A- #BookReview: Old Scores by Will Thomas

A- #BookReview: Old Scores by Will ThomasOld Scores (Barker & Llewelyn, #9) by Will Thomas
Format: ebook
Source: purchased from Amazon
Formats available: hardcover, paperback, ebook, audiobook
Genres: historical fiction, historical mystery
Series: Barker & Llewelyn #9
Pages: 294
Published by Minotaur Books on October 3, 2017
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

When a Japanese diplomat is murdered, and Cyrus Barker is the prime suspect, Barker and sidekick Llewelyn must work against the clock to find the real killer.
In London of 1890, the first Japanese diplomatic delegation arrives in London to open an embassy in London. Cyrus Barker, private enquiry agent and occasional agent for the Foreign Service Office, is enlisted to display his personal Japanese garden to the visiting dignitaries.
Later that night, Ambassador Toda is shot and killed in his office and Cyrus Barker is discovered across the street, watching the very same office, in possession of a revolver with one spent cartridge.
Arrested by the Special Branch for the crime, Barker is vigorously interrogated and finally released due to the intervention of his assistant, Thomas Llewelyn, and his solicitor. With the London constabulary still convinced of his guilt, Barker is hired by the new Japanese ambassador to find the real murderer.
In a case that takes leads Barker and Llewelyn deep into parts of London's underworld, on paths that lead deep into Barker's own mysterious personal history, Old Scores is the finest yet in Will Thomas's critically acclaimed series.

My Review:

Nine books into the Barker & Llewelyn series, the adventures in which and of which are chronicled by the pen of Cyrus Barker’s once-apprentice and now fully licensed assistant private enquiry agent Thomas Llewelyn, it’s not a surprise to either the reader or Llewelyn that Barker has plenty of old scores to settle in this middle of his fascinating but hard-knock life.

It’s possibly even less of a surprise to Llewelyn that his ‘Guv’ has made more than enough enemies over the course of that remarkable life that there are an equal if not greater number of people who have old scores to settle with HIM.

The case in Old Scores begins seemingly innocuously, with the visit of a group of Japanese dignitaries to Barker’s authentic and beautiful Japanese garden – a sanctuary hidden behind his London townhouse.

After a frenzy of preparation, the visit itself seems to go quite well. With two notable exceptions. The British official escorting the party is a boor who displays his contempt for these prestigious guests with his every utterance. And it’s clear to Thomas Llewelyn that his Guv is already well acquainted with one member of the party – and that whatever history lies between Barker and the Japanese official is of long and painful standing.

(The treatment of the Japanese delegation by British officials is reminiscent of their contemptuous treatment of Chinese officials in the excellent The Murder of Mr. Ma by John Shen Yen Nee and SJ Rozan – in spite of the several decades that lie between the two mysteries.)

The story in Old Scores is a combination of the chance that ‘the enemy of my enemy might be my friend’ – at least temporarily – and ‘too many cooks spoil not just the soup but the whole entire meal’.

The Japanese delegation is fractured beyond repair even before the members start dropping like flies. The British are trying to gain a foothold in Japan to counter American ambitions in Asia, the Japanese want to oust the Americans from the position of power they took by force in 1853 AND they have imperial ambitions of their own, while the question of whether the future of the country lies in returning to the traditionalism and isolationism of the past or is best served by embracing the world as it is in hopes of controlling as much of it as possible. The members of the delegation display all of these possible outcomes in microcosm – and with deadly results.

And in the middle of it all is a contest between Cyrus Barker and the man who murdered his wife – back when Barker was considerably younger and possibly just a bit more naive than the implacable man he became after that terrible loss.

Escape Rating A-: It’s not really a surprise that I picked Old Scores (and also the preceding short story, An Awkward Way to Die – which was fun but there just wasn’t enough there there for a review) out of the virtually towering TBR pile over the weekend. The Barker & Llewelyn series has become a comfort read for me, portraying a world that may be more than a century gone but is easy to slip right back into thanks to the pen of author Will Thomas. I needed to get AWAY, as far as mentally possible, from the combination of anxiety and vitriol that marks this year’s U.S. election.

So I returned to the Victorian setting where Cyrus Barker always gets his man and his second in command, Thomas Llewelyn, does his best to chronicle the case, make sure the bills get paid, and support his ‘Guv’ in every way possible. Even when Barker is doing his usual damndest to keep all of his cards VERY close to his vest – up to and including the cards that Llewelyn – as his backup – really, really needs to know.

This is a case that DEFINITELY has its awkward aspects. Barker keeps entirely too many secrets about his past. Which he’s entitled to, but not if those secrets threaten to get his whole entire household killed or imprisoned. Which in this case they definitely are.

The result is that Llewelyn flails around at points when he shouldn’t have to. This is a case that hinges on things that his Guv hasn’t told him – secrets that are 20+ years old at this point. One can empathize both with Barker’s desire to let the past remain in the past AND Llewelyn’s desire not to end up dead.

We don’t expect Llewelyn to get to the solution ahead of his boss, but neither do we expect his boss to leave him quite so completely in the dark. It’s a bit of a conundrum that leaves our chronicler stumbling around in that dark more than is usual for this series. I’m here for the competence porn, and Barker made that more difficult than usual on several fronts.

But in the end, what carries the story, as always, are the characters and their ever more deeply entwined relationships. So this book did exactly what I picked it up for – it took me far, far away from the problems of today.

In the end, the story does reveal a very great deal about Cyrus Barker before he became the man that Llewelyn met in the first book in the series, Some Danger Involved. I expect to see more consequences of this book’s revelations in the following books in the series.

I’ll certainly be picking up Blood Is Blood the next time I’m looking for a comforting murder to sink my reading teeth into.

#GuestPost: Election Day 2024: Readings

Pins labeled "Vote" with American flag iconography.
Surprisingly – or maybe not – the first American to vote from outer space did so while on a Russian space station.

Rule §81.35 of the Texas Administrative Code:

(a) A person who meets the eligibility requirements of a voter under the Texas Election Code, Chapter 101, but who will be on a space flight during the early-voting period and on election day, may vote under this chapter. In order to vote by this method, the voter must apply by a Federal Postcard Application (“FPCA”) and meet the requisite deadlines under state law. The FPCA may be submitted by fax or other electronic means.

(b) The National Aeronautics and Space Administration (“NASA”) shall submit in writing to the Secretary of State a method of transmitting and receiving a secret ballot for persons on a space flight during an election period. The Secretary of State shall approve, deny, or request further information from NASA on the proposed method of transmission.

(c) Proposed changes to an approved ballot transmission method shall be submitted in writing to the Secretary of State for approval.

The legislation that enabled this was passed after astronaut John Blaha attempted but failed to vote while in orbit (the state of Texas had no laws permitting electronic ballots at the time). After the law was passed, David Wolf was the first astronaut to successfully vote in orbit from Mir.

Of course, Americans find themselves voting from other remote locations. Paul Coldren writing about voting from Antarctica:

Since I was in Antarctica during the Fall 2022 election, it was important for me to figure out a way to reliably participate in elections at the federal, state, and local levels.

