#BookReview #TheBritishBooksellers by #KristyCambron #NetGalley

Publication date: April 9, 2024

NetGalley Description

Inspired by real accounts of the Forgotten Blitz bombings, The British Booksellers highlights the courage of those whose lives were forever changed by war—and the stories that bind us in the fight for what matters most.

A tenant farmer’s son had no business daring to dream of a future with an earl’s daughter, but that couldn’t keep Amos Darby from his secret friendship with Charlotte Terrington…until the reality of the Great War sobered youthful dreams. Now decades later, he bears the brutal scars of battles fought in the trenches and their futures that were stolen away. His return home doesn’t come with tender reunions, but with the hollow fulfillment of opening a bookshop on his own and retreating as a recluse within its walls.

When the future Earl of Harcourt chose Charlotte to be his wife, she knew she was destined for a loveless match. Though her heart had chosen another long ago, she pledges her future even as her husband goes to war. Twenty-five years later, Charlotte remains a war widow who divides her days between her late husband’s declining estate and operating a quaint Coventry bookshop—Eden Books, lovingly named after her grown daughter. And Amos is nothing more than the rival bookseller across the lane.

As war with Hitler looms, Eden is determined to preserve her father’s legacy. So when an American solicitor arrives threatening a lawsuit that could destroy everything they’ve worked so hard to preserve, mother and daughter prepare to fight back. But with devastation wrought by the Luftwaffe’s local blitz terrorizing the skies, battling bookshops—and lost loves, Amos and Charlotte—must put aside their differences and fight together to help Coventry survive.

From deep in the trenches of the Great War to the storied English countryside and the devastating Coventry Blitz of World War II, The British Booksellers explores the unbreakable bonds that unite us through love, loss, and the enduring solace that can be found between the pages of a book.

Review from Coffee&Ink

Amidst the bombing raids in Coventry during WWII, secrets long buried are beginning to emerge from the rubble. It starts with a cello and a deep and abiding love of books and ends with a romance not meant to be before the outbreak of WWI.

The story is told in different points of view and timelines, effectively moving back and forth between the wars. Lady Charlotte loves the music of the cello, but it’s not a very ladylike instrument, and her path is already laid out for her. She shares a love of books with Amos, who works on her family’s estate, and they daydream about owning a bookshop together one day.

In the story’s present, there are two bookstores across the street from one another. The young shopkeepers are fiercely loyal to Lady Charlotte and want to protect her from the dastardly bookseller across the road. Scarred and grumpy Amos is about to close his shop for the night when a stranger walks in. His presence stirs the pot and everything changes—as the bombs fall around them, the past catches up with the present.

Highly recommended emotional historical fiction, so well researched reading feels like inhabiting the place and time.

Thank you NetGalley and AustenProse for a copy of this book to read and review.

#BookReview #TogetherInABrokenWorld by #PaulMichaelWinters #Pacific&Court

NineStar Press

Publishing date: May 21, 2024 

Good Reads Summary

Two boys fall in love in a deadly world, but it’s the secrets they keep that might kill them.

Seventeen-year-old Zach was visiting his uncle in a small Montana town when a mysterious illness ripped through the world. Most died, but those who survived the Infection became mindless killers, spreading the disease with a single scratch. Now, a year later, civilization lies in ruins, and Zach is the town’s sole survivor. Desperately lonely, he longs to return to his family in Seattle, but his fears hold him captive.

Eighteen-year-old Aiden is on a critical mission for the covert Scientific Collective, delivering vials whose contents could cure the Infection. Tortured by his boyfriend’s death, he welcomes the risks of the perilous journey. When a militia attacks Aiden, he flees to Zach’s town.

The boys escape together and soon form a bond as they comfort each other in this desolate and broken world. The farther they travel, the more their affection grows, as do the forces pulling them apart. But their greatest threats are the secrets they keep. Zach hides details of his uncle’s death, and Aiden conceals the vials’ sinister origins. In order to survive, they’ll have to confront the truths that could tear their love apart.

