Tag: Random Things Through My Letterbox

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The Murmurs by Michael J Malone

Posted on by thelotusreaders

I quickly became fascinated with this mix of historical fiction, psychological suspense and the paranormal. We meet Annie Jackson as she tentatively starts her new job in a nursing home in the West End of Glasgow, hoping to get her life back on track. Annie suffers with terrible nightmares where she’s stuck in a car underwater. She also has the sensation that someone is holding her head under water until her lungs feel ready to burst. She also has debilitating headaches and she can feel one threatening as her new manager introduces her to resident Steve. Then something very odd happens, as a blinding pain in Annie’s head is followed by Steve’s face starting to shake, then reform. A whispering sound begins in her head and she sees Steve as a skull, followed by a vision of him falling in his room and suffering a debilitating stroke. She desperately wants to tell him but how can she without seeming like a lunatic? He becomes agitated and upset, as Annie starts to describe the layout of Steve’s bathroom and he asks her to stop. As she’s sent home from another job she starts to think back to her childhood and the first manifestations of her debilitating problem. Annie survived the terrible car accident that wiped her childhood memories and killed her mother. This strange supernatural phenomenon is why Annie is alone and struggles to make friends. These are ‘the murmurs’.

I felt so much compassion for Annie, as the story splits into two different timelines: we are part of Annie’s inner world as a child, but also 0in the present as fragments of memory slowly start to emerge. We also go back even further to the childhood of Annie’s mother Eleanor and her two sisters Bridget and Sheila. We experience their lives through other people’s stories and written correspondence, especially that of a nun who also works in a residential home. I enjoyed how this gave me lots of different perspectives and how the drip feed of information slowly made sense of what was happening in the present day. Different revelations have a huge effect on the adult Annie and because her memories have been buried for so long she experiences the shock and surprise at exactly the same time as we do. This brings an immediacy to the narrative and I felt like I was really there alongside her, in the moment. With my counselling brain I could see a psyche shattered by trauma, desperately looking for answers, she is piecing herself back together as she goes.

Teenage Annie had a similar vision about a girl called Jenny Burn, who went missing never to return. The murmurs awakened when her mum’s sister Aunt Sheila came to visit them. She tried to openly discuss an Aunt Bridget who also had a ‘gift’ but has ended up in a home. Eleanor, Annie’s mother, asks Sheila to leave, but it’s too late because Annie has already seen that her aunt is dying of cancer. Annie evades her mum and makes her way to the hotel, the only place Sheila can be staying. Unfortunately, Jenny is working on reception. Annie can see her climbing into a red car and she desperately wants to warn her, but she knows she’ll come across as a crazy person. Eleanor is desperately looking for a way to deal with her daughter, she’s a person of importance in the church and she can’t be seen to have a daughter who has visions. Pastor Mosley has Eleanor exactly where he wants her. There’s a control and fanaticism in him that scared me much more than Annie’s murmurs. When Eleanor takes Annie to the pastor, he demonstrates his control by holding her head firmly under his head as he prays for her. When she almost faints, he’s convinced there’s a demon in her. Annie is scared of him, she gets a terrible feeling about him but doesn’t know why. Religion is portrayed as sinister and controlling, with fervent followers who never question, but live in the way they’ve been instructed is Christian? story takes an interesting turn when Annie’s brother Lewis, a financial advisor, becomes involved with the church once more and it’s new pastor Christopher Jenkins, the son of their childhood neighbour. He’s revolutionised the church and through the internet he’s turning it into a global concern. He’s not just interested in saving souls though, he’s also amassing money from his internet appeals. He also seems very interested in meeting Annie.

As the book draws to a close the revelations come thick and fast as both past and future collide. The search for Aunts Bridget and Sheila seems to unearth more questions than answers. Annie finds out that Jenny wasn’t the only woman who went missing in Mossgaw all those years ago. As she starts to have suspicions about her childhood home, Chris seems very keen to draw her back there. Might he be planning a huge surprise? I was a bit confused at first with all these disparate elements, but as all the pieces started to slot together I was stunned by the truths that are unearthed. Then as Annie’s childhood memories were finally triggered I felt strangely terrified but also relieved for her all at once. I hoped that once she’d regained that past part of herself she would feel more confident and free, despite the strange gift she seemed to have inherited. Maybe by facing the past and leaning in to her relationship with her brother, she might feel more grounded and strong enough to cope with her ‘gift’. I thought the author brought that compassion he’s shown in previous novels but combined it with a spooky edge and some intriguing secrets. I really loved the way he showed mistakes of the past still bleeding into the present, as well as the elements of spiritual abuse that were most disturbing. This book lures you in and never lets go, so be prepared to be hooked. Michael Malone is a natural storyteller and the fact this is billed as Annie Jackson Number One makes me think there may be others. I certainly hope so,

Out Now from Orenda Books.

Meet the Author

Michael Malone is a prize-winning poet and author who was born and brought up in the heart of Burns’ country. He has published over 200 poems in literary magazines throughout the UK, including New Writing Scotland, Poetry Scotland and Markings. Blood Tears, his bestselling debut novel won the Pitlochry Prize from the Scottish Association of Writers. Other published work includes: Carnegie’s Call; A Taste for Malice; The Guillotine Choice; Beyond the Rage; The Bad Samaritan; and Dog Fight. His psychological thriller, A Suitable Lie, was a number-one bestseller, and the critically acclaimed House of Spines and After He Died soon followed suit. Since then, he’s written two further thought-provoking, exquisitely written psychological thrillers In the Absence of Miracles and A Song of Isolation, cementing his position as a key proponent of Tartan Noir and an undeniable talent. A former Regional Sales Manager (Faber & Faber) he has also worked as an IFA and a bookseller. Michael lives in Ayr.

Posted in Random Things Tours

The Opposite of Lonely by Doug Johnstone

Posted on by thelotusreaders

As many of you know I am a super fan of Doug Johnstone and particularly his Skelf series of novels, based in Edinburgh and following a family of women, running both a funeral home and a private investigation business. I love the Skelf women because they’re feisty, original, intelligent and incredibly compassionate. This is his fifth in the series and I’m in constant fear of it ending, though if it did this wouldn’t be a terrible way to bow out. In fact this may be the best in the series so far. As usual there’s an eclectic mix of people and cases. Dorothy is investigating a suspicious fire at an illegal traveller’s campsite, but also takes a grieving homeless man under her wing. Jenny is tasked with finding her missing sister-in- law who fled with the body of Jenny’s violent ex-husband Craig. Meanwhile, Hannah meets a women astronaut and is asked to investigate potentially dangerous conspiracy theorists who think she has returned from space ‘changed’. Add to that the new idea of water cremations, funerals for the lonely, strange happenings in space, a body lost at sea and a sexually adventurous man in a rabbit mask and you have all the ingredients to keep a Skelfaholic like me very happy indeed.

I love the Skelf’s outlook on life and other people, it chimes so well with my own family’s philosophy and is such a welcome change from the perspective of our current government. There’s an acceptance of others, whatever way they choose to live or love. They treat people with respect, in whatever circumstances they find themselves. There’s no judgement, something I especially love in Dorothy. She seems to have a knack for reading people and knowing when they’re trustworthy. She has a great track record too, having brought both Archie and Indy into the fold when both were in straitened circumstances. She has moments of exasperation when investigating, especially when she tries a pub local to the traveller camp where a fire happened. When gauging local feeling about the travellers she ends up in a long debate on their behaviour, most of which she dismisses as bigotry, but also their opinion of people ‘on benefits’, refugees, drug takers and women of easy virtue. They are the Daily Mail brought vividly to life and Dorothy notes how easy it can be for someone her age to accept the media narrative and become entrenched in their views. She doesn’t want to be like that and she’s certainly not going to be welcomed back to this pub. Jenny feels much the same.

‘everyone just trying to get to the end of the day and hoping tomorrow would be a little brighter. We didn’t need our homes torched, our dead ex-husbands disappearing, all the hate and bullshit in the world coming to kick us in the arse’.

This outlook also feeds into the sense of place Johnstone creates, something that made me drive around Edinburgh while on holiday earlier in the year. I wanted to get an idea of where these characters lived and was ecstatic to be able to walk on The Links, where Dorothy used to walk their dog and once encountered an escaped jaguar! He describes the strange juxtapositions in Edinburgh, something that happens in all big cities placing very different people up against each other. I was horrified to read once that there’s a street in NYC separating Harlem from the Upper West Side where the life expectancy differs by thirty years when you cross the street. As Dorothy and Archie drive out to Muirhouse she notices the stately home hidden by a high hedge from a caravan park, a halfway house for prisoners next to a posh golf course. It’s not planned of course, but it’s how all big cities grow and develop over time. However, what seems universal is that ‘the poorest people got the shitty end of the stick’ especially in Muirhouse. Johnstone’s current affairs and issues are bang up to the minute, here police officers become implicated in one of their cases. As the women meet for breakfast and a catch up, Jenny observes that cops tend to ‘circle their wagons’ when they’re accused of wrongdoing, especially sexual assault. She references the hundreds of sexual assault cases against police officers and the force’s mishandling of them, or even covering them up.

