Kes, once a lowly joygirl and now the most famous dominatrix on Lyndir, is nearing the end of paying off her enormous debt that originally cast her into slavery. Little does she know that one of her clients is the lynchpin in an enormous operation that will dictate who the next emperor is, a plot headed by someone willing to do anything— including co-opting medical experiments to clone and transform personalities.

Despite first impressions, and I ended up enjoying Splintegrate. It felt like a slog until about 50%, crammed full of intergalactic complex politics and medical techno-babble, but everything came together to deliver a tight final half that was part thriller and part black comedy of errors. Despite this being marketed as a standalone, I suspect I would have gotten into it much more quickly if I had read the author's other works in this universe.

There's some talk in other reviews of this being like a cyberpunk Kushiel's Dart, and I disagree. The BDSM elements of the Carey series are much more critical to the plot and to character development than this. Those books are also far more explicit than Splintegrate.

The story was lush and detailed. Unfortunately, the writing style didn't pull me in as much as I would have liked. This is definitely a personal preference thing, rather than a less than stellar writing thing. The writing is quite brilliant. I highly recommend everyone at least give it a few chapters. It may be your next favorite.

Like the best science fiction, Splintegrate is a novel of ideas, one that explores questions of identity on a number of levels. Deborah Teramis Christian delves deep into body modification, cybernetic implants, and cloning, while also taking a hard look at dominant/submissive roles, the question of slavery, and overlapping sexual identities.

Known to her clients as the Winter Goddess, Kes is a fantastic character, a strong woman and a sympathetic heroine. We first see her as a coldly professional dominatrix, costuming herself, setting a scene, and playing a role for Janus, a male client. There is emotion there, but it is one step removed from the moment. We next see her playing a flirtatious game of dominance and submission with her boss. In both of those cases there is unrequited love, an obsession others have with the ideal of the Winter Goddess. When we see her with Morya, a submissive from her original house, the full depth of Kes’ emotional identity is revealed. With her, we are introduced to a love that is genuine, passionate, and happily reciprocated, and yet still tied up with dominant and submissive identities . . . and somewhat restrained by questions of property.

Where the story gets really interesting is when Kes is forced into a highly secretive program – Splintegrate – that sees her unwittingly cloned, her personality splintered and reassembled, each clone having different pieces missing. That splintering allows the story to get even deeper into those issues of identity, exploring Kes and her relationships from different angles. Not only does it take us beyond dominance and submission, but into issues of loyalty and obligation. We are reminded how all the facets of our personality, the good and the bad, define us, and forced to take a hard look at what happens when facets are softened or removed to isolate and accentuate others.

Behind all of this is a tightly woven thriller dealing with plots both political and criminal, one that involves a game of succession at the highest levels of imperial power as well as the most dangerous levels of criminal authority. We see men and women willing to do anything for a cause, but we also see how personal wants, needs, and desires drive them to sometimes contradictory goals. Nothing about this story is clear-cut or obvious, and once the question of clones gets introduced, with imperial demands interfering with scientific discovery, further schisms between personal pride and professional duty begin pulling at the threads of that story.

At one point I’d heard Splintegrate described as “Kushiel’s Dart gone cyberpunk” but I don’t think it’s quite so clear-cut. Yes, there are absolutely parallels to Kushiel’s Dart in Kes’ role as a BDSM courtesan, flipped (of course) from submissive to dominant, and I think both books do an excellent job of exploring the erotic power exchange within a mainstream work of imaginative fiction, but there is a marked difference in sensuality between the two stories that I think sets them apart. There is a narrative point at which Splintegrate very clearly diverges from that comparison, becoming a true cyberpunk thriller in the final arc. It turns away from the question of BDSM identities and becomes instead an exploration of who and what lies beneath those identities. It’s some heady stuff, especially with the elements of hacking, artificial intelligence, and cloning woven into the mix, but that’s precisely what a good science fiction tale should be.

This story reads like a twisted episode of Black Mirror - not one that you hurriedly discuss with friends, one that strikes a chord within you that leaves you so rattled you want to forget the experience and simply move on lest it seeps into your psyche and keeps you awake at night. I went into this book expecting a mature sci-fi universe that explores erotic themes without the vapid narrative of superficial smut. And I got that, definitely. It's beautifully written and clever and delves into the psychology of dominant/submissive, master/slave relationships that many books either are too scared to explore or are too preoccupied with meaningless sex to bother with. The world-building is exquisite and wholly unique, if not a little hard to understand at first. I appreciated that the author allowed us to learn through experiencing the world firsthand rather than explaining through dense dialogue spouting nonstop exposition. By 50% I was pretty well acclimated and understood the basics of the world, though I can see how some might find it arduous to get to. The main character is strong and beautiful and completely her own person in a world of unrelenting hardship and oppression. And the FF romance was tender and sensual and rooted in vicariously felt emotion.

The personal struggles in finishing this book came from the body-modification/medical elements to this story that were used to manipulate our heroine, who I loved and rooted for profusely. The events were particularly upsetting and gruesome in my opinion and had me considering putting the book down entirely. I understand that this is a completely personal and subjective reaction that other readers might not be phased by, and it should be said that it did not take away the effectiveness or articulation of the story.

I was torn on this one. The writing style is brilliantly done, following an almost mesmerizing cadence that highlights the incredible complexities of this novel’s world. While I greatly admired the talent, I couldn’t keep up with the story and kept getting lost. I think it would have helped if I’d read the other book set in this world. As it stands, I loved the writing but couldn’t get into the story enough to properly evaluate.