Book Review: Sky Shielder (Fire and Fang #1) by Lindsay Buroker
When I heard that Lindsay Buroker was back with a new fantasy series, Sky Shielder caught my attention like a moth to a flame. An author whose wit and creativity have brightened many of my reading adventures, I dove in with high hopes. Unfortunately, my journey through the pages took a detour I hadn’t anticipated, leaving me more disappointed than enchanted.
From the outset, the book promises a dynamic world filled with dragons, magic, and political intrigue—elements I usually adore. However, by the time I reached the 67% mark, I found myself reluctantly closing the cover, my enthusiasm dwindling. Buroker is, without a doubt, an adept writer; the flow is smooth, the humor sharp, and her ability to conjure vivid scenes remains impressive. Yet, this time, the characters faltered in a way that overshadowed the narrative’s strengths.
Let’s talk about our male lead—the so-called "mighty man" character (MMC)—who grapples with his own set of morally questionable standards. He considers it dishonorable to personally kill “weak” people but shows no qualms about his faction razing entire cities. My heart sank as I watched him dismiss those seeking peaceful resolutions. It’s difficult to root for a hero who exhibits such blatant hypocrisy, especially in a fantasy realm where complexity can abound. It left me feeling frustrated rather than fascinated.
On the other hand, our female lead (MFC) can only be described as naïve, chasing after half-baked ideas while ignoring glaring red flags regarding our MMC. Her gullibility became increasingly irritating, considering that nearly every character around her saw through his facade. It’s one thing to have a character overcome obstacles, but another to place them repeatedly in dangerous situations due solely to a lack of judgment. This trait, combined with an unsettling sense of selfishness, further alienated me from her journey.
And while we’re on the subject of tropes, Buroker’s dragons exuded an obnoxious superiority complex that felt overdone. If individual characters displayed snobbery, it might be believable, but portraying an entire species as instinctively arrogant seems like a tired approach that did little to enhance the world-building.
Despite my reservations, I can still appreciate the moments of humor and the well-crafted dialogue peppered throughout the book. Buroker’s writing has a way of drawing you in—even when the themes feel disheartening. I found joy in her natural knack for constructing witty exchanges and uplifting banter.
In conclusion, I wanted so much more from Sky Shielder. For those who enjoy tales of fantasy blended with characters that lean toward the morally ambiguous—or perhaps relish a more traditional approach to dragons and love—this might still be a worthwhile read. However, I find myself hesitant to continue with the series, hoping that the next offering from Lindsay Buroker might align more closely with the charm and depth I once adored. For now, I’ll just be re-reading some of her earlier works, holding onto the hope that her lauded ability to create absorbing characters isn’t lost entirely.
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