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 Elijah and Jemma, the duke and duchess of Beaumont, were married far too young. Jemma adored her new husband, but Elijah didn’t quite get it and kept his mistress on the side, for a variety of reasons. When Jemma surprised Elijah at work with a picnic, she was completely devastated to find him making love to his mistress on his desk, and fled the country, hoping he’d follow and make it up to her. Needless to say, he didn’t. Years later, Jemma is a hit in France and has had a few affairs of her own when Elijah passes out in Parliament. He realizes that his health is precarious and he needs an heir, so he asks Jemma to come back. Before they return to their marriage, however, both realize that they must come to terms with each other and understand what went wrong the first time in order to make their marriage work this time.
This is the fifth book in Eloisa James’s Desperate Duchesses series. At the beginning, I thought the series had too many characters, but by book four, which I loved, it became clear to me that Elijah, Jemma, and the duke of Villiers were the true stars, and as a result I’ve been very excited for the last two. It is a bad idea to start here; I had a look on Amazon and virtually everyone who rated this book negatively had not read the first four. If I hadn’t read the first ones, there is just no way I would have already had the attachment to these characters that makes this book work so well, so for anyone who is interested in This Duchess of Mine, keep that in mind.
That said, I loved this book. It starts off with a bang as Elijah saves Jemma, the background of which is fully detailed in When the Duke Returns, then slows down into a more sedate pace. I will admit that the first half of the book after this was a little too slow. Jemma attempts to set Elijah up with another woman so he has some fun and realizes that he only wants her, but it mostly backfires, as anyone who has been reading the series will know. When that ends, and Elijah and Jemma finally fall in love again, the book picks up in a big way and becomes beautiful and heartbreaking. Skip this next bit if you don’t want a spoiler:
Essentially, Elijah has a condition which could kill him at any time, and there is no known cure. Jemma’s realization that when finally all is right in the world, all is really wrong, is well done and touching. I knew that because it was a romance novel, there had to be a happy ending, but I still worried for him and felt for her as they searched for a cure.
As usual, the duke of Villiers plays a part in this novel, namely searching for his missing bastard children once he realizes how horrible their circumstances must be as he unknowingly put a dodgy solicitor in control of them. His book, the last, is next, and I am practically dancing in my seat with anticipation. His character development over the series has been just amazing and I can’t wait to see who gets him in the end.
This review has gone on and on, but I just want to end with a quick comment on Eloisa James’ writing. Her intelligence and education really shows with stunning prose that stands out in the genre. Her books are a cut above the rest and at this point, I know I’ll be out looking for more after this series is over.
 When Meggie is a young girl, her poor family receives the opportunity to go live near and work for her rich aunt in Australia. After eking out a difficult living in New Zealand, her parents seize the opportunity, taking Meggie and their many sons with them to become ranchers on the Australian outback. While living in Australia, Meggie meets the preacher, Ralph de Bricassart, when she is still a child. The ambitious priest and innocent little girl bond unexpectedly, particularly as Meggie grows into a woman with her own wants and desires. This relationship is at the heart of a generational saga about strong, independent men and women determined to make the best out of lives sometimes marred by scandal, heartbreak, and tragedy.
I’ve been looking forward to The Thorn Birds for what feels like a very long time. I read and enjoyed one of Colleen McCullough’s books about Rome, but I’m not so into Roman history and never really went back to the series. When I heard that she’d written this one about Australia and that it was widely recognized as a great read, but mostly from before I was old enough to know about it, I knew it was a must read for me. When Alyce (At Home with Books) mentioned it as one of her before-blogging favorites just before I went home, I decided to take it on the plane with me, and I read the entire thing over one flight.
I love deep, intricate plotlines that span generations of one family like this, and The Thorn Birds was far from an exception to that. Meggie’s mother’s actions clearly have an effect on her, which trickles down to Meggie’s children and their decisions. Meggie’s relationship with Ralph spans most of the book, growing and changing as the characters themselves age and mature. And beyond that, this book really has it all; romance, grief, tragedy, scandal, joy, the struggle of immigration and fitting in, the difficulty of remaining celibate while falling in love, parenthood, sibling rivalry, and so on.