I haven’t moved to Antarctica; I’m simply temporarily residing in Antarctica. I’m still a San Francisco resident and therefore eligible to vote in local elections.


When I got to Antarctica, to my surprise, I already had an updated voter registration card waiting for me! It flew down on one of the Winfly flights; it might have even been my flight. Even though I’m getting the ballot via email, they still send a physical confirmation card. This was my first piece of mail I received in Antarctica.

Americans have also found themselves voting from the battlefield, though setting up the mechanics to support this was heavily contested during WW2:

Debate over the bill divided legislators along both partisan and regional lines. Initial drafts of the bill mandated that no soldier would be required to pay a poll tax or make any other type of payment in order to vote. This provision infuriated representatives of the eight southern states (all former members of the Confederacy) that continued to use poll taxes in order to disenfranchise African American voters. Some congressmen accused their southern colleagues of blocking the Soldier Voting Act’s passage just because it might benefit African Americans in uniform. Representative John Jennings of Tennessee vehemently declared that African Americans “are citizens of this country, they are its defenders, and they have the right to vote.” With less than two months to go before the election of 1942, Jennings and his allies finally secured the votes necessary to override supporters of the poll tax. The final bill was signed into law on September 16, 1942. Among the bill’s provisions, it guaranteed that “every individual absent from the place of his residence and serving in the land or naval forces of the United States” was entitled to vote in elections for federal offices.” It also contained a provision which stated that “No person in military service in time of war shall be required, as a condition of voting in any election… to pay any poll tax.”

In the wake of this improbable victory, the bill still failed to live up to its sponsors’ hopes. A mere 28,000 service members, out of nearly four million men and women in uniform in 1942, voted in the election. While the late passage of the bill gave states little time to prepare ballots and send them to soldiers, the bill also failed to make any provisions for soldiers serving overseas to vote. This omission stemmed from the opinion of War Department representatives, who informed Congress that the demands of wartime shipping and slow mail service overseas would preclude the return of overseas soldiers’ ballots by the election.

It’s easier to vote from overseas now, in part thanks to the Federal Voting Assistance Program.

As Andy Craig put it, America has a glorious tradition of voting:

The state is at its core the institution of violence, the monopoly on the use of force. It is odd that we limit this propensity by expanding the number of people who participate in it, who have a hand in directing it, but the arrangement works like no other can. It is undeniable that democracies have been more liberal, more prosperous, more rights-respecting than any of their autocratic alternatives. They are not immune from rebellions, coups, civil wars, chaos and disorder, blood in the streets, nor from committing massive injustices and abhorrent depravities. But they are vastly less prone to these things, and much more capable of correcting them.

When we include groups of people previously excluded from the democratic process, we are not just tinkering with political incentives, as important as those are. We are making a commitment to respect their full and equal membership in our society. We are acknowledging them as our equals, and receiving that same acknowledgement in return.

The people who make our elections happen are in a very real way peacemakers. And so are we, when we partake of what they are giving us. Freedom, security, justice … the recognition in each other of the innate worth of our shared humanity. The same sentiment can be expressed in more secular terms, but if you’re so inclined, it is the sense that we are all, without exception, created in the image of God. Created equal and endowed by our Creator with certain inalienable rights. That we ought not inflict harm on each other, despite the fact that we can. The promise of, as Lincoln put it, the better angels of our nature.

If you are reading this, you are probably not on the International Space Station or in Antarctica, so it is probably easier for you to cast your ballot. Many elections are consequential, but this one is especially so. If you can vote, please do so!

Spotlight + Excerpt: A Tainted Heart Bleeds by Sophie Barnes + Giveaway

Spotlight + Excerpt: A Tainted Heart Bleeds by Sophie Barnes + GiveawayA Tainted Heart Bleeds: A Gripping Historical Mystery Romance (House of Croft) by Sophie Barnes
Format: eARC
Source: author
Formats available: paperback, ebook
Genres: historical fiction, historical mystery, historical romance, regency mystery
Series: House of Croft #2
Pages: 440
Published by Sophie Barnes on October 29, 2024
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKobo
Goodreads


He’ll never forgive her deception, or the hold she still has on his heart…

Adrian Croft’s worst fear has been realized. His wife, the sweet woman who swept past his every defense, is a cunning spy working against him. Forced to play a dangerous game where one wrong move could see him destroyed, he must unravel her secrets while hunting a far more sinister threat.
Samantha knew her decision to marry her target would come at a price. Now, having lost her husband’s trust and affection, she’ll do whatever it takes to win it all back – abandon past loyalties, spill her secrets, and catch a killer. But will it be enough to undo the damage?
-One series, one couple, and the brutal challenges they must face-
If you like What Angels Fear, Silent in the Grave, and Murder on Black Swan Lake, you’ll devour Sophie Barnes’ thrilling new series.
Buy A Tainted Heart Bleeds and continue this action-packed adventure today!

Welcome to the second day of the book tour for A Tainted Heart Bleeds by Sophie Barnes, the second book in the compelling Regency mystery series, the House of Croft. I’ve already reviewed both the first book in the series, A Vengeful King Rises, as well as this second book – and loved them both. (Check out my reviews here and here to get all the deets of just how much I was captivated by each. (I’m already on tenterhooks for the third book, A Ruthless Angel Weeps, coming in late January.)

But someone else’s opinion might not be enough to tempt you, especially on a day already filled with as many distractions as this one is. I’m hopeful that if I can’t convince you, that this excerpt from the opening chapter will grab your attention – and not let go.

House of Croft, Book 2

Historical Mystery/Thriller/Romance

Date Published: 10-29-2024

 

 

He’ll never forgive her deception, or the hold she still has on his
heart…

Adrian Croft’s worst fear has been realized. His wife, the sweet
woman who swept past his every defense, is a cunning spy working against
him. Forced to play a dangerous game where one wrong move could see him
destroyed, he must unravel her secrets while hunting a far more sinister
threat.

Samantha knew her decision to marry her target would come at a price. Now,
having lost her husband’s trust and affection, she’ll do
whatever it takes to win it all back – abandon past loyalties, spill
her secrets, and catch a killer. But will it be enough to undo the
damage?