It’s wonderful to see Jenny in a calmer place, despite the ghost of her ex still hanging over her as she tries to find his sister. Her friendship with Archie, their mortuary assistant, has steadily become a regular part of her life. It feels like unofficial therapy, taking a long walk every couple of weeks and randomly choosing somewhere to eat. There’s something about Archie’s presence that seems soothing and she just enjoys sharing space with him. There’s nothing dramatic or addictive about it. Hannah has noticed them getting closer and observed that it seemed to have pulled her mother together somehow.

‘Maybe all you need is a friendly face once in a while, someone to listen to your bullshit and not judge. Hannah had read once about a man who succumbed to suicide on the Golden Gate Bridge. He left a note at home before walking there, which said that if one person smiled at him on the journey, he wouldn’t jump. Maybe all we need is a smile to stop us jumping’.

Hannah and Indy are tested a little by their new connection to Kirsty, an inspirational woman astronaut she met after her talk at the National Museum of Scotland. Kirsty invites Hannah and Indy to dinner where they meet her partner Mina. Mina is concerned about men who troll Kirsty online and at events, fuelled by a conspiracy theory that something happened to her on the International Space Station. Whether they think she’s had the alien probe up the butt or just some kind of first contact, the phrase used is that she ‘came back wrong’. Mina tells them they’ve had people outside the house, going through their rubbish and they’ve been doxxed. When Mina gets Hannah alone she asks her to do a little digging and to keep an eye on Kirsty. She’s been different since she came back, Mina explains and she’s worried that Kirsty is in danger. This had a strange dynamic to it and I was concerned that Hannah and Indy might be in danger too. I loved the theme of loneliness and dislocation, particularly the idea for The Lonely Funeral, sparked by the story of a middle aged woman who had no family or friends to make arrangements. Dorothy’s thinking had been inspired by projects in the Netherlands and New Zealand where they research the deceased and get a poet to write about them for the funeral. Dorothy has negotiated with the council so that the Skelf’s can carry out the funerals for the basic budget set aside. Brodie, the homeless man Dorothy meets and decides to help, tells her a moving story that I think explains how we all feel at times. I’ve certainly felt it in the depths of grief. It’s about a whale oceanographers had detected with a call that registered 52hz, a pitch that’s higher than other whales. It had no idea that other whales couldn’t hear it and it had spent decades singing out to no one. This story brought a lump to my throat and I’m not surprised that it touches Dorothy too. She decides then and there that Brodie is going to fit in.

It’s not everyday that the heroine of a book takes a walk into the woods to check out a mausoleum, taking the time to think about her father and how much she’s struggled since his death. Then in the next moment, stumbles upon a dogging scene, with one young woman and a quartet of men masked as a badger, deer, rabbit and fox. These juxtapositions keep the reader on their toes, we never really know what might come next or how it might make us feel. Johnstone can take us from tears to gallows humour in a couple of sentences. As he closes the book, with the first of the Skelf’s lonely funerals, Dorothy speaks on behalf of the man in the coffin who they hadn’t known anything about except his name and where he was born. She echoes Hannah’s astronaut friend, whose experience in a solar storm was both spiritual and grounding all at once. What she talks about is connection, in the E.M. Forster sense to ‘only connect’. To connect with others is the most vital thing we do in life. Connectedness is perhaps the best choice of word when trying to work out the opposite of loneliness. She talks about how we tend to close down as we age, to shut off from the world. I’ve observed this with people and noted recently the important of older people connecting with their younger family members using WhatsApp or Snapchat and how it brings daily joy to them, something those that who choose to dismiss new technology miss out on, to their detriment. We need to connect, both with the world we live in and with the people around us. We need to stay part of this great ‘human experiment’ in order to carry on living as fully as possible, for as long as we’re granted.

‘The idea of an impartial, unconnected observer watching the world was totally wrong. We’re all up to our necks in the universe, we can’t be separated from it’.

Out 14th September 2023 from Orenda Books

Doug Johnstone is the author of fifteen novels, most recently The Space Between Us (2023). Several of his books have been bestsellers, The Big Chill (2020) was longlisted for the Theakston Crime Novel of the Year, while A Dark Matter (2020), Breakers (2019) and The Jump (2015) were all shortlisted for the McIlvanney Prize for Scottish Crime Novel of the Year. He’s taught creative writing and been writer in residence at various institutions over the last two decades including festivals, libraries, universities, schools, prisons and a funeral directors.

Doug is a Royal Literary Fund Consultant Fellow and works as a mentor and manuscript assessor for many organisations, including The Literary Consultancy, Scottish Book Trust and New Writing North. He’s been an arts journalist for over twenty years and has also written many short stories and screenplays. He is a songwriter and musician with six albums and three EPs released, and plays drums for the Fun Lovin’ Crime Writers, a band of crime writers. He’s also co-founder of the Scotland Writers Football Club.

Posted in Random Things Tours

In Bloom by Eva Verde

Posted on by thelotusreaders

‘This is my family story. From all I’ve sown together, through all I couldn’t ask. I want to be the bud who makes it.’

In Blooms tells of strength, survival, forgiveness, resilience and determination, and the fierce love and unbreakable bonds between mothers and daughters.

Ever since Sol’s untimely death left her pregnant and alone at twenty-two, Delph’s kept herself small as a form of self-protection. Now, over a decade later, she lives with their daughter Roche and her new partner Itsy, a kind and protective cabbie, on the fourteenth floor of Esplanade Point on the Essex coast.

But Delph’s protective bubble bursts when Roche moves in with her estranged nan, Moon. Feeling on the outside of the bond between her fierce-yet-flaky tarot-reading mother and volatile martial-arts-champion daughter, Delph begins questioning her own freedom. And when Roche’s snooping into her grandmother’s past unearths a familial line of downtrodden women; a worrying pattern emerges. Has keeping small and safe truly been Delph’s choice all these years…?

I don’t believe in trigger warnings, despite their intended purpose to flag up material that may ‘trigger’ difficult emotions in the reader, I feel that they might stop someone experiencing a connection with a text. It might well be a trigger, but that doesn’t always have to mean it’s a negative one. It might be a trigger that starts a healing process. If anyone should have avoided this book it was me, because I was Delph. I lost the love of my life in my early thirties and then sleepwalked into a coercive and damaging relationship. Yes, it was a hard read at times, but it wasn’t remotely negative. Moon, Delph and Roche are three generations of a family. Each woman has her own issues, but they all stem from one place. Right back at the beginning. As the book opens Roche can no longer live with her mother and Itsy, the man she’s been living with for most of Roche’s life. So she decamps to her grandmother Moon’s house. Roche can’t stand Itsy, he dislikes her and wishes she wasn’t there. In fact what he wants is Delph all to himself, it’s easier to control someone who’s isolated. Delph has had a glazed over look ever since he arrived in her life and she doesn’t seem like her mum anymore. Delph has done everything she can to keep Itsy happy. She’s changed how she dressed, made herself less beautiful, stayed at home and stopped going out with friends. Every day she makes herself smaller to make more space for him and Roche can’t watch it anymore. However, things are changing slowly. Delph has a job she enjoys at B & Q, new connections with her colleagues and today she has made a choice. Delph is pregnant and she knows deep down in her soul that ‘the thought of more years, more life, tied to him’ is more than she can bear. She goes secretly on her own for an abortion, the quietest but most powerful act of rebellion she can make. Then comes her opportunity, Itsy receives a phone call from Jamaica to tell him his mother is dying. He must jump straight on a flight, so Delph lets him go alone, knowing that now she has several weeks to herself. She doesn’t stop Roche from moving out and accepts this as her time to heal, time to be the parent that so often Roche has to be for her. However, this isn’t the only recovery needed in the three generations of this family thanks to the actions of men.

I felt at first that I was slowly piecing together the story of a client. Being a person- centred therapist means letting the client choose what they want to talk about. I would use my counselling skills to tease out that story and ask questions where it needs to be clarified or where I might only be getting one perspective. Here the story has it’s own pace and each woman narrates her own section. We flit back and forth between the women, also delving into the past here and there. It’s like doing a jigsaw puzzle but only being handed one piece at a time, then another from a different place. It takes some time to perceive the whole and that was definitely the case here. Only we the reader can see where they all are in relation to one another. The reality of being a woman in today’s world is explored fully, there is no doubt that these women’s lives would have been immeasurably better had they not encountered the men they do. It takes Roche to articulate this properly with the words and wisdom of her generation.