Most of the book is set in Australia and the depiction of it in this novel was stunning. I’m so curious to know if a layer of dust really did collect on everything, if the heat is always that oppressive, and what it’s like to really be a sheep farmer. Obviously the book is set in the early 20th century so things won’t be the same now – I’m sure most Australian homes have air conditioning and women don’t have to wear dresses anymore – but I love stepping back in history and imagining what it might have been like. The Thorn Birds does that wonderfully. The characters also travel; they start out in New Zealand, and eventually go to London, Rome, and Greece, as well as different parts of Australia and different places I’ve probably forgotten. Overall, the descriptions are gorgeous here and it’s very easy to see through the characters’ eyes.
I probably don’t need to tell you after all this that I loved the book, but I will anyway. It was emotionally gripping and compelling and had me spellbound for a good 6 hours as I raced through it. I definitely recommend this to anyone who wants to get lost in these characters and in a huge, decades-long saga.
Over the past few days I’ve received four nominations for the Book Blogger Appreciation Week awards! Thank you so much for thinking of me, everyone! I was nominated for:
- Best Romance Blog
- Best History/Historical Fiction Blog
- Best General Review Blog
- Most Concise
I’ve withdrawn from the first one since I don’t think I’m really a romance blog, and because there are so many fantastic romance blogs that I’d be poor competition, but I’ve selected my five posts for each of the following three categories. I had the most fun easily with best general review blog, I have my favorite reviews and they’re not all historical fiction or history!
Now I’m just crossing my fingers to see if I get moved on to the next round in any of them and doing my part to make the tough decision on my panel. I’d just like to reiterate my thanks, though, and tell you that I’m so flattered you all thought of me. I completely don’t deserve it but I’m thrilled nonetheless. Thank you!
 In this hilarious book about the science of sex, Mary Roach takes a broad look at all the sex researchers who have put their reputations on the line to study something derided by others. She mainly focuses on the last hundred years, discussing such sensitive topics as the female orgasm, male impotence, and animal sexuality with more than a touch of humor that makes this book a surprisingly quick and amusing read, with some information tucked in where no one would ever suspect it.
I have heard a lot about Mary Roach, mostly good. I’m not sure how comfortable I am with her other two books, so I decided to start with this one, especially given that my library had it. I definitely didn’t make a mistake there. This book was constantly laugh-out-loud funny. I was trying to get it read fairly quickly as someone else had placed a hold on it at the library by the time I tried to renew it, so I sat and read it straight through in one solid blast of information. I did not expect it to be so funny. Sex definitely can carry awkwardness, anyone who remembers sixth-grade health class knows that, but Roach turns it around and makes that awkwardness funny, especially when she comments on the roundabout ways the scientists used to describe it in their papers in order to justify their research.
I also found the book to be very informative. This is, after all, non-fiction, and packed with facts about sex. It may be funny and easy to read, but it delivers what is essentially a history and summation of sex research, broken up into categories which are chosen for maximum interest and amusement potential. Most of this information isn’t exactly useful, but it’s certainly not going to be found anywhere else.
Even the way Roach carries out her research is made to be amusing. She writes about the difficulties of figuring out what these scientists actually did, given that she can’t get their videos or equipment, of talking to current researchers, and even of using herself and her husband as subjects in a study. She’s so up front and frank about these things that it’s impossible to feel uncomfortable even when she’s describing being naked in an MRI machine. She travels around the world in aid of her research and must have garnered herself quite a reputation, but part of this book’s aim seems to show us that this is a perfectly valid and interesting research field. It’s awkward, but there is certainly work to be done, and the results are surprisingly worthy.
In my opinion, Bonk is definitely the way popular non-fiction should be done. Funny, light-hearted, but still factual and informative. I definitely recommend this book. Even if the subjects of Spook and Stiff make me somewhat uncomfortable, I’ll probably look into them anyway just because I enjoyed this one so much.
