Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

A lot happens in this book. So much that the words “a lot” aren’t nearly enough. There is more plot in this book than there is mantitty on our website. You hear what I’m saying? Plot, plot, puh-lot. Lots of it.

Kallista Varyl is a Captain in the Adaran army, an army made mostly of women. She’s a specific kind of Captain, though, as she is a wielder of magic, or naitan, who commands several others like her. Each naitan in the Adaran army has a bodyguard, and we meet Kallista just before a battle, inspecting the perimeter of the walled city she, the army, and the other naitani must defend, and outlining her strategy with her bodyguard, Torchay.

Adara has been invaded by the all-male army from Tibre, a country to the north. While the Adaran army bases its offensive and defensive strategies on the naitani and their abilities, which range from lightning throwing to food spoiling, the Tibrans use cannons and weapons and some big ass guns to attack - a battle between the magic and the phallic.

When the Tibrans attack, they reach 90% smackdown of the Adaran defenses, killing all the naitani but Kallista, and breach the walled city with hoardes of soldiers. Kallista calls upon the One Goddess whom they all worship, demanding assistance and decrying the goddess’s willingness to watch her people be slaughtered.

The Goddess delivers: everyone in the Tibran army is killed instantly, save for one man, a warrior named Stone. And after regaining consciousness, Kallista realizes she has saved the city and the lives of the Adaran soldiers around her- and then realizes that she has been Godstruck, and now bears a large compass rose on the back of her neck. And hello, Stone has one, too.

More importantly, Kallista is now gifted with some serious kick ass magical powers, far beyond the lightning magic she had originally.

It has been more than a thousand years since an Adaran woman has been Godmarked, and this development causes a great deal of interest within the army and within the royal circle surrounding the Adaran ruler, the Reinine. Kallista, Torchay, and Stone are summoned to court to discuss the events of her marking, and to discuss what to do with Stone, and the ever-pesky Tibrans to the north, who will certainly try again to invade Adara. Kallista, Torchay, and Stone, along with Aisse, a woman who ran away from Tibran servitude, are then bound together by the Reineine into an ilian, a polyamorous marriage, before they are sent to Tibre to stop the invasions.

That’s a very, very rough sketch of all that happens in this book, and it is hard to put it down and pick it back up again - one, because you want to keep going, no matter what time it is and how cold the bathwater has become, and two, there is SO much complex world building going on that if you put it down for some time, recalling all the intricacies once you revisit the story will be a challenge. Dayton is possessing of some serious world building skills, introducing the kingdoms of Adara and Tibre with gradual detail, so each seems equally real, but without an infodump overload that would assault the reader. While each kingdom has defined influences, from the femnocentric rule of the Adaran culture to the male-dominated culture of the Tibrans, the reader isn’t hit over the head repeatedly with the differences, so that in the end you recognize the forces driving each culture, and the motivations causing the men and women of each kingdom to act the way they do. Further, the exploration of matriarchal vs. patriarchal societies allows the reader to examine the flaws inherent within each, thus lending Kallista’s ilian, with members of both kingdoms, a curious balance of two extreme cultures.

The characters themselves are also well done. Each member of Kallista’s ilian, and more members are added as the story continues, is an individual character, instead of a facet of one element of Kallista’s character. This isn’t polyamory-as-character-device, where each person would reflect and accent a particular part of Kallista’s personality; each member of the ilian is a character in his and her own right, and as such, the book stands alone well but also leaves the reader looking forward to the second and third books in the trilogy - you want to learn more about the others, and to see what happens to Kallista.

The bravery in crafting a polyamorous romance is not to be overlooked, either: mad props to Luna, Harlequin, and Dayton for publishing a romance that is multilayered, multidirectional, and multi-amorous. The concept of an ilian is more than just a group of swingers, or bi-curious folks all humping one another. The ilian is a family with many leaders, and while there are pairings between some members, there are also couplings that occur across and between the established pairs.

The anchor to the ilian, and the story, is Kallista, and she’s marvelous. Sometimes I wanted to smack her for being stubborn, and sometimes I wanted to jump into her shoes because rwor, there is some hot action for her and her iliasti, but mostly I wanted to follow her like Torchay and the rest of her crew to see what happened next.