“Roche knows, remembers, how her life changed at around the time she started secondary, and her bubble of invisibility popped. How, despite the school uniform screaming otherwise, she very suddenly became the inhabitant of a woman’s body, complete with a depressing self-awareness that this was now Roche’s life until one day men deemed her invisible again. In fairness, it’s not her contemporaries who usually do the perving – no, it’s men, grown–ass men who have always done the bulk of the wolf–whistling, the innuendoes and basic compliments that they expect her to ‘smile, love’ and be grateful for.”

As a middle aged woman I now know the power of that invisibility and how, in many ways, it’s a blessing.

I love how carefully the author drew the threads between generations, those behaviours that create a pattern of intergenerational trauma. There are moments in her journey where Delph needs her daughter by her side, but she recognises that it’s a selfish need. Delph’s lived experience stops her; “is not for a child to fix the parent. Nor is Roche the ointment to Delph’s current troubles”. She’s spent enough time trying to help Moon. Then we go back into Moon’s early years, when her grandmother is in hospital, suffering from mental ill health. Her name was still Joy back then and her job is to dispense sunshine to a women who can’t even remember her name. ‘Come on,’ Ma says, in a giddy-up way. ‘You know how happy your little face always makes her.’ This a learned behaviour, people pleasing and exactly what Delph is trying to avoid for her own daughter, three generations later. By sitting with her own pain, Delph is avoiding instilling that behaviour in Roche, she’s actively breaking the cycle. Yes, there are traumatic moments in these women’s lives, Moon’s story being particularly harrowing, but we can also see the women’s determination to change. It’s that change and what it means for Roche that brings such an uplifting feeling to the book. For me it’s Delph’s struggle that touched me deeply. The loss of Sol, who’d been there her entire life, is devastating. So moving out of Itsy’s orbit and the mental paralysis she’s been living with means opening up her emotions. That’s all of the emotions including her grief, but it’s a process that needs to happen so that Roche can talk about her father openly and in a joyful way. I found myself more engrossed in the later stages of the book as I had to see whether these women could heal together. This is beautifully written and manages to be funny, moving and hopeful.

Meet the Author

Eva Verde is a writer from East London. Identity, class and female rage are recurring themes throughout her work and her debut novel Lives Like Mine, is published by Simon and Schuster.

Eva’s love song to libraries, I Am Not Your Tituba forms part of Kit De Waal’s Common People: An Anthology of Working-Class Writers. Her words have featured in Marie Claire, Grazia, Elle and The Big Issue, also penning the new foreword for the international bestselling author Jackie Collins Goddess of Vengeance.

Eva lives in Essex with her husband, children and dog.

In Bloom will be published in August 2023.

Twitter @Evakinder

Instagram @evakinderwrites

Posted in Random Things Tours

You Can’t See Me by Eva Björg Ægisdottir

Posted on by thelotusreaders

Translation by Victoria Cribb.

Evil creatures here abound. We must speak in voices low. All night long I’ve heard the sound. Of breath upon the window.

Sixteenth-century verse by Þórður Magnússon á Strjúgi

The wealthy, powerful Snæberg clan has gathered for a family reunion at a futuristic hotel set amongst the dark lava flows of Iceland’s remote Snæfellsnes peninsula.

Petra Snæberg, a successful interior designer, is anxious about the event, and her troubled teenage daughter, Lea, whose social- media presence has attracted the wrong kind of followers. Ageing carpenter Tryggvi is an outsider, only tolerated because he’s the boyfriend of Petra’s aunt, but he’s struggling to avoid alcohol because he knows what happens when he drinks … Humble hotel employee, Irma, is excited to meet this rich and famous family and observe them at close quarters … perhaps too close…
As the weather deteriorates and the alcohol flows, one of the guests disappears, and it becomes clear that there is a prowler lurking in the dark.
But is the real danger inside … within the family itself?

I LOVED the first two books in the Forbidden Iceland series, featuring detective Elma, recently returned to her home town of Akranes after several years working in Reykjavik. This story is a prequel and we meet her eventual partner Sæver as he looks into some very strange events surrounding a family reunion. This is not your average family though and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be at a party less! My sympathies were largely with hotel employee Irma who views the Snæberg family as if they are a totally different species. In a way they are, set apart by their successes and their wealth from the everyday hotel employee. So wealthy in fact that they’ve hired this entire luxury hotel for the weekend, with a full itinerary of activities and boozy dinners at night. It isn’t long before tensions and differences come to light: judgements and opinions on each other’s partners; family members who’ve lost touch and resent each other; teenagers who’d rather be elsewhere; parents who can’t connect with their children. All cooped up together for a whole weekend. As the author moved our point of view from one character to another we realise this family has so many secrets.

The setting is isolated and bleak. No amount of candlelight could ever convince me that concrete looks anything but brutally uncomfortable. However, thanks particularly to interior designer Petra Snæberg who can’t stop snapping for her Insta followers, the hotel’s phone is ringing and bookings are going through the roof. Set on a remote peninsula there is nowhere to go, except the equally bleak outdoors and with a set itinerary in place there’s no escape from each other. The atmosphere the author creates is incredible and had me veering from suspicious to unsettled to really creeped out. The uncovered windows leave guests feeling exposed, realising that if a light goes on they are lit up like a theatre stage. Not helped by the fact that an app controls heating and lighting, so easy to plunge another guest into darkness or into light by accident or just when they least expect it. We realise that certain people are watching others, but we’re not exactly sure why, whose stare is benign and whose stare means danger is lurking? Some narrators send icy cold shivers down the spine. Petra’s daughter Lea receives a message from an unknown number:

The video is dark, taken outside at night. Instinctively I bring the phone closer to my face, to see better. I turn up the volume. The sound crackles with the wind, then I hear a crunching of gravel. Footsteps. Someone is walking outside, along a gravel path. The video ends with the sound of a throat being cleared and a cough. I turn to the window, feeling the sweat break out all over my body. Isn’t there a gravel path leading to the hotel? Again I hear a rustling sound outside the door, then more knocking. Two taps, like before. Tap, tap.

Some of the scariest moments happen to Petra too. There’s a tension between her and her cousin Stefania who grew apart years ago when they were teenagers. An awkward drink with the two women and Stefania’s brother Viktor starts to open up old wounds. Petra is haunted by a misunderstanding that had tragic consequences, but does she even know the full story? Why does she find her hotel room door open when she’s been inside, showering and sleeping? Then there’s the creepy notes under the door. It’s enough to make the hair stand up on the back of your neck.

Then there’s Irma, who seems intrigued by this glamorous family who are so ‘together’. They’re Insta-perfect and seem so far outside her experience. She mocks Petra’s overuse of the word ‘sanctuary’ which is what your home is supposed to be, a place that reflects who you are. When Irma thinks of her flat it’s merely a box and her shelves are merely a place to keep stuff. It’s boring, functional and sparse – does that reflect who she is?

Mum always said I had an overactive imagination. As a child I lived in a world that no one else could see. One that was much brighter and better than the real one, like a fairy tale or story, because as I turned the pages of books I became the characters. […] But the older I got, the more difficult it became. I started comparing myself to other people. I realised that the flat Mum and I lived in probably wasn’t that tasteful, and the life we lived wasn’t actually that exciting. Perhaps it wasn’t so desirable after all to be constantly moving from place to place, constantly changing schools and spending most of my evenings alone at home.“

She imagines living like the family do, envious of the freedom to walk around the supermarket and pick up whatever they want, with no fear of their bank card being rejected. Irma’s not completely taken in by appearances though, while she scrolls she reminds herself of the gap between the selves we are on social media and the reality. She looks forward to people watching, spotting where the cracks are. Those tiny resentments. The things they keep from each other. After all, no family is perfect.

However it’s Lea who I’m most scared for because she’s just so vulnerable. Lea is a confused teenager and she is never without her phone. A lack of friends and support at home has left her so open to exploitation. She has a friend called Birger who might be staying nearby, maybe they might finally meet? Lea seems to get validation from his messages on her photos. In fact it’s that very validation and a need to be seen that convince her to do something dangerous. She realises how exposed she is too late and the signs that she’s struggling are being missed, until she walks out into the sea in all her clothes. All the ‘what ifs’ begin to race through her mind, but not once does she wonder whether Birger might not be who he claims to be. Then there’s Gulli, an older man who’s very appreciative of her posts and so easy to talk to, but the unease sets in when he too turns out to be nearby. There’s the old man she saw wandering the corridors, even though her family are the only guests. Is it her aunt Oddny’s unusual boyfriend Tryggvi, an outsider thanks to his job as a joiner and his unique dress sense? Could he be watching? Lea begins With her mum embroiled in secrets and lies of her own, will anybody notice that Lea is standing on a knife edge. Lea is being watched of course, but is that enemy looking in through the windows or are they closer? Inside the building?

