The Sword-Edged Blonde: An Eddie LaCrosse Novel

By Alex Bledsoe

It should have been a case like any other: a missing princess, a king willing to pay in gold for her return. But before he realizes it, sword jockey Eddie LaCrosse is swept up in a web of mystery and deceit involving a brutally murdered royal heir, a queen accused of an unspeakable crime, and the tragic past he thought he'd left behind.

In order to uncover the answers he seeks, Eddie must delve into the dark underbelly of society while digging deep into his own private history, drawing past and present together. Vast conspiracies, women both beautiful and deadly, and a centuries-old revenge scheme are only a few of the pieces in a lethal puzzle.

The Sword-Edged Blonde is a tour-de-force foray into a realm of action, intrigue, and murder.



At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: Jun 30, 2009
• ISBN: 9781429925280

Alex Bledsoe

ALEX BLEDSOE is the author of the Eddie LaCrosse novels (The Sword-Edged Blonde, Burn Me Deadly, Dark Jenny, and Wake of the Bloody Angel), the novels of the Tufa (The Hum and Shiver, Wisp of a Thing, Long Black Curl, and Chapel of Ease), and the Memphis Vampires (Blood Groove and Girls with Games of Blood). Bledsoe grew up in Memphis, Tennessee. He now lives in Madison, Wisconsin.

Book preview

ONE

Spring came down hard that year. And I do mean hard, like the fist of some drunken pike poker with too much fury and not enough ale, whose wife just left him for some wandering minstrel and whose commanding officer absconded with his pay. The thunderstorms alone would be talked about for years, and the floods that followed erased whole towns along the Gusay River. Nature, as always, had the last word.

I worked in a small town in Muscodia back then, out of an office above a dockside tavern. Located on the Gusay midway between the capital city of Sevlow and the border town Pema, Neceda was a place you stopped when you weren’t in a hurry, for a drink, dinner or quick companionship. Only about three hundred people lived there, but at any one time the transients tended to double that population. The money that flowed into town didn’t stay there, though, so Neceda always looked rundown and disreputable. It was a good place for someone like me, a private sword jockey with a talent for discretion, to quietly ply his trade. Clients liked coming to a small town where they could pass unrecognized. Some days were lucrative, most were not, but it all evened out at the end.

The flood and its aftermath had essentially shut Neceda down, and that had created a crisis of conscience among the population. Suddenly a bunch of bottom-feeding strangers had to act like an actual community, and it was amusing to watch people interact who normally wouldn’t: whores and moon priestesses did laundry together, blacksmiths and cardsharps repaired buildings, soldiers and beggars rounded up stray animals and children. I helped sandbag the tavern below, and we’d gotten off pretty light; except for the smell, there wasn’t much damage, which said more about the place than the flood. The river was now mostly back within its banks, and soon would subside enough for normal transportation to resume. Then Neceda would be back to its old rapacious self.

My office consisted of two rooms in the attic over the kitchen, one always open with a bench against the wall in case anyone decided they needed to wait. I kept the inner office locked, but there was really no reason for it; it merely gave an illusion of confidentiality, which on most days was enough.

That illusion was definitely enough for the well-worn emissary from King Felix of Balaton now seated across from me explaining his master’s needs. I wasn’t surprised that the king himself hadn’t come, but at first it amused me that he’d trusted this tired old man with something of, shall we say, such surpassing delicacy. Still, as he related the situation, I understood why he’d been chosen. The very thought of describing the way Princess Lila had gone off to be a girl-toy for a bunch of randy border raiders left him too embarrassed to even meet my eyes. Any other man might’ve been too tempted to make bad jokes, but not this one. He’d been trusted with a job, and he was going to carry it out as best he could.

So as you can see, Mr. LaCrosse, the princess could not possibly have had any intention of, ahem, joining these young men, so she must have been taken against her will. A noble daughter of the house of Balaton would never simply take up with vermin of this sort. He took a long pull on the drink I’d poured from my office bottle.

Behind my desk, I kept my face neutral and said nothing. Nervous people hate silence, so I knew eventually he’d start talking again. In the meantime, I studied him: about sixty, thin and frail-looking, but with traces of a much larger, stronger man left in the set of his jaw and the way he sat up sharply each time he caught himself slumping. A soldier once, maybe even a high-ranking officer, now reduced to an errand boy.