There were some flaws to the story that I questioned as the story came to an end, not the least of which is the resolution of the “primary” romance between Kallista and Torchay and the answer to how and why some characters were marked by the goddess and why others were not. The resolution of her relationship hinged on Kallista’s inability to relinquish control, though, and it makes sense for her character to stand in her own way until she wakes up and adjusts her attitude.

To return to my earlier question: is this a romance? Yes - it’s multiple romances, and multiple plotlines, and multiple relationships, interwoven and interpartnered so it breaks some of the rules of traditional romance, but also highlights some of the important foundations: a good story of a well-written set of characters who confront identifiable and dangerous opposition to their commitment to one another makes for a fantastic read, and this hybrid of fantasy and romance treats the reader to a very creative, and very sensual exploration of what fantasy romance can be.

Brighid has become an essential part of the Clan MacCallan. As Huntress, she holds a position of respect within the clan, and as close friend of the Chieftan commands her own share of personal respect as well. It doesn’t hurt that, as I mentioned, half-horse or not, she’s pretty hot.

The Clan MacCallan has been left in a state of upheaval by the events told in Elphame’s Choice, and as this book begins, Elphame’s brother Cuchulainn has journeyed to the Wastelands to bring back the New Fomorians, a group of half-demon, half-human hybrid people whose lives were saved by Elphame. Elphame is worried for her brother, who is in deep mourning for his lost love, killed by one of the half-demon Fomorians. Brighid volunteers to journey to the Wastelands to accompany Cuchulainn as he leads the New Fomorians back to the clan castle in Partholon.

When Brighid arrives in the Wastelands to meet the hybrid New Fomorians, she finds that Cuchulainn is a fragment of his former self, and realizes that part of her assignment, though unspoken, is to lead Cuchulainn back to himself as she and Cu lead the New Fomorians back to Partholon to be a part of the Clan MacCallan.

And that is more than enough for a story, right? But wait! There’s more!

Brighid must also learn to embrace the part of herself that is her mother’s daughter, that is, the part of her that is a High Shaman and has a connection to the spirit realm. Having rejected her herd and her responsibility to follow her mother into the position of High Shaman, Brighid has also rejected the spirit world and tries to resist the signs, messages, and premonitions she receives. Unfortunately, resisting one’s destiny is not easily done.

Brighid’s Quest hinges neatly into two halves: Part One is the tale of Brighid’s first quest: leading the New Fomorians into Partholon with Cuchulainn, and realizing how she alone can help Cuchulainn heal himself from the grief that has literally fragmented his soul. Part Two is the tale of Brighid’s second quest, as she realizes her destiny and tries to find a balance between her new life in Clan MacCallan, and her destiny as High Shaman of the Dhianna Herd.

The unifying element to these two halves is Cuchulainn, the hero of the story. PC Cast has set up quite a challenge for herself, in that it is very difficult to make a hero out of a grieving man who has just lost his love. Often the lost love is too good to be believed, shallow, one-dimensional, or revealed to be evil. Brenna is none of these, and, to make matters more challenging, was a friend of Brighid, who is mourning her loss along with Cuchulainn. But on the journey from the Wastelands to Partholon, which parallels Cuchulainn’s journey back to himself, Brighid and Cuchulainn realize they have feelings for one another, and both must struggle with their attraction as well as their guilt over betraying Brenna’s memory. And all of this emotional acknowledgement has to be managed without turning the reader off entirely, especially readers who are coming from the prequel and who “know” Brenna.

The other challenge is that Brighid, by virtue of being a centaur, well, to be blunt, she’s half a horse! I read this book the first week home from the hospital, bit by bit between feedings, rocking, and figuring out a baby’s nap schedule, and it was really freaking difficult to put the book down and go tend to anything else. Not only is this a wonderfully told story, but dude, she’s half a horse and there’s some serious attraction between Brighid and Cuchulainn, who’s a human, i.e. not half a horse. The possible logistics of the love scene were dinner discussion between Hubby and myself, because, did I mention, she’s half horse?!

I won’t spoil the answer as to how the happy-happy happens, don’t worry.

Brighid’s Quest contained some of my very favorite romantic elements: an emotionally wounded hero who is afraid of risking his heart a second time; heroine who can heal him, though at great personal cost; and a journey that has to bridge two very different cultures - that last one happens multiple times in multiple combinations, between the New Formorians, the Clan humans, the centaurs, the spirit realm, and the Goddess Epona, the ruling deity over the entire group. But even as I frothed at the mouth (ha) to find out how Brighid and Cuchulainn would find happiness and how the New Fomorians would find a way to live with the distrustful human Clan members, I had to ask myself: is this a romance, or is this a hybrid itself?