Excerpt from  A Tainted Heart Bleeds by Sophie Barnes
Chapter One

London, August 15th, 1818
Lady Eleanor dropped onto the stool in front of her vanity table. Exhausted from entertaining dinner guests with her parents, she looked forward to climbing into the soothing comfort of her bed.
Something pushing against her leg made her lower her gaze to Milly, the miniature poodle her parents had gifted her with for her sixteenth birthday. Rising onto her hind legs, Milly shifted her paws to better press her damp nose against Eleanor’s thigh, her stubby tail wagging with eager affection.
Eleanor chuckled and scooped the pup into her lap. She raked her fingers through Milly’s fur, scratched her a few times behind one ear, and allowed her to settle comfortably in her lap.
“Are you ready, my lady?” The question was posed by Audrey, Eleanor’s lady’s maid. A short woman with dark brown hair and eyes to match, the servant was five years Eleanor’s senior and possessed a positive outlook to match her own.
Eleanor glanced at her and smiled in response to the warmth she found in Audrey’s eyes. “Yes. Please begin.”
Audrey raised the comb she’d collected earlier and drew it through Eleanor’s hair. Molly snuggled farther into the circle of her arms, nails scratching a little at Eleanor’s lap as she repositioned her legs.
Eleanor sighed and sent her bed a longing glance. The coverlet had been folded back to display the crisp white sheets that beckoned. It would be good to climb between them and let the weariness seep from her body.
Molly’s curls compressed beneath the weight of her hand as Eleanor stroked the fluffy fur. Glancing up, she caught Audrey’s gaze in the mirror, her thoughts returning to the charity visit she’d planned for tomorrow. “Maybe you’re right about the brown woolen spencer. I never wear it, so I might as well include it in the donation.”
“Are you sure?” Audrey set the comb aside and collected a glass bottle containing Warren & Rosser’s Milk of Roses lotion.
The question was a legitimate one since Eleanor had argued against the suggestion yesterday when she and Audrey had prepared the box that would go to St. Augustine’s Church. The spencer had been a gift from her aunt three Christmases ago. It was undoubtedly lovely, but every time she’d put it on she felt it didn’t quite suit her.
“Yes,” she said, her mind made up. “There’s no sense in it taking up space in the wardrobe when it can keep someone less fortunate warm.”
Audrey dabbed a bit of lotion on Eleanor’s face and began rubbing it in with wonderfully soothing circular motions. “I’m always impressed by your kindness, my lady.”
But was she always kind? Guilt gathered in Eleanor’s stomach, becoming so heavy it felt like a block of lead. The choice she’d made for herself – for her future – had not been easy. She hated how selfish it made her feel.
Yet she managed to smile and pretend Audrey’s comment was welcome. “Thank you.”
Audrey responded with a smile of her own and proceeded to plait Eleanor’s hair. The peaceful activity calmed her mind. She allowed herself to focus on what was to come, instead of worrying over the past.
She’d had her say, and in so doing, she’d paved the way to a new adventure.
A surge of excitement filled her breast at this thought. Everything would be fine. All she needed was rest. The maid finished her ministrations and tidied up. Eleanor set Molly down and climbed into bed. The mattress sagged beneath her weight, the cool sheets inviting her to sink deeper.
“Would you like me to close the window before I go?” Audrey asked.
“No. Leave it open.” The afternoon sun pouring into the room several hours before had made it unbearably warm and stuffy. She couldn’t sleep like that.
“I’ll bid you good night then, my lady.” Audrey called for Molly to join her and the dog complied without question, knowing full well that a walk and a treat awaited.
“Good night,” Eleanor replied, “and thank you for your help.”
The maid left and Eleanor reached for her book. This was her favorite time to read, when all was silent and there was no risk of being disturbed. She opened Pamela and flipped to the spot where she’d left off the previous evening.
A gentle breeze streamed through the window, toying with the curtains. Distant laughter reached her ears. It was followed by a horse’s faint whinny. Eleanor’s eyes grew heavy. The book began sagging between her hands.
She yawned and it felt like only a moment had passed before she was startled by a loud noise. Her eyes snapped open, adjusting and observing. The light by which she’d been reading had burned itself out. Her book had slipped from her grasp. She must have fallen asleep.
Light flashed beyond the window. A resounding boom followed. The curtains flapped with wild abandon while rain poured down from the heavens. She blew out a breath and went to close the window. It was just a storm. No need for alarm.
Barefooted, she padded across the Aubusson rug and noted that parts of it were now damp from the rain. She leaned forward through the window’s opening, her abdomen pressing into the sill, wetting her nightgown as she reached for the handle.
Her hand caught the slick wood and she pulled the window shut. A welcome silence followed, cocooning her from the elements. Pausing briefly, she watched water streak down the smooth window pane, saw lightning flash across the sky.
Intent on returning to bed, she took a step back, prepared to close the curtains, and froze when her toes connected with something unpleasant. Not just water, but a thick and squishy substance of sorts. But how could that be? Confused, she dropped her gaze, but the darkness was blinding. She’d need a candle or an oil lamp in order to see.
She straightened and started to turn, her aim to locate the tinderbox she kept on her nightstand, when a pair of large hands captured her throat. She opened her mouth, attempted to scream, but couldn’t even manage a gasp as the fingers dug deeper and cut off her breath.
Terrified, she stared at the window, at her own blurry figure reflected in the wet glass, and the larger man standing behind her. Tears welled in her eyes. She clawed at the hands that gripped her, kicked her attacker’s shins, and did what she could to wriggle free.
None of it worked.
He was much stronger than she, and her strength waned with each breath she was denied. Her heart fluttered desperately. It begged her to keep on fighting. But it was no use.
She had already lost
#
Chief Constable Peter Kendrick removed his hat as he entered Orendel House. Given the circumstances, a somber atmosphere wasn’t surprising. But the gloom he encountered in the elegant foyer was unparalleled.
Servants stood near the walls, slumped like wilting plants. Maids wept while the male servants stared into nothing, their stricken expressions underscoring the horror they’d woken up to. Even the butler struggled to speak when he offered to take Peter’s hat, his voice cracking before he averted his gaze.
“Where are the earl and countess?” Peter asked.
The butler gave his eyes a quick swipe and straightened his posture. “In the parlor with their…remaining children.” Someone sobbed and the old man’s expression twisted with grief. “As you can no doubt imagine, this is terribly difficult for them. They asked me to show you upstairs.”
“Very well.”
He followed the butler, one step at a time, a couple of Runners at his back. They arrived on the landing, their footfalls muted by the plush carpet lining the hardwood floor. A few more paces and then…
The butler paused and gestured toward a door. “Through there. I realize I ought to come with you, but… Do you mind if I remain here?”
“Not at all.” Peter reached Lady Eleanor’s bedchamber doorway and froze. A sick feeling caught hold of his stomach. Ghastly didn’t come close to describing the scene he beheld. This was the sort of thing that could make men lose all hope in humanity. It was…barbaric.
“Good lord,” murmured Anderson, the Runner standing at Peter’s right shoulder.
Anderson’s colleague, Lewis, only managed a faint, “Excu…” before he bolted for the stairs, no doubt hoping to make it outside before he vomited.
Peter swallowed and took a deep breath, then entered the room. It hadn’t been so long ago since another young woman’s body was found – the last in a series of brutal murders that left him baffled for more than a year. But that killer was dead, so it couldn’t be the same man who’d acted here.
Besides, this was different and shockingly worse.
He clenched his jaw, reminded himself that he had a job to accomplish. There was just…so much blood. It felt like the room was bathed in it. And the victim…
Forcing himself to employ an analytical mindset, he considered her position on the bed and the clean blanket draped over her torso and legs.
“I’ll need the usual sketches,” he said.
“Already working on it,” Anderson told him, his voice gruff.
“You may want to wait a moment.” Peter studied Lady Eleanor’s face and the empty eye sockets that seemed to mock him. “Until I’ve removed the blanket.”
“Sir?”
“It doesn’t belong. Someone placed it here after the fact, no doubt to protect her modesty.” He shot a look over his shoulder. “If you’ll please shut the door.”
A firm click followed and then, “Why would the bastard take her eyes?”
“I don’t know. Could be a trophy of sorts. There’s no telling what goes on in such vile creatures’ heads.”
Slowly, with respect and consideration directed toward the poor young woman whose body lay on the bed before him, Peter folded back the blanket and shuddered. Whatever nightgown she’d worn to bed was gone, her naked body left on display.
Air rushed into Peter’s lungs on a sharp inhalation. She’d been stabbed too many times to count, as though her attacker hadn’t been able to stop. And her neck – the skin there was a bright red shade.
Swallowing, he surveyed the rest of the room while Anderson kept on drawing.
A vase lay on the floor near one of the windows, smashed to pieces. The flowers were strewn across the Aubusson rug. They’d probably ended up there during a struggle. Peter lowered himself to a crouch, his fingertips testing a dark brown stain and feeling the wetness. Mud.
“Take notes too, will you?” Peter retreated until he’d reached the bedchamber door. He grabbed the handle. “And cover her with the blanket once you’re done. I’ll question the servants in the meantime.”
#
The parlor was made available for interviews, each servant introduced to Peter by the butler as he showed them into the room. Peter considered the latest arrival. Audrey was her name. Short in stature, with mousish features and lackluster hair, she’d been Lady Eleanor’s lady’s maid.
“I…I don’t…” Audrey gulped.
She dabbed at her watery eyes again. Her handkerchief looked heavy and wet. Peter handed her a fresh one and gave her a moment to try and collect herself. Not easy, he realized, since she’d been the one who’d discovered her mistress’s body when she’d gone to rouse her.
“Did you always wake her in the mornings?” Peter gently asked.
A nod accompanied trembling lips. “She was always so…active. Liked making the…the most of each day. Today… Oh dear. Please forgive me.”
“It’s quite all right,” Peter told her and waited once more for the woman’s tears to abate. “Take your time.”
She swallowed, licked her lips, and seemed to straighten a bit. “We planned to visit St. Augustine with a few donations. My mistress…she was so very kind I…I don’t understand why anyone might have wanted to hurt her.”
“So you can think of no enemies?”
“None.”
“No hopeful suitors she might have spurned?”
Audrey shook her head. “She’s engaged to Mr. Benjamin Lawrence. They were supposed to marry three months ago, toward the end of April, but his horse-riding accident forced a postponement.”
Peter recalled news of the tragedy. The event had turned the young man into a cripple. He’d lost the use of his legs. “She still meant to go through with it, despite what happened?”
“Of course.” Additional tears slid down Audrey’s cheeks. “My mistress loved Mr. Lawrence and intended to stand by him. That’s the sort of person she was.”
And yet, the nature of her death suggested someone had loathed her beyond all reason. Peter made a few notes in his notebook, his pencil scratching the paper with quick and efficient strokes.
“Thank you, Audrey. That will be all for now.” He accompanied her to the door and called for the next servant.
Again, his thoughts wandered back to the murders that took place earlier in the year. Those women had all seemed like proper young ladies. Friends and family had vouched for them. Yet they’d each had a secret that had gotten them killed.
In all likelihood, Lady Eleanor had secrets too. If he was to figure out who killed her, he’d have to discover which of hers had led to her death.
#
There was no greater nuisance than murder.
It was hard to predict how one would play out. Killing Lady Eleanor had been messier than he’d intended. Perhaps because he’d allowed himself to get carried away.
His lips curled. At least he’d had the foresight to stash a change of clothes for himself at St. George’s burial ground. Returning home covered in blood would not have helped him get away with the crime. As he intended to do.
Hands shoved into the pockets of a clean pair of trousers, he stood by his bedchamber window and watched the London traffic go by.
He had no regrets. She’d deserved every part of what he’d done.
His attention focused on the carriages filling the street and on the people hurrying by. It was the busiest hour of the day, when men of consequence made their way to Parliament while those who belonged to the working class went off to start their jobs.
Bow Street would have its hands full this morning. He casually wondered if they were examining Lady Eleanor’s body right now and where the clues they discovered might lead them.
Spotting a young girl who carried a crate of eggs on her head, he tracked her as she walked along the opposite side of the street. A man coming the other way nudged her shoulder as he pushed past her, but failed to disrupt her stride.
She threw a quick glance toward him then stepped off the pavement and hurried between two carriages, making her way to this side of the street.
A couple of street urchins came from the left at a run, most likely fleeing someone whose pocket they’d picked. Leaping into the street at the same exact time as the girl with the eggs attempted to exit, they crashed into her, tripping before regaining their balance and sprinting onward while she was sent reeling.
Down went the crate and all of her eggs, straight into the gutter.
Not one person stopped to inquire about her wellbeing. She was invisible to the crowd – just another lowly individual doing her best to scrape by. Too much trouble for the middle or upper class to get involved with. Too time consuming for the rest.
And yet, as he watched the poor wretch try to salvage the few eggs that somehow remained intact, there was no doubt she’d prefer her situation to Lady Eleanor’s at the moment.
He watched the girl until she’d gathered whatever she could and continued along the street, vanishing from his view before he turned from the window. His gaze went to his bedside table and he crossed to it, retrieved a small key from his jacket pocket, then dropped into a crouch.
With adroitness, he set the key in the lock of the door beneath the drawer and turned it. The door opened and he reached inside, retrieving a jar that he held up against the bright morning light.
A pair of eyes contained in a clear solution stared back at him while his lips twitched with amusement. The last time they’d talked, Lady Eleanor had insisted she’d no desire to see him again.
It was a wish he’d been more than happy to fulfill.

