The ship <em>White Raven</em> is a scavenger, running freight, picking up salvage, and doing whatever they can to make a living. When they spot a ship floating lifelessly on the outskirts of the solar system they see an opportunity to make some money. What they didn't expect, however, was that this salvage job would become a rescue operation. The floating ship turns out to be a 500-year-old 'sleeper' ship carrying passengers in a cryogenic sleep. The crew of <em>White Raven</em> manage to wake one passenger, Elena Oh, but they rest expire.

Elena tells her 'rescuers' that her ship and crewmates had intended to reach out far beyond the solar system to make first contact with aliens. She has no idea how or why her ship would be back (or still) in the solar system and she's a bit taken aback that humans have many alien allies now.

It's a mystery why Elena's ship is back within reach, but something the <em>White Raven</em> crew finds on board could mean real trouble for all of Earth and its allies. But first Elena Oh and the White Raven captain, Callie Machedo, need to work out their lust for one another. Neither can stop thinking about the other in sexual terms, but both are sensitive to the fact that a same-sex sexual relationship might not be acceptable in the others' world. Will we learn why Elena Oh's ship is still in the system, but more importantly, will Oh and Machedo ever get it on?!

For the most part, I had a lot of fun here. I've found that I do enjoy a good space opera and author Tim Pratt does a nice job of presenting the reader with plenty of action and fun, new aliens to read about. There's enough of a story to keep us interested in finding out what happens next and the characters are distinct enough and interesting to keep the reader interested. Character is key in space opera.

But let's talk about the romance for a moment.

Ugh.
<ol>
<li>It went on way too long. Not the romance itself, but the back and forth longing for one another without actually letting the other know about it. Unless the book is <em>about</em> the romance, or the attraction but not telling the other about it is somehow integral to the plot, a romance needs to be background story for character development. This relationship demanded full attention, time and again, to the point where I said aloud, "Just do it already so we can get on with the story!"</li>
<li>Lesbian attraction written by a guy? Sorry, but this comes across as voyeuristic porn. I never once felt that either of these women had a true interest in the other. They both acted like frat boys checking out a "hot chick" at a bar. I can maybe be convinced that this is appropriate for Callie Machedo as behavioral norms may have changed significantly in 500 years, but for Elena Oh, who comes from a time much closer to our own (and who was to strike out with an intimate crew to far reaches of the galaxy), this doesn't seem right at all.</li>
</ol>
Bottom line: it was too much and completely unnecessary and not believable. Three strikes.

Fortunately the rest of the book was interesting enough to still garner three and a half stars.

Looking for a good book? <em>The Wrong Stars</em> by Tim Pratt is fast and fun space opera but the over-the-top lesbian attraction the two main characters have for one another drags the story down.

I received a digital copy of this book from the publisher, through Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.

It's a pity. The scenario is great, and also some characters, but the story isn´t. A review in spanish
https://dreamsofelvex.blogspot.com/2017/11/the-wrong-stars-tim-pratt.html

This was a lot of fun, and also has a subtle point to make about abuse and what it leads to (without getting super-graphic).

I don't read much space opera anymore, mainly because so much of it is military, and that doesn't especially interest me. This, however, is more of a classic old-school space opera, suitably updated for today.

The author doesn't have a particularly firm grasp on astrophysics and how acceleration, deceleration, spin, and gravity work, and the book does exhibit the genre trope where somehow thirty or forty years' worth of technological and social change, and apparently no new cultural creations, have been crammed into several centuries; but I can overlook those issues for the sake of a gripping plot, a great ensemble cast, and sparkling banter. Banter such as:

"Have I told you lately that I'm a genius?"
"I'm not sure. I don't usually listen when you talk."

Rather than the usual ragtag freighter crew skirting the edges of the law, possibly from the outside of it, we have here a group of what are more-or-less law enforcement contractors - think something between corporate security, bounty hunters/skip-tracers, and deputized civilians, with just a touch of Judge Dredd. This is a good variation on a classic formula, and drives parts of the plot satisfactorily.

There are aliens, but only one kind (or so the characters initially believe) - the Liars, squidlike beings so called because you can't trust anything they say about their origins, their history, their agenda, or even what they were doing this morning. The plot that unfolds is cosmic in its implications, with a nod to Mythos, among other sources, but remains at the intimate level of a couple of ships' crews.

Speaking of intimate, if lesbian romance is a problem for you, or characters of nonbinary gender, you're probably going to want to skip this one (unless you need to feed your outrage, I suppose - I don't know what goes on in your head). It doesn't get explicit, though.

There's plenty of adventure, varied and entertaining, and the author is highly capable and assuredly in control of his material. I thoroughly enjoyed his urban fantasy <i>Heirs of Grace</i>, which took a genre that's been feeling mined out and flooded with bad copies and made it fresh, interesting, and intelligent again. That's why I picked this one up, and I wasn't disappointed; he does the same for space opera, giving us a book that's both richly entertaining and also has a bit of depth and weight to it.

Fans of L.J. Cohen and Ann Leckie are likely to enjoy this one.

I received a review copy via Netgalley.

Tim Pratt’s The Wrong Stars seems to have found a sweet spot between John Scalzi’s acid-tongued space adventures and the interplanetary political maneuvering of The Expanse series. The story follows the crew of the salvage ship White Raven, and the mess they put themselves (and the human race) in when they happen upon a centuries old derelict ship and awaken its sole occupant, Elena. Elena believes she is bearing news of humanity’s first contact with an extraterrestrial species, only to discover that humans have been coexisting with a species known as the Liars (so called for reasons you have to read to believe) for hundreds of years. But as Elena’s memory of her encounter returns to her, the crew of the White Raven and its captain, Callie, discover that the Liars may not be the only other spacefaring species out there in the universe.
The Wrong Stars has more plots twists than most novels twice its length, so to reveal much more about what happens would result in one egregious spoiler after another. Of all the things that impressed me about this book, the shear amount of story the author manages to cram into such a compact word count is stupefying. There are no holding patterns anywhere in this book, no asides or digressions that waste a single drop of ink. The climax delivers the goods and then some, and I was particularly impressed with how efficiently the author caught all the balls he had in the air while tossing up a few more for a presumed sequel.
The way Pratt unpacks the culture and background of his future history is remarkable enough; the way he then drops it on its head and blows it out an airlock is even more so. Stories are supposed to be about disruptions to the status quo – it’s a basic requirement. Your protagonist’s world is (A), then (A) is damaged when (B) happens, then the protagonist fights to solve (B), resulting in (C), which is now the new (A). What separates a good writer from a mediocre one is the ability to make that formula feel fresh every time. An exceptional writer can play that formula like a violin. Tim Pratt is an exceptional writer. The Wrong Stars is the kind of novel that keeps fooling you into thinking it’s revealed all its secrets just before it hits you with another stunner. If Mr. Pratt does not already teach a class on how to do this, he should. All of the other writers need to take that class.
If I have any complaints, it’s that the up-tempo pace leads to a few plot maneuvers – particularly in the middle part of the book – that feel rushed, maybe even a little forced. The novel’s central romance suffers the most from this, though “suffer” is a relative term when discussing something as entertaining and imaginative as The Wrong Stars. A few of the supporting characters get shortchanged as well: the story seems to try to plow right through them, barely slowing down enough to let them grab ahold and get pulled along.
It’s easy to swallow a few lumps, though, when you’ve got a novel this compelling and funny and engrossing to read. And if nothing else, it’s worth reading for the Liars. If you are a science fiction fan, you need to have the Liars in your life. Trust me on this.