A Slow Fire Burning, book review. (Paula Hawkins)

Much like Paula Hawkins' second book, Into the Water, A Slow Fire Burning is a book full of characters. Some you like, some you don’t, some you feel sorry for and some you want to throttle but all the same, they all seemed well rounded to me, particularly Laura Kilbride – a girl who has nothing but a shit life and a limp - a limp we later find out was caused by the man who was having an affair with her mother when he knocked her off of her bike (she was thirteen), before fleeing the scene, only to become her step-father a few years later – and I particularly liked Irene, who is widowed, elderly, a good neighbour and has Laura buy her shopping for her.
Then there’s Daniel Sutherland, who has been stabbed to death on a narrowboat in the centre of London, and the setting alone, with its alleyways, bridges, toe-paths and splattering of expensive houses juxtaposed with Laura’s high-rise council flat, is like a character in its own right (there’s a map included, too, so don’t worry), and adds a lot to the story.
In addition we have the nosey neighbour, Miriam: 53, dumpy, unattractive (her words not mine), keeps herself to herself, but has a tendency to be very vigilant - which stems from the time she and a friend where kidnapped when they were fifteen and her friend was killed – who happens to see Laura one morning (the morning after the murder), leaving Daniel’s boat with blood on her cloths, as does a local author, Theo Myerson, whose house fronts the river.
Now, Theo was married to Carla but after the loss of their son, Ben, thirteen years earlier, they separated; it is Carla’s nephew who has been murdered.
Carla’s sister, Angela, who also lives by the river (next door to Irene in fact) and has spent the last thirteen years drinking to block out the tragedy of Ben falling to his death from her balcony when she was supposed to be looking after him as opposed to shagging some bloke, is also dead; but is falling down the stairs when you're an alcoholic suspicious or not?

The writing here is clever in revealing just enough about the double lives being led, the hatred and obsessions between characters and in some cases their history, that I found it hard to put down, and it has suspense, fear, sadness and kept me guessing until the big reveal at the end, which I loved.
Poor Laura (or is she?), is dragged in for questioning, twice, loses her job and has her flat searched, all whilst Miriam, who found the murder victim, is stealing evidence, tipping of the police and harassing Theo, who in turn, is in and out of his ex-wife's (Carla's) bed, in spite of their separation, and lies continuously.
Crime?
Thriller?
A ‘who done it’?
Maybe it’s all of those.
But who cares for labels when a book takes you through so much at such pace with characters you root for and those you don’t, in such a great setting in the heart of London? I don’t and I suggest neither should you because whether it's Laura, Theo, Carla, little old Irene (remember Miss Marple, who fools everyone time and again into thinking she's a frail old lady sticking her nose in where it isn’t wanted?), Angela, before she had her ‘fall’ or invisible Miriam on her nice tidy narrowboat, who is the murderer, you are going to love finding out.
Four stars for Paula Hawkins’ third novel then, with the only week link being the police officers – although Laura, when she is interviewed is brilliant, and had me totally invested.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them, message me with your recommendations.

Mad Mike's writing blog, book of the year 2021

Welcome again dear friends, book bloggers and avid readers alike, to my annual book of the year post. As usual, this post is not about books written or published this year, it's about books I have read this year, and with this being the year of the re-read, there might be some old favourites, too. I won't bore you with a big long list of all my reads from 2021, for that you can check out my historic posts or look at Amazon/Goodreads for my reviews; so without further ado:-

Kicking things off at number five with a punch in the face is, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. This is not a short book but it's a page turner, feeding you just enough information to keep you guessing and speeding through, and I liked the characters - although there did seem to be a rather high proportion of weirdo's to non mentally challenged people in this book - and when it gets violent it gets seriously X rated violent, so it's definitely not a book for the faint hearted. Highly recommended though, for it has depth and intrigue and to all those who like books with grit, mystery, multiple characters and with a good dose of back-story, you'll love it. (Full review shortly).

