Today I have something a little different for you all. I’m so excited to take part in this tour with the usual info about the book, followed by a review. I’ve had this on my TBR since its release but it kept getting pushed back for one reason or another. When I saw the tour and the announcement that it’s an SPFBO9 finalist, I knew the time I had finally come for me to dive in. I usually only use one format for a book, two at the most, but with this one I used the audio, physical, and ebook because I was so absorbed that I used whatever I could do continue with it whenever possible.
On top of the review, you’re also getting a never before published scene that didn’t make it into the final book as we know it. It is very explicit though so approach with caution if that isn’t your thing usually.
The Fall Is All There Is
Author: C.M. Caplan
Narrator: Scott Fleming
Series: Four of Mercies
Pub Day: November 07, 2022
Length: 420 Pages / 11 hours 31 minutes
Content/Trigger Warnings
Shown on Page (things clearly told to the reader): Profanity, Violence, Ableism, Cursing, Drug Use, Age gap, Self-harm, Vomiting, Infidelity, Amputation, Gore
Alluded to (things only mentioned in passing or hinted at): Child abuse, Child neglect, Child harm, Financial abuse, Incest (to clarify: no actual incest, but rumors abound about it throughout the book)
Add on Goodreads here.
Available on KU and for purchase here.
Blurb
All Petre Mercy wanted was a good old-fashioned dramatic exit from his life as a prince. But it’s been five years since he fled home on a cyborg horse. Now the King – his Dad – is dead – and Petre has to decide which heir to pledge his thyroid-powered sword to.
As the youngest in a set of quadruplets, he’s all too aware that the line of succession is murky. His siblings are on the precipice of power grabs, and each of them want him to pick their side.
If Petre has any hope of preventing civil war, he’ll have to avoid one sibling who wants to take him hostage, win back another’s trust after years of rivalry and resentment, and get an audience with a sister he’s been avoiding for five years.
Before he knows it, he’s plunged himself into a web of intrigue and a world of strange, unnatural inventions just to get to her doorstep.
Family reunions can be a special form of torture.
About the Author
C.M. Caplan is the author of the SPFBO7 semi-finalist The Sword in the Street, and the post-apocalyptic science-fantasy and SPFBO9 finalist The Fall Is All There Is. He’s a quadruplet (yes, really), autistic, and has a degree in creative writing. He was awarded his university’s highest honor in the arts for his work. His short fiction also won an Honorable Mention in the 2019 Writers of the Future Contest. If you enjoy his books, you can rate them on Goodreads and Amazon. You can also subscribe to Caplan’s mailing list with this link to receive free short stories, giveaways, updates, information, or sneak previews into future projects.
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Review
Disclaimer: This review will be used for SPFBO as well but only represents my own personal opinion, not the opinion of my team as a whole.
I have been meaning to read The Fall Is All There Is by C.M. Caplan since it came out and I’m so glad that between the tour and SPFBO, I finally was able to prioritize it. I had heard so many crazy things about this book and knew I had to check it out for myself.
Going from Cold West to The Fall Is All There Is was really interesting when considering the strength of each MC’s voice. Both were very distinct and fit their story well. What was fantastic for TFIATI was having the perfect narrator for the audiobook on top of that. I couldn’t imagine a better choice. The anxiety of the MC in particular felt really well done and his thought processes were very relatable to me. While Petre’s impulses did drive me nuts sometimes, I could still follow his reasonings for them most of the time.
“I’ve never understood how that shit works. How do you think of something you don’t want to be thinking about? Just don’t. Move on. It doesn’t have to haunt you.”
One of the biggest highlights about this book was the representation for neurodiversity. The MC is autistic but as someone seeking a diagnosis for ADHD, I could relate to some of the symptoms on page really well too. Too well sometimes. There was one scene in particular used to torture the MC that worked almost as well on me as I was reading it. I was so shocked because I had never experienced it to that degree before while reading. The symptoms that stood out to me the most were intrusive thoughts, spiraling, and hyperfixation, but others might see even more that I don’t know myself.