About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author Sophie Barnes writes historical romance novels
in which the characters break away from social expectations in their quest
for happiness and love. Having written for Avon, an imprint of Harper
Collins, her books have been published internationally in eight languages.
With a fondness for travel, Sophie has lived in six countries, on three
continents, and speaks English, Danish, French, Spanish, and Romanian with
varying degrees of fluency. Ever the romantic, she married the same man
three times—in three different countries and in three different
dresses.

When she’s not busy dreaming up her next swoon worthy romance novel,
Sophie enjoys spending time with her family, practicing yoga, baking,
gardening, watching romantic comedies and, of course, reading.

 

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A+ #AudioBookReview: The Small and the Mighty by Sharon McMahon

A+ #AudioBookReview: The Small and the Mighty by Sharon McMahonThe Small and the Mighty: Twelve Unsung Americans Who Changed the Course of History, from the Founding to the Civil Rights Movement by Sharon McMahon
Narrator: Sharon mcMahon
Format: audiobook, ebook
Source: purchased from Amazon, purchased from Audible
Formats available: hardcover, ebook, audiobook
Genres: American History, biography, history, politics, U.S. history
Pages: 320
Length: 10 hours and 13 minutes
on September 24, 2024
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

From America’s favorite government teacher, a heartfelt, inspiring portrait of twelve ordinary Americans whose courage formed the character of our country.

In The Small and the Mighty, Sharon McMahon proves that the most remarkable Americans are often ordinary people who didn’t make it into the textbooks. Not the presidents, but the telephone operators. Not the aristocrats, but the schoolteachers. Through meticulous research, she discovers history’s unsung characters and brings their rich, riveting stories to light for the first time.