 Holly Frick is convinced she’s still in love with her ex-husband, a year later. Her career is heading downhill, as is that of her writing partner, after she published a novel that did very poorly. Perhaps what’s worst is that Holly has begun sleeping with a 22-year-old and isn’t sure where she is going in life. Her friends even act mysteriously, so that Holly is frustrated by their inability to behave the way she believes they should. She is unhappy, and so are all of the other characters in this charming, short novel about the quest to find that elusive something to brighten up life beyond the mundane.
Sarah Dunn conveys the humanity of her characters to an almost alarmingly perfect degree. They are all searching for something to make them happy, but they go about this in typical human ways which generally backfire. For example, Holly’s friend Amanda, easily the most frustrating character in the entire book, is dissatisfied in her marriage and expresses that dissatisfaction by having an affair, even if she doesn’t realize what she’s doing until afterwards. This seems to me to be such a passive-aggressive way to attempt to sabotage a marriage, and isn’t something I would do, but is in fact something that I have witnessed plenty of men and women engaging in to end a relationship without actually confronting what’s gone wrong. Frustrating, but true.
Similarly, Holly is her own worst enemy when it comes to happiness, but is simultaneously so wonderful and sweet that it’s impossible not to love her as a character. She adopts a dog with cancer just because she had already told him she was taking him home, even when she knows it will probably lead to expensive medical bills and the loss of the pet she already loves. She has an affair with a 22 year old who seems to be in love with her rather than considering men who might be in any way like her ex-husband. And she is surrounded by characters who equally sabotage themselves because they are innately human and as a result, damaged and confused.
All of this is compounded by Sarah Dunn’s lovely writing and clever wit. I read this on a plane and I just know the woman sitting next to me was probably wondering why I was smirking so much, but I couldn’t keep a straight face for much of the time. And the ending had me grinning like a loon because it was very hopeful and sweet.
The book, however, is not exactly perfect. I do think there were too many characters; Holly’s previous ex and his fiancee could probably have been cut out without much loss, and overall the book spent too much time away from Holly. She’s the focus of the narrative, but the various strands of the book don’t pull together as well as they could. Even though I was enjoying it, I didn’t have a problem putting the book down to watch a movie, as the plot was somewhat slow and didn’t compel me to constantly keep reading. I loved the characters, but I couldn’t usually understand their motivations and so I only related to them tangentially.
I do think, however, that Secrets to Happiness is a hugely enjoyable book, and would probably appeal most to the women’s fiction crowd. It’s a light read, but it still left me thinking about the definition of happiness and the many ways in which we prevent ourselves from attaining it.
 From the back cover:
Will and his brother Ned are on the long march from the Fens to North Wales, commandeered into the army of ditch-diggers heading west towards Flint, to prepare the foundations of Edward I’s new castle.
The lads are nervous, and rightly so, for not only is Ned a mute, whose abilities as a horse-whisperer and herbalist make him suspicious in the eyes of their English overseers, but they have been close to the enemy. Ned had been secretly taking lessons in music from Ieuan ap y Gof, an exiled bard, not long before the ‘recruiters’ came. The boys find themselves besieged on all sides – unsure of their own allegiances and in danger of being thought traitors.
Finding Ieuan and saving Ned tests Will to his limits. Finally, when all appears lost, he learns that love is sometimes harder to understand than death itself.
First, I think it’s worth noting that this book is narrated by Will but in three different time periods, denoted by a little symbol. The first is when he is a boy, marked by a shovel, and in third person. The second is the book’s main story, marked by a swan, and the third is narrated by an older Will and marked by a cross, and often this last is directed straight at the reader as if Will’s talking to us. For the most part I liked this, it allows flashback without too much confusion, but it did take me a couple of chapters to realize which symbol was which. After that, I enjoyed the multiple perspectives and almost instantly learning how the characters got to be where they are in the main story. It’s a short book, so the plot isn’t terribly complex, and the multiple viewpoints flesh out the story more.
