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I finished Dragons Luck yesterday, the second in Robert Asprins new "Dragons" series.
And, the author having died a year ago, almost certainly the last.
These books aren't going to redefine the genre, but they're both good, solid books. They come back to the author's strengths with none of the frustrations that I've had with some of his series which picked up co-authors late in the game and, to my mind, suffered for it.
As I was coming to the last chapters of Luck, I felt terribly sad. That this was the last book he'd ever write. That he had had so much enthusiasm for the series that he'd managed to speed through two novels in what must have been little more than a year (anyone who kept up with the pace of the Myth books when he was sole author could tell you how remarkable that must have been.) This was his return to books in which he claimed sole authorship- and they were good.
And, naturally, having not expected to have a heart attack, he left threads hanging for the next book in the series.
These were books that made me feel the passing of the author like the loss of an old familiar friend. If you like Asprin, I recommend them without reservation. But oh, how I wish he could have spent more of the last years of his life writing books like this, rather than, say, fighting with the IRS.
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