You’ll meet a woman astride a white horse riding down Pennsylvania Ave, a young boy detained at a Japanese incarceration camp, a formerly enslaved woman on a mission to reunite with her daughter, a poet on a train, and a teacher who learns to work with her enemies. More than one thing is bombed, and multiple people surprisingly become rich. Some rich with money, and some wealthy with things that matter more.

This is a book about what really made America–and Americans–great. McMahon’s cast of improbable champions will become familiar friends, lighting the path we journey in our quest to make the world more just, peaceful, good, and free.

My Review:

There are more than twelve. Not just in general, but specifically, in THIS book. Because there are WAY MORE than twelve unsung heroes of American history. And that seems both unfortunate and appropriately fitting at the same time. Because the sweep of history is vast, it’s not possible for every single person who is worthy of being highlighted in history to actually receive that acknowledgement. At the same time, it’s telling that the majority of these unsung heroes are from groups that history, as written by the powers that be, deliberately sweeps to the side because by their deeds and sometimes even their very existence, they challenge the narrative those powers-that-be promote so that they may remain and retain those very powers.

What those unsung heroes were often – but not always – singing their own hearts out FOR, is what makes this book appropriate for this particular week. Because many of the people whose stories are told herein fought for not just the right to vote, as was the case of the female suffragists, but also for the practical ability to exercise that right freely, as many of the teachers and civil rights workers fought.

These are the stories of just a few – not nearly enough – of the ‘hidden figures’ in U.S. history. Each and every one of them, in their own ways, did their very best and occasionally their very damndest – and the newspapers of their time frequently claimed it was the latter and not the former – to figure out and most importantly DO – the next needful thing to make progress.

When a mountain is crested, when a challenge is overcome, when a pinnacle is reached, a few are credited with the accomplishment – no matter how long the journey or how many contributed to achieve the goal. Those are the people whose names finally do end up in the history books.

These are the stories of the unsung heroes, those giants – small but mighty – on whose shoulders those in the history books stood.

Reality Rating A+: I loved this book a whole lot. I was expecting to like it, but I was genuinely surprised by how much I really, truly loved the hell out of it. I was looking for something that had a connection to American history for this week, came across this and thought, “Why not?”

Serendipity for the win because this was marvelous from beginning to end.

This is history, but it’s not history told as a dry recitation of facts. In style, it reminded me a lot of Erik Larson’s style of narrative nonfiction, in that the research is solid but that research is pulled together into an actual STORY that draws the reader into its web.

At the same time, it’s easy to see the book’s antecedents as the author’s podcasts about these and other ‘unsung heroes’ of history, as the book reads as more of a collection of short stories that occasionally intersect rather than a single narrative of history.

The way that the individual stories worked also held shades of Paul Harvey’s radio series, The Rest of the Story, which also told stories of unsung heroes, of people on the sidelines of better known stories, and of quirky bits of history.

While it will drive some readers crazy that the stories don’t link up into a single overarching thing, I found the way that things wove in and out of each other to be a whole lot of fun. Listening to the author read her own work, it felt like she was telling me a story, and that sometimes that story went on tangents to other stories with occasional sidebars into yet another story – with more than a few forays into the author’s opinions and even a few questions about what on Earth some people were either thinking or drinking.

The use of the language of the 21st century to tell this history to a 21st century audience just made it all that much more accessible. Which was marvelous because the stories were already heart tugging, heartbreaking and heart attack inducing by turns, and just filled with crowning moments of both awesome and despair – sometimes at the same time.

Any reader – or listener – looking for true stories of American history that they may not have heard before, or who would like to take a trip down some of the historical roads less well traveled by the history books, will have a grand time with The Small and the Mighty. And may even be inspired to do something a bit ‘mighty’ of their own.

Or even just a small but needful thing. Tomorrow, November 5, 2024, is Election Day in the United States. If you are a U.S. citizen who is eligible to vote, it is your RIGHT to do so. Please exercise that right. A single vote may be a small thing, but it is also a mighty power that many of the unsung heroes in this book fought to their utmost to gain.

The Sunday Post AKA What’s on my (Mostly Virtual) Nightstand 11-3-24

Did you remember to reset your clocks last night? Or, does everything reset itself in your house?

If you are a U.S. citizen, have you voted yet? If not, do you have plans to vote on Tuesday? The right to vote is precious, and like so many other precious things, either you use it or you lose it – one way or another.

Tomorrow’s review will be The Small and the Mighty by Sharon McMahon. I wanted something just a bit more relevant for just before Election Day than I generally worry about and that book turned out to be a gem as well as fitting for the week, as the thing that many of those unsung heroes fought and in some cases even died for was the right to vote.

The rest of the week is mostly comfort reads, because whatever happens on Tuesday – and after – the world will be different. The question is how much and in what ways.

Which leads me to today’s cat picture and a bit of a story to go with it. This is a portrait of something we refer to in this household as the ‘Butts of Bast’. Our current clowder of cats does not snuggle with each other. We’re still shaking our heads about that, as the previous clowder did, very much and all the time. But that group consisted of a family that had been raised together. LaZorra and Erasmus – the momcat and dadcat – were also siblings from the same litter. They had two daughtercats, Sophie and Mellie, who were also their niececats. (Sort of like an Egyptian pharaoh family, just with cats.) The little girls each had their own respective parentcat. Sophie was daddy’s girl and Mellie was mommy’s girl. I’m referring to their actual feline parents – not the humans. The little girls had very little to do with us by their own choice.

It was only when Mellie was the last survivor, 17 years later, that she started to turn to us AT ALL. At first, she’d sleep on the bed but not touch us. Then she’d let us touch her and pet her – A LITTLE – but only if we approached from her rear so that she could pretend it was the ‘hand of Bast’ – the Egyptian cat goddess – petting her and not those dreadful humans.

This picture is of George and Tuna. They play together now, they chase each other, they shake the house a bit as they’re both rather large. But they don’t cuddle with each other and they don’t cuddle with Luna or Hecate. Tuna doesn’t even cuddle with Luna now, and they are also littermates. They all do cuddle with us, just not each other. In this picture, Tuna and George are clearly touching each other – they were napping butt to butt. BUT, when Galen woke them they both focused on him and refused to acknowledge the other cat touching their butt. Hence, the ‘Butts of Bast’.