The suspense builds beautifully and reaches fever pitch on the last night. Tryggvi falls drastically off the wagon on an important anniversary. Petra has made a bloodstained find in one of the bedrooms. Victor’s much younger, pregnant girlfriend has left the hotel in the night despite being unable to drive. Lea is also drinking heavily, scared about who is stalking her. While Petra has a long overdue conversation about the past, but can she trust her version of events? As a storm begins to roll in, cutting the hotel off from civilisation, horrifying truths bubble to the surface. Someone who has been waiting a long time for their moment makes their move in this complicated chess game. We don’t always see those who hide in plain sight and those we think we know could be monsters in disguise. I love this author’s ability to get inside the heads of her characters and pull the reader along with her. Here she builds a labyrinth of clues, red herrings and suspicious characters that I found absolutely impossible to resist. That’s why I was awake at 3am, with my attention split between the page in front of me and my ears attuned to even the slightest creak downstairs. After all you never know who might be watching.

Published by Orenda Books Thursday July 6th.

Meet the Author

Born in Akranes in 1988, Eva Björg Ægisdóttir studied for an MSc in globalisation in Norway before no one can be trusted, as the dark secrets
returning to Iceland to write her first novel. Combining writing with work as a stewardess and caring for her children, Eva finished her debut thriller The SCnreæakboenrgthfeaSmtaiilrys,awrheicuhnwcaosvpeurbelidsh…edaind the 2018. It became a bestseller in Iceland, going on to win the Blackbird Award. Published in English by Orenda Books in 2020, it became a digital number-one betseller in three countries, was shortlisted for the Capital Crime/Amazon Publishing Awards in two categories and won the CWA John Creasey Dagger in 2021. Girls Who Lie, the second book in the Forbidden Iceland series was shortlisted for the Petrona Award and the CWA Crime in Translation Dagger, and Night Shadows followed suit. With over 200,000 copies sold in English alone, Eva has become one of Iceland’s – and crime- fiction’s – most highly regarded authors. She lives in Reyjavik with her husband and three children.

Thanks to Anne Cater at Random Things Tours and Orenda Books for having me on the blog tour, to see more reviews and giveaways follow the rest of the tour.

Posted in Random Things Tours

The Girls of Summer by Katie Bishop

Posted on by thelotusreaders

Rachel has loved Alistair since she was seventeen.

Even though she hasn’t seen him for sixteen years and she’s now married to someone else.

Even though she was a teenager when they met.

Even though he is almost twenty years older than her.

Now in her thirties, Rachel has never been able to forget their golden summer together on a remote, sun-trapped Greek island. But as dark and deeply suppressed memories rise to the surface, Rachel begins to understand that Alistair – and the enigmatic, wealthy man he worked for – controlled much more than she ever realized.

Rachel has never once considered herself a victim – until now.

I devote a lot of my time to reading, but there are times when a book makes me drop everything. I carry it in my bag to read while waiting for appointments. It takes precedence over Netflix and all the other streaming channels that lure us into watching the screen every evening. I spent my whole morning in pyjamas reading, because I needed to finish this novel in one greedy gulp. I was completely transfixed by this story of a young girl taking a holiday to Greece that completely changes her life. Rachel is a naïve seventeen years old when she sets out to the island for a holiday with her friend Caroline. She sells it to her worried parents as being no different to a gap year, just a year earlier than normal. Once on the island they meet a group of girls who work in a local bar, belonging to entrepreneur Harry Taylor. When Rachel meets his right hand man Alistair she feels an immediate attraction but does he feel the same way? Surely she isn’t going to capture the attention of a handsome and sophisticated older man. She does notice him looking at her and it sends a shiver through her. Rachel has never thought of herself as beautiful, especially next to the other girls here, but as Alistair singles her out for attention she feels special. They have a connection, so strong that she makes a huge decision. She isn’t going to return to England with Caroline at the end of the holiday. She is going to work in the bar alongside the girls she’s made friends with and share their rather chaotic house nearby. Why would she return to her parent’s suffocatingly ordinary semi and her A’Levels when she can be on this golden island with Alistair and frequent the glamorous parties held by his mysterious boss at his enormous villa in the hills?

The structure of the book is interesting, because usually in time slip novels we have a protagonist in the here and now trying to solve a mystery interspersed with glimpses into the past that make sense of the present. Here the author turns that on it’s head. Rachel, now in her thirties and married to Tom, knows what happened in the past. She holds her relationship with Alistair up on a pedestal, their love was special and those months with him on a beautiful Greek island have been her benchmark of how love should be. It’s a revisit to the island with Tom and bumping into Helena that starts to unravel the rather idealised past she’s been narrating to us. The present actually deconstructs her past. As each new revelation washes over Rachel in the present it takes us into a past that’s changed a little, becoming murkier and more sinister. Rachel is still friends with Jules, a friend she made on the island who was separate to the bar. In fact it’s Jules who gives seventeen year old Rachel a warning, the locals think there’s something ‘off’ about the bar and perhaps it would be best to stay away. In the present Jules and her husband have Rachel and Tom over for dinner. They’re chatting about having a family, but Rachel and Tom have been trying for around a year without success. Tom mentions that they’ve talked about seeing a doctor to have a few things checked out when Rachel responds angrily that he wants to see a doctor, she hasn’t agreed to anything. Her harsh responses change the night and seem out of character. She’s told us about how easy it was to fall in love with Tom and how they’d taken steps to move in together almost without realising it, when she’d stayed for a few days while some work was being done on her flat. Of course by now we know that Rachel has Alistair’s number and has made plans to see him again. Could that have made her less invested in her future with Tom? Later we see that she’s stashed her contraceptive pills in a box of sanitary towels under the bathroom sink, she’s still been taking one regularly every day.

IT’S TOO HOT to be outside for long. Sweat is starting to dampen my scalp, thickening in the roots of my hair and pooling in the crevices of my collar bone. My t-shirt sticks to my spine and my arms are tinged pink, an ungainly line of skin beginning to blister along the top of my thigh in the almost unseasonable blaze of sun. I curl my toes into the damp sand and feel the sharpness of a small shell against the sole of my foot.

Our setting so powerful, that beautiful sun soaked island with the sound of boats rocking rhythmically in the harbour and that incredible opening line that took me straight back to standing in the sea and feeling that sharp edge of a sea shell. She captures that push and pull between the tourists and the locals who, even thought they’re in exactly the same place, see it completely differently – rather like Rachel and the other girls. I could see the slightly scruffy house they all share and the chaos and fun of getting ready together, sharing clothes and cheap bottles of wine. Harry’s house in the hills is another contrast, sleek and modernist with contemporary art on the walls. Even the sea looks different from high in the hills, appearing flat and smooth like a lake on the surface, but with dangerous riptides underneath. The present sections mainly take place in London and the author shows us the city as visitors probably don’t see it. She describes a rather special Sunday evening feel to the tube when it’s almost empty and strangely quiet, as if having a rest before the Monday morning commuter rush. She describes sudden rain showers and people having to improvise and use their handbag to shield their hair from the downpour. Rachel loves living in the capital, compared to her parent’s suburban family home. There’s an energy and unpredictability to it’s rhythms, a sense that there are so many options, anything could happen. Whereas home has a particular tameness and routine that Rachel finds stifling. Could Rachel’s decision to stay on the island and even her attraction to Alistair have something to do with the way she views her mum and dad’s life? We see Rachel fighting something similar in her marriage, the ordinariness igniting that constant yearning for something more, something others can’t see:

She was ‘hoping this trip would reignite some of the heat that has been missing from my marriage. Instead, I look across at my husband and feel faintly repulsed. His underarms are damp and staining the shirt he put on especially for our last night here. He’s staring out at the sea, but I know he isn’t seeing it the way I do. To him it could be anything. Any view, anywhere. To me the swell of the tide speaks of secrets, the salty air smelling irrevocably of promise.’

It’s very easy to understand the teenage Rachel. I fell in love at seventeen and had my heart broken. For years I idealised that relationship, using it as a benchmark for subsequent relationships that in hindsight had much more potential. She is so naïve that she can’t see what’s happening and how much she is being controlled. It’s almost apt that the book should come out in the light of the Phillip Schofield scandal, because it struck me how the responses to what happened are very different to the responses we might have had when I was seventeen in the early 1990s. Our gradual understanding of coercive control, grooming and power imbalances in relationships have coloured the way we view all relationships completely. An affair with a much older man probably wouldn’t have raised much of an eyebrow then, it’s only with hindsight that it becomes worrying. It’s only once the affair is viewed through the prism of our later experiences, such as having our own daughters, that our perspective changes. The #MeToo movement has changed how we see things. When I watched the film Bombshell I talked with friends I’ve had since I was a teenager and as the author writes in her afterword, we’ve all had experiences: of being groped without consent while waitressing or working behind a bar; having a boss who was a bit ‘handsy’ or made inappropriate comments; being touched an a crowded dance floor at a club. One of the most disturbing stories I have ever heard was from a woman who had known ‘wrestling’ between boys and girls in the school playground turn into sexual assault. I love that my stepdaughters are so much better informed than I was and are very conscientious about keeping each other safe when out with friends, although it frustrates me that they have to be so vigilant just to go out on a Friday night.

