does not let up until the end, journeying from mines to addition, to violent fights, to passionate alley sex.

Although technically a space opera, the book paces more as military sci fi, with little time spent on character development (relying on book one’s work) and focusing almost solely on plot. It is for this reason that I failed to connect as deeply with PEACEMAKER as I did with DALÍ. There’s action, yes, and politics, yes, but the heart seemed to be missing that had so entranced me in book one. Dalí doesn’t connect so much as they fight–everything–which is plot relevant but also not a strong way to hook readers looking for sympathetic protagonists.

The biggest emotional connections come from the Shontavians and the complexity of their bioengineering. Their development, history, and mythology are breathtaking both in simplicity and effect. Their training will crush you. Their dreams will destroy you. How Dalí negotiates for them, and their eventual solution, is both perfect and deeply moving.

E.M. Hamill’s trademark humor is still present in PEACEMAKER, though somewhat more buried:

“You get off on this, don’t you?” I accused her.

“I want your body. For experiments, anyway. Shut up and close your eyes.”

And of course, the representation presented by Dalí, of a blend between intersex and nonbinary (Dalí can change their sexual anatomy and hormone profile at will, which drags their gender along with it. This makes them both gender fluid and sex fluid, though Dalí identifies as third gender, and defaults to a sexless state when among friends) is very well done:

In the warmth and vibration, I shuddered as the last of the physical characteristics I’d adapted to pass as male shifted back into my neutral, sexless state. My crewmates didn’t expect me to assume a gender, something for which I remained grateful. Without hormone stimulation to drive the change, the process was more painful, and my shoulders complained against the grind of bone and muscle.

As an intersex person with hormone fluctuations that physically impact how my body showcases my secondary (and sometimes primary) sex characteristics, I found Dalí’s explanations of the hormone surges and accompanying body changes very relatable (though of course extended out for sci fi), and appreciated how the mental gender moved but didn’t necessarily change as a result. For that reason alone, this book is an excellent read. Representation matters, and there is too little in the intersex world, especially at the intersection of intersex and nonbinary.

You can pick yourself a nice genital set and decide some intergalactic ethics in paperback here or ebook here.

Review: Space Unicorn Blues by T.J. Berry

Genre: science fiction: space opera

Pairings: f/f

Queer Representation: cis lesbian, trans woman, asexuality

Warnings: murder unicorns

Review

There was also a healthy contingent of planet bound xenophobes who had never made peaces with the fact that the first aliens humans had encountered were an envoy of talking unicorns who offered to teach them farming.

—

Survey a thousand cultures from throughout the universe and each would have terrifying stories about thin grey aliens with huge black eyes who visited their planet to poke at them. The Pymmie were only a meter tall, but able to control space, time, and matter with alarming proficiency. You could see the intelligence behind their murky eyes, but also a horrifying indifference. They simply went about their grand experiment without concerning themselves with trivial matters like suffering. The Pymmie were not particularly  clandestine with their experiments, the same way that an entomologist would not bother to conceal her presence from an ant.

It’s been one hundred years since the god-like Pymmie brokered a peace between humanity and the Bala–a wide array of fantasy creatures that turned out (surprise!) to be real. The Pymmie promised to return and check in on things right at the one hundred year mark.

That’s only a few days away, and humanity has really, really screwed things up.

Gary is a half unicorn man (unicorns are magical and born in stars. Don’t get gross) fresh out of prison. Jenny is a decorated Reason officer who once held Gary captive and dug into his skull to harvest his horn to power her spaceship. Her wife is also a dryad. It’s complicated.

Unfortunately for all of them, the Sisters of the Supersymmetrical Axiom have had a vision that involves Jenny, Garry, Cowboy Jim (lover of grilled cheese sandwiches and deeply morally grey), and Ricky Tang (morally grey but in a different way, hunter of fortune, trans woman with a killer sense for suckers). Together they have to get a stoneship to the Summit to meet the Pymmie at exactly the appointed date and time, while being chased by Reason officers who want to harvest Gary for parts and trying to rescue Jenny’s wife. In order to engage the FTL, however, they need unicorn horn, and Gary isn’t too keen on letting Jenny back at his skull.