I took pity on him and broke the silence. So what did the guys in the pointy hats have to say about it? I asked.

I beg your pardon?

The king’s wizards. I’d only known two or three kings who didn’t rely on wizards for decisions. Some couldn’t put on their royal slippers without checking the stars’ alignment, and rumor claimed that our own King Archibald, the ruler of Muscodia, had one who read the pattern of mucus in his handkerchief each time he sneezed. I’d heard that King Felix kept three wizards and a moon priestess on retainer for emergencies, and the disappearance of the princess certainly qualified. They’re supposed to see the future. Didn’t they see it coming?

They claim, he said without looking at me, that the future is murky at this time, and beyond their power to envision.

Convenient.

Yes. Their failure is one reason I’ve been sent to hire you. He shifted nervously in his chair. We’ve had no demands for ransom, nor any threats if royal policy isn’t changed, so I don’t believe it was a politically motivated crime. Still, King Felix doesn’t wish word to get out that his family is so, uhm . . . easily swayed, whether by force or, uh, conversion. You can understand that, can’t you?

Would be kind of hard to hold your head up around all the other kings, I agreed. If he caught my sarcasm, he didn’t mention it.

He finally raised his eyes to mine and said, "Then I hope I—I mean, we—can trust your discretion on this."

The royal ‘we’? I asked, and this time the irony stuck.

This is a serious matter, Mr. LaCrosse. His voice grew stronger now that he wasn’t talking about the exploits of sex-crazed fifteen-year-old princesses. I was told that you understood these things, and could be trusted.

Yeah? I leaned back and laced my fingers together over my stomach, which seemed larger than the last time I’d done so. Who by?

Commander Bernard Teller of the Civil Security Force of Boscobel.

I smiled. So Bernie made commander, huh? Bernie was no-nonsense, tough as nails and way too honest to ever get promoted so high. If he had, then things in Boscobel had changed for the better. Well, did he also tell you I get twenty-five gold pieces a day, plus expenses?

He produced a small pouch that jingled distinctively. I have been instructed to give you 200 gold pieces now, with another 200 upon successful completion of the job.

I leaned over and took the pouch, which was too heavy not to be genuine. Let’s be clear on exactly what constitutes ‘successful completion.’

The return of the princess to her father.

Intact? I pressed. We both knew what I meant.

In any condition. He just wants her back before anyone finds out about this.

I opened the pouch and took out fifty of the small gold coins, then pushed the bag back across my desk to him. I don’t need the whole amount now, just enough for a couple of days’ travel to the border to look for these guys you say she ran off with. Pay me the balance when she’s back in her own canopied bed.

He looked at me oddly for a moment, but didn’t argue. As he stood, I asked suddenly, So tell me—why’d she leave?

I beg your pardon?

Princess Lila. There must’ve been a reason. Spoiled rich girls don’t usually go to that much trouble to get away from home.

As I told you—

You told me she ran off to get laid by some rough boys. In my experience, rich girls don’t have much trouble with that, and they don’t throw away their meal tickets just for a night of slap-and-tickle. So why’d she leave?

The princess is . . . headstrong. As was her late mother. He seemed to feel that this was enough explanation.

Do you have a picture? I’d hate to show up with the wrong girl.

The old man produced a small engraved image of a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty. She wore a low-cut court gown that revealed her assets quite nicely; her liabilities were less obvious. She had a pronounced, sharp nose that gave her an earthy air at odds with her finery. Kids these days, I said, and pocketed the picture.

After the old man had gone, I swung my chair around and looked out the window toward the river. The odor of drying mud and dead fish filled the air. It would take several normal rains to get all the crap off the streets, and in the meantime the thought of a little time away from home, even if it meant tangling with border raiders, seemed like a good idea.

I studied the girl’s picture. This missing princess could be one of two types. The first kind, protected and sheltered from the harsh realities of the world, retained their childhood innocence throughout their lives, and were unconditionally honest, kind and loving no matter what the world threw at them. I’d known at least one princess like that.

The other kind, much more common, grew up spoiled, selfish and arrogant. Where I needed to look for this one depended on which type she was.

I knew King Felix’s elderly messenger hadn’t told me everything; clients like him never do. But I suspected the pieces of the truth were there in the information he’d given, and I’d have the whole trip downriver to put them together. It was another reason I didn’t take all his money; I’d agreed to find the girl, and I would, but I wasn’t ready to promise what would happen after that.