Current Giveaways:

$10 Gift Card or $10 Book in the Thanks a Latte Giveaway Hop
$10 Gift Card or $10 Book PLUS EVENT-WIDE AMAZON/PAYPAL PRIZE in the Late Fall Giveaway Event!
$5 Amazon Gift Card + eBook Copy of A Tainted Heart Bleeds by Sophie Barnes
$10 Gift Card or $10 Book in the Fall 2024 Seasons of Books Giveaway Hop

Winner Announcements:

The winner of the Silly Pumpkins Giveaway Hop is Stacey

Blog Recap:

A- #AudioBookReview: Constituent Service by John Scalzi
A- #BookReview: A Tainted Heart Bleeds by Sophie Barnes + Giveaway
Grade A #BookReview: The Grey Wolf by Louise Penny
B #BookReview: Buried Memories by Simon R. Green
Thanks a Latte Giveaway Hop
Stacking the Shelves (625)

Coming This Week:

The Small and the Mighty by Sharon McMahon (#AudioBookReview)
Election Day 2024 (Guest Post by Galen)
Old Scores by Will Thomas (#BookReview)
The City in Glass by Nghi Vo (#BookReview)
Art in the Blood by Bonnie MacBird (#BookReview)

Stacking the Shelves (625)

The U.S. presidential election is this Tuesday, November 5. It will be a day to remember, no matter what the outcome, and no matter how anyone in particular feels about the outcome. I wanted to post something this week that’s a little more serious than most of the books reviewed here. And lit upon The Small and the Mighty by Sharon McMahon, a book that collects a fraction of the stories of the unsung heroes of American history. I hope it hits the right note for the occasion – it’s certainly been an educational AND enjoyable read and listen this week.

For Review:
The Desert Talon (Crowns of Ishia #2) by Karin Lowachee
Grave Empire (Great Silence #1) by Richard Swan
A Lesson in Dying (Inspector Ramsay #1) by Ann Cleeves
The Memory Collectors by Dete Meserve
Miss Amelia’s List (Elemental Masters #17) by Mercedes Lackey
Only in America by Richard Bernstein
Third Ear by Elizabeth Rosner

Purchased from Amazon/Audible/Etc.:
Other People’s Playgrounds by Harry Turtledove
The President’s Brain is Missing by John Scalzi (ebook + audio)
The Small and the Mighty by Sharon McMahon (ebook + audio)


If you want to find out more about Stacking The Shelves, please visit the official launch page

Please link your STS post in the linky below:


Thanks a Latte Giveaway Hop

Welcome to the Thanks a Latte Giveaway Hop, hosted by Mama the Fox!

The names of a lot of giveaway hops are pretty cute, but this one is an especially important pun no matter how you flavor it!

There’s the easy and obvious first interpretation – without which a lot of us, including moi, don’t have enough spoons to figure out the second meaning. That would be the thanks for the latte, or any form of caffeine that gets us through the day. My personal latte of choice is Chai Latte, yours may be something more coffee flavored.

The MUCH more important message of this hop is that it provides an opportunity for me to thank you, my readers, not just a little bit but absolutely a whole LOT for visiting Reading Reality and following along on my reading journey.

Thank you so very much for being here, reading my reviews, commenting when the mood strikes you, and for loving the Sunday cat pictures. Luna, Tuna, Hecate and George are always thrilled to hear from their fans!

Now, back to our regularly scheduled giveaway. Answer the question in the rafflecopter about your favorite flavor of latte for a chance at the usual Reading Reality prize, the winner’s choice of a $10 Amazon Gift Card or up to $10 in books!

And THANKS!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

For more fabulous fall prizes, be sure to visit the other stops on this hop!

MamatheFox and all participating blogs are not held responsible for sponsors who fail to fulfill their prize obligations.

#BookReview: Buried Memories by Simon R. Green

#BookReview: Buried Memories by Simon R. GreenBuried Memories (Ishmael Jones, #10) by Simon R. Green
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via NetGalley
Formats available: hardcover, paperback, ebook, audiobook
Genres: horror, mystery, paranormal, urban fantasy
Series: Ishmael Jones #10
Pages: 219
Published by Severn House on October 25, 2022
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads


Returning to the small town where he crash-landed in 1963, Ishmael Jones is in search of answers. But his investigation is de-railed by a brutal murder.

"I think something very bad and very dangerous has come to your little town, Inspector . . ."
As long-buried memories from his hidden past begin to resurface, Ishmael Jones and his partner Penny feel compelled to return to the small country town where Ishmael crash-landed in 1963; the place where his memories began.
Norton Hedley is no ordinary town. Apparitions, sudden disappearances, sightings of unusual beasts: for centuries, the place has been plagued by a series of inexplicable events. Ishmael's first task is to track down local author Vincent Smith, the one man he believes may have some answers.
Ishmael and Penny aren't the only ones seeking the mysterious Mr Smith. When their search unearths a newly-dead body in the local mortuary - a body that's definitely not supposed to be there - Ishmael becomes the prime suspect in the ensuing murder investigation. His only hope of discovering the truth about his origins lies in exposing a ruthless killer.

My Review:

Ishmael Jones is as he has always been. The problem is that he’s been the same, absolutely unaging, for 60 years now. And he doesn’t remember who – or more likely what – he was before that. Before 1963, when his alien space ship was blown out of the sky over Earth and crashed in a field near the tiny village of Norton Hedley.

Which doesn’t seem to have changed much either in the intervening 60 years.

A situation that is quite a bit more worrying than Ishmael’s own unchanging face, because he at least knows why THAT’s happening. Or not, as the case may be.

But Norton Hedley, a place where people come and go and live in hope for a good tourist season every year, seems to be a haven for the uncanny. After all, that’s what has brought Ishmael and his partner Penny to the village.

Because Ishmael and his unchanging appearance began – at least as far as his memory goes – with the crash landing of his alien spacecraft in the woods surrounding Norton Hedley in 1963. He’s returned because his previous two cases, Night Train to Murder and The House on Widows Hill, have provided him with some scattered but ominous clues about who and what he used to be.

And he needs to know. Because he needs to know if he’s a danger to Penny. Or anyone else on Earth who doesn’t deserve it.

In his research about Norton Hedley, or the research the coyly named black ops group, the Organisation, has done on his behalf, he – and they – have learned that Norton Hedley has been weird central for years. Not just the years since his ship crashed in 1963, but for centuries. Millenia even.

Something in, on, or more likely under – like the thing that was under The House on Widows Hill – has been creeping its creepy way along into the lifeblood of the town for eons uncounting. It might have the answers he’s been searching for for decades.

And it might not want to let him know.

Escape Rating B: This series has been one of my Halloween reads since I first discovered it, so it seemed appropriate to finish it up this Halloween. As I’ve already read the final book in the series (so far), I’ll have to pick something else horror-adjacent next year.

The author is an acquired taste – one that I acquired decades ago. It’s the snark. It’s always been the snark no matter what the ostensible genre or subject of ANY of his many series might be. If you like his voice, then when you’re in that mood nothing else will do. But if you’re not, you bounce off, and bounce hard. Your reading mileage may vary.

The concept of this particular series throws a whole bunch of speculative fiction tropes into one hell of a blender. The series began, back in The Dark Side of the Road, as English country house mysteries where the supernatural agencies turn out to be merely human – but with a touch of the paranormal or extraterrestrial for spice and added bodies.

Over the course of the series it has turned into Ishmael’s quest to learn enough about who or what he used to be to figure out just how he can continue to stay one step ahead of all the various secret agencies that would like to use him up in one way or another. Even more important, he’s thoroughly invested in keeping Penny safe – if necessary from himself.

At first, what made this series work as well as it does – at least for this reader – was the revelation in each case that no matter how weird things got – often very – that the enemies were always human after all.

What has kept me going this far have been the questions about Ishmael’s past and Penny’s future. While Ishmael has been unchanging for 60 years, the series has been set in a sort of ‘perpetual now’. Days and weeks pass but seemingly not years. This entry in the series is one of the first that confronts head on the problem of Ishmael and Penny’s relationship.

