**edit 12/23/13: I ended up doing a reread. I'm keeping the first-read review here, but you can find the updated review at http://pagefault.booklikes.com/post/7... . 
 In a sudden, overwhelming rush of light and noise and music and emotion and knowledge, Sharon Li becomes an urban shaman. And just like that, it's gone again. But Sharon Li isn't one to wait on the universe; as a yoga-deep-breathing, self-help-reading, blue-haired optimist, she decides to take her problems to the internet. She sets up a Facebook group ("Weird Shit Keeps Happening to me and I Don't Know Why But I Figure I Need Help,"), which quickly becomes the Magicals Anonymous self-help meeting. Once a week, misunderstood necromancers, art-loving banshees, hypochondriac vampires, gourmand trolls, and hay-fever-hindered druids gather in a circle of creaky folding chairs and introduce themselves to a chorus of "hello's", then tell their stories to a sympathetic, tea-drinking audience. But Sharon and her motley crew aren't left to talk out their problems in peace. Souls are being stolen from the city, the Midnight Mayor can do nothing, and only an urban shaman can bring back balance. It would be a lot easier if all those supernatural monsters weren't after her, though... 
 Hi, I'm Carly (Hello Carly) and I'm addicted to urban fantasy. 
 So, yeah, I know there are worse things I could be addicted to--Starbucks coffee habits take a bigger bite of your budget--but it's becoming a real problem. See, I crave the stuff with originality and creativity and whimsy and imagination, and they're increasingly hard to find. Fortunately, Kate Griffin is here to feed my habit with stories chock full of urban magic, toothpaste-chomping goblins, and ninja builders. The light-hearted, quirky character of the book is reflected in its structure. Its short chapters, which tell Sharon's story from the third-person perspective, are each emblazoned with a vapid self-help platitude ("One Door Closes, Another Opens", "Reflect But Do Not Dwell Upon the Past", etc). These are liberally interleaved with mini-chapters in which each character introduces him/herself in extremely colloquial first person. I really enjoyed the structure; it might be a bit gimmicky, but the choppy chapters do a wonderful job in tempering Griffin's rather elaborate stream-of-consciousness prose and are an excellent fit for the mood of the book. As someone who hears character voices in my head, I found that the conversational style and slang brought the characters to life. 
 One striking difference between Stray Souls and the Matthew Swift books, Griffin's previous series, is the overall tone. While the Matthew Swift books have a tendency towards earnest moralisation, Stray Souls is far lighter. Griffin doesn't try to leverage tragedies in the plot to delve into deeper moral issues, which I think provided a better fit for the eccentric characters and farcical scenes. Unlike the desperately unhappy Matthew Swift, Sharon Li is a very cheerful person, as she should be--she certainly works hard at it. Sharon is an inveterate self-actualiser; she practices deep breathing, repeats a catechism of self-encouragement to herself in times of trial, has a tendency towards evening classes and the self-help section of the library, and almost always attempts to be "nice." Most importantly to me, unlike the ever-isolated Matthew, Sharon is indeed a people person, and quickly collects a coterie of quirky sidekicks who may or may not be more trouble than they are worth; as she puts it, 
 "Along with a bleeding druid, a wailing vampire, a toothpaste-addicted goblin, a gourmet troll and a socially inhibited banshee, not to mention there's this confused sorcerer who is not as much use as he should be, plus there's a hundred pigeons to round up. And if that weren't enough, my social life is a mess, my job prospects are nil, and I haven't got a boyfriend." 
 From a quick glance at the reviews, I seem to be in the minority in liking Stray Souls as much or more than the Matthew Swift books, and the difference of tone seems to be a major flaw for many readers. The book still involves a relentless killer stalking the streets, but for once, the adventure isn't littered with the bodies of dead comrades (dead yes, comrades no). As someone who dislikes reading books in which the characters that I have emotionally invested in die horrific deaths, if someone has to die, I strongly prefer redshirts. Personally, I think Griffin has hit her stride: the less intense human tragedy better matches the whimsicality and creativity of the world that she creates. 
 The only major flaw, for me, (view spoiler)[other than the contrived ending--seriously, weren't there better ways to get Edna killed rather than an ever-so-convenient afterthought during the villain's escape? (hide spoiler)] was the characterisation Matthew Swift. Swift, the protagonist of the earlier series, has become an avatar of the city and is now too powerful, too static, and too inhuman to be the main protagonist. While I applaud Griffin's decision to change focus, I don't think she quite succeeded in relegating him to the background. To limit Swift's involvement, Griffin made him both impressively incompetent and irritatingly cryptic. If you compare his pathetic excuses with his comments in Midnight Mayor, his hands-off policy is horribly hypocritical. Although I understand the story's need for such contrivances, I found him frustratingly rude and inept and found my emotional investment from the previous books quickly dissolving. My sense of alienation was accentuated by Griffin's tendency to refer to him as "The Midnight Mayor" or "the sorcerer" rather than "Matthew" or even "Swift"; I am always rather startled by the dehumanising effect of withholding a name. This book takes place after the Matthew Swift series, and while I would initially have recommended Midnight Mayor as a prerequisite to even understand what is going on, I'm not sure anything will make Matthew comprehensible. (NOTE: if you choose to read this before the Matthew Swift books, Griffin doesn't provide recaps, so here are the Cliff Notes:(view spoiler)[ 
 --Matthew Swift is a sorcerer--that means he draws magic from a deep understanding of and connection to the city. Why doesn't that help with the situation here? Never really explained. Just roll with it. 