SPACE UNICORN BLUES is the perfect space opera, blending fantasy elements (literally–the Bala are all mythological creatures from Earth’s history, like hippogryphs, angels, unicorns, fauns, etc.) and future tech into a fantastic colonial comeuppance story. In some places grim, in many places hilarious (elf sperm is a natural glamor if you rub it all over your body!), every word packs a punch.

In an interesting style, many parts of the book function like a recap from a previous book (this is, in fact, book one), recounting the history of Jenny and Gary that the reader never gets to see. However, this recap pushes the plot faster than an FTL drive, allowing for sufficient backstory for the character to grow and evolve from the first page.

SPACE UNICORN BLUES shines in the representation department, too: no white default with skin tones, a disabled lead who is not cured (and is fine with it), and queer representation all over the place:

“If you mean Miss Tang, then she’s hosting the game table,”…

“The last time I was here, Ricky was a-“

“A charming host who you will find at the game table,” finished the bartender firmly.

—

Ricky’s face froze. “Oh. Are the legends really true? Unicorns are asexual? My apologies.”

It also gives a soldi study to male privilege, hilarious showcased in an example below:

Ondre launched into a detailed explanation of stoneship control mechanisms. Jenny had learned that while blasting your way out of situations worked middlingly well, the best way to extract yourself from under a man’s control was to pretend you needed his expertise. You could stall for hours with a few well-timed uniformed questions.

White privilege is also called out:

It was interesting to Gary that though the three nations that had come together to form the Reason were ostensibly equal, the officers were almost always pink people.

And, of course, there are quality sex jokes:

“Hey, since you mentioned weather forecasters, what do you call oral sex with a meteorologist who has a vagina?”

“What?” Cheryl Ann looked genuinely curious.

“Cumulolingus,” said Jenny.

and puns! (the one below is a Sister yelling at a birch dryad)

“Move it, birch, or I’ll weave a basket from your limbs,” said one Sister.

There is no reason to not buy this book. None. Adventure, romance, lesbians, unicorns, elf semen… there really is nothing else a reader could want. Grab a piece of unicorn horn and watch humanity get spanked in paperback here and ebook here. Also available in audio!

Review: The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling

Genre: science fiction

Pairings: f/f

Queer Representation: cis lesbian (? could also be bi or pan, not stated explicitly)

Warnings: It’s 414 pages and I read it in one sitting because I was scared shitless. You were warned

Review

Gyre Pierce lives on a crapsack planet run by mining conglomerates. The only real resource are ‘minerals,’ which are buried deep in underground caves scattered across the planet’s surface.

Going into the caves is not an easy task, unfortunately. Alien creatures known as ‘Tunnelers’ kill Cavers at an alarming rate, making cave diving a dangerous–and lucrative–job.

Enter Gyre. Abandoned by her mother and desperate to find her, Gyre falsifies her credentials to take on a high pay and ultra high risk dive. If she survives, she can move to any planet of her choice immediately (and she’s going garden world all the way). If she dies, well, at least she isn’t living in a land of caves and mommy issues anymore.

Gyre expects a crew to assist her remotely, watching while she sleeps and monitoring her vitals in her high-tech Caver suit. What she gets is Em, the solo funder and solo tech operator of the expedition, taking way too many choices out of Gyre’s hands and leading her on a seemingly endless descent down into the bowels of the planet for a reason Em won’t say.

The credits, a chance to find her mother, drive Gyre to keep pressing on. But the Tunnelers are getting close and there are too many bodies in the subterranean caves for Gyre’s liking. And Em is irritating. Really irritating, and makes morally dubious choices, like injecting drugs into Gyre’s system without her consent and withholding information that could keep Gyre alive.