I also really liked that this book feels medieval. A lot of historical fiction romanticizes everything, and generally I’m okay with that, but on occasion I like a book that is properly grim, violent, and stinky. There’s more to medieval life than that here, but it exudes the atmosphere I can definitely imagine existing around a medieval building site, especially for a castle when they are digging the moat. There is also some violence, people are murdered, but I wouldn’t say that it is too gruesome. Just realistic in a culture where people eagerly stood around to watch men be hanged, drawn, and quartered, and then saw various body parts gradually rotting away on their city walls every day.
Will is probably the only character worth mentioning in terms of likeability, since the other main character, Ned, is mute, but luckily he is likeable. This is something of a coming-of-age for him as he learns a lot about his family and himself over the course of the narrative. He often refers to himself as a skinny, mouthy brat, but I felt like he went beyond that limited definition and came to embrace more of his potential as the book went on.
I really liked Flint. It was a welcome break from more romantic historical fiction and a great, quick coming-of-age story with an endearing main character. I would definitely recommend it to others who enjoy historical fiction or are perhaps looking for something a little bit different than their normal read.
 Lady Elizabeth Grey’s husband was killed at the Battle of St. Albans and she desperately wants his lands back for her two little boys. She is tired of living in her parents’ home and would like her independence. So she stands out in the road as the new king, Edward IV, rides by, holding their hands and hoping he’ll see her. He does see her and takes note not only of her problems, but of her beauty, and before she knows it, Elizabeth is the queen of England and in almost over her head with politics and intrigue. She is a Woodville, though, and she will perservere, going to the edge to push her family as high as it can possibly go before her tower of cards topples around her.
This is going to be a good long review, as I have a lot to say on this book. For those who skim, here’s my verdict: much better than I was expecting!
If you know me and have been reading my blog, you’ll know that I’ve been working on a dissertation about Anthony Woodville (and fifteenth century chivalric culture in England overall) for what feels like forever. As such, this book was bound to touch on a topic near and dear to my heart, and it was bound to get some of the facts wrong, if only for the sake of storytelling. So it does; the Woodville family was loyal to Edward IV after 1461 but before he married Elizabeth, and Anthony was sent to besiege Alnwick Castle on his behalf with the earl of Warwick in 1463, not to mention that Elizabeth’s father Lord Rivers had already been appointed to office. The beginning was anachronistic in another way because Edward kept being referred to as a boy, and there is no way anyone in the medieval period would have considered a man who had commanded and won two battles a boy. I can see that she did this more for characterization purposes, especially given he was younger than Elizabeth, so I don’t mind as much, but still worth noting. And Anthony was not at Tewkesbury, although he was definitely in London and fighting when Thomas Neville arrived. There is also the whole magic subplot, but I thought that was actually quite creative, and historical inaccuracy only bothers me if people believe it’s true. I don’t think anyone would ever believe Elizabeth and Jacquetta were witches. I could go on, but I’ll spare you.
All that said, Philippa Gregory got more right than wrong in this instance and I was pleasantly surprised. No one is needlessly victimized here; in fact Elizabeth is quite a sympathetic character which is refreshing after all of the villainizing that typically surrounds her. Even Richard III is not a villain but a multi-faceted man whose ambition just kept on pushing a little too far. The rest of the history is in many ways what has been fictionalized before, and I found nothing that really bothered me. All things considered I enjoyed this book after the first fifty pages and I wasn’t expecting to. Gregory even included Anthony’s poem, which is authentic and the only one that survives; she inflates his reputation to some extent, but I didn’t mind, it fit in.
Gregory writes well, and in general the book is absorbing even for someone who has heard it all before. It’s romanticized, but in the way that makes us sigh and wish we had a big blond knight to save the day. It’s exciting and tense because everything is dangerous, and because I kept wondering who was going to kill the princes in this version. Another interesting twist there, and I think we’re meant to guess at what she means, but for someone who doesn’t know the history, it’s a nice question. And in the end, I like the way Gregory twisted things here. It’s interesting and it’s different when the story has been done over and over again. Given the fluidity of history itself, I found myself enjoying the way she pushes boundaries and suggests things that probably didn’t happen but might have done. I didn’t want to read another fictional recap of the Wars of the Roses, but Gregory made it a little bit new, and despite myself I think I’m looking forward to The Red Queen very much, even if I don’t think anyone ever called these ‘the cousin’s wars’.
