Thraxas and the Warrior Monks

Martin Millar can be very good. His werewolf series is excellent, and some of his one-offs, such as The Good Fairies of New York, are fine comedies, born of an admirably twisted imagination feeding off punk pop culture, Celtic mythology and whatever comes to hand. His writing is canny, clever, no showing off.

But the Thraxas novels somehow fall flat for this reader. I was unable to raise an interest in either of the main characters or in the story lines, and didn't managed to finish the second in the series. They seemed like pot-boilers of the nail soup variety.