I opened the sword cabinet and took out my old Fireblade Warrior three-footer, the one with the narrow dagger hidden in the hilt. I had bigger swords, but this one wouldn’t attract attention and, since I’d filed the distinctive Fireblade monogram off the blade, it looked a lot more fragile and decrepit than it actually was. I slipped it into the shoulder scabbard and strapped it across my back, outside my jacket.

I grabbed the basics for a short overnight trip and threw them into a saddlebag. I put five pieces of gold in my pocket and the remainder in the hollow heel of my right boot. Then I locked up the inner office and went downstairs.

Angelina looked up from washing the mugs. It was just after lunch, so there were only a couple of men drinking, and neither of them seemed to require much of her attention. Angelina was not young, although she was beautiful in a way that only grew stronger the more time you spent with her. She could’ve done much better for herself than owning this ratty tavern where she endured the occasional gropes and rudeness in return for respectable tips. I knew she was hiding out from something, but it was none of my business. We all have secrets.

Callie, her teenage waitress, stood at the end of the bar carefully arranging a small ring of pebbles around a tiny metal cup. When she finished that, she cautiously measured powder into it. She kept referring to a scrap of vellum covered in red lettering beside it. Her lips moved as she read.

What are you doing? I asked. Callie was a beautiful girl, but I’d seen elderly glowworms that were brighter.

A spell for no more rain, she said as she worked. I’m tired of cleaning the mud out from between my toes every night.

A spell? I repeated. So are you studying to be a moon priestess now, Callie?

No, but I got this from one. It only cost me three pieces of gold, too.

Bought spells aren’t worth the blood they’re written in, Angelina said disdainfully.

Callie looked up, annoyed. Yeah, well, I bought it to stop the rain, and it hasn’t rained since.

So a teenage barmaid can now control the weather, Angelina snorted. What will they think of next?

Everyone knows you’re bitter, Angie, but it gets tired after a while, Callie snapped. "I’m trying to make a difference in the world, not just bitch about it."

Angelina wasn’t impressed. Make a difference at the corner booth, why don’t you? Those plates won’t collect themselves. Oh, unless you bought a spell for that, too. Maybe I’m paying you too much, if you can throw money around like that.

Callie’s eyes filled with tears. Angie, you’re just mean, she said. She gathered her little spell and stomped off into the kitchen.

I looked at Angelina. "That was mean."

For an instant regret flashed in her eyes, then they hardened over. I don’t need waitresses who still believe in magic. Their religion should be tips and serving customers.

You don’t believe in magic?

She snorted. And you do?

I believe in possibility.

Name one magical thing you’ve ever seen.

Why, you in the firelight, Angel.

She barked a laugh at me, then turned back to washing. So, are you going out of town? she asked.

Yeah. Should be back day after tomorrow at the latest.

Have something to do with that old rattletrap who came down a little while ago?

Where you from, Angel?

She grinned and winked over her shoulder. Right. No questions, no lies. Well, watch yourself. You’re ugly enough without more scars.

And you be nicer to Callie. A lot of people come in here just to watch her bend over and pick things up.

TWO

The streets of Neceda swarmed with activity. Women and children cleaned the walls of the buildings, while men worked to level out the mud in the road so it would dry faster. A few wagons braved the terrain, but most of them ended up stuck, and the horses clearly understood the futility of working too hard to get free. I crossed the road on a plank, and as I walked down the opposite side a voice said, Excuse me, sir, can you help a poor stranded pilgrim of Eludo?

I turned. A beggar stood, hand out, under the eave of an apothecary shop. He was middle-aged, with long gray hair in two braids down his shoulders and a neat pointed beard on his chin. His cheeks were smooth. He wore an old cloak tattered at the edges, and his feet were wrapped in rags. On a long chain around his neck hung the symbol of the Eludo religion, a two-headed owl. I said, You’re not poor. You’re not stranded. And you’re no pilgrim of Eludo.