In other words, I do recommend The White Queen. It is historical fiction, after all, and if you’re going to read another book that fictionalizes the Wars of the Roses, I highly suggest this one.
Amazon | Amazon UK
 Stealing the back cover description this time because this is so complex:
In his most dazzling novel since the groundbreaking New York Times bestseller An Instance of the Fingerpost, Iain Pears tells the story of John Stone, financier and arms dealer, a man so wealthy that in the years before World War One he was able to manipulate markets, industries, and indeed entire countries and continents.
A panoramic novel with a riveting mystery at its heart, Stone’s Fall is a quest to discover how and why John Stone dies, falling out of a window at his London home. Chronologically, it moves backwards–from London in 1909 to Paris in 1890, and finally to Venice in 1867– and in the process the quest to uncover the truth plays out against the backdrop of the evolution of high-stakes international finance, Europe’s first great age of espionage, and the start of the twentieth century’s arms race.
Like Fingerpost, Stone’s Fall is an intricately plotted and richly satisfying puzzle–an erudite work of history and fiction that feels utterly true and oddly timely–and marks the triumphant return of one of the world’s great storytellers.
I had an interesting time with Stone’s Fall. I read most of it in a couple of days, then set aside the last 200 pages to be read several weeks later. I didn’t do it on purpose, I just didn’t feel like lugging such a huge book on a plane with me. It’s worth noting that I wasn’t particularly compelled to pick it up again, especially as I’d forgotten most of what happened, but I enjoyed the end when I got to it.
Since it’s set in three time periods, it takes a bit of patience to see where this book is going. At first, everything seems clear. John Stone and his wife Elizabeth are fairly ordinary as millionaires go; it’s only when Stone falls out a window and Elizabeth invites reporter Matthew Braddock into their home that things get interesting. Stone has insisted that they find an illegitimate child of his before the will can be settled, but no one can find this child. And so this twisting mystery begins with a search, but widens into something much more.
Despite its massive length, Stone’s Fall needed every word to pull off its twisting plot. Even though the story goes back in time, we have no idea what the outcome in the present time is until the full story is told, and that outcome is extremely unexpected. I can’t imagine anyone guessing the result of this mystery and it’s all the better for it; I like a little unpredictability in my reading. It’s hard to get attached to the characters, especially as we’re treated to details of their sordid pasts, but they are complex and well-developed in all stages of their lives. I thought the best character was the man who represented Venice in the book’s last segment. The city is a character, so it makes perfect sense for it to be manifested as a human being. This was a nice touch.
If you like long, involved mysteries, I would recommend Stone’s Fall to you. It would be a great read for anyone else, too, but I do have to suggest not putting it down once you get involved! It’s hard to pick up the pieces in such a convoluted plot, at least not until it starts to make sense towards the end. I am still looking forward to An Instance of the Fingerpost by this author, which is sitting on my TBR pile staring at me.
 It’s looking like my reading totals for August are going to be down from the past three months. I’ve finished 10 books so far and we’re halfway through, so that will leave me with 20, a fairly significant drop from 30 and 31 in June and July. I’ll be back up there in September though. My dissertation is due in completed form to my supervisor on September 3rd, and while I’ll probably have some edits to do after that, I won’t have time for the intense reworking I’m doing now. I’ve actually done most of the work already (go me!) so I have about 2 weeks just to form a conclusion from an essay I’ve already written and my own thoughts.
I’ve been feeling very nostalgic this month; it’s my last month in full-time school and I find myself missing my undergrad university and friends more than ever. I don’t like stages of transition, I prefer to be one place or another, not in between. I’m sure it’s because I haven’t been reading as much. Do you find that not having time to read as much as you’re used to reflects in your mood as well?