 --Matthew also had a special connection with the lost voices of the telephone wires, spirits which call themselves the electric blue angels. 
 --Swift was murdered by his mentor, Mr Bakker, after he refused to help Mr Bakker to use the angels to extend his life. With his last dying breath, he sent his spirit down the telephone wires to dance eternally with the electric blue angels. Bakker went on to murder most of the other magical practitioners in the city. 
 --Two years after his death, Swift was brought back to life, but the electric angels came along with him. Now he's a weird medley of dead sorcerer and electric angel and has a tendency to refer to himself in first person plural. He rounded up a mini-army of magical allies, and killed Mr Bakker and took down his organization. 
 --A while after that, the Midnight Mayor, protector of the city, was murdered by a supernatural being called the Death of Cities; the Midnight Mayor landed the job on Swift, possibly with the goal of getting Swift killed. The Aldermen, the servants of the Mayor, were not thrilled. Hence the little issues he mentions with his underlings. 
 And now you're up to date on the events of Madness of Angels and Midnight Mayor! 
 (hide spoiler)] Honestly, Matthew Swift comes off as an utter pillock, and now I'm dreading that the next few books will be Swift's journey from Annikin to Darth Vader--I can't quite believe that the personality switch is just the effects of seeing him via third person. (view spoiler)[The most problematic aspect, for me, was his use of the evil sorcerers as bait for the dog, and his complete insensitivity to their demise. (hide spoiler)] Maybe I just like the angels better than Matthew. I admit that I greatly enjoyed his presence: Swift has an almost Miles-Vorkosigan-like tendency to "happen to" people and I found myself laughing at the other characters' varied reactions to him. One of my favourites: 
 "'Is that something to do with us, Mr Swift?' 
 'You know, Mrs Rafaat, I think it might be.' 
 'But all that glass! That's going to cost a fortune to replace.' 
 'That's what makes me think it might be something to do with us.' 
 'Do you think everyone is all right?' 
 'Well, personally I find massive symptoms of architectural destruction a rather positive indication.' 
 'That's because you're incompetent, sorcerer.'" 
 All of the characters--including Matthew--fall somewhere on the scale between engaging and disturbing, and I warmed to almost all of them. Although some, like the hypochondriac vampire Kevin, were on the stereotyped side, I liked most of Sharon's gang, from Rhys the tech support druid to the gentle troll Gretel. Not all of the magical misfits are exactly pleasant people--the necromancer is a dubious character at best, and I found the surly goblin more irritating than entertaining--but their flaws serve to make them more interesting. I think the book's character mini-chapters proved to be a very effective way of (literally) giving each character a distinctive voice.As usual, I felt quite a bit of unwilling sympathy for the villains(view spoiler)[, although in this case, I felt far more sorry for the wendigo than his human helpers (hide spoiler)]. I quite liked Sharon; outwardly rather ditsy, she is fiercely determined to "be the best she can be," which most definitely does not involve acting as a damsel in distress. Take her attitude on the subject of brow-mopping: 
 "'You know that thing where the guy gets injured, heroically fighting off monsters and that? And then he gets all romantically feverish and kind of sexily sweaty and stuff? And then there's this girl who sits by him and mops his brow with cold water? I can't be having any of that. I just don't see how it makes any sense, because you know how the girl is usually 'Do I care?' at the start, and by the end is 'Wow I love this guy, he's needy?' I've never seen why I should come over all vapid for needy. Or, in fact, why sweaty is sexy. Sweaty smells.'" 
 Yet again, the crazy antics creative worldbuilding plastered a smile on my face throughout. Although the book does have a few flaws, Griffin's fantastic imagination makes up for them.(view spoiler)[The scene (pp357) where Sharon talks down the guards was just absolutely amazing. (hide spoiler)] When I finished, I was wavering between 4.4 and 4.5, but the incident with the magical swarm of plastic bags flapping around like malignant jellyfish made up my mind: a 4.5 it is. 
 So, anyway, yeah, my name is Carly. 
 I'm naff at tea but I can brew a fair coffee. 
 So, um, I guess I was just wondering--can I join Magicals Anonymous? 
 I can bring the mugs. 
 Note: I received this book through the Goodreads First Reads promotional program.