While there are strong romantic elements to the story, I would have to argue that it is not a romance entirely. It’s more of a hybrid between romance, fantasy, and, if we readers were members of the Clan MacCallan, an epic tale as well. 

My one disappointment with the story is something of a spoiler, so as usual, if you don’t want to know, you know what not to do. Cuchulainn spends chapters struggling with his grief, his feelings of guilt over Brenna’s death, and then further feelings of guilt over his growing regard for Brighid. But when it comes time for him to admit that he cares for Brighid, and that he can choose a future with her, he arrives quickly at a state of acceptance over his feelings and his intentions toward Brighid. For someone who struggled emotionally through the entire first part of the novel, Cuchulainn admitted his attraction to Brighid and acted upon it a little too fast for me, not only because I thought he would have to struggle with it a bit more (and not just because, hello, she’s half a horse!) but also because the shift in his feelings for Brighid and vice versa mark the hinge between parts 1 and 2 of this book, and I felt the transition went too quickly. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there wasn’t quite enough angst for an already angst-filled character. 

The most telling sign of my fondness for this book is that I keep stalling as I write this because my copy is sitting next to me, and if I pick it up to check a plot point or the spelling of a name, I start reading again, even though I finished the book a little over a week ago. I don’t even skim the pages; I start reading it in detail like I’ve never seen the words before. Brighid’s Quest is definitely a combination of several different and equally strong genres, but it also manages to be a hardy example of each one. I could recommend it to readers of romance, or readers of fantasy, with no hesitation.

Unless they want to borrow my copy. Ha. Mine.

Lina, or Carolina, is the owner of Pani del Goddess, a Tulsa-based bakery. She’s quite an atypical heroine, in that she is older (y’all, she’s 43!) and she’s survived the end of a marriage that left her caught between a lack of confidence – her husband left her for a younger, more fertile woman – and a regrowth of her own capabilities. She’s the sole proprietor of a successful bakery using her grandmother’s Italian recipes, and is doing marvelously well until her accountant gives her horrid advice that leaves her deep in debt to the IRS. Facing a great blow to her ego and her bank account, she goes searching for food items to use in an expanded luncheon menu to try to earn back the money she needs and finds an old cookbook in a used book store: The Italian Goddess Cookbook.

Part recipe guide and part spellbook, the cookbook offers several options for Lina’s luncheon menu, and she decides to try out a recipe at home, since, as a proper Italian woman, she’s got plenty of the core ingredients in her home, including good wine. Gotta love a woman who keeps good wine in her home.

The recipe for Pizza Della Romana, or Pizza by the Meter (nice pun there that only becomes obvious in the following chapters) instructs her to light a candle, say some incantations and verses of gratitude to the Goddess Demeter, and leave an offering of dough sprinkled with wine, which Lina chooses to place outside at the base of a tree in her courtyard.

While she completes the recipe, she begins to feel prickles of sensation gathering around her, and as she places the dough at the base of the tree and makes her personal request of the Goddess as per the instructions, a unique flower blooms suddenly, releasing a beautiful aroma that Lina can’t help but sample. As she leans in for one last sniff, she suddenly finds herself sucked into the flower, and emerges in a completely different world, facing a woman on a throne, who tells her she is Demeter, and that Lina’s request is granted, if Lina will complete a task for Demeter in return.

Lina is stunned, and, much to my admiration, not at all cowed by the Goddess in front of her. She agrees to the request: she will inhabit the body of Persephone, Demeter’s daughter, and descend to the Underworld to lend the presence of a Goddess to Hades’ realm. In return, Persephone, Goddess of Spring, will inhabit her body, run the bakery and restore it to financial health, paying off her debt to the IRS in full and tripling profits in six months’ time.

So Lina descends to the Underworld, where she is greeted as Persephone and treated accordingly. Her presence causes a great deal of attention among the dead, who are more than eager to have a Goddess among them, paying attention to them, and listening to their needs. Then, Lina meets Hades, who is more than confused at the presence of the Goddess of Spring in his realm, and finds herself attracted to him – not at all part of the bargain of her visit to the Underworld.