My number four is Clive Barker's sublime, Weaveworld. (07/04/2021 post) "Barker's writing throughout is a triumph, from character believability to the mystical worlds he creates, and although slightly dated in some aspects, the book is simply superb. There is horror and destruction, death and pain but there is love and hope, too and in the cold snow blanketed hills and vales at the end, when good faces evil, you get the feeling that only a truly excellent book can give . . . the feeling that you just don't want it to end," I said back in April. Its been near thirty years since I first read this book and I've fallen in love with it all over again. Pure escapism and highly recommended.

In bronze position then, is the third instalment of one of my all time favourite authors, Cemetery of Forgotten Books series, The Prisoner of Heaven by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. (04/02/2021 post) 'The Prisoner of Heaven is written in the same beautifully menacing but somehow witty prose that led me to attributing the first two books in this series with top honours and possesses the same, must-keep-reading-whatever-the-time-is-because-I-just-can't-put-it-down, style that will have readers up well into night, early in the morning and late for their Zoom meetings. A fantastic read then,' I told you all back in February and I suspect it always will be.

So, the runner up spot goes to the all-time classic and must read, Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier. (27/o6/2021 post) “Opening with one of the most famous lines in literary history, Du Maurier writes with such skill and passion throughout that even when we encounter the mundane, those elements of daily life . .  you are still enveloped in the scene . . . and it is this skill, along with her amazing ability to create tension out of nothing, like the change in the weather, a thunderstorm with no rain, Maxim de Winter confessing his crime two thirds of the way through the book but leaving Rebecca's secret, the fate of Maxim and Manderley to the end, that elevates the author and this novel to one of the best I have read,” I said at the time, and I stick by that now more than ever.

And the winner, my book of the year 2021 is the epic (albeit short), All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque. (13/11/2021) "If you have no interest in history, war, death et al, I won't hold it against you, but put those prejudices aside and buy, download and read this book because no other fictional book I've read has ever taken me closer to understanding just a smidgen of what people went through when they fought during World War I," I said back in November and I felt so passionate about this book then, and still do now, that I believed it should be part of our school curriculum (if it's not already), so that every child in this country can learn what not to repeat in the future.

Don't forget to search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them, message me with your recommendations.

Stay safe everyone, get your jabs and we'll do it all again in 2022. Happy New Year to you all.

Mrs de Winter, book review. (Susan Hill)

Having just reread Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca (see 27/6/21 post), loving it just as much

as I did the first time, and being thoroughly in awe of the author once again - My Cousin Rachel and Frenchman's Creek having cemented my love for her books even more - I thought I would reread this, Susan Hill's sequel, straight after.

With Susan Hill also in my top ten authors, I had high hopes, and coming off of the back of Rebecca, with all that went on at Manderley fresh in my mind, it was the right thing to do.

So, over a decade has passed since our unnamed narrator and her husband (and murderer) Max de Winter fled to Europe. The authorities do not pursue them, for the death of his first wife Rebecca was deemed an accident, but the memories of her death, the burning of Manderley, the bribery attempt by Rebecca's cousin, Jack Favell and the cold icy fear that Mrs Danvers installed in the first book, still do, so they stay away, far, far away, until . . .
They are summonsed back to England for a funeral.
Max's sister has died.

They arrive back in the nick of time, planning to stay only a shot while - only long enough to settle some affairs, put the estate in order et cetera, but Frank Crawley, Max's right-hand man from Manderley is there, and he is well and enjoying life in the highlands of Scotland, so they must visit him before they depart - take flight! - surely?

As with Rebecca, the tension in this book is subtle at first: our narrator being concerned for Max's health if they return, what people might say and think; that everyone will remember the outcome of the inquest into Rebecca's death but possibly have had their heads turned in their absence, but when those fears do not materialise and they find an idyllic but somewhat neglected Manor House in the Cotswolds, all seems well with the world.
Then, Jack Favell! Rebecca's cousin and lover.
The chance encounter with Favell in London brings to the fore our narrator's fears, and the lies she tells as to why she's there, along with the demands for money that begin to arrive a few weeks later, create more tension, and her and Max's relationship becomes tense, and then . . .
Mrs Danvers, and the De Winter's relationship hardens further, the garden party that Mrs de Winter was so looking forward too ceases to hold interest - painful memories of the Manderley ball come flooding back - trust is lost and secrets are revealed and . . . and . . .