He blinked in surprise, sputtered a moment and then began, Sir, I promise you—

I held up my hand. You had a shave this morning. That couldn’t have been cheap with the town in this shape. All the barbers are busy tending the sick and mopping out their shops. If you’ve got gold to waste on personal grooming, then you probably can afford passage out of town, and you’re only stranded because everyone else is. And Eludo pilgrims, as a rule, don’t worry about either shaving or moving; they believe their all-seeing owl god will provide. So now I have a question for you: Why would a wealthy man be begging on the street like this?

He’d grown progressively paler as I spoke, and now was bone-white. I have no idea what you mean, he stammered.

Let me tell you what you don’t have any idea about, I said. I grabbed his cloak, jerked him close and used the snarl that once made a young crossbowman wet his pants. You got the money to afford that expensive shave by finding out who in town would donate to an Eludo pilgrim. When you identified those folks, your pals down the street or around the corner would watch for your signal, follow the mark until the right moment and then induce them to give an even bigger donation, probably at knife-point. That’s your trade, pal, and I understand that, but I don’t care how thick the mud is, you better get your ass out of town before I see you again. Understand?

He nodded, rapidly and emphatically. He’d retained bladder control, but I still felt I’d made an impression. I let him go.

Something sent a tingle up my spine. I looked behind me in time to see a man duck inside a butcher shop. I got an impression of someone young and well-dressed, which was as out of place in Neceda as a spider on a fairy cake. The first obvious thought was that it was the phony pilgrim’s partner, but I didn’t get the same grubby sense from him. I considered investigating, but it would take time, and I might just be paranoid to think he was watching me. Maybe he just wondered why I was slapping around a pilgrim of Eludo.

My feet splock-splocked over the mud as I went down an alley and emerged along the dockside road. A big empty flatboat sat moored at the end of one pier, awaiting a cargo commission. Extra lines tied it to the dock, since the current was still raging. Most boats, I knew, wouldn’t even attempt the river at this level.

A barrel-chested, dark-skinned man sat on a chair next to one of the pylons, puffing on a pipe and watching the water. He looked up as I approached.

Eddie LaCrosse, the town’s favorite blade-basher. Here to enjoy the lovely spring breeze?

I need a ride, Sharky, I said, and draped my saddlebags across the dock’s rail. Down to Pema. No cargo, just me.

That’s not really worth my trouble, is it? Sharky said. He gestured toward his boat. Your ass is big, but it ain’t so big it needs a cargo boat. Go down and wait for the ferry like everyone else.

The ferry won’t run with the river this high.

And you think my boat will? With just a single passenger?

I think it will because you’re the best pilot in town, and you and me both know there’s not any cargo to be had. I got three gold pieces with your name on ’em to prove it. I jingled my pocket for emphasis.

That got his attention, as well as the eye of a shifty character shoveling mud from the back of a nearby house. I turned and faced him, and he quickly returned to his task. Most of the lowlifes in town knew me, and while they certainly didn’t tremble at my name, they had enough sense not to try anything in broad daylight, especially when I had Sharky as back-up.

Keep wavin’ that money around, somebody’s likely to wave back with something sharper, Sharky said.

So come on, just a quick run down to Pema. You don’t even have to wait on me, I’ll rent a horse for the trip back.

"Why don’t you just buy a horse like everyone else?"

Then I’d be deprived of your charming company.

Huh. But he stood and gestured mock-grandly for me to step aboard the barge. I took a seat on one of the stools nailed to the deck and usually reserved for the crew.

Wait a minute, he said, and stepped off the boat. I watched the tan-colored, opaque river as it slid by, its passage marked by foam and debris. When I turned, Sharky was leading two horses onto the boat, along with a sleepy-eyed boy of about ten.

You need them? I said.

That’s exactly what I asked him, the boy yawned.

Not you, Kenny. Them. I despised horses, which was why I didn’t own one.

"Have you looked at the river? Sharky said. Yes, I need them, and I need this worthless manure pile . . .  He smacked Kenny on the back of his head, not brutally but almost with affection. . . . to guide them while I steer the boat. I ain’t poling this thing back upstream against this current. Horses and mules were common sights when the Gusay was at its normal depth, hauling flatboats upstream along the riverfront roads. Sharky dropped two long coils of rope beside me that would be used to tie the horses to the boat. You’re getting a bargain here at any price; don’t give me a hard time."

Fine, I said, making no effort to hide my disgust. I caught the eye of one of the horses, a jet-black mare with two white socks. She regarded me with cool contempt, something all horses held for me.