And there are the missing supplies.

The bodies.

The route changes.

And Em won’t let Gyre turn back, even if it means her death.

THE LUMINOUS DEAD is freaky as fuck. Let’s just get that out there. It’s a rich, traditional sci fi tale, with futuristic tech and an alien world built on the income inequity of our own. It’s worldbuilding is deep (pun intentional) and it’s only two speaking characters are richly built and distinct.

The suit tech is particularly well described:

The suit was her new skin, filled with sensors and support functions, dampening her heat and strengthening her already powerful muscles with an articulated exoskeleton designed to keep climbing as natural as possible. She wouldn’t even remove her helmet to eat or sleep. Her large intestine had been rerouted to collect waste for easy removal and a deeding tube had been implanted through her abdominal wall ten days ago. A port on the outside of her suit would connect to nutrition canisters. All liquid waste would be recycled by the suit. All solid waste would be compacted and cooled to ambient temperature, then either carried with her or stored in caches to be retrieved on her trip out.

Also there are bioluminescent fungi with hallucinogenic spores!

“It’s a fungus. Similar growths are all over this system, especially lower down. There are creatures that live in the water in the cavern and somethings they wash up and die,” Em replied. “Up here, sometimes insects fly in. And when the rains come, they wash in soil and everything that’s in the soil. This one’s been there for several months, though, so it’ll probably drain its host soon and die.”

The pacing and reveals are masterfully done. Readers will find themselves hooked from the very first page in the antagonism between Gyre and Em, Em’s mysterious goals, and Gyre’s fuck-all-I’m-going-to-beat-the-shit-out-of-this-cave attitude.

The descriptions are atmospheric, never too long winded, and always chilling. With very little actual antagonism, Starling builds fear and anticipation in the reader mirroring the adrenaline heights and crashes experienced by Gyre. The hallucination sequences are so artful one could easily questions their own sanity (and reading detail!).

The only weak point of the book (though minimal!) is the evolution of the relationship between Gyre and Em. The antagonism worked. The reliance definitely worked. The attraction seemed forced, at the end, and could have used another book to develop. Still, the characters both give solid reasons for staying together and after the weeks of cave diving and near death experiences, it makes sense for some bond to have formed. Readers looking for hot, steamy romance will want to look elsewhere. Readers looking for danger and enemies to lovers tropes will be right at home.

And it isn’t if there is no chemistry. Gyre notices Em right from the start, in fantastic language:

For a moment, Gyre couldn’t think. There Em was again, in full, living color, so different from the flat tones the reconstruction used to help her understand depth and material. It was surreal, mesmerizing to see another person, to see her. She searched Em’s face for any sign of incompetence, but instead, she only saw a focused, hyperaware woman. A beautiful woman, at that.

—

Gyre watched her for a moment, transfixed by the gentle curve of her cheek, the slight parting of her lips, before she realized her heart was fluttering in her chest. Her pulse was quickening, and she hated it. It wasn’t fair. Not only was she–stupidly–considering helping the other woman, even after everything that had passed between them, but Em was just her type. She was smart and driven and beautiful, and so unreachable that she could’ve been halfway across the galaxy.

 

You can get a fancy tech suit and go cave diving in paperback here and ebook here. Audio here.

Review: Compass Rose by Anna Burke

Genre: science fiction – dystopian, pirate, lesbians on boats

Pairings: f/f

Queer Representation: cis lesbian

Warnings: implicit racism in the narrative, racist language not refuted in-narrative or by authorial voice

Review

The year is 2513. The apocalypse came and flooded the Earth. Land is scarce, the navy rules, and most people live on boats, either as part of a naval force or as a pirate.

Rose is a member of the Archipelago fleet (a navy fleet). She’s a big rule follower, clearly likes in-charge women, and doesn’t mind the company of the ladies. When Admiral Comita sends her on a daring mission – to infiltrate the pirate ship Man-O-War, Rose has no option but to accept.