The Girls of Summer was born out of this strange and sometimes conflicting intersection between nostalgia and trauma, memories and the truth, power and sexuality. It explores the grey areas of consent, deepening a debate that has shifted and broadened since the #MeToo hashtag first took social media by storm. It interrogates what it means when we are forced to reframe a narrative that is so central to who we are that we aren’t sure who to be when that narrative turns out to be false. Is it better to face up to this truth, and all of the pain that comes with it, or to keep it hidden in the dark?

The Girls of Summer, Afterword

Watching the teenage Rachel walk into danger is upsetting because this reader was ahead of the narrative and knew something was very wrong with the island set-up, particularly the extravagant parties. There was no explanation for all the male party guests and the mysterious Harry rarely appeared. On her way to a party, Rachel is excited and hopes Alistair loves her dress, she’s grateful that the girls have been invited never realising that they are the reason for the party. The gaslighting afterwards was painful to read – ‘you had fun didn’t you?’ Or ‘don’t feel bad about what happened, it’s okay, you enjoyed it.’ When they’re in the middle of that level of pressure, manipulation and controlling the narrative how would they be able to see through it and understand what’s truly going on? Even for an adult Rachel it’s hard. Her relationship with Alistair and it’s veracity is part of who she is, how she views men and relationships and determines her friendships with the very women who might understand her most. When the truth of everything is revealed, the horror of the Full Moon party and further painful revelations, it’s so hard for her to absorb and accept it. I found it deeply sad that even towards the end of the book, Rachel has still held a tiny shred of hope that her version of the relationship with Alistair will prove to be the love story she wanted.

When the truth is so deeply painful and damaging, isn’t it understandable that she would want to sugar coat things a little? To push away the truth and not have to confront what happened to you. To not feel like a victim. I could truly understand the women coming together to confront the past and I found myself thinking about how powerful men frame the narrative. They talk about a cabal or coven of women coming together to destroy them. Women who have been taking drink or drugs and having an encounter they bitterly regret in the morning. I can only imagine what effect it must have on the individual, to hear comments like Prince Andrew’s ‘I have absolutely no memory of ever meeting that woman’. For Rachel, who lost absolutely everything that summer, the denial of her experience actually brings the first chink of light into her situation. I felt hopeful that with the help of this group of women, friends like Jules and an acceptance of the truth she could start to rebuild. The fact that I’m talking about Rachel like this, as a real person, is testament to the brilliant writing of Katie Bishop. She has created a real, flesh and blood woman in Rachel and I found myself almost wishing I could see her as a client, I so wanted a recovery for her. This is a powerful story, that may trigger some people who’ve had similar experiences, but it’s important for stories like this to be told. I could really see this as a television series, with some reviewers seeing a similarity with The White Lotus – a beautiful setting, a luxury resort and the dark truths lurking underneath all that perfection. I loved the ending though, a return to that beautiful place but with the ability to see the reality instead of a fantasy. I wanted her visit to the island to be different to the one she had with Tom at the beginning of the book. To accept that she will never feel the excitement and promise she felt all those years ago, but that she will experience new feelings that are every bit as worthwhile.

I had thought I could recapture something of how I felt all those years ago by coming back here, but it has only served to remind me how slippery and impossible it is to summon the past. Perhaps this is simply the nature of growing up. Of growing older. Perhaps I will never feel the same again.

Meet The Author

Katie Bishop is a writer and journalist based in the UK. She grew up in the Midlands before moving to Oxford to work in publishing in her early twenties. Whilst working as an assistant editor she started writing articles in her spare time, going on to be published in the New York Times, Guardian, Independent and Vogue.

Katie started writing The Girls of Summer during the first UK COVID lockdown, after becoming increasingly interested in stories emerging from the #MeToo movement. The novel is inspired by her own experiences of backpacking, and by her interest in how our personal narratives can be reshaped and understood in light of cultural and social changes.

In 2020, Katie moved back to the Midlands, and now lives in Birmingham with her partner. She is a full-time writer.

Posted in Publisher Proof, Random Things Tours

Henry VIII The Heart and the Crown by Alison Weir

Posted on by thelotusreaders

I came to this book with quite a store of Henry knowledge – I promise not all of it comes from The Tudors, but this has been a great excuse to dig out the series again and enjoy Henry Cavill in leather trousers. In my previous home I had the alcoves each side of my fireplace turned into bookshelves and one side was all books on the Tudor period. A mix of novels and non-fiction it covered all the usual authors: David Starkey, Phillipa Gregory, Lucy Worsley, Alison Weir and many more. I have read each of Weir’s six wives series and her other novels on Elizabeth I and Lady Jane Grey. Her last novel was based on Elizabeth of York, Henry’s mother and daughter of Edward IV. All of them have been that brilliant mix of sound background research and an ability to get inside the characters and bring them to life. However, you don’t have to read any of her earlier work to enjoy this book, I’m just a Tudor Nerd! I wondered how Henry would fare, given that her previous books have shown great empathy for the position women found themselves in at the Tudor Court, especially where that ill treatment was at Henry’s hands. Interestingly, I read this alongside Prince Harry’s autobiography Spare, something that fascinated me given that Henry VIII’s story is largely influenced by that dynamic of ‘heir and spare.’ Henry is the man who was never intended to be king. Only the death of his brother Arthur, Prince of Wales, opened the way for a king who seemed almost meant to be. How could this well-built, ornately dressed and powerful man of the Holbein portrait not have been the King? It seems strange to think he was probably destined to be Duke of York and of much lesser importance than the huge presence he still is in our royal history. Did I see parallels between the man whose Twitter followers call Good King Harry and this similarly red-haired Tudor spare? Only a few!

I thought what Weir did really well was put Henry’s controversial and bloody reign into context. It’s easy to forget where Henry comes from and how violent and treacherous the route to the Crown was prior to his birth. As Weir explains, Henry’s maternal grandfather was Edward IV, a man who took the crown in the years of fighting between the York and Lancaster royal houses, known as the Wars of the Roses after the county emblems of the white and the red rose. However, it was also known as the Cousin’s Wars and to put that in a modern context it’s as if Princes Harry and William fought for the crown against Princesses Beatrice and Eugenie. It took a concerted effort by Henry’s grandmothers Margaret Beaufort and her rival Elizabeth Woodville to bring both houses together with a royal marriage and the new emblem of the Tudor Rose. Margaret was Henry VII’s mother and fought hard for her son to claim his crown, which he eventually did on the battlefield against Richard III. Elizabeth was Edward IV wife and despite losing both her sons, the rightful heirs to the throne who are believed to have been murdered in the Tower of London, she encouraged her daughter Elizabeth of York to make a political marriage to Henry Tudor, the new King. The emblem of their arranged marriage was a red rose for Lancaster with a white centre for York. These became known as the Tudor Rose and can be seen in many Tudor palaces and churches like York Minster. The country had endured years of in-fighting, from huge battles to hidden murders such as Edward IV and Richard, then Duke of York, allegedly murdering their brother by drowning him in a barrel of malmsey. Henry’s parents brought some stability to the country, despite Henry VII’s constant paranoia about usurpers and the lost Princes from the tower reappearing. If we imagine all of this followed by the death of Henry’s elder brother Arthur who died without heirs, it’s possible to see some of pressure upon the young king’s shoulders. Considering the paranoia he witnessed in his own father and his grandmother Margaret who drilled it into Henry that the only way to keep the crown secure was to have heirs, we can see the seeds of Henry’s own obsessions, paranoia and hatred of betrayal.

Often we only see the later King Henry on television and in fiction, because those latter years of his reign from meeting Anne Boleyn onwards are so dramatic. It’s easy to forget that Henry ruled and lived happily with his first wife and Arthur’s widow Catherine of Aragon from 1509 until he met Anne Boleyn in 1525, although he remained married to Catherine until 1533. There are only fourteen years between his marriage to Anne until his own death in 1547, in which he married, divorced or beheaded four more wives. I loved how Weir captures the earlier and often ignored years of Henry’s reign because we see something of the great prince that all of Europe were talking about. A tall, handsome and robust young man in direct contrast to his brother Arthur, he was also a great horseman and a competitive jouster. He was often reprimanded for missing lessons in order to go hunting or practising in the tilt yard with his companions, usually Charles Brandon. Yet he wasn’t just an imposing physical presence, Henry was very intelligent in that he spoke French and understood Latin and was even taught by the philosopher Erasmus. He could compose music and was an elegant dancer, with a definite eye for the ladies of the court. Even his early happy years with Catherine were littered with affairs, the most famous being Anne’s sister Mary Boleyn and Bessie Blount, both of whom were rumoured to have the King’s illegitimate children. It was interesting to read about Henry’s role in welcoming Catherine as Arthur’s bride and how much he admired her from a very young age. After Arthur’s death he was adamant he wanted to marry Catherine, with a dispensation sought from the Pope for their union. Henry’s father seemed reluctant to solemnise the match, despite a betrothal ceremony taking place. I have read elsewhere that the King had considered Catherine for himself and it was only when the King died that their marriage took place, in fact it was one of the first things Henry did as King. He may not have been faithful physically but there was a constancy in Henry’s feelings for Catherine, he admired her greatly and felt she would be a fitting queen for him.