Well, not all. I suddenly recalled one horse, in a forest a long time ago, who had a completely different look in her eye. I hadn’t thought about that horse in years, or about the woman in the cottage I met soon after. I shook my head and made myself return to the present, and the task at hand.

Sharky cast off the ropes and shoved the flatboat away from the dock. The water, as thick as syrup with mud and debris, carried us slowly into the middle of the stream. When the current finally caught us it nearly knocked me off my seat. The horses, old hands at this, adjusted their balance with a minimum of hoof-clopping. Kenny curled up like a cat and went back to sleep.

Can’t promise you a smooth ride, Sharky said, so be ready for anything. And I hope you can swim.

Can you? I asked, bracing myself as best I could.

Hell, no, he cackled. That’s why I won’t let my boat sink. But it also means I can’t rescue your sorry ass if you fall off.

Sharky stood at the rudder, and Neceda receded in our wake. I thought I glimpsed the same young, well-dressed man suddenly appear at the foot of the dock, then turn and rush away. But I hadn’t really seen him clearly before, so I couldn’t say for sure it was him now. Maybe it was just some guy needing his corn shipped to market.

I took the engraving from my pocket and tried to memorize it; I didn’t think I’d have time to hold it next to the face of every ready-to-go girl I’d meet. I looked into her eyes, and tried to get inside her head.

Fifteen was awfully young to jump the wall and run off, especially for a princess of the House of Balaton. What would induce her to do such a thing? Despite her palace isolation, I couldn’t believe the girl in this picture would be susceptible to such naive daydreams. And even accepting the engraver’s artistic liberties, there was real intelligence in the rueful set of her smile, the way her eyes didn’t have that popped-open blankness of so many royal children. She had to know that most border raiders were not romantic ruffians, that they’d have her bent over the nearest fence rail at the first opportunity and most likely leave her dead in a ditch soon

Reviews for The Sword-Edged Blonde

[eclipse777-1 · Rating: 1 out of 5 stars]

DNF I was uncomfortable how the female characters were described in this book, the author seems obsessed with describing females by their breasts and most of the women he meets have been raped. I could have coped with this as the mystery was slightly interesting But the thing which made me put the book down is the hero meeting a diseased goddess and making love to her

[bookczuk · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

My second Eddie LaCrosse novel, Alex Bledsoe's first. Nice thing about finding a series in progress by an author you like? You don't have to wait for the next book to come out! Good plot, nice Easter Eggs, humor, adventure, mystery, and promises of more tales to come. I'll take it.tags: 2016-read, a-favorite-author, fantasy, first-novel-or-book, fun, good-worldbuilding, part-start-of-a-series, quirky, read, thank-you-charleston-county-library, will-look-for-more-by-this-author

[quondame · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The Noir voice in a medieval fantasy setting is jarring but the story moves and the actions are interesting enough that the shallow peripheral characters don’t jangle.

[sarah_buckley-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In the kingdom of Arentia the reigning Queen has just been charged with murdering her son (and royal heir) in a particularly brutal way. King Phillip doesn't want to believe that his wife is capable of such violence but is very low on options. Queen Rhiannon was found in a locked room surrounded by blood and bones after all. The king can only think of one person he trusts enough to look into this horrific crime, his old friend Eddie LaCrosse. Eddie has spent years running from a painful past and now, reluctantly, heads back to the last place he wants to be to help out his friend.

What follows is a reasonably interesting locked-room mystery. Most places will describe this story as a: " hardboiled noir in a fantasy world". While that is pretty close to what it is, i felt that it wasn't as hardboiled as I was led to believe. Oh sure a lot of terrible things happen in this book and the backstory for our main character Eddie is pretty dark the horrors were really low key. Perhaps I'm just so used to everything that happens because of my reading habits. It did read very "realistic" and there was all the good things I like about Hardboiled detective fiction such as corrupt officials and detectives with very gray moralities.

That's not to say i didn't like it. Quite the opposite actually. I felt that the story set up the vaguely medieval fantasy setting well and the characters were all pretty well drawn. The mystery held my interest and had some good twists in there that surprised me. It also got pretty mystical and magical which did surprise me, as I wasn't informed ahead of time that the book contained such things. I liked it though! It's good to be surprised once in a while, there's nothing worse than being bored by a book.

