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Prayer For The Dead – James Oswald

The fifth novel in the bestselling Inspector McLean series by Sunday Times bestselling author James Oswald.

‘Are you ready to be reborn?’

The search for a missing journalist is called off as a body is found at the scene of a carefully staged murder.

In a sealed chamber, deep in the heart of Gilmerton Cove, a mysterious network of caves and passages sprawling beneath Edinburgh, the victim has undergone a macabre ritual of purification.

Inspector Tony McLean knew the dead man, and can’t shake off the suspicion that there is far more to this case than meets the eye. The baffling lack of forensics at the crime scene seems impossible. But it is not the only thing about this case that McLean will find beyond belief.

Teamed with the most unlikely and unwelcome of allies, he must track down a killer driven by the darkest compulsions, who will answer only to a higher power…

‘Are you ready for the mysteries to be revealed?’

My thanks to Penguin/Michael Joseph and Netgalley for my review copy

Jump back 11 months to 24^th March 2014 when, after a bit of hesitation, I bit the bullet and posted my first review on my blog. I had been toying with the idea of blogging for some time so decided to write a review of the book I had finished earlier that day – it had been a great story from an author I’d not read before. Natural Causes by James Oswald.

7 months later, it’s October 2014. I am officially a ‘fan’ of Mr Oswald’s Tony McLean series and I am sat in Coatbridge Library where, as part of the North Lanarkshire Encounters series, James Oswald is visiting to discuss his books. The evening opened with a reading from the opening chapter of Prayer For The Dead – a debut read as the final edit had only just been confirmed. It was a treat and a pleasure to hear an extract from an unpublished novel and just 4 months later I finally found out what followed! Added bonus from that night was that James Oswald was fabulous and had us hanging on his every word for well over an hour of uninterrupted anecdotes and readings.

But to the book…

Prayer for the Dead is the 5^th outing for Tony McLean and this is another stellar read in a series that has maintained a high standard of entertainment and thrills throughout all the books.

I am always pleased to revisit recurring characters in the books I read and I very much enjoy the team that assemble alongside McLean. Grumpy Bob returns as does Jane Macintyre, Stuart MacBride and even Madam Rose is back. The relationships between the characters is a key element to my enjoyment and there is a genuine feel of a ‘team among the police characters. McLean is supportive of MacBride, tolerant of Grumpy Bob and collectively they grumble over the senior officers who frequently appear to be inept.

More unusual is the ongoing relationship between Madam Rose and Mclean, particularly given how events unfold during Prayer For The Dead. Their friendship is taken in a very unexpected direction and we get to see Rose in a very different light – another nice touch.

The most important element of a crime thriller is that there is an engaging crime to be solved. Very much so I am pleased to report. A few unnatural deaths have occurred around Edinburgh, there does not appear to be any obvious connection yet the cruel manner of the deaths and the short intervals between the murders leads McLean to believe they are the work of one individual.

With no clues to pursue the police are very much in the dark as to how they may track down the culprit (assuming they ARE just looking for one person). With no meaningful progress being made, McLean finds himself distracted by other cases: particularly when the property developers who are trying to get him to sell his home turn up dead and their connection to McLean is investigated by London’s Serious Crime team.

I very much enjoyed Prayer For The Dead, it is a cracking murder mystery with some nasty deaths to squirm over and a sinister murderer who keeps several steps ahead of McLean et al. Fans of James Oswald will not be disappointed with the latest novel…except when it ends and you realise that the next book is ages away!

Prayer For The Dead is available now from Penguin/Michael Joseph and is in all good bookshops, online and in many a supermarket too.

On a final note – I am constantly amused that there is a character called Stuart MacBride in James Oswald’s books. This amusement increased tenfold when I read the apology that Mr Oswald offered to the real Mr MacBride in the author notes at the end of the book. Perhaps I am just easily amused?

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February 18

Winter Siege – Ariana Franklin – Extract from Chapter One

As part of the Winter Siege Blog Tour I am delighted to be able to share an extract from the book with you, and what better place to start than the opening chapter?

Chapter One
The Cambridgeshire Fens, February 1141

At first, news of the war going on outside passed into the fenland without impact. It oozed into that secret world as if filtered through the green miasma of willow and alder that the fenlanders called ‘carr’, which lined its interminable rivers and reed beds.

At Scutney, they learned about it from Old Sala when he came back from his usual boat trip to Cambridge market where he sold rushes for thatching. He told the tale in the village church after the celebration of Candlemas.

‘Now yere’s King Stephen—’ he began.

‘Who?’ somebody asked.

