This review is based on the CD release from AudioGo, and contains minor spoilers.

"I have a terrible premonition- something’s coming in your future, a destiny that you can’t escape..."

You can’t help but admire the ambition of AudioGo and Big Finish - whereas in any other year these two audiobook publishers would have resigned themselves to their regular self-contained classic Doctor story arcs, for the 50th they’ve devised quite the gambit in order to sate the appetites of fans. Joining forces, the two teams will provide us with Destiny Of The Doctor over the course of 2013, linking eleven monthly tales featuring each incarnation of everyone’s favourite Time Lord with an overarching tale of epic adventure.

Aptly enough for a year that’s as much focused on reliving the glory days of classic Who as it is looking to the future, the first instalment of this multi-Doctor arc takes us back to the very beginning. Hunters Of Earth is a compelling and layered jaunt back to 1960s London, Coal Hill School, abandoned junkyards and all. More than that, though, writer Nigel Robinson has paid delicate attention to evoking an atmosphere that’s wholly reminiscent of that Swinging era of British history. From the Beatles to transistor radios, from teen cultures to ‘alien’ xenophobia references, there’s plenty for the elder fans among us to sink their teeth into throughout.

Of course, creating a meaningful rendition of the decade that saw the show’s inception is all well and good, yet it results to little if there’s an insubstantial narrative at an audiobook’s core. Thankfully, for the most part that’s not the case with Hunters, which boasts a compelling (if simplistic) opening chapter for the Destiny arc. We follow Hartnell’s First Doctor and his granddaughter Susan in the midst of a startling disruption to their safe abode from the residents of Earth. Soon enough, both Time Lords are thrown into a disturbingly human conspiracy, the implications of which stretch further than the Doctor can possibly imagine.

Were this release’s storyline to focus solely on this tale of upheaval and suspicion, then to a degree it would be a rather disappointing standalone romp. What makes the narrative a more successful endeavour on Robinson’s part is undoubtedly its implied connections to a wider plot arc set to develop over the course of the ten future adventures still to come in the Destiny range. Without delving too far into spoiler territory, this reviewer will at least hint that a figure from the Doctor’s future seems to have a role to play down the line, donning a Fez of wisdom to offer subtle guidance to his past self which will presumably help to solve an impending crisis for his later incarnations. On top of that, Susan’s abilities to read the minds of others and gaze into the voids of time could have unearthed an ominous prophecy which her grandfather would do well to heed in days to come...

On the topic of the Doctor’s first on-screen companion, it’s lovely to have Carole Ann Ford on board for Destiny’s premiere outing. Carole’s work here is similar to that of the Companion Chronicles range, blending third-person narration of the situation at hand in 1963 with in-character dialogue from her original character that should have classic fans swooning and reminiscing in an instant. It appears that perhaps it was something of a stretch to ask Carole to mimic both Hartnell’s crotchety tones and broad teenage accents at regular intervals alongside her reprisal of the role of Susan, yet at least with Tam Williams on board there’s sufficient help at hand to ensure that there’s balance in the character portrayals.

There are one or two notable missteps by Robinson, however. Although replicating the inherently human threats of the Hartnell era was undoubtedly a bold and successful move, I couldn’t help but register the rushed science-fiction fuelled explanation of the antagonists’ nature that was shoehorned into the climax of the adventure- there was a sense of simple necessity about the resolution which felt rather jarring in contrast to the human adversaries of the first half. In addition, while the Destiny elements heighten the success of the plot considerably, in that sense it’s difficult not to recall that without these subsidiary arcs starting to develop, the core narrative is lacking in direction or real depth.

Nevertheless, those shortcomings don’t really detract to any major degree. Hunters Of Earth remains a thoroughly engaging initial chapter in the Destiny Of The Doctor range, strongly replicating the feel of the First Doctor era in both its sounds (the special FX and eerie musical cues add considerable atmosphere too) and its narrative. It acts as both a suitable dose of nostalgia for long-term fans and a stunning entryway point for anyone who’s yet to get hooked on either of Who’s expanded universe audio ranges.

Better yet, there’s a real sense of foreboding tension already beginning to build towards future instalments, hinting at a dark battle for Gallifrey’s most infamous resident in his eleventh incarnation. Even with the extensive TV celebratory offerings alone, Doctor Who’s 50th Anniversary was always looking like a perfect prospect for fans, yet with this breathtaking new audio saga, Big Finish and AudioGo have confirmed that with Destiny Of The Doctor as a foundation, there’s going to be plenty more to sate fans’ appetites in what should be the show’s greatest year yet.