This story mainly focuses on the relationships between the four siblings. Just like Petre, I was a little confused about what was going on at first but did enjoy the paranoia and reveal of the characters’ motivations along the way. I did get lost a little bit in the convolution here and there with Petre’s rambling to keep straight or because my mind was still stuck on the last familial horror that happened but overall it was an intriguing familial dynamic to follow.
I really would’ve liked more world building. This is probably one of the craziest world I’ve ever read about but the combination of magic and science and craziness was so cool to explore. I wanted more and more and more since new worlds are one of my favorite things about a new series but do think Caplan incorporated bits and pieces smoothly into the story at appropriate times and the book didn’t actually need more to function well. With its deep focus on relationships, it probably would’ve overshadowed the intentions of the book to have a lot more info about the world itself.
Despite not being able to follow every detail in this book, I really enjoyed myself. There were some extremely funny moments and I laughed out loud so hard sometimes at the predicaments and reveals. There was also a little spice and while I would’ve loved some more on that front as well, I again understand how that would’ve shifted the focus of the book too much (but that’s why I’m excited to be able to share a deleted scene with you today!). I can’t wait to see how this series continues and wish the author good luck in the rest of the SPFBO competition.
Explicit Deleted Scene
A word, before the facesitting, about continuity.
The book that become The Fall Is All There Is started primarily as a romantasy novel. The section you are about to read is from after I realized that that angle didn’t work and I had to scrap it, but before I took out the love interest entirely.
The Mercedes you know, if you’ve read the book, is a fusion of this character and a completely different character from an earlier draft.
This version of Mercedes is a from a draft where I hadn’t quite worked out what to do with her. This scene was one of the ones that fell away after I figured it out. So it’s after I figured out she didn’t quite fit as “love interest in a romantasy novel” but before I managed to fit her into the current continuity.
In this version, she’s been traveling with Edgar and Petre. What you’re about to read takes place in a tent, shortly after Petre’s fight with the Gaunt woman in the forest of concrete and chalcedony. Edgar slept through that in this version, and Petre had to take care of her himself.
This was what happened after that.
I was still replaying that, still smeared in dirt and blood and grime, when I climbed back into the tent to find Mercedes, cross legged, sipping on a teacup. She looked up when I arrived and shut the book she had been reading. “You look like hell,” she whispered.
“I feel like hell,” I said. Didn’t climb into the bedroll. I was too sweaty. Too grungy. I went to run my fingers through my hair. But that made the injury to my chest hurt. And I winced.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve had far worse.”
“You should treat it.”
“I’ll get around to it,” I murmured. Edgar shifted in his bedroll behind her. I thought I’d woken him up for a second. But he kept snoring.
“I meant tonight,” Mercedes said.
“Let’s not get carried away here,” I murmured. I was still dazed and shaky after the fight.
But she was already going through the first aid kit. Produced a packet of wipes. “Take your shirt off.”
“Mercedes—what?”
“I don’t like to repeat myself,” she said. “Nothing I haven’t seen before, hey?”
I rolled my eyes. Fought down my smirk. I took the goddamn shirt off like she asked. The world was cold. I didn’t like the thoughts that chill became a muse for.
She dragged the wipe across my cuts. The wound felt like it was sizzling. And my heart hammered so insistently that I felt like it was attempting to comport itself to the palm of her hand. To get as close to it as possible.
“They were Gaunt,” Mercedes murmured. “Weren’t they?”
She went back for a second pass with the wipes. I flinched this time.
“Do I need to worry about your injections again?” She asked. Her knees were touching mine, and her breath was on my lips and in my open mouth. All at once the only thought consuming me was the desire for a better taste.
But I looked away. “I’m sorry about that.”
“Do you think if I was mad you wouldn’t know it?”
“God no,” I laughed under my breath.
“So then why do you want to blame yourself if I won’t do it?”
I shrugged. “Someone has to.”
She really dug her nails in on the third pass with the wipes. I had to let my breath out slowly. “And why is that?” She paused, her hand on my chest.
I swallowed. I was thinking. Wasn’t sure what I should say. Were my cheeks as red as they felt? I hoped not. I didn’t want her to know she was getting to me.