Sala sighed with the exasperation of a much-travelled man for the village idiot. ‘I told you an’ told you, bor. Ain’t Henry on the throne now, it’s Stephen. Old Henry’s dead and gone these many a year.’

‘He never told me.’

‘Well, he wouldn’t, would he? Him bein’ a king and dead.’

As always, the little wooden church smelled of cooking from the rush tapers that had been dipped in fat. Scutney couldn’t afford beeswax candles; anyway, rushes gave out a prettier light.

‘Get on with it, will ’ee?’ Brother Arth struggled out of the rough woollen cope he wore to take the services and into the sheepskin cloak that was his working wear in winter. ‘I got ditchin’ and molin’ to see to.’

They all had, but the villagers stayed where they were – it was as well to be informed about what was going on in them uplands. Sala stretched back his shoulders and addressed his audience again. ‘So this King Stephen’s started a-warring with his cousin, the Empress Matilda. Remember as I told you old King Henry, on his deathbed, wanted his daughter, this Matilda, to rule England? But the nobles, they don’t want no blasted female queenin’ it over un, so they’ve said no and gives the crown to Stephen, old Henry’s nephew.’

He looked sternly into the standing congregation. ‘Got that now, Bert, have you? Good. Well now, Matilda, she ain’t best pleased with bein’ passed over and seems she’s brought a army as is a-fighting Stephen’s army out there some’eres.’

‘That it?’ Nyles wanted to know.

‘Enough, innit?’ Sala was miffed that Nyles, the big man of the village because he owned more sheep than anybody else, hadn’t been more receptive to the news. ‘I been tellin’ you as there’s a war goin’ on out there.’

Nyles shrugged. ‘Allus is.’

‘Excitin’, though, Pa, ain’t it?’ asked eleven-year-old Em, looking up at him. Nyles cuffed his daughter lightly about her red head for her forwardness in speaking in church. She was his favourite, but it didn’t do to let females get out of hand, especially not this one. ‘Well, good luck to ’em, I say. And now let’s get on with that ditchin’ and bloody molin’.’

But Old Sala, irritated by the interruption, raised his hand. ‘I’ll tell you summat else, Nyles. And you’ll want to listen this time. Want to be keeping a close eye on that one, you will,’ he said, pointing at Em. ‘Folk say as there’s a band o’ mercenaries riding round ’ere like the wild hunt and with ’em there’s a monk; likes red-heads, he does.

Does terrible things when ’e finds ’em too.’ Nyles shook his head indulgently and turned towards
the door. He knew Old Sala with his scaremongering and preposterous tales of abroad and yet he suddenly felt in – explicably chilly and, without realizing it, had reached out and drawn the child closer to him. Daft old bugger.

‘That it then, Sala?’ he asked. The old man looked deflated but nodded and with that the men, women and children of Scutney trooped out of its church to continue their own, unceasing war – against water.

The North Sea, that great enemy, was always threatening to drown East Anglia in one of its rages, submerging fields and cattle, even lapping the just-above-sea-level islands that dotted the flattest land in England. In winter, the sluggish rivers and great drains had to be cleared of weed or they clogged and overflowed.

Oh, and the mole, as big an enemy as the sea, had to be killed to stop the little bugger from weakening the dykes with his bloody tunnels.

No, the people of Scutney didn’t have time from their watery business to bother about wars between the danged nobles. Anyway, they were safe because just over there – over there, bor, see them towers in the distance? – was Ely, greatest cathedral in England.

Every year, the villagers had to deliver four thousand glistening, squirming eels to Ely in return for being protected by St Etheldreda, whose bones lay in a jewelled tomb within the cathedral walls.
Powerful saint, Etheldreda, an Anglo-Saxon like themselves, and although Scutney people resented the number of eels they had to catch in order to feed her monks, they were grateful to her for keeping them safe from the outside world with its battles and carryings-on.

Oh yes, any bugger who came a-trampling and a-killing in this part of the fens ’d soon have his arse kicked out of it by good old St Ethel. That’s if the bugger could find Scutney in the first place and didn’t drown in the meres or get led astray by spirits of the dead who took the shape of flickering Jack-o’- Lantern flames in the marshes by night.

Folk allus said that for an enemy force to attack Ely it’d take a traitor to show the secret causeways leading to it. And who’d be so dang-blasted stupid as to betray St Etheldreda? Get sent straight to Hell, he would. Such was the attitude.

But a traitor was even now preparing his treachery, and the war was about to penetrate Scutney’s fenland for all that St Etheldreda in her 500-year-old grave could do about it.

The first the village knew of its fate was when soldiers sent by Hugh Bigod turned up to take its men away