Not that they have problems, but that together they have a problem. Penny is an ordinary human, she will age, and Ishmael will not. Short of a deus ex machina – and not that there haven’t been plenty of powerful machina around over the course of the series – this can’t end happily. Howsomever, I already know that it does not end in the next book, Haunted by the Past. And in spite of the ominousness of that title, it doesn’t dive nearly as deeply into Ishmael’s past as Night Train to Murder, The House on Widows Hill and Buried Memories have done.

So, I have begun to wonder if the author is planning to end this series at all. I wonder even more whether or not he should. I’d rather just think of Ishmael and Penny in that perpetual now, continuing on their quest to find evil humans at the heart of supernatural hoaxes, raging together against the dying of their light.

Grade A #BookReview: The Grey Wolf by Louise Penny

Grade A #BookReview: The Grey Wolf by Louise PennyThe Grey Wolf (Chief Inspector Armand Gamache, #19) by Louise Penny
Format: eARC
Source: supplied by publisher via Edelweiss
Formats available: hardcover, large print, paperback, ebook, audiobook
Genres: mystery, suspense, thriller
Series: Chief Inspector Armand Gamache #19
Pages: 425
Published by Minotaur Books on October 29, 2024
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsitePublisher's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKoboBookshop.orgBetter World Books
Goodreads

The 19th mystery in the #1 New York Times-bestselling Armand Gamache series.
Relentless phone calls interrupt the peace of a warm August morning in Three Pines. Though the tiny Québec village is impossible to find on any map, someone has managed to track down Armand Gamache, head of homicide at the Sûreté, as he sits with his wife in their back garden. Reine-Marie watches with increasing unease as her husband refuses to pick up, though he clearly knows who is on the other end. When he finally answers, his rage shatters the calm of their quiet Sunday morning.
That's only the first in a sequence of strange events that begin THE GREY WOLF, the nineteenth novel in Louise Penny's #1 New York Times-bestselling series. A missing coat, an intruder alarm, a note for Gamache reading "this might interest you", a puzzling scrap of paper with a mysterious list—and then a murder. All propel Chief Inspector Gamache and his team toward a terrible realization. Something much more sinister than any one murder or any one case is fast approaching.
Armand Gamache, Jean-Guy Beauvoir, his son-in-law and second in command, and Inspector Isabelle Lacoste can only trust each other, as old friends begin to act like enemies, and long-time enemies appear to be friends. Determined to track down the threat before it becomes a reality, their pursuit takes them across Québec and across borders. Their hunt grows increasingly desperate, even frantic, as the enormity of the creature they’re chasing becomes clear. If they fail the devastating consequences would reach into the largest of cities and the smallest of villages.
Including Three Pines.

My Review:

You’ve heard the parable – even if you don’t recognize it at first. It’s often attributed to the Cherokee, but occasionally to a different Native American tribe. It’s the story about the two ‘wolves’ that battle inside each soul. One wolf represents the darker parts of human nature; anger, envy, jealousy, greed, arrogance, etc. Because that wolf is the embodiment of the dark side, it is often pictured as a black wolf.

The other wolf represents the better angels of our nature; joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, empathy, truth, compassion, etc. That is the grey wolf.

As the parable goes, the wolf that wins the endless battle within each soul is the one that is fed by the thoughts and deeds of that person.

Having gotten to know Chief Inspector Armand Gamache over the course of this series, it’s all too easy to see Gamache as the embodiment of that grey wolf. At this point in his life and career, in more ways than one as he has literally become a grey wolf, older, sadder, wiser, but still fighting the good fight to do his best by his people and his province, in spite of the black wolves arrayed against him.

Including the one inside his own soul.

This particular case begins, as so many of Gamache’s cases begin, with a series of unrelated events that, on the surface have zero in common. Two murders, close together in time but remote and as far apart as they could be in the vast province of Québec, committed in precisely the same manner as a mafia hit. Even though neither victim appears to have any connections whatsoever with the ‘Sixth Family’ that controls organized crime in the province.

Someone breaks into Gamache family’s pied-à-terre in Montreal while he and his wife are at their home in Three Pines. But absolutely nothing appears to have been taken or damaged in the crime.

And last but absolutely not least, especially in Gamache’s mind and memory, a political operative that he crossed early in his career, who attempted to destroy him and his family and very nearly succeeded, calls in the middle of the night to say that she has information he should be interested in. Maybe he should be, but he’s absolutely not considering the source – with expletives.

At least, not until the unrelated incidents start coming together into a pattern that his instincts – if not the actual evidence before him –  tells him is the tip of a terrible iceberg. A pattern that tells him that there is something very, very rotten indeed in the Province de Québec, a pattern that will lead Gamache and his seconds-in-command, Isabelle Lacoste and his son-in-law Jean Guy Beauvoir, to the remotest corners of Québec, back to the scene of the lowest point and most desperate points in the relationships between Gamache and his son-by-birth Daniel as well as his son-by-adoption Beauvoir, and all the way to France, to a secure monastery keeping the secret of one of the world’s most famous recipes – and the potential application of one of the world’s deadliest poisons.

Gamache knows there is an enemy within – probably more than one. He has very few people he can trust absolutely, very little time and no authority with which to demand answers. And no faith that any of his desperate choices are the right ones. But he has to try, no matter the cost to his career or himself.

Because the nightmare he is desperate to prevent is only the beginning if he fails.

Escape Rating A: The Chief Inspector Gamache series, like many long-running series, tells each individual story on two levels. The particular work in hand, in this case, The Grey Wolf, focuses on the case that has been brought to Gamache’s attention at this moment in time, shows his team dealing with the clues and red herrings, figuring out which are which, and eventually solving the case or at least the immediate danger of it.

The other level is the one where things often get very deep, which in many ways goes all the way back to Gamache’s four things that lead to wisdom. As he explains to a group of young police officers in Still Life, “They are four sentences that we learn to say, and mean…I don’t know. I need help. I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

And he lives by those principles – even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts. And most especially when he discovers that he was wrong. Which he does, both in this story and in all the stories that have led him and his team to this point. Because the cop shop aspects of the usual mystery series have become a found family, AND Gamache has a tendency to tilt at big, important windmills that take that family into dangerous places and very fraught political circumstances.

This is one of those cases.

Which is where interesting and frustrating and really, truly frightening things happen in this story. As a criminal investigation, the reader is often caught up in Gamache’s own frustrations as the case is initially so elusive he’s not sure if there are one or several or precisely what it or they might be. Multiple people are playing multiple games, with both the best and worst of intentions, and it’s difficult for the reader to watch Gamache and his team flail around as much as this story forces them to.

It takes a lot of both investigation and speculation to pull this one together.

The frightening part, the part that makes this story a whole lot more fitting for Halloween week than I originally imagined, is the nature and scope of the vast criminal enterprise that Gamache has to stop. Because I don’t want to reveal the big secret, I’m going to do my damndest to talk around it.