Weir also shows how different Henry’s court was from his father’s. Henry VII had faults, but he was contemplative, careful when making decisions and had financially secured their reign after finding a depleted treasury due to years of war. Henry wanted to be a generous King, known to keep a a celebratory and ostentatious court. He undertook building new palaces, promoting art and culture, keeping a generous table and was determined to use some of the money saved by his father to take Calais and become King of France once more. He wanted to excel in all things, but this extravagance was also a sign of things to come, developing from generous young King to a petulant and spoiled man with a body ruined by greed, excess and risk taking. The most damaging risk being his jousting accident, where he was knocked out cold for some time and sustained a leg wound that never healed, caused intense pain and smelled terrible due to infection. I have often wondered whether it was possible that he sustained a head injury in this accident, because it does seem to be a turning point in his life, after which he made several questionable decisions. He decreed that his courtiers should acknowledge and accept his relationship with Anne Boleyn as well as his plan to make her Queen. His insistence on this point led to a relationship breakdown with one of his most trusted advisors, Sir Thomas More. The day he executed More was also a point of no return, I believe it haunted him for the rest of his life that he’d killed a good man, a man of God.

Weir made me look at Henry’s early life with more empathy than I have before. She brings to life the childhood loss of his mother (another event in common with our Prince Harry) and the huge impact it had. He remembers her softness and her gentle voice, a memory he needs when his father is preoccupied with duty. Henry has to grow up early, but little reminders of his mum pop up everywhere, especially her smell. I felt he could have been a different man if she had lived. There are some warning signs of the tyrant he becomes, because he’s jealous of Arthur from a young age. Arthur keeps his own court in Wales and Henry would love to have his own court, his own income and a bit of Arthur’s power, not to mention wanting Arthur’s bride from when she first arrived in the country. When all of it becomes his I did wonder whether there was a bit of survivor’s guilt. His father’s paranoia about losing the crown and his over-protectiveness after the death of his first son, mean he keeps Henry from carousing in bars with his friends and preserves some of his reputation for marriage. Weir shows us the weight of that history and expectation on the young prince’s shoulders. It’s something Henry is constantly pushing against, so that when he does unexpectedly become King he is determined to make changes. He has a tendency to promote men who are self-made, above the usual courtiers or advisors of his father’s. He relies on Cardinal Wolsey and after that he promotes Thomas Cromwell, a commoner and son of a blacksmith. The men who advised his father are old now and have known Henry his whole life, they’re aware of a recklessness in the young King that needs reigning in. Newly made men show the deference Henry expects as a King, but being younger and perhaps more aware of the way the world is changing they also allow him to take risks. We also see Henry’s own paranoia emerging when he and Catherine start to lose children, most particularly his two month old son. I felt like I understood Henry better after reading this novel and it was interesting to see some thoughts I’d had about Henry’s personality and behaviour placed in context. I didn’t like him more, but I did feel sorry for him in parts especially in his difficult relationship with his father. Weir provides possible reasons for the cruel and changeable behaviour that made Henry the most famous King in our history. I felt completely immersed in his psyche but also the whole Tudor court because Weir breathes life into a story we all know something about, turning historical caricatures into real people. Their problems also seem less far-fetched given Royal headlines over the last few years, although this spare ended up with the crown.

Many thanks to Headline Review and Caitlin Raynor for my proof copy of this novel and to Anne at Random Things Tours for my place on the blog tour and your support.

Meet the Author

Alison Weird is a bestselling historical novelist of Tudor fiction, and the leading female historian in the UK. She has published more than thirty books, including many leading works of non-fiction and has sold over three million copies worldwide. Her novels include the Tudor Rose trilogy which spans three generations of history’s most iconic family – The Tudors, and the highly acclaimed Six Tudor Queens series about the wives of Henry VIII, all of which were Sunday Times bestsellers. Alison is a fellow of the Royal Society of Arts and an honorary life patron of Historic Royal Palaces.

Posted in Orenda, Random Things Tours

Thirty Days of Darkness by Jenny Lund Madsen

Posted on by thelotusreaders

The first thing I loved about this book was that stunning cover. I hadn’t fully taken it in when I received the book, but once I’d found my reading glasses I couldn’t stop looking at it. That tiny lit up window, a little orange glow of creativity in the darkness really fired up my imagination. I’d love Orenda to create some book posters to accompany their author’s work. The blurb drew me in with it’s conflict between genre authors and their supposedly high brow literary fiction colleagues. Hannah writes literary fiction and is dismayed at a book festival to see the crowds attending a Q and A with Jørn Jenson, the darling of Scandi Noir, who churns out a formulaic book every year. Yet he’s filling a tent with fans and she’s in a lonely booth waiting for someone to drop by. I loved that she launched a book at his head! In the ensuing row, Jensen goads Hannah into saying she could write a crime novel in a month. Her agent uses the incident as a great marketing strategy and pours fuel on the fire, talking to the press about the wager and even putting Hannah on a plane to Iceland as a writing retreat. There she will live with a lady called Ella and hopefully, within thirty days, complete a commercial success. Yet within days of Hannah’s arrival there’s a real life crime, as Ella’s nephew Thor is found drowned in the waters of the harbour. Can Hannah use the case to write her crime masterpiece? As she starts to ask questions about this small town community will she find inspiration, or will she be in more danger than she ever imagined?

Hannah is an interesting heroine in that she isn’t all that likeable at first. She’s prickly, arrogant and a definite book snob.

“Hannah Krause-Bendix has never received a bad review. Not once has anyone had a negative thing to say in any of the reviews of her four novels. A literary superstar, twice nominated for the Nordic Council Literature Prize. Didn’t win, but that doesn’t matter; anyway, she doesn’t believe the mark of good literature is how many awards it’s won. She’s actually refused the numerous other prizes she’s won over the years. No – Hannah sees herself as a forty-five year old living embodiment of integrity and will always maintain that it is beneath her to seek commercial success.”

I was starting to feel sorry for her editor and publisher. Her disgust for the current literary scene is obvious. She hates festivals and signings, prizes, social media and is dismissive of bloggers (how dare she – *swoon*). As she picks up Jensen’s latest book as if it is ‘a pair of homeless man’s lost pants’ she notes that most of the reviews are from obscure bloggers she’s never heard of. She’s no better as she arrives in Iceland, annoyed that her new landlady is late, that her jeep looks and sounds like it’s five miles off it’s new home at the scrap yard, plus she drives with her steamed up glasses so close to the windscreen that Hannah wonders whether she can drive, or even see. Then she makes the terrible faux pas of calling her friend and publisher Bastian to get her a flight back to Copenhagen, assuming Ella can’t understand her. Of course she can. I was cringing about her behaviour. Yet I didn’t dislike her. Despite these failings, plus the alcoholism, infidelity, snooping and complete conviction she’s in the right, there’s something rather freeing about her impulsiveness. We all have those thoughts, those imps of the perverse, that pop into our mind and encourage us to poke that person who’s bending over to reach a low shelf in the supermarket. We don’t do it of course, but Hannah does. In the course of the novel she randomly feels a homeless man’s head, buys the town teenagers alcohol, starts an affair with someone she’s barely met and as we know, tries to hit a man in the head with a book. She seems disconnected from others in the sense that we don’t know her family, she has few obligations and she thinks nothing of asking very personal questions in entirely inappropriate circumstances. I sort of loved that.

There is definitely a blackly comic element to this story and a satirical eye for both the book world and crime fiction in general. There’s a meta element to the story too, as Hannah makes observations and discoveries about crime fiction that then seem to bleed into the actual case. She observes that her investigations are suggesting the case is actually quite simple to solve, Jørn, who has followed her to Iceland, advises that in crime fiction the killer is never the most obvious suspect. Subsequently, her enquiries move from the her current suspect and start to take a darker turn, towards the last people she’s suspected. Jørn tells her:

“ a good crime novel has three crucial components. One: a spectacular and violent opening, preferably a murder. Two: false leads and false suspects. […] Point three is surprises.’

He also rather amusingly points out that the protagonist shouldn’t be likeable, because no one enjoys a likeable protagonist in crime. In fact during a violent clash with her first, rather boringly obvious suspect, she even doubts her own credentials as a protagonist. As she fights for her life, she berates herself for her stupid plan of luring him to a window, because she’s now in front of an open window with a possible murderer.