And oh, lesbians. This is the pirate ship of your dreams. It has a hot lesbian pirate captain. It has a ragtag crew. It has danger! Power play! Hot kissing scenes! Seeeeeecrets! Racism!

Damn it.

This could have been the perfect book. And it almost was. God, the chemistry between Rose and Miranda is hot. HOT. Their eventual sex scene will leave you unable to work for the rest of the day. You will. not. recover. There’s political intrigue and beautifully rendered worlds and three-dimensional characters. There are Lesbians. On. Boats. I mean, I literally don’t know what else to ask from a book, except maybe that it check its implicit and overt bias at the door.

So, let’s lay it out, incident by incident.

Our opening scene is Rose being assaulted by Maddox, a large, brown man.

I didn’t have to look far. Maddox’s large bulk towered over me, a bead of sweat dripping from his crooked nose to the floor….Maddox’s chiseled chest glistened in the light of the bioluminescence, the genetically modified algae that flowed through the light tubes of the ship casting blue shadows over his brown skin. I entertained myself with a fantasy of plunging several sharp objects into his over-developed pectorals, but kept my mouth shut.

Unsurprisingly, the skin tones of the white characters are seldom, if ever, noted (our MC is brown skinned as well, which is noted early in the book. Annie, a secondary character, is noted as having ‘dark’ skin. These are the only skin descriptors we get. I am left to assume all other characters were walking skeletons with some musculature, and no skin at all). This is known as white default. But more of an issue is the trope of large, black and brown men, especially very toned ones, being a threat. I could link about this ad nauseum, but here is a good place to start. This is another beautiful article.

So, we started the book off on the wrong foot. Sometimes things get better! Sometimes it’s just the one instance and the rest of the book is fine.

Sometimes it gets a lot worse.

On page 33 (print edition) we get our first racially-charged descriptors.

He had a flat face with a flatter nose, and his dark hair was slightly gray at the temple. The woman beside him was only slightly less intimidating, with biceps that were at least as thick as my thighs.

And I might have ignored it except we don’t get a name for said character right away, and by pg 35 we get:

“Are you a navigator or an engineer?” Flat Nose said with a sneer.

And it continues for several pages. Flat nose, of course, is a racial description for black people and some Asian people. Adding to the flat face makes this a clear Asian stereotype with very unfortunate implications. There are so many better ways to describe people of color that don’t involve radicalized, weaponized descriptors. Writing With Color is always a great reference, and great place to start.

And it’s just…so infuriating because this is otherwise such a monumentally great book! How can you not love a pirate captain who spouts lines like “I could take you any way I wanted you.” I mean, yes, please. Please.

Finally, we have our villain, Ching Shih.

Yup. Not even going to bother with a link on that one.

The fundamental difference between implicit bias and overt bias is that overt bias comes with intent while implicit does not. Not having intent, however, does not absolve someone of the damage caused from racism, whether implicit or overt. The coding, both implied and implicit, of all the major ‘problem’ characters (Maddox is brown, a stuffy, gruff guy is Asian, the biggest ‘villain’ of the piece is also Asian) is a bad trend. Yes, our MC is also brown but with the white default at play, we are still in a very white world, where most of the PoC are villain coded.

And that’s not okay.

So while this book could have easily been absolutely magnificent, and in many ways it was, that doesn’t mean we should overlook the bias, or not discuss it. PoC deserve to have representation in books, and they deserve that representation to be good representation, where they get to play the full spectrum of roles, from villain to hero and everything in between. The queer community has been active for years in discussing queer-coded villains and homophobia. As a community we owe it to our intersectional queer people, and the PoC community at large, to voice our concerns over other forms of bias, not just the ones that affect the white parts of our community.

You can purchase COMPASS ROSE and try to navigate the minefield of bias to get to the freaking amazing sex scene here.

 

 

Keep In Touch

Other J.S. Fields Sites

Good Reads
Patreon

Other Links