This review contains plot spoilers and is based on the UK edition of the ebook.

The second of Puffin’s e-shorts, this story focuses on the second Doctor and Jamie McCrimmon. At times it reads rather like Lovecraft lite: Howard Phillips Lovecraft’s own short story called ‘The Nameless City’ was published in 1921 and dealt with ancient ruins sung of by the (fictional) Necronomicon's "mad poet."

The Necronomicon also makes an appearance in Michael Scott’s story, and his beaked, clawed and octopus-like monsters are reminiscent of the Cthulu Mythos. I wonder just how appropriate these Lovecraftian debts are: when the TV series threatens to become ‘too scary’ for young viewers then negative commentary never seems far away, but perhaps different rules apply to the written word rather than the visual image. In any case, readers don’t have to know Lovecraft to follow the story: it’s more a bonus layer of meaning for those who get the references.

On the whole, then, this is a deft mix of Lovecraftian elements and Doctor Who history: Jamie meets a mysterious bookseller named Professor Thascalos who is presumably a well-known character drawn from the Doctor’s past (and future), whilst Vengeance on Varos’s Zeiton-7 forms a further part of events. And the second Doctor is typically well represented via a scattering of iconic dialogue and artefacts: “ when I say run, run” gets an outing, for instance, as does the Doctor’s recorder playing.

If this anniversary series partly retools Doctor Who for today’s younger readers, another emerging pattern seems to be that these ebooks make heavy use of other fantastic literature. Last month’s title was ultimately indebted to a very famous children’s fantasy, whilst this story focuses on connections to Lovecraft’s cosmic horror, and begins in 1968 on Charing Cross Road, itself renowned for its range of second-hand and collectors’ bookshops. It’ll be intriguing to see whether this bibliophilic, bookish strand continues through later e-shorts, but such is its prominence in Eoin Colfer’s A Big Hand For The Doctor and here, it’s tempting to suppose that “include elements drawn from well-known fantasy literature” was part of Puffin’s brief to writers. Time will tell whether such a device does indeed tie the whole sequence of short stories together, or whether it’s just a first and second Doctor coincidence. (Will Charlie Higson pop up with an Ian Fleming-influenced third Doctor story? Which Doctor should be re-worked via H.G. Wells or Jules Verne?).

Michael Scott doesn't just emulate Who, he also improvises a few new tunes using the show's established elements. Particularly striking is how the Doctor looks out of the TARDIS’s Police Box windows at one point, given that unlike latter-day Doctor Who, the TARDIS of this era didn’t include Police Box doors as part of its console room set-up. And the TARDIS’s organic nature, emphasized in ‘new Who’, is also cleverly seeded into Scott’s scenario.

There’s a recurring sense that this short story wants to introduce readers to the pleasures of culture beyond television. As well as featuring Charing Cross and its bookshops, the TARDIS materializes at the back of the National Portrait Gallery, and Jamie doesn’t just muse about how big the TARDIS interior is, he wonders “how many rooms, galleries, museums and libraries” it contains. Here there may be shadowy schemes and terrifyingly powerful forces from beyond time, but there are also books and galleries and music threaded into the story’s background and foreground alike. It’s Doctor Who coded as a culturally edifying vehicle. With freaky monsters. And the Book of the Dead.

One difficulty with the short story form is that there’s relatively little space and time available to set up and resolve an epic adventure. Consequently, the Doctor’s scheme to defeat an ancient evil existing before Gallifrey is only given minor foreshadowing, and seems to emerge almost out of nowhere. Nevertheless, I can imagine the story’s ending appealing both to younger readers and to admirers of Jamie McCrimmon. And curious conclusions have a long track record in official, original Doctor Who literature, going all the way back to 1960’s Doctor Who and the Invasion from Space, where galactic invaders were foiled in a truly absurd fashion. By comparison, Michael Scott’s storytelling is far stronger, artfully weaving together Lovecraft and loved continuity, even if his finale does strike a slightly off note.

A notable improvement on January’s ebook, this feels much more like Doctor Who, and Scott’s representation of the second Doctor comes far closer to deserving the description “as seen on DVD”. However, with the appearance of Professor Thascalos, and the TARDIS apparently being stranded on Earth, there’s also a definite flavour of the following era: this is very much the second Doctor retroactively composed in the light of what’s to come. Perhaps Scott’s preferred era is really that of the third Doctor, and he just couldn’t resist smuggling in a few series-travelling tropes ahead of time. (Or may be he was expecting to write a Pertwee story, and got bumped up the schedule). But whether it’s coloured by passion or pragmatism, The Nameless City is a definite credit to Scott’s authorial name, skillfully bridging Doctor Who’s eras and offering up a smartly intertextual, atmospheric tale.