Of course, he isn’t the murderer after all. In the end the crime is complex and rather like the book of Icelandic sagas that Ella gives her to read. The roots of this murder lie way in the past with the last people Hannah suspected. In fact in the echo of the saga, someone takes something that is highly prized and didn’t belong to them, setting in motion years of secrets, lies and denial. Yes, there’s a lot of the clever stuff going on that us ‘weirdo’ readers like, as one teenager describes Hannah’s fan base, but there’s also a solid thriller as well. It’s a bleak and claustrophobic atmosphere as soon as Hannah reaches the island where she knows no one and feels alien. The remoteness of the town and it’s isolation when the bad weather comes just add to that sense of being completely alone. This is not a place to be injured or to be a victim of crime; there is only one police officer in town, with back up over an hour away on a good day. Jørn may preen and prance around like the archetypal action hero, but he is surprisingly very useful to have around in a sticky situation and despite his woeful writing, is possibly a good friend to have, especially where he’s the only familiar and friendly face. Alongside Hannah I suspected three or four different people and the author kept me guessing, just leaving tiny clues along the way. At first there was a little bit of scepticism -I remember watching Murder She Wrote with my parents when I was younger and my dad wondering why nobody told Jessica Fletcher to ‘bugger off and mind her own business’. However, once the action started to heat up I forgot that Hannah had no business interrogating suspects and just kept reading. She’s no Jessica and this is definitely not cozy crime. It’s dark, disorientating and scary as hell, but you’ll not be able to put it down. This is an incredible debut and I’d love to see where Hannah ends up next. Now back to that cover – I think it would make a lovely tote bag ……

Meet The Author

Jenny Lund Madsen is one of Denmark’s most acclaimed scriptwriters (including the international hits Rita and Follow the Money) and is known as an advocate for better representation for sexual and ethnic minorities in Danish TV and film. She recently made her debut as a playwright with the critically acclaimed Audition (Aarhus Teater) and her debut literary thriller, Thirty Days of Darkness, first in an addictive new series, won the Harald Mogensen Prize for Best Danish Crime Novel of the year and was shortlisted for the coveted Glass Key Award. She lives in Denmark with her young family.

Posted in Random Things Tours

When We Fall by Aoife Clifford

Posted on by thelotusreaders

I’m slowly becoming a fan of ‘Outback Noir’ so I guess I picked up Aoife Clifford’s new novel with certain expectations. I was pleasantly surprised to find a few differences in this crime novel and a labyrinthine story that really pulls the reader into small town Australia with its complicated relationships. As one Merritt resident says:

“People here are a bit like trees, with roots deep in the earth, far more tangled than what’s visible on the surface.”

Criminal barrister Alex has returned to her home town to spend some time with her mother Denny and have one of those difficult conversations. Denny is struggling with dementia, but is stubborn and in denial. She had a distant relationship with her own parents and had Alex as a young Mum. Alex has bad memories of her grandparents so Merritt isn’t her favourite place, but Denny is getting worse, no matter how much she tries to cover it up and Alex must talk to her about sheltered accommodation. It’s on a beach walk trying to broach the subject that they find a dismembered leg with a distinctive black feather tattoo. It turns out that the leg belongs to art gallery owner Maxine MacFarlane and local police chief Kingsley ‘King’ Kelly dismisses it as a boating accident when the rest of her body is found further up the coast. But Alex’s barrister’s instincts tell her there might be more to this than meets the eye and she starts to snoop. King Kelly warns her off very early on and comes across as the archetypal small town cop – lazy, prejudiced and jaded, not to mention a misogynist. He holds court in his local cafe and seems well connected in the town, especially with people who matter. Alex wants to question a possible link between Maxine’s death and the disappearance of artist and activist Bella Gregg two years before. Not only did Bella exhibit at Maxine’s gallery, but as an activist she often protested wearing black feather wings that went missing at the same time she did. There’s also a strange symmetry about their autopsy results – Maxine was washed up on the sea shore but didn’t have saltwater in her lungs whereas Bella did have saltwater in her lungs but was found inland. There was also an upcoming exhibition at Maxine’s gallery, linked to Bella’s death. Could this have laid the blame for Bella’s death at a local’s door?

The plot is intriguing, full of different avenues that are never obvious. Some keep you reading ferociously but turn out to be red herrings, while truths lurk underneath like a riptide. One minute I suspected someone, then someone completely different, although that’s not surprising in a town where male suspects are plentiful. My eye was on King Kelly throughout because he’s a thoroughly unpleasant character, but there are strangers in town; a new doctor who’s just arrived, as well as a visiting investor in a potential eco-friendly extension of the town. Locally there’s the rep for the town extension who seems keen to do anything for a better future than the local fishermen he went to school with. Bella’s own stepfather is known to be dealing drugs and there’s even a link to Alex’s family, with one thread involving a GP who was the partner of her grandfather. The past definitely has a role here, both in the crime and in the questions Alex has about her childhood. I was nervous for her in a town where outspoken women seem to get silenced. Alex is just as stubborn as her mother once she has an idea in her head and she’s been without cases to distract her of late.

Aside from the crime, Alex has a lot to contend with: her husband Tom is pushing for their divorce to move a bit quicker; her career seems to have taken a nosedive since their separation; then there’s her formidable mother to contend with. I loved the snappish and often humorous dialogue between Alex and Denny. There was a lot of truth in their exchanges, but that humorous edge offered a bit of light in the shade of a terrible crime. Alex’s instincts are strong, she’s perceptive and intelligent but seems to have a blind spot when it comes to danger. She places herself in potentially life threatening situations without seeing the danger looming over her. I didn’t always understand why, but felt it might have had something to do with her childhood in Merritt. Clifford surprised me with Alex’s home town, because I didn’t get the dry outback setting I expected. Despite wanting to develop as a holiday destination, it didn’t feel very welcoming and it seems to be raining constantly. Everyone is in raincoats. This is a small seaside town and has a claustrophobic feel without the outback heat. She shows it through the people, like the local cop with a finger in every pie and suspicious residents who are reluctant to talk. She gave me an Australia I hadn’t seen before and it gave this read a unique feel. This was such a well-written book, sinister and complicated with an ending that felt just right. I’m now looking for a gap to read her earlier novels, because I’ve already ordered them.

Meet the Author

Aoife Clifford is the author of All These Perfect Strangers, which was long-listed for both
the Australian Industry General Fiction Book of the Year and the Voss Literary Prize, and Second Sight, a Publishers Weekly (starred review) and PW Pick for Book of the Week. Aoife’s short stories have been published in Australia, United Kingdom and the United States, winning premier prizes such as the Scarlet Stiletto and the S.D. Harvey Ned Kelly Award.

Posted in Random Things Tours

The Forgotten Garden by Sharon Gosling

Posted on by thelotusreaders

Thanks to enjoying the blog tour for Sharon Gosling’s first novel, The House Beneath the Cliffs, she became an author I kept an eye on. I was on the look out for her next and The Lighthouse Bookshop confirmed for me that if I’m looking for an escapist read, she is one of my go-to authors. She seems to effortlessly blend a mix of sadness and heartache, secrets, warmth and potential romance into an engrossing read that’s so enjoyable. Our main character, Luisa McGregor, has allowed herself to become stuck. A life that once felt safe, secure and predictable is now starting to stifle Luisa and she needs more, a new challenge perhaps. Then into her lap falls great opportunity. Her friend Oliver presents a daunting, but tantalising proposition. Instead of carrying on as a gardening assistant to a woman she feels increasingly out of step with, she should check out an opportunity to build a whole new garden at a site near the Cumbrian coast. There’s a pot of money available to build a community garden on wasteland next to a gym and youth club. Luisa agrees to visit the site and is daunted by the amount of work needed, but also inspired by what could be achieved there. As we meet the people of this disadvantaged area of Collaton, we can see what a community garden could mean to these people. There’s teacher Cas, who is pouring all of his energy and spare time into the young people of the area. Harper is a teenager with a lot on her plate, but determined to find a way out of Collaton towards a different future. Can Luisa design a garden that brings both healing, inspiration and a stronger sense of community for the residents?

I did connect with Luisa and the position she has become stuck in. She has had to recover from the terrible trauma of losing her husband in an accident. She has dragged herself up from the darkest and most difficult days following her husband’s death, to a point where she feels she has rebuilt her life. She’s working in garden design, even if she doesn’t like her boss, she has a nice home and great support in her sister. Really though, she’s just treading water and terrified of stretching herself or reaching for something that she could lose. I loved the way the author shows Luisa coming alive again as she works on the new garden. She literally blooms alongside her plants and seems to gain something from working with others and passing on her skills. Without trying too hard, the garden draws in those who need it including a woman who’s been her husband’s carer since an accident paralysed him. He’s initially sceptical and annoyed that his wife’s attention has been captured by Luisa’s plans, but just a few hours a week gaining respite from her caring role has transformed her. It’s not long before he’s creating bespoke benches for the garden, adapting the way he uses his joinery skills to his disability. Harper is a character who really stands out, she’s a young girl brimming with potential, but struggling to escape the difficult circumstances of her life. She is the main caregiver for her younger brother, now that their mum has died and their father has escaped into the bottle. Harper has a skill for mechanics, engineering and invention. She spends her spare time either at the club with Cas or helping at the local garage where she’s doing up a battered old Mini that Cas has gifted to her. Harper’s story shows us how hard it can be for someone to escape where they live and their family circumstances. Her cousin Darren is out of prison and is back dealing drugs in the area again, Harper is devastated when he preys upon her younger brother, Max. Max is easily influenced, especially when it comes to friendships. He struggles to make friends and has been subjected to bullying, so when someone older and seemingly cool pays him attention it’s an easy conquest. Darren wants him as a drug runner or lookout, but Harper puts her foot down and offers herself up instead. I was on tenterhooks, knowing that this decision would have consequences in the future.