Susan Hill's writing is as always, exemplary, but I did find some elements of the story a little drawn out, not quite as punchy as they could have been and I wondered whether a shorter book might have been better, but with passages like, 'It was not the the flowers at which I started, in horror, not the printed words that chilled me, splintered the sky and fractured the song of the blackbird, darkened the sun. It was the single handwritten letter, black and strong, tall and sloping. R,' you can see why I hold the author in such high esteem.

Three and a half stars for Mrs de Winter then. A thoroughly good read.

Don't forget, search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them message me with your recommendations.

 

Rebecca, book review (Daphne du Maurier)

Opening with one of the most famous lines in the history of literature, Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca will be no stranger to many of you, as it wasn't for me, but with my memory for all things past being somewhat vague, and the passage of time since I first picked up this masterpiece being rather long, I thought it only right to add it to my 'year of the reread' list.

Beginning with a short dream - the one of Manderley - before being whisked off to Monte Carlo where our unnamed narrator is the bored and rather put-upon companion to a Mrs Van Hopper (a rich but rather crude woman, who quickly falls ill), she soon finds herself lunching, riding around in a motor car, and falling in love with the recently widowed Mr de Winter.

There is a distinct difference in their ages, upbringing (read: breeding) and social standing, but a connection has been formed, and so, when Mrs Van Hopper discovers that she has to leave post-haste for New York, a decision has to be made and Mr de Winter proposes.

They honeymoon for several weeks before returning home but with the bride having no family to return home to, they head for Cornwall, to Manderley.

There are four main characters in this novel: Rebecca, Mr de Winter, our narrator and Manderley - sorry Mrs Danvers - with its imposing mile long drive, its vast grounds, mazes of passageways and unseen doors, and of course, let us not forget, The West Wing - where Rebecca used to reside before her unfortunate accident at sea. However, where the house oozes a charm and warmth but with a sense of foreboding, Mrs Danvers dispenses with the former as she robotically runs the house, and she is very much the 'other woman', sometimes spooking the new Mrs de Winter by turning up when least expected, and her presence, her constant niggling, her suggestion on what dress her new mistress might wear to the upcoming fancy dress ball, the fact that she keeps the West Wing as a homage to Rebecca - her old possessions, even down to her hair brushes, remain as they were the night she died - all adds to the sense that Rebecca has never left; that she's still there, alive in the walls, the furnishings, in the flowers that grow outside or are cut and placed in vases around the house.

There's also Frank Crawley, the estate manager, Bee and Giles, Maxim de Winter's sister and brother-in-law and Jack Favell, Rebecca's cousin and all round bad egg, but the really clever thing about this book is how the characters with no real voice - Rebecca is dead remember and a house can't talk - monopolise the narrative. Of course, Mrs Danvers plays a key roll in unsettling the new Mrs de Winter by reminding her how beautiful Rebecca was, how organised and successful her running of the house was, how much everyone loved her, flocked to her, held her in the highest esteem, which speeds you through the book in no time.

Du Maurier writes with such skill and passion throughout this book that even when we encounter the mundane, those elements of daily life like: walking the dog, eating breakfast, reading the paper, you are still enveloped in the scene, to the extent that you can almost hear the ticking of the carriage-clock, the creek of a floorboard, the rustle of a folding newspaper, and it is this skill, along with her amazing ability to create tension out of nothing, like the change in the weather, a thunderstorm with no rain, Maxim de Winter confessing his crime two thirds of the way through but leaving Rebecca's secret, the fate of Maxim and Manderley to the end, that elevates the author and this novel to one of the best I have read.

Five stars then for Rebecca and a commitment to continue working my way through the author's extensive back catalogue.

Don't forget, search my blog for your favourite authors and books and if I haven't read them yet, message me with your recommendations

The Seven Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle, book review. (Stuart Turton)

Oh No!

Have I found my book of the year 2020 already?

Well . . . Maybe!

Confusing, fast-paced, witty, horrific intriguing and I'll-be-damned-if-I'm-putting-this-book-down-it's-only-half-past-one-in-the-morning-and-I-really-really-really-need-to-know-who-the-murderer-is, oh, shit it’s . . .!