Well, that brings us to what I have been reading this week. I just finished Philippa Gregory’s The White Queen last night and found myself enjoying it far more than I’d expected by the end. What got me was that even though she plays with the facts, none of it is needless or derogatory and I found it a refreshing new spin – for fiction – on a story I’ve read in various forms many, many times. Not even the magic really bothered me, because I don’t believe that anyone is going to go around convinced that Jacquetta and Elizabeth were witches. Historical accuracy only gets to me if I think people are going to believe that something wrong is true, and that’s not the case here, so I liked it. I bet that’s a surprise to many who know me – it was a surprise for me too!
 Right now I’m reading The Day the Falls Stood Still by Cathy Marie Buchanan so my mom can get a book off Amazon Vine on Thursday. It’s billed as a love story with some tragedy tossed in, set around Niagara Falls in the early 20th century and loosely based on the life of a real man. So far, it’s not earth shattering, but I like it. This brings me to another point; both this and The White Queen are written in present tense. It gives a certain feel, but I’m not sure I like it as much as past tense. It can dissolve into the story if I read long enough, but it always bugs me a little in the beginning. What do you think? Do you prefer past or present tense? What about 1st or 3rd person? Or do you not care?
That’s enough from me for now. I’ll leave you with two bits of news. One, the wonderful Michelle Moran, whose Cleopatra’s Daughter I will be reading and giving away shortly, has asked that I mention her contests. You can find details about them here. They sound exciting, and I know if I was still in the US I’d go hunting in a few of those independent bookstores. Two, you have until Wednesday to enter to win a copy of American Lion by Jon Meacham from me, and you can do that here.
Next weekend I will be in Cornwall, so expect pictures when I come back! Have a great week everyone!
 I’m going to be a little different and review these together. They are different books, but they have essentially the same overall plot seen through two different characters. John experiences different things than Zoe does, but the main events are the same and I thought it would be easier on my blog schedule to just combine!
After spending eight years on Huckleberry, John Perry and his wife Jane, a former Special Forces soldier, are recruited to help start a new world on Roanoke. Their daughter, Zoe, doesn’t have as much choice in the matter, but is completely ready herself to move on, with her two Obin companions in tow as always, since she is revered as a near goddess by the Obin race. From the moment the family and their settlers first see Roanoke, they know that nothing is going to be quite what they expected and soon they find themselves embroiled in what may be an intergalactic war. John, Jane, and Zoe must each use their special advantages in order to keep the colony alive and save all of those they love.
First of all, I just loved the way these books worked together. I am actually quite a fan of the same story told from two different perspectives, although it was surprisingly difficult for me to yank myself out of John’s head and place myself into Zoe’s since I read the books in a row. John Scalzi’s brand of prose is very distinctive and while Zoe is certainly a teenage girl (and many props to him and his female test-readers for pulling that off) I have gotten used to the idea that his writing = a man. This is one of the instances in which having a very distinctive writing style worked against the book. I got over it eventually. I loved the way that certain holes left in The Last Colony were filled masterfully by Zoe’s Tale in particular. What’s amazing is that Scalzi didn’t even plan it that way, but rather came back and thought about how things came to be from Zoe’s perspective.
The story itself is, as always, a very interesting one. More and more problems occur from almost the first pages of the books onwards as the Roanoke colonists realize just how very much trouble they’re in. Both of these books are very quick reads; they’re on the short side and it’s difficult to put them down. By now I love all the characters and I have them firmly in my head, but they still develop here. This is especially so for Zoe, who is a teenager and changing faster than you can imagine with all the pressure placed on her. She learns so much about the world but I didn’t find any of it to be too much, if that makes sense. She develops but in a more realistic way given her extraordinary lifestyle.
I love these books. I’m a little sad that we’ve left these characters behind, probably for good. I adored the entire series and I highly recommend it, even if you don’t like science fiction. I know I didn’t. These are still fantastic books, with strong characters, an exciting plotline, and plenty of laughter and emotional intensity.
The Last Colony | Zoe’s Tale
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