Lina’s interaction with Hades makes up the most marvelous part of the book. Aside from PC Cast’s talent with description and her imaginative rendering of what the Realm of the Dead would look like, her creation of Lina as a mature heroine was a brilliant move. Lina is old enough to appreciate the young Goddess’s body she finds herself inhabiting, but also woman enough to have to talk herself out of feeling sorry for her aged self, and the body she will ultimately return to. She battles feelings of self-pity regarding body image several times, but rather than growing monotonous and eliciting a “Get OVER it already” response from yours truly, I found myself cheering Lina on, and thinking, “Well, now, that’s a clever way to talk yourself out of the my-butt-is-too-big doldrums.”

Further, Lina is also far from being a naïve woman who is clueless about men, and is able to see past Hades’ inexperience in talking to women, especially Goddesses, and view what must be beneath the surface of his often brusque and distant behavior. She looks at his creations in the Underworld and rightly realizes that a man without passion would never have been able to create such a place, or decorate it in such a thoughtful yet profoundly beautiful manner. Further, she is not at all repulsed by his connection to the dead, as most of the other immortals are, and she respects his attention to his duties as Lord of the Underworld.

And if I can remove my wrist from my forehead for a moment and recover from my maidenly swoon (snort!), let me just say, oh, my stars, that Hades. Tall, dark, handsome, enigmatic, dedicated, passionate, and convinced that he is flawed because he doesn’t view intimacy as a disposable item as the other immortals do. He isn’t interested in mere dalliances, because he has witnessed the bond between mated human souls, and covets that love and dedication for himself, even as he knows that no other immortal will likely fall in love, much less fall in love with him.

Ultimately, what makes this book so delicious for me is that everyone, even Persephone and Demeter, comes to appreciate the value of their own lives and the lives of others. Moreover, this is one of those stories based on a theme or myth that I’m already familiar with, and I began to dread how Cast would handle the ending of that myth, with Persephone spending six months in the Underworld, thus creating fall and winter as her mother, who is Goddess of Earth and Harvest, mourns her daughter and sends the earth into temporary death, and then returning to her mother’s side for six months of spring and summer. I, of course, should have trusted Cast that a happily ever after was easily wrought by twisting the meaning of the established myth into one that focuses more on the female powers of both Lina and Persephone. At no time does Lina fall back into a powerless state, which would be easy since she’s a mortal and she’s wandering around in a realm of Gods and Goddesses. She comes to realize her own power and talent, and appreciate the talent – and flaws – of the immortals around her.

The only caveat I have to this book, my copy of which bears a shocking complete lack of marked corners where I signal passages that were jarring or otherwise peculiar for use in my later reviews, was the curious use of product and concept placement. On one hand, the Batman movie franchise is well known enough that using it as a method of describing Hades as a dark, tortured hero is familiar and certainly appropriate. But when an author mentions specific actors – if you find that actor repulsive, does it ruin the book for you? In my personal case, no, but I have to wonder, for example, if I prefer Michael Keaton and you prefer Christian Bale, and the author prefers George Clooney, who you hate, can you enjoy the book without picturing Dr. Doug from ER? Personally, it’s no problem for me, but I am always curious about the decision to locate a book within reality, though when the book is a complete and total fantasy, grounding it with familiar names and concepts might be a calculated and wise decision on Cast’s part.

However, product placement: this is a pet peeve of mine. At one point Persephone mentions a very specific mid-range bottle of wine by vineyard and name, almost like an advertisement. In my experience, unless you’re referring to one of the few singularly great bottles of wine, a Chateau Petrus or Yquem, for example, which is like college tuition in a bottle, few people refer to mid-range wines by their names, unless they’re ordering from a menu. Plus, and this is certainly particular to me, Cast mentions a specific type of wine that has an absolutely annoying commercial that I hear ALL the time on the radio, so to read about it made me think of that irritating, self-congratulatory monologue about the benefits of this particular wine.

However, I will be frank: that is the only negative thing I have to say about this book. I loved Lina, I loved me some Hades, and I loved the subversion of an established male-centered myth into a happily ever after ending for two women, and the creation of a mortal woman who learns that even if she’s not immortal, she and all other women are certainly possessing of the powers of a Goddess.