If you like murder mystery, crime, romance, character lead drama, family sagas, a good old punch up, some serious skulduggery and subterfuge, then you are simply going to love this book.

Set in the eloquent but scratch-beneath-the-surface-and-you'll-see-the-peeling-paint-mansion that is home to the Hardcastle family and has been for generations, we find our main protagonist (Aiden Bishop) trapped in the body of a man he does not recognise, a man who feels utterly alien to him in both body and mind, and it all kicks off like a slap in the face.

Aiden Bishop will have eight hosts throughout the book, each reliving the day of Evelyn Hardcastle's death (which at first appears to be a suicide) from different perspectives and it reads like Agatha Christie does Cluedo.

Aiden Bishop is assisted by Anna, whose name is the only thing he remembers when he first wakes as the cowardly drug peddling Sebastian Bell, deep in the woods, but as the days pass he morphs into a butler, a morbidly obese Lord, a rapist and a cad, an aging solicitor, a gambler, all before becomes a policeman and finally, an artist, who help, but in some cases hinder, in his search for the truth, and it'll be all for nothing if he can't solve the murder before the end of the eighth day, for that's when the cycle will reset, his memory will be wiped and everything will start afresh, taking him back to the very beginning, where it will continue to loop, for however long it takes him to not only find out who the perpetrator of Evelyn's murder is, but the reason why they want her dead in the first place.

I love the way this book is written, how Aiden battles inside each of his hosts: disgusted by the Lord's obesity, the solicitor's contempt, the gambler's cunning, the rapist's despicable mind and more.

With each character helping to reveal more about what may or may not have happened and the delicate intricacies between them as they try to gain favour and information - some becoming incapacitated and popping up randomly through the book, others making their bid for freedom - Aiden is gradually left with fewer and fewer friends and even fewer option. So should he trust the not so trustworthy Anna? The man in the death mask? Should he trust anything he's learnt over the last eight days? And where the hell is their host, Evelyn's mother, Mrs Hardcastle, who no one's seen all day?

Simply put, this book is brilliant. It’s original, has superb characters and just keeps going until the very end. Highly recommended.

Four and a half stars then and don't be surprised if you see this book making an appearance in December when I decide on my book of the year.

Herts & Minds anthology is launching on Wednesday 11th December 2019

If you like ghosts, ghouls, and Werewolves, the beauty of the English/Hertfordshire countryside, a wandering cat cast in bronze, that comes alive by night, historical fiction, death by dangerous driving, poetry, or a good old fashioned crime drama, then you're going to love the Hertford Writers' Circle 2019 anthology, Herts & Minds.

From our home town of Hertford to New York, from the slave trade to murder, from Welwyn to the remotest corner of Ireland, this book will take you there and further.

Packed with dramatic stories about snakes, flowers, aliens, bullying, a dystopian Hertford, and finding a corpse in the boot of your car, we've got it all, and you could too if you are in Hertford on the night of the 11th December (Wednesday) and would like to join us at the books official launch (7:30 pm, Courtyard Arts, Port Vale, Hertford, SG14 3AA) but if you are not, if you hail from further afield but would like to purchase a copy - for yourself, a friend or for Christmas - just message me in the comments or via my Amazon author account and I'll make sure a copy wings its way over to you as soon as possible.
For an exclusive extract from this anthology, visit my blog again on Christmas Eve, for I will be posting, The Sprout that Ruined Christmas, which I may also read at the launch if I feel brave enough.
Enjoy.

The Vanishing, book review. (Tim Krabbe)

This book is a tiny thin sliver of excellence.

Told in the third person but from just two perspectives - the victim's boyfriend’s and the perpetrator’s - it is simple, short, but shocking in equal measure.

I haven't seen the film or films - apparently there are two - so I didn't have any spoilers to deal with, and whizzed through it in just a few hours; yes, it is that short.

I've read quite a few books by European authors recently, and have liked them all, Tim Krabbe's being no exception, but ultimately, this book is too short; a novella really.