This review contains plot spoilers and is based on the UK edition of the ebook.

This title kicks off Puffin’s monthly series of ‘eshorts’ (or short stories available electronically), featuring the first Doctor and his granddaughter Susan. Having recently rewatched An Unearthly Child at the BFI, and also having recently read Phil Sandifer’s sharp analysis of Kim Newman’s Time and Relative novella, the first thing that struck me about Eoin Colfer’s story was how unrecognisable his first Doctor seemed to be. This rendition isn’t loath to intervene, acting like a sort of anti-hero or proto-hero (as in Newman’s pre-Unearthly Child tale). No, this version of the William Hartnell Doctor has been busy pursuing Soul Pirates through space and time in order to combat their evil ways. He’s a swashbuckling action hero trapped in an ageing body. He even sees visions of his later and more physical selves, mainly so that younger readers can be reminded that this figure is the same character played today by Matt Smith. It’s a device, a convenience, that probably wreaks havoc with Doctor Who continuity, but neither Colfer nor whoever signed off on this short story are overly concerned with capturing the spirit of 1960s Who. Instead, the Doctor is a generic do-gooder who refers to things such as Hogwarts, referencing pop culture familiar to 2013 readers.

And as if symbolic of the way that Colfer has grafted his own approach into the world of the first Doctor, the integrity of the Time Lord’s body has also been violated. He’s lost a hand – sliced off by a Soul Pirate Captain – and so has to make do with a two-fingered ceramic model housed inside an ill-gendered spare. Surely Colfer isn’t putting two literary fingers up at fans who might be dismayed by this turn of events? Although the mental image of William Hartnell’s Doctor sporting a woman’s hand, painted fingernails and all, is certainly a striking and incongruous one, it’s not quite how I expected to be thinking of the first Doctor at the beginning of this anniversary year. It’s a good gag, sure. But it's one that isn’t afraid to ride roughshod over the dignity of the Doctor. This is a full-blooded contrast to the first Doctor instalment of Destiny of the Doctor, and each series looks set to work in very different ways for very different audiences. Destiny is era-appropriate fan service, while this eshort strikes a vastly revisionist, irreverent tone. This is Doctor Who’s history rewritten from a present-day perspective, enclosing younger readers in demographic now-ness rather than truly opening a window on mysterious other times.

And Doctor Who of fifty years ago, a strange and wonderful and enigmatic thing, is further reworked here as a burst of auteurist whimsy. Yes, Colfer’s authorial voice shines through – making this part of a marketing strategy where ‘name’ authors take the Doctor in hand – but I still would’ve liked to witness more of a meeting of author and character rather than the scales being tipped very much in the writer’s favour. And some jokes (e.g. a Time Lord known as the Interior Designer) breezily transform Gallifrey into a planet of Time Morons. The Doctor himself is depicted as unsmiling, and chided about his unrelaxed state, as if readers are being warned they need to take what follows in good humour.

Without spoilering the story’s Epilogue, there is a neat twist that frames Colfer’s heightened fantasy version of Who. H.G. Wells and his time machine have made a few appearances across Doctor Who’s lifespan, with ‘scientifiction’ (early science fiction) being positioned as one source for the Doctor’s time-travelling adventures. Colfer takes a rather different intertextual tack, however, in line with his genre-shifting towards children's fantasy adventure, and in the end this conceit works rather beautifully. It’s a handy pay-off which bathes events in a clever, new glow. And it makes excellent use of the short story form; there can be little doubting Colfer’s skill as a writer. Indeed, he retraces Douglas Adams' fingerprints here by adding Who as well as The Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy to his CV.

Like The Coming of the Terraphiles before it, though, this title is more concerned with being a publishing industry ‘event’ than with addressing fandom’s notions of authenticity. In short, this simply isn’t speaking to long-term adult fans. The signal it sends, loud and clear, is that the 50th anniversary is for all sorts of audiences, and for varied generations who have become fascinated by the Doctor. It's a post-Potter first Doctor. Bill Hartnell for Generation Z. And perhaps such diversity and plurality can only be a good thing.

That said, this eshort still sticks out like a sore thumb.