Review from Coffee&Ink

This post-apocalyptic novel is well written, and the world Zach and Aiden inhabit is very well developed. I especially liked the realistic scenario that caused the collapse of civilization—believable and well thought out. I do love a society’s-collapse-is-right-around-the-corner story, and this one had me at page one.

Two first person point of view novels are sometimes hard to pull off, but Zach and Aiden have very different voices, which is one of the things I love about the novel. There are a lot of emotional mysteries to unravel while they evade the Infected, the FLA, and scrounge for food and other supplies. Aiden is on a mission he cannot tell Zach about, and this causes quite a bit of trouble for them throughout.

I highly recommend this action-packed, road trip style story about two teenagers trying to fix their broken world, and their broken selves, with love and humor.

Thank you Kourtney at Pacific & Court for a copy of this novel to read and review.

U is for Undergrowth

The name of this Van Gogh painting is “Undergrowth With Two Figures”

Some details:

Oil on canvas
50.0 x 100.5 cm.
Auvers-sur-Oise: June, 1890
F 773, JH 2041

Cincinnati: The Cincinnati Art Museum

In a letter to his younger brother, Theo, dated June 30, 1890, van Gogh explained the structure and brilliant colors of “Undergrowth with Two Figures”: “The trunks of the violet poplars cross the landscape perpendicularly like columns,” adding “the depth of Sous Bois is blue, and under the big trunks the grass blooms with flowers in white, rose, yellow, and green.” (google Art&Culture)

T is for True Story

Well, this really happened. I think writing the story was my way of processing it.

Training

“See that guy?” Rhonda, the senior server, pointed through the circle of glass in the swinging door between the kitchen and dining room.

Genevieve nodded. The lone man, bald and age-spotted, occupied a table in an otherwise empty room filled with faded Victoriana and late autumn sunlight, eating the breakfast Rhonda had just delivered.

“He eats the same thing every time he comes here. Always alone, a couple times a year late in the season. Eggs Benedict. Bring him two sweet rolls and decaf. You’re new, so he won’t trust you, especially after I’m gone. Bring a steak knife with the eggs. Bring a separate dinner plate of kale.”

“To eat?” Genevieve asked, thinking of the tough crunchy stuff between her own teeth.

“Yeah, the whole plate. Gross, huh?”

“And a knife for poached eggs?”

Laughter erupted in the kitchen behind them. Rhonda smirked, drawing out the moment, Genevieve thought.

“Yeah,” Rhonda said. “So he can kill you if you get his order wrong.”

“Shut up. He’s a nice guy. He tips good.” The red-haired server, Kyleigh, wrung out a clean rag by the sink. “Don’t listen to him, Gen, they’re just trying to scare you.”

The sweating breakfast cook, surrounded by boiling pots, said, “Just don’t make him mad, new girl.”

“Don’t marry him and make him mad!” the prep cook shouted.

“They can’t prove anything,” Kyleigh called back, anger in her voice.

Rhonda glanced through the little window again, Genevieve beside her. Their customer read with his folded newspaper propped against the coffee carafe, cutting up kale with a knife and fork.

“Keep it down, you guys,” Rhonda hissed. “Come here, you.” She pulled Genevieve away from the door, to the other side of the room where the table for salad prep stood, littered with diced tomato, onion, and cucumber. Rhythmic chopping filled the air.

“Listen. Last year there was an article in the  Globe about him. His wife disappeared. At their house, the police found blood.” She paused again, leaning a little closer to Genevieve. “It was hers.”

The prep cook wiped at his red face with his sleeve. “No body, no crime.”

Genevieve pulled her braid nervously. What would she say to the man if he sat in her station? How could she look him in the eye knowing everyone thought he’d murdered his wife?

“You have to have motive,” the salad prep said. “It’s not like he’ll get her life insurance, not until they find her.”