There are a few powerful scenes that really stand out. Max has a secret that he’s been working on in Harper’s absence, inspired by the garden and when it was unveiled I almost held my breath. I loved the idea for his garden and the description was so lush and vivid I could almost smell the vegetation and feel the warmth. I could imagine sitting there, early on a sunny morning and enjoying a coffee. I also kept thinking what an incredible wedding venue it would be. It’s clear as soon as Cas and Luisa meet that there is potential for romance, but I wondered if both of them were too hurt by their pasts to take the chance. I was sure it needed a catalyst and the author certainly gives us one. The scene where Darren’s thugs get into the garden was heartbreaking and heart-stopping. I could actually feel the fear of the volunteers and residents as Darren shows his true colours and the bad boy reputation he’s trying to create for himself in the community. However, the gang don’t expect to be challenged, with devastating results. I was rooting for Cas and Luisa, with their endeavours in the community and their potential romance too. I read to the end quickly, determined to see the garden succeed and whether Luisa would overcome her fear of love and inevitable loss. I took the book on holiday with me and it was an enjoyable and emotional read, with an ending that was truly satisfying. This is an author who understands that life has seasons and that women have an amazing capacity to accept life’s changes, as well as the resilience to reinvent themselves and start over again.

Published by Simon and Schuster UK 27th April 2023

Meet the Author

I’ve been writing since I was a teenager, which is now a distressingly long time ago! I started out as an entertainment journalist – actually, my earliest published work was as a reviewer of science fiction and fantasy books. I went on to become a staff writer and then an editor for print magazines, before beginning to write non-fiction making-of books tied in to film and television, such as The Art and Making of Penny Dreadful and Wonder Woman: The Art and Making of the Film. 

I now write both children’s and adult fiction – my first novel was called The Diamond Thief, a Victorian-set steampunk adventure book for the middle grade age group. That won the Redbridge Children’s prize in 2014, and I went on to write two more books in the series before moving on to other adventure books including The Golden Butterfly, which was nominated for the Carnegie Award in 2017, The House of Hidden Wonders, and a YA horror called FIR, which was shortlisted for the Lancashire Book of the Year Award in 2018. 

My debut adult novel was published by Simon & Schuster in August 2021. It was called The House Beneath the Cliffs and it was set in a very small coastal village in Scotland. The idea for it had lodged in my head years before. I have a love for unusual dwelling places and I came across a tiny house that completely captured my imagination. My adult fiction tends to centre on small communities – feel-good tales about how we find where we belong in life and what it means when we do. Although I have also published full-on adult horror stories, which are less about community and more about terror and mayhem…

I was born in Kent but now live in a very small house in an equally small village in northern Cumbria with my husband, who owns a bookshop in the nearby market town of Penrith.

Posted in Random Things Tours

The Walled Garden by Sarah Hardy

Posted on by thelotusreaders

I found this historical fiction debut absolutely captivating from the beginning. It begins with Lord and Lady Rayne who live in the big house, Oakburne Hall, with just enough room to avoid each other as much as possible. In fact since he returned from the war, Stephen has slept in a small room in the servant’s quarters while Alice lays alone in their marital bed. She finds refuge in their garden, hoping that even in these dark post-war years some seeds of hope will grow.

‘Some secrets are too terrible to tell. And in 1946 Britain is a country where most keep silent. What you witnessed during the war, what you sanctioned, what you are still afraid of, is left unsaid. For those bitter years of conflict and separation you buoyed yourselves up on sentiment, crooning ‘We’ll Meet Again’. And we did meet again, thinks Alice Rayne, only to discover we have nothing to say to one another.‘

No one survives war unscathed and though bodies are healing, their psychological wounds run deep. Those who were left behind are just as scarred as those who left to fight. Stephen Rayne was once sweet and gentle and his wife Alice truly loved him. Yet he has returned a man that she doesn’t recognised. He is bitter and angry, destroyed emotionally by what he has seen and done, holding on to secrets Alice can only guess at. She is lonely and although she hates to admit it, she is increasingly afraid of the man her husband has become, Alice is struggling to put together the pieces of her marriage and save Oakbourne Hall from total collapse. After two lots of death duties, money is incredibly tight so she begins with the walled garden and, as it starts to bear fruit, she finds the seeds of a new and forbidden love being sown.

I had so much empathy for Alice and all women who longed for the man they loved to return, only to find their relief and joy cut short when a stranger came home in their place. I’ve read a lot of novels set post-WW1, but not many set after WW2, but the same social changes come up in 1946. People are struggling financially, at the big house two world wars have taken two heirs in quick succession and the family can’t afford to repair or develop the hall. The villagers are coping with grief, poverty and rationing, and still waiting for men who’ve not yet returned. Women have once again stepped into the breech and taken on men’s jobs, giving them even more freedom and an unwillingness to be pushed back into their traditional roles. In this village, it’s not only Stephen and Alice who are suffering and as they come up against other people’s trauma the results are profoundly moving. The social change is well explored through the character of the village GP, another changed man whose longing for social justice leads to arguments with his wife and children, not to mention Stephen. Clergyman George holds so much guilt, because his ill health meant he didn’t go to fight. How can he minister to these men who’ve been through so much, things he can’t even imagine? As Stephen isolates himself more from his wife, Alice finds solace restoring the walled garden and in talking to George with whom she strikes up a friendship. He is learning about gardens and she is learning about his love of classical music.

As the friendship between George and Alice deepens, she has to think about what she wants. She has loved Stephen for so long, but his angry and violent outbursts are scaring her. Can she love this new person? George listens and appreciates her opinions, in a way she hasn’t had for a long time. When she takes a break from Oakbourne and visits her sister in London, she meets with George in a pub where his beautiful singing voice is in demand at the piano. This interlude is like a time outside of reality, where all worries and cares are set aside. With the late hour and room for George to stay at her sister’s flat will emotion boil over? In all this time, George is struggling with his ministry and his feelings for Alice. When Stephen also confides in him he has a terrible choice to make, does he guide Stephen towards speaking to his wife and saving his marriage? On the other hand, he could advise him in a way that would benefit his feelings for Alice. It’s a terrible choice to have to make, even worse he knows that his lungs are deteriorating and if he doesn’t take up the GP’s offer of treatment abroad he has only months to live. Will he follow his heart or will he sacrifice his own feelings to minister to this couple as their spiritual guide?

This is such an emotional crescendo, especially since we’re also sent back into the war and Stephen’s time infiltrating the french resistance and helping them to fight against the Germans. There, he has to make a horrible choice in order to save someone from a worse fate. His choice haunts him, although in reality he is forced to act by his knowledge of the barbarity of the German soldiers. The Maquis hail him a hero and now want to give him an honour, setting off terrible flashbacks, insomnia and guilt. Even if he tells Alice everything, can their marriage recover? I was so involved with these characters, they were so incredibly real and full of complex emotions. I loved the walled garden as a symbol of hope for the future and Alice’s work there is an act of faith, planting her hope in a symbolic gesture to her marriage and the country as a whole. I think the most moving thing about the whole novel is that this is a war that my grandparents lived through. We are so used to seeing this generation as an example, even recently our actions through Covid and the current cost of living crisis are meant to resemble their grit and determination. I believe the famous David Cameron quote is ‘we’re all in it together’ evoking the stiff upper lip of this very generation. I think because of this nostalgic view on WW2 we forget that this generation had the same emotions and complicated relationships that we do now. This book stopped me from thinking of that generation as a whole and instead to think about individuals and what they went through, how it affected them and their families and the emotional turmoil wrought by couples being apart for years. It was the wartime sections of Andrea Levy’s Small Island that first made me think about these issues and this novel woke those thoughts up again, just in a more rural setting. No generation is better than any other when it comes to trauma, we are all human. This is a stunning debut from Sarah Hardy and I’d love to read her work again.

Meet the Author

Sarah Hardy has lived for the last 10 years on the Suffolk coast which is where her novel is set. Before that she lived in London, Dublin and the Hebrides. She has worked on national magazines and newspapers.