The rot at the heart of this case, at first, read like some kind of supervillain shit. I mean that in all seriousness. It takes a situation that is already happening, that is already terrifying, that many people are trying to mitigate if not stop, something utterly real – and then posits that someone in a position of power is planning to deliberately cause an incident of deadly magnitude and then manipulate it to gain yet more power. Not in some wartorn country halfway around the globe, but in the heart of Canada.

And at first my mind went to Lex Luthor and some of his ilk and flew right out of my willing suspension of disbelief. But I kept thinking about it. And came to the unfortunately but truly frightening conclusion that it’s entirely too plausible. Then I started gibbering a bit because it so easily could. Not exactly this way, but threats of this magnitude are already on the horizon and people in power who would create and manipulate those threats are not merely waiting in the wings but believe they are in entirely too many ‘on-deck’ circles.

To make a very long story short, I picked this up because I simply love this series – especially its characters – very, very much indeed. Part of why I continue to read, book after book, is not just that those characters are fascinating, but that their relationships change shape over time. The way they work together is never static, and it often produces the kind of low-key bantering humor that arises in a group that knows each other well and loves each other much – and provides the light moments that this particular entry in the series definitely needed. And I love them all for it, even the crazy poet and her duck. If you’re looking for mysteries that are considerably more, and go infinitely deeper, than merely ‘whodunnit’, Chief Inspector Armand Gamache is a treasure – especially when he takes us on a walk through dark places, as he does in The Grey Wolf.

A- #BookReview: A Tainted Heart Bleeds by Sophie Barnes + Giveaway

A- #BookReview: A Tainted Heart Bleeds by Sophie Barnes + GiveawayA Tainted Heart Bleeds: A Gripping Historical Mystery Romance (House of Croft) by Sophie Barnes
Format: eARC
Source: author
Formats available: paperback, ebook
Genres: historical fiction, historical mystery, historical romance, regency mystery
Series: House of Croft #2
Pages: 440
Published by Sophie Barnes on October 29, 2024
Purchasing Info: Author's WebsiteAmazonBarnes & NobleKobo
Goodreads


He’ll never forgive her deception, or the hold she still has on his heart…

Adrian Croft’s worst fear has been realized. His wife, the sweet woman who swept past his every defense, is a cunning spy working against him. Forced to play a dangerous game where one wrong move could see him destroyed, he must unravel her secrets while hunting a far more sinister threat.
Samantha knew her decision to marry her target would come at a price. Now, having lost her husband’s trust and affection, she’ll do whatever it takes to win it all back – abandon past loyalties, spill her secrets, and catch a killer. But will it be enough to undo the damage?
-One series, one couple, and the brutal challenges they must face-
If you like What Angels Fear, Silent in the Grave, and Murder on Black Swan Lake, you’ll devour Sophie Barnes’ thrilling new series.
Buy A Tainted Heart Bleeds and continue this action-packed adventure today!

My Review:

This second book in the House of Croft series begins as the first book did, with the brutal murder of a young and seemingly innocent woman.

But the circumstances, as similar as they are to the opening of A Vengeful King Rises, are not the same – except that both women, and both murders, are shrouded in secrets. Including the motivation behind them.

The murder of Adrian Croft’s sister Evie was designed to set Adrian on a path that he did not wish to walk, but the motives were concealed in the midst of a serial killer’s spree. It wasn’t personal, although the consequences were very personal to Adrian Croft.

This time, the murder is very personal. Lady Eleanor was stabbed over 50 times, up close and very personal indeed. Her murderer believed that she had betrayed him – and perhaps she had, if only in his own eyes and twisted mind. Of course, he took those too. Her eyes. As a grisly trophy.

Croft brought his sister’s killer to justice – even if no one can prove it. Which leads Lord Orendel, Lady Eleanor’s father, to ask Croft to investigate his daughter’s death and provide him a measure of that same justice – even if it can’t be admitted aloud.

It’s not a commission that Croft wants to take. He has problems of his own to deal with – also a result of the events in the first book. The police are pursuing him for his father’s crimes – and his own. The agent they set on his trail inveigled her way into his heart, his bed and his household.

He married her, and only learned of her betrayal after that fact – just as she vowed to be his in all ways. He can’t forgive, he can’t forget, he can’t trust – but he can’t force himself to set her aside, or off to the country, or into a shallow grave. As she deserves.

He has no idea that she’s about to be the saving of him. Again. It’s only a question of whether that will be enough to finally earn his trust – and to save him from the gallows.

Escape Rating A-: I started this series because it appeared to be what you’d get if C.S. Harris’ Sebastian St. Cyr series and Andrea Penrose’s Wrexford & Sloane series had a book baby. Which is very much true, as all three are set in the same Regency period, all involve solving grisly murders and all have a significant and dark romantic enemies to lovers relationship where the enmity has the potential to turn deadly even as the romance heats to boiling.

(Some reviewers have noted a resemblance to Deanna Raybourn’s Lady Julia Grey series, which I have not read – YET – but clearly need to take a look at.)

Now that I’ve read the first two books in the House of Croft trilogy, at this point I have a really, really, strong feeling that I’m oh-so-glad this is a trilogy and doesn’t go on as long as those other series.

Why, you might ask?

The reason is that the House of Croft doesn’t read like three stories that have some overarching elements. In spite of not being the same genre – AT ALL – the House of Croft reads like The Lord of the Rings in that it is ONE story divided into three parts for publishing purposes. Which, by extension, makes A Tainted Heart Bleeds the long dark night of the soul that is The Two Towers – especially the second half of that heartbreaking middle book.

So that’s all a HUGE hint that readers can’t start with this book. I think that one has to begin at the beginning with A Vengeful King Rises – and will probably join me in the proverbial bated breath waiting for the final book in the trilogy, A Ruthless Angel Weeps, in order to see how Adrian and Samantha Croft manage to get whatever it is they truly deserve – whether that’s heaven or hell or just a quick hanging.

The reason for that anticipation and all of that bated breath is that the individual books in the series are extremely and occasionally excruciating compelling, and while they DO wrap up the murder that opens each story, they DO NOT answer any of the gigantic questions hanging over the series – and our protagonists – like a whole ceiling of Swords of Damocles.

I know there is a puppet master – but I don’t even have a hint as to who that puppet master might be. And it’s driving me crazy. I NEED to know who is responsible for the hell that Adrian Croft has been put through – and more importantly – WHY he’s been put through that hell. I also hope to see someone pay, but I’m certain that Adrian and Samantha will have that well in hand by the end.

A Ruthless Angel Weeps will be coming at the end of January – and for this reader it’s not nearly soon enough!

About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author Sophie Barnes writes historical romance novels
in which the characters break away from social expectations in their quest
for happiness and love. Having written for Avon, an imprint of Harper
Collins, her books have been published internationally in eight languages.
With a fondness for travel, Sophie has lived in six countries, on three
continents, and speaks English, Danish, French, Spanish, and Romanian with
varying degrees of fluency. Ever the romantic, she married the same man
three times—in three different countries and in three different
dresses.

When she’s not busy dreaming up her next swoon worthy romance novel,
Sophie enjoys spending time with her family, practicing yoga, baking,
gardening, watching romantic comedies and, of course, reading.

 

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