The characters are all pretty well drawn. Eddie LaCrosse, our main character, is a little flat in this first book. He is hard-edged and cynical....but only mostly in his own head. He truly cares about others and works hard to protect them and fight for the truth. His angsty back story is dark but thankfully doesn't consume the whole story or make his too depressing to read about.

The women in this story.....are less well drawn. I felt they were mostly one-dimensional and mostly there to be tragic or sexy or tragically sexy. There are some exceptions, but not very many. My hope is that in future stories that this gets better.

Overall, I'd recommend these stories to read. They won't set the world on fire with a mind blowing tale, but they are really fun fast reads. The main character is interesting with an interesting backstory that doesn't drag down the plot and the mystery is interesting with some good twists.

[T. Dean Gates · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Lovely (violent) story. Nicely written.

[kittycunningh-815148 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I gave it a second shot and liked it much better the second time around.

[schlyne · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The first of the sword jockey fantasy novels. It's a combination of your "hard nosed private detective" and epic fantasy. A great combination.

[shirezu · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I originally started reading this as something light to read in between heavy, dark, deep books. But then I found that I just couldn't put it down and had to keep going til it was over.

A brilliant blend of medieval fantasy and noir detective this book really hit the right marks for me. The witty, self-deprecating, flawed and human detective/swordsman was such a great main character I easily fell behind him. The main story, while predictable, was entertaining and gripping the whole way though.

Another review I read mentioned inconsistencies, like a name-tag on a waitress, but they weren't mistakes but intentional anachronisms that really gave this book a sense of the familiar mixed with fantasy. These little humourous details that shouldn't exist in the setting of the world but work perfectly. Reminds me a lot of Douglas Adams more subtle humour. The best humour is most often that which isn't pushed into the audiences face.

A great book I must now get my hands on the sequel.

[snat_3 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

In the medieval kingdom of Arentia, Queen Rhiannon has been charged with a particularly horrific case of infanticide. King Philip desperately believes in his wife's innocence, despite all evidence to the contrary. His only hope? Eddie LaCrosse, the tough as nails sword-for-hire investigator and the king's childhood friend. Having spent years trying to outrun his past, LaCrosse begrudgingly returns home and is forced to confront his demons while trying to unravel the mystery of whether or not the beautiful blonde bombshell actually killed her own son.The Sword-Edged Blonde is the snappy title for this noir/fantasy mash-up that's light on the noir, easy on the fantasy, and not as snappy as I wanted it to be. This is a bit of fun and forgettable reading, perfect for vacation but little else. While I enjoyed the book as a light, quick read, I could have loved it if it weren't for a few peeves:--First off, that cover. Ye gods, that cover. Even by the artistically lacking and inept standards of mass market paperback sci fi/fantasy covers, that is one fugly cover. And wtf it has to do with the novel, I have no idea. It appears as though a giant troll king will manifest somewhere in the novel, and it's difficult to tell if he will be friend or foe based upon the back-to-back stance with the protagonist. Is he being sneaky-sneaky, trying to catch our hero off-guard, or has he simply got his back, bro? You know what--doesn't matter because this character and this scene never appears in the novel, at least not in any recognizable form.--Ditto with the title. Sure, there's a blonde, but nothing about her is particularly "sword-edged." She's basically clueless and pouty. The reality is that she's more of a butter-knife-edged blonde. Or maybe a spork blonde, kind of confused and essentially useless.--The protagonist, Eddie LaCrosse, is a bland character. He's not hard-boiled enough. I expected a world-weary, wise-cracking antihero (maybe a character like Ash from Army of Darkness). But LaCrosse is basically just a good guy who wanders around while clues smack him in the face. The only real nod to noir is that he has a suitably tragic past, but it doesn't seem to have shaped his character in any significant way. He occasionally ruminates on his past woes, but then snaps back to the present and soldiers on.--Ineffective use of the locked room mystery presented as the crux for the case. I won't say much regarding this since I don't want to ruin anything, but a locked room can have so much potential for an unexpected twist that The Sword-Edged Blonde never capitalizes on.While I didn't particularly like the objectified female characters, such is the territory with a noir-esque novel and there's nothing here that suggests Alex Bledsoe harbors misogynistic tendencies; instead, he's just tipping his hat to one of the defining characteristics of the genre. Still, it bothered me a bit that so many other noir tropes were dodged, but this was the one that was adhered to. Essentially, this book is like a cheap and ugly hooker. Pay your $10, try not to look at it too hard, and you might have a relatively good time. (That's right, I went there even after my little speech about objectifying women--hypocrisy, thy name is Amanda.) Cross posted at This Insignificant Cinder

