The Wolves of London (Obsidian Heart book 1)
Alex Locke is a reformed ex-convict, forced back into London’s criminal underworld for one more job. He agrees to steal a priceless artefact – a human heart carved from blackest obsidian – from the home of a decrepit old man. But when the burglary goes horribly wrong, Alex is plunged into the nightmarish world of the Wolves of London, a band of unearthly assassins who will stop at nothing to reclaim the heart. As he races to unlock the secrets of the mysterious object, Alex must learn to wield its dark power – or be destroyed by it.
Loved This First Part of The Obsidian Heart Trilogy,
I love the idea that the strange and unusual exists side by side with the world we are all familiar with. Alex is just an ordinary man who is forced to confront the extraordinary. How he rises to that challenge and how he copes forms the backbone of the story. Watching his character evolve from an innocent to a sceptic, then his final grim acceptance of his situation, is rather wonderful.
London is often used as a backdrop in urban fantasy, and I’ve heard the criticism that it’s all been done before; that using this city is a bit old hat. Personally, I couldn’t disagree more. London is an iconic location and every author I’ve read always manages to bring their own unique interpretation of the city to their work. Mark Morris certainly manages that in this instance, it feels almost like a character in its own right. The grimy city streets perfectly help to capture the tone of the piece.
A word of warning, The Wolves of London is not for the faint of heart. This is a tale set in the dark underbelly of the city. There are a handful of moments that are particularly unpleasant. There is one scene in particular that really made me wince. Don’t get me wrong, these moments are entirely appropriate, and work within the context of the story, but they are definitely not for the squeamish.
Do you know what? I wasn’t even planning on writing a review of this book. I bought this entirely for my own pleasure, but by the time I got to the last page I knew that I was going to have to share. I’ve been raving about how good it is to my other half ever since. I think, with the exception of a few short stories here and there, this is the first work of Mark Morris’ that I have ever read. I love it when you accidently stumble upon fiction like this. It makes it feel that much more special, a gem that you weren’t ever expecting. It would appear I have been missing out on a rare treat with this particular author. The cover for The Wolves of London proudly boasts the following statement from Clive Barker – “Mark Morris is one of the finest horror writers at work today”. I ask you, who am I to argue with Pinhead’s dad?
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