“Seems to me you want more than just my hand pressed on your chest,” she whispered. “Am I wrong?”
I pressed my fingernails into the palm of my flesh. Could she see that I was hard? I figured perhaps I shouldn’t be looking at her lips. But when I looked for somewhere else to look I found that I was staring down her cleavage. Got some wires crossed. Mouths and cleavage, you know?
God, fuck. If I wanted to prove her wrong, I wasn’t doing myself any favors. “A little,” I said.
“A little wrong?”
“You know what I mean.” My blood was occupying other places that were not my brain. Why did she trust me to speak intelligently right now?
“I think I do,” she whispered. “And yet here you are. Keeping your hands to yourself. Like a gentleman.”
The way she said gentleman made me twitch. An involuntary noise squirmed out from my throat.
“So why should I believe what happened this morning is your truer self?” Absently, she finished wiping me up. Folded the antiseptic wipe. “Let that dry,” she added.
“Maybe I just want to feel bad,” I murmured.
She looked me up and down. Scrutinized every inch of the grime that clung to me so thoroughly that it made me want to wince. “You don’t feel bad enough?”
Well fuck. She had me there. I realized I hadn’t answered her initial question. “They were Gaunt,” I said. “If any more come, I’ll protect you.”
I didn’t mean it in any kind of way. So I was surprised when she said, “What makes you think I need protecting, Petre Mercy?”
I tried to look away again. But this time I wound up staring at her thighs.
“I happen—“ She leaned forward, planting one hand behind my hip. “—to know my way—” She dragged her legs over my lap, her knees squeezing my thighs. I leaned back to get some room. “—around a gun.”
I felt something cold pressing against my chest. Looked down to see she’d dragged my caterwauler from its holster.
“Petre.” Her voice was deep and resonant in the pit of my chest. Or maybe that was the pit in the stomach from the realization that I was frustratingly, achingly hard, and there was no way she didn’t feel that, there on top of me. “Look at me, Petre.”
I didn’t lift my head up. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. Don’t get me wrong. I just wanted to see what would happen if I refused to.
She used the barrel of the gun to lift my chin up. I stared at her straddling me. “What’s wrong, Petre? I asked a question. You didn’t say anything. Are you distracted?”
Truthfully, all memory of questions she’d asked before this point had vanished into a dull white void. The only thing I could even think about was this moment. I looked around. Ed was still asleep, thank god. I turned back to her. The barrel of the caterwauler was still under my chin. “It’s a big gun, is all.”
“Hm.” She shifted the barrel so that it was planted between my eyes. Pressed it in hard enough to leave a red imprint circled into my skin. She tilted my head back. My throat felt exposed. If this was all a trick and her real plan was to slit my throat, I decided in that moment it would be worth it. “Would you believe I’ve handled bigger?”
I licked my lips, still staring at the ceiling of the tent. “Makes two of us, then.”
“Oh?” She shifted her weight on my lap. My cock twitched. “You’ve handled guns before, have you?”
I wondered if she required a demonstration. So I leaned my head back even more. Brought my tongue up on the underside of the barrel. “A time or two,” I breathed, as I wrapped my mouth around the barrel. Made eye contact with her as I gave a demonstration. The barrel tasted like iron and the leather of my holster. And when I was done with it, I carried lines of saliva back with me.
“A time or two, was it?” She smacked the side of my face with the barrel twice. “I’m not sure if I believe you.”
I frowned. “Might be I lost count.”
“At two?”
“Makes sense.” She frowned. Leaned over with her forearms framing my face. “You don’t strike me as the type who likes to think.”
She smirked at me, and I twitched. “And what about it?”
She set the gun down. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’ll give you credit. I remember how good you are at following directions. For the most part.”
“For the most part? Have I been slacking?”
“You want to try mouthing off?”
“What happens if I do?”
She leaned into me, her breasts directly in my face. I felt her shift on top of me. Wriggling out of her small clothes. I cupped one in my hand. Craned my neck for a mouthful.
But Mercedes put her palm on my forehead. Lowered me away from there. “Down boy.”