[msjessie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Sword-Edged Blonde does something new and interesting - it merges two genres I love - fantasy and mystery - and spins them together in a highly fun and unique way. With a main character like investigator Eddie LaCrosse, who manages to inject a bit of wry, world-weary humor into a dark toned and murder-filled novel, there's a lot to enjoy in this first of a newish series. Both the fantasy aspects and the 'whodunit' more than hold up under the pressure of three hundred pages of revenge, fallen Goddess, and surprise revelations. Neatly and engrossingly told, this debut novel is hard to put down as the reader and Eddie race to figure out what happened to both Prince Pridiri and Epona Gray.I'm a big fan of the way Alex Bledsoe writes about this alternate but familiar world, filled with 'sword jockeys', exiled nobility, and magic. Though I had never heard of him before Audra's wonderful review of this exact book, he steadily impressed me with his original storytelling ability and talent for crafting concrete, realistic, and flawed characters. Bledsoe also has an adept way of setting the scene - from the first sentence of the novel ("Spring came down hard that year. And I do mean hard, like the fist of some drunken pike poker with too much fury and not enough ale, whose wife just left him for some wandering minstrel and whose commanding officer absconded with his pay."), the voice of protagonist Eddie is uniquely his own and captivating, as is the imagined world he lives in. Consider me a fan of this author just after this first novel - I can only hope the rest of this semi-medieval fantasy series lives up to the standard of The Sword-Edged Blonde.Main character Eddie is my favorite part of this slightly supernatural mix of mystery and fantasy. He's presented as a wholly flawed man with a dark and mysterious past all his own. Though the focus of the novel is more on unraveling the twisty web of political intrigue and revenge around Arentia's royal family, the tidbits that sneak out about Eddie's personal history added ever more depth to the hard-bitten and snarky man. I also loved his sense of humor from the outset. ("Okay. I'd found a clue. But it told me nothing. Actually, it took away some certainties, so it was more of an anti-clue. Eddie LaCrosse, reverse investigator." and "Always pay the insurance" - Eddie's version of the double tap.) If hardboiled, noir detective types are something you enjoy reading about, don't let the slight fantastical elements of The Sword-Edged Blonde scare you away. Lies, vendettas, secrets, twists, turns, and murder - all are part and parcel in this able and talented swordsman's daily excursions. I vastly enjoyed the world Bledsoe has crafted. With obvious nods to the genres he melds so well, there is a bit of exposition to get through in the first hundred or so pages before the story really takes off. I'm not one to nitpick fantasy exposition as long as it's done as well as it is here. It/the flashbacks to Eddie's former life didn't choke up the storyline, but managed to actually add to the complete feel of the story/world created. I loved the infusion of Celtic and Welsh mythologies - fantasy as a genre tends to stick to mining the same ground for inspiration of gods and goddesses, and it's always refreshing to read a new take on the same old same old. The mystery element gets a bit muddled when the odd, remote character of Epona is introduced, but Bledsoe happily manages to clear it up with ease soon after.I do have a few caveats, despite how thoroughly I got sucked into Eddie's story and world. I got a bit tired of how many women were blonde and attractive in this novel - there were so many mentioned that I lost count. There are many token women characters and none of them are characterized to the same degree as Eddie - which bothered me more and more as the trend continued throughout the novel. I also have slight issues with just who the woman appearing to Eddie at the end is, because it can come across a bit like women are replaceable versions of one another in this world. It's a minor complaint, but I wasn't happy with how that particular plotline was executed.The Sword -Edged Blonde boasts a well-crafted mystery, a likeable if gruff and imperfect lead, a solid plot, and several truly unexpected twists and revelations. While the females of this world could do with some time and work, it is main character Eddie who commands attention and keeps the fun coming. There's tons more good than bad to be found in this first novel, and I thoroughly enjoyed my reading experience with The Sword-Edged Blonde. It's a "tongue in cheek" look at sword noir, and it works well across the board; inventive, fun, if superficial. I am a fan, and upon finishing, I was eager and excited to see what this author has cooked up for the second novel in the series, Burn Me Deadly.