The story starts with Rex and Saskia driving through France, they are going on holiday, but before they reach their destination, they decide to stop for fuel and sustenance.

Before continuing their journey, Saskia returns to the shop for drinks and vanishes.

Cut to Frenchman, Raymond Lemorne, a married high school teacher, who dives into a canal and saves a young girl from drowning, and then, after his act of valour, he wonders: is he's capable of doing something equally vicious?

He'd saved the life of a random stranger, but can he now take one, and in the cruellest possible way?

Skip forward eight years: Rex has sort of moved on, but he still thinks about Saskia everyday, and then, out of nowhere, a stranger leaves him a message.
Raymond has found him and admit that it was he, that took Saskia, but before he will tell Rex what happened, he must agree to go through what Saskia went through; he must drink from the cup he is offered, and only then will Raymond reveal all.

Will Rex take the bait? Is it a trick? What became of Saskia? 

I won't spoil it for anyone here, you'll have to read the book, it is after all, only a hundred pages or so, so no excuses, but what I will tell you, is that it's definitely worth finding out.
Could have been a five star book this one, but it's just too short, so four stars.

The Detective's Daughter, book review. (Lesley Thomson)

Crime, it isn't my preferred genre, but I managed to acquire this one for one pound on my Kindle, so gave it a go. 

It was in the most part, quite good, but this book does have its problems. 

Convincing the reader, that a grown man can live entirely undetected in a stranger's (host's) house, for weeks, sometimes months on end, was just too much. In fact, I almost gave up at that point, and with a few to many coincidences stretching the boundaries of belief, you might wonder why I kept going. 

The answer to that is in the strength of the writing. 
Talking of coincidences: The main character, Stella Darnell, happens to run a cleaning company, who cleans for a woman, who lived next door to the woman who was murdered in the early eighties, that her deceased father investigated, (when he was a detective in the Met police) but never solved, that Stella subsequently finds out he was still investigating, when he mysteriously dies.
Then we discover, that her latest employee, is the dead woman's son, and has an intolerance for the colour she has just chosen for her new uniforms, to the point where he vomits. 
Then, Stella starts to date her (spoiler alert) dentist, who turns out to be our murderer! 
Suffice to say, I won't be reading any more of this Lesley Thomson series, but based on her ability to set a scene, to create believable dialogue and plonk the reader smack bang in the middle of a very believable, cold and depressing London during a miserable winter, means that I will endeavour to read something else by the author. 

The finale was both creepy, fast paced and revealing in equal measure.

Her sense of place and description of the capital, had me thinking of another crime novel I read recently, (J.K.Rowling's, The Cuckoo's Calling), which I think, is praise indeed. 

Only three stars for this one then, but just enough for me to remember the name, Lesley Thomson.

Oh, and congratulation to Emily May, fellow blogger from 'The Book Geek', on the birth of her first child. I wait with baited breath, for her book review of 'The Hungry Caterpillar' 

The Cuckoo's Calling, book review. (Robert Galbraith) J.K. Rowling.

I don't read much in the way of crime novels, but, like a million others I suspect, I was gifted this on

the strength of the author's previous books.

Good characters, good story, good setting, (Although a friend of mine tells me there are some accuracy errors here, but as a writer myself, I tell him 'poetic licence'.) and there's a good twist at the end.

So all good than! Here endeth the review!
Well, not quite.

If I could, I would have knocked half a star off of this and gone for three and a half. Why? Stupid names!

I know our influences come from a hundred, a thousand different places, my characters haven't always got standard or English names, I have a Dumonbreville in my latest book and a Mai-Ling in my first, but these are names I have come across, people I have met, and in the case of Dumonbreville, I use it very little in the book because I feel it might interrupt flow.

And that is my main issue, flow.

When I read I want the book to flow, I don't read fast, so it isn't a speed thing, but when the book is encumbered with names like Cormoran Strike and Lula Landry, things start slow down a bit. Throw in a Bryony, Tansy, Deeby, Cyprian and a Ciara and I start thinking about putting the book down.

I'm glad I didn't because the story was good, but next time I'll think twice before reading a Robert Galbraith novel. Maybe the next one could be about the Bristow family. They all had nice, normal names.