Silent Sorrow (The Book of Remezov)

Product Information

The Advisory… ah… says nothing about it, sir, said a man in a full-length coat. Cautiously. Not wishing to contradict a geographer.

The maps tore away from the wall, thumping on to her desk along with something else. Something white, big, man-sized. An animal on all fours, scaled, armour-plated. It wriggled, shook itself, then swung its head around and fixed her with malevolent, reptilian eyes.

Another point to note is this novel is the author’s first novel. She wrote this novel in 2010 when she was a University 3rd year student. Her later novels just got better.

He cleared his throat, leaned to his right and spat pointedly into the harbour. The water absorbed his gesture without comment. Remezov? You coming? We still have lectures to attend, and the concert if you have a mind. And we have to clean up. Or, at least I do… Remezov? Remezov! Half a dozen tremblers. Ow! None worth bothering about. Now unhand me or I’ll call for the wardens. Oh, said the girl. "You have a simanarc! Where did you get it? We didn’t sell it to you; I would have remembered."

Silent Sorrow

He had, of course he had. Knew what it was, couldn’t shrug it off. Had to pursue it, Felicev’s tiresome accusations of magic notwithstanding. Eventually he glanced around. No doubt Fel’s rambunctious arse would occupy him for a while longer. Should he risk it? The market whirled around them like a fresh-painted dancer. Sideshows, stalls, spices, smells. Shouts and screams. Gymnasts and singers with their hats on the ground in front of them like begging bowls, barely distinguishable from the real beggars crying for alms in the shadows. Addicts lying unregarded in dark doorways. Musicians scraping and sawing their instruments, squeezing out ear-jarring sounds for a wild, witless rabble. Come on, boys, keep up! she tossed over her shoulder. Behind her, Kemper and Ludd struggled with the luggage. She gave them a smile, though it took her facial muscles a moment to remember how to fashion it.

Bujina lowered her hands. The Ynath shook his head, took a single deep breath and leapt to his feet, roaring. He turned to where the guide was pointing, to see a small group of ordinary-looking citizens walking slowly along the street towards them, still some distance away.

Contributions

Feet wide apart, hands braced on his knees, Remezov rode it out. Absorbed it all, analysed what he saw. Or tried to. Most quakes conformed to at least some elements of a pattern, but this thing heaved and roared and wheeled like a wounded beast. I chose this Chinese Bl novel because there was no review about it in Novel Updates, it’s not fully translated yet and it’s as if there are not many readers yet. But I trust my favourite author – I just need to stomach her flavourful formula of violence, circumstantial rape, betrayal, angst, pent-up frustrations, possessive and handsome male lead. And I wasn’t disappointed at all. This novel has all of these.