In a past that never was...
The year is 1869. Earth experiences the close pass of a comet never before seen. In its wake, many of Terra's inhabitants find themselves changed. Among men, prodigies rise in unprecedented numbers, while many ordinary adults suddenly find themselves possessed of preternatural genius. Likewise, non-hominid animals become self-aware and intelligent.
Fast forward to 1875. A young “comet prodigy” from humble beginnings, Ichabod Temperance, has become the world's foremost inventor. He travels to England to deliver his latest brilliant invention to a famous explorer, until Fate intervenes. Meanwhile, a lovely young Bluestocking, Miss Persephone Plumtartt, survives an experimental accident only to find herself imbued with a power she can neither understand nor control, while dark forces and malevolent creatures pursue her, leaving a gruesome wake of death.
Yet, worse is to come. The naïve young inventor and the lovely intellectual find themselves fighting not only to save their own lives, but to prevent the destruction of all life on Earth.
Source: Blog Tour | Review Consideration
5 Words: Steampunk, sci-fi, disaster, supernatural, technology.
This was a very different steampunk story and I was very pleasantly surprised.
I read a lot of steampunk fiction and I've found that it usually tends to lean towards the fantastical. And while this was definitely fantastical it had far more of a science fiction base to it. And was surprisingly refreshing.
I loved the back story to the technology itself, how it all came about and how it affected different people. This universe has rules and it sticks to them.
I did sometimes find the creatures a little difficult to picture, but that didn't put me off. Probably made them more terrifying!
Persephone was absolutely my favourite character. She was headstrong and smart and I probably read Ichabod's parts of the story all the faster so I could get back to her narrative. That being said, I loved how enthusiastic he was, it was like when he told the story the words themselves bounced around in excitement. The voices telling the story were so distinct that even without the different fonts it was easy to tell who was speaking. Telling. Narrating. You know.