“Maybe she left.” Kyleigh pulled the toaster crumb tray out from the ancient toaster and wiped it off into the sink.

“Maybe she has dementia and wondered away. My grandma does that all the time.” Genevieve started folding napkins, unsure how she felt about contributing to the conversation. She didn’t like to gossip, but it was hard to avoid here.

Kyleigh brushed crumbs from her hands. “Oh, that’s so sad.”

“Maybe she was wicked sick?” The new dish washer brushed by Genevieve with a rack of steaming hot silverware to sort. “Maybe it was a mercy killing.”

“There would be medical records.” The salad prep popped a head of lettuce onto the sideboard and ripped out its stem. “Dr. Kevorkian he’s not.”

“The cops always suspect the person closest to the victim,” Rhonda said, heading back for the dining room. She stopped short with a gasp.

The door swung open, then fell back. A grunt as the heavy wood landed on the arm wrapped in a gray cashmere sweater, accompanied by a rattle of plates.

The breakfast cook bared his teeth and cocked his head. “Heeere’s Johnny!”

Genevieve didn’t think it was funny anymore.

Rhonda swore and waved her arms. “It’s him.”

Kyleigh said, “He can’t come back here. Stop him, Gen.” She wiped her buttery hands on a cloth with quick movements. “Jesus, never mind. Hey, Mr. W,” she sing-song-ed, putting a sashay into her walk. “You’ve got to give the door a hard kick—if he slips and sues us—Gee, are you looking for a job, we’ve got plenty of work back here for you.”

She held the door for him, then took the plates with expert ease as he peered bashfully around the room. Once she unloaded the plates by the dish pit, she led him back to the door, sweet talking him into the dining room. She threw a glare over her shoulder at them. Nobody spoke. Work had effectively stopped.

“Boy, he’s an old man,” the dishwasher finally said.

“What should I do?” Genevieve asked.

Rhonda smirked. “Bring him the check.”

S is for Siena

My very first novel was set in 12^th century Siena. I completed it in 2012 or so, and it was a hot mess, but I got it done. I had only ever completed two short stories before this, and I knew I wanted to write novels and not short stories, so seeing this 100,000 word monster through was important. This particular incarnation won’t see the light of day, but the setting, the story, and the main characters stayed with me, and I’m hoping to get their story reworked and completed one day.

In the 12^th century, Florence and Siena were rivals, divided by many things over the decades. This is the era of Dante, before he was exiled, when he was a young man mooning over Beatrice. There is a famous battle, painted on the walls in a municipal building in Siena’s Campo depicting the battle of Montaperti in 1260.

Siena, like so many towns in Italy, is built on a hill and dates back to Roman times, so it was originally a fort. It’s famous for the horse race, the Palio, that sends bareback riders zooming around the Campo, an ancient tradition.

The military nature of medieval Tuscany is why Siena is divided into contrade, neighborhoods with specific insignia and traditions and intertwining families. When the alarm bells rang, the men of the neighborhoods would go to the warehouse nearby where they kept the weapons. The contrade each also train and race the horses, with colors and emblems centuries old. Each contrade has a church and museum. Tourists don’t go in them. Siena and the Sienese are not interested in tourists or the tourist economy. Sienese see through tourists. It’s very strange compared to other destinations, but I knew about it before we took this trip. The people and the town are very insular, but I’ve read some interesting books about outsiders adopted by a contrada. If you’re interested, Seven Seasons In Siena by Robert Rodi is a book I highly recommend.

Tourists usually only go for day trips to Siena, but we stayed a week. It’s tiny but charming and we walked through all the contrade and from gate to gate to gate. Lots of very steep hills to get the cardio going. I was already in love with the Siena in my head, and I’m dying to go back.

I’m posting some pictures showing the contrade symbols and colors so you can get an idea. They don’t represent any ideals, and I’m not sure what their origins are. There are abolished contrade, too, from before a massive consolidation in the 18th century.