[kmaziarz_4 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Eddie LaCrosse is a self-described “sword jockey,” a private investigator for hire in a world of kings, queens, missing princesses, murder most foul, and magic of all stripes. He’s initially hired to find a missing princess, but along the way finds himself enlisted to solve the case of a particularly heinous murder and prove the Queen accused of the crime innocent. Unfortunately for Eddie, the King who’s hired him is Eddie’s long-lost best friend and part of a past Eddie’s been running from for most of his life. The solution to the mystery, too, lies in a part of Eddie’s past he’d rather forget. But circumstances force him to confront the tragedies he’s been hiding and come to grips with his own guilty conscience.A spirited blend of sword-and-sorcery fantasy with hard-boiled-noir, The Sword-Edged Blonde is a fast-paced, one-liner-littered delight. It’s only the first in a series featuring the wise cracking sword jockey Eddie LaCrosse, so look out for Burn Me Deadly, the second Eddie adventure.

[majkia · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Entertaining and fun adventure with a sword jockey. Private dick with sword. How can that go wrong!

[sunnysd_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Eddie LaCrosse, middle-aged swordsman and jack-of-all-trades, has a new case - prove his best friend's wife didn't kill and eat their infant son. Complications? His relationship with the suspected murderess, her amnesia, and his own past.Despite the medieval-esque setting, this has the ring of Sam Spade or Travis McGee, and it's all the better for it. Fast and fun, if not exactly what I'd call humorous.

[hedera_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I wasn't sure about this at first, but as I got into it, it turned into a pretty good read. It's sword-and-sorcery fantasy with a heavy emphasis on sword; Eddie LaCrosse is a much more interesting character than he lets on at the beginning. I'm still deciding whether the 20th century tough-guy dialog - 20th century American tough-guy at that - improves or detracts from the medieval background and magical events. But the people come across as real and interesting even if some of the details startle.

[the_evil_dm · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I never remember where I learn half of the stuff I find out about on the Internet, but I’m glad I was paying enough attention to make note of The Sword-Edged Blonde. It’s billed as a fantasy tale written in a style reminiscent of Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler.The story’s told by Eddie LaCrosse, a former soldier, mercenary and general “knock around” guy running an investigating service. He’s contacted by a client to find a missing princess, which proves to be the springboard for a much more desperate tale involving murder, conspiracy, and revenge. LaCrosse enters the service of an old friend, King Philip of Arentia, to clear the name of his wife, Queen Rhiannon, who has been convicted of killing and eating her infant son in an unholy ritual sacrifice.We follow LaCrosse from royal palaces to back-alley gambling dens as he uses every skill at his disposal to clear the queen. A complex pattern of flashbacks reveals the hand of fate; old acquaintances from the past become players in the intrigues of the present. Fortunately, the flashbacks don’t confuse the reader and actually showcase some of the best action sequences in the novel. Such is the case when LaCrosse first comes across Cathy Dumont, a courier beset by roadside bandits. After dealing with the robbers, LaCrosse and Cathy share the road, and a mutual respect and attraction. Cathy is delivering a package that will haunt Eddie for years to come. Bledsoe manages to merge the past and the present convincingly, as long as you accept the premise that magic works, gods walk the earth, and curses last for ages.The Sword-Edged Blonde followed much of the style one expects from a gritty detective novel. LaCrosse is a likeable guy. He’s been around the block a few times, but is still human enough to get sucker-punched from time to time. It took me awhile to adjust to the characters referring to each other as Eddie, Phil, or Janet, mostly because I’m more familiar with the formal or invented names that are more often used in fantasy tales. But I settled in and adjusted readily enough.I’ve seen The Sword-Edged Blonde described as both high fantasy and sword-and-sorcery. High fantasy conjures images of wizards, elves, dragons, and dark lords. Sword-and-sorcery brings to mind ancient ruins, grim barbarians, and spider haunted temples. The Sword-edged Blonde doesn’t have much of either. There is magic, and there are bloody fights worthy of the best sword-and-sorcery tale. But The Sword-Edged Blonde is more like a grim and gritty fairy tale for adults clothed skillfully in a trench coat and a fedora and seasoned with elements of sacrifice, romance, intrigue, and redemption. It was a good read.