“Speaking of mouthing,” I said under my breath.
“I’ve got a better use for yours.” Her thighs framed the sides of my face, and I saw her wince.
“What’s wrong?”
She laughed. “This stupid tent. You have no idea how hard this is on my knees.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll distract you.”
“I’m sure.” She slid herself over me, her cunt teasing my lips, engulfing my vision. The whole world became the sight and smell of her. Then she lowered herself onto me, and I tasted her too. “Go ahead. Mouth off as much as you like.”
I held my breath and pressed my tongue insistently against her. I reached to taste the heat of her, to feel the swell of her on the bed of my tongue. I hardly dared to breathe as she dug her fingers through my hair, nails finding purchase on the roots of my hair. Dragging me up, pressing me against her.
I molded my hands to fit her thighs as she pumped against the pressing of my tongue. Her heels dug in below my shoulder blades as a low groan worked its way out from under her chest.
I bucked into empty air while I worked my tongue against her while my head swam. I dug my nails into the small of her back as she pressed herself against me. Everything in and out of me compelled me to maintain the pace I’d found. I did not even dare to breathe. Her body seemed to quiver around my tongue. Shudders coming out from where I greeted her.
And when she climbed off me, air shuddered down into my lungs with shaky breath. The world was still dizzy, and I felt my trousers come down while I was catching my breath.
“Now,” Mercedes said under her breath, “do you have condoms?”
Fuck.
Shit.
Goddammit.
“Well,” I breathed. “You were so keen on making your arrival a surprise, I never thought to—”
Her fingers came down stiff and straight between my legs. My hips bucked on their own. I nearly yelped. The pain was electric. Almost made me wish she’d hit it hard enough to linger. “Brat,” she snapped.
“Brat. You gonna call me a little tike while you’re at—” I shut up when she closed her hand around my balls. She didn’t squeeze. Though the threat was there. “You really have no clue when to shut up, do you?”
“It’s never been a talent, I admit.”
“Makes me wonder if I ought to reward this kind of behavior. I’d hate to enable you.”
“Right. I forgot. You’d prefer if I was quiet and boring.”
Her squeeze jolted up into my stomach. I bolted upright, wrapped my hands around her forearms. “I did warn you,” she laughed. Then eased her hand up and down my cock slowly, turning her wrist. I moved my hips to the rhythm of her hand.
My hand was digging through her hair. The other: splayed fingers, nails digging in between her shoulder blades. Crushing her against me. I leaned back, dragged her with me.
She pressed her lips against mine, pushing down, pinning me between the cold ground and warm breath. She bit my lower lip a little too hard, forcing me to work for the grin she held down with her teeth. She pulled away without first letting go. Not until she’d dragged a grainy low violin-groan out from the back of my throat.
She slammed her hand over my mouth, looked to Edgar. But he just rolled over. So she deigned to ease the pressure. Just a bit.
“No, wait,” I breathed. “Do that again. I liked that.”
“Hm. Can I try something else instead.”
“Oh, would you?”
She wrapped her free hand round my throat. Squeezed from the sides. Dragged me up to her mouth, while I bucked my hips against her other hand, only managed a few more pumps before she let go, held her palm in front of my face.
“Lick.”
The world was dark and swimmy all around me as I dragged my tongue up from the heel of her hand. And she went back to working my cock, her other hand still round my throat. I could feel the imprint of her hand when I swallowed. She pressed her tongue down on the space above my collarbone, and I had to bite down so hard I left teeth impressions on my lower lip.
And the tension coiled out of me. Her hand was slick and warm and wet when I finished.
I wrapped my fingers around her wrist, as I caught my breath. Dragged her hand to my mouth and licked her clean. “Hey,” I breathed. “So about that.”
“What about it?”
“Was that—was it—were we?”
“You said you wouldn’t want to kiss me earlier. And like I said. I enjoy a challenge.”
I wasn’t sure if I should trust her answer. I mean nothing comes for free in this line of work, right?
Heh. Funny one. Nothing comes for free.
The Shaggy Shepherd 