Also, keep in mind this is where the original Romeo and Juliet story came from. A book about this, fiction, is Juliet by Anne Fortier, highly recommended. Writing about them makes me want to read them all over again!

A little hand-drawn love for the Forest…

The black and white flag, if I remember correctly, is the Wolf contrada. Lupa refers to the she-wolf, of Remus and Romulus fame, and the legendary founders of Siena, Senius and Aschius, Remus’s sons.

Onda, the wave. All the contrade also have allies and enemies in the other contrade.

Valley of the Ram. I love all the little embellishments, and they mark the boundaries.

There are 17 contrade. And this post was quite a rabbit hole!

R is for Roma

More travelogue: We’ve never had a bad meal anywhere. Family is from Rome and Naples, back in the day…

Q is for Quail

This is all I’ve got today: Imagination fail.

P is for Porto

The thing about posting the pictures is that I get to relive those moments again. Porto, Portugal is the first place we traveled to post Covid in 2022. In 2019 we were in Granada, but the beloved’s mom, The Lovely Linda, was ill and it was a bittersweet trip, because we knew it was the end, and she was gone the next month. She’s the one who gave us the means, when we were younger, to travel, as she had the wanderlust. The next year, on the eve of the pandemic, we were at her memorial in Baltimore, Maryland, and that’s the last place we visited before the shut downs started.

So Porto was meant to be extra special, and as it turns out, one of the most magical places we’ve visited. The people in general were absolutely sweet and the streets along the Douro River were filled with music and vendors. A party atmosphere pervaded; I think we weren’t the only ones relieved to be out and about and still standing. It was September, and the weather was much like ours was back home, hot and humid, and some days it rained, but that was okay. We weren’t there for the beach.

Well-earned break 🙂

O is for Observable Radio

I just wanted to highly recommend this one if you like “retro sci-fi and analog horror.”

I listen to a lot of different types of podcasts and this one is one of the more excellent story podcasts. I love the premise: stories told through fractured found footage by a mysterious Observer as he tries to make sense of what he’s hearing and what’s going on beyond the wall where he lives.

#BookTour #NightFallsOnPredicamentAvenue #JaimeJoWright #AustenProse

BOOK DESCRIPTION

As the walls of the house at Predicament Avenue reveal their hidden truths, two women–generations apart–discover that fear and foreboding are no respecters of time.

In 1910, Effie James is committed to doing anything to save her younger sister, who witnessed a shocking murder, leaving her mute and in danger of the killer’s retribution. Effie must prove what her sister saw, but when a British gentleman arrives, he disrupts Effie’s quest with his attempts to locate his wife, Isabelle Addington, who was last seen at the supposed crime scene in the abandoned house at 322 Predicament Avenue. Just as Effie discovers what she seeks, she finds that the blood staining the walls will forever link her to a scandal she couldn’t imagine, and to a woman whose secrets promise to curse any who would expose them.

A century later, Norah Richman grapples with social anxiety and grief as she runs her late great-aunt’s bed-and-breakfast on Predicament Avenue. But Norah has little affection for the house and is committed only to carrying out her murdered sister’s dreams until crime historian and podcaster Sebastian Blaine arrives to investigate the ghostly legacy of the house’s claim to fame–the murder of Isabelle Addington. When a guest is found dead, the incident is linked to Isabelle’s murder, and Norah and Sebastian must work together to uncover the century-old curse that has wrapped 322 Predicament Avenue in its clutches and threatens far more than death.

AUTHOR BIO

Jaime Jo Wright (JaimeWrightBooks.com) is the author of ten novels, including Christy Award and Daphne du Maurier Award-winner The House on Foster Hill and Carol Award winner The Reckoning at Gossamer Pond. She’s also a two-time Christy Award finalist, as well as the ECPA bestselling author of The Vanishing at Castle Moreau and two Publishers Weekly bestselling novellas. Jaime lives in Wisconsin with her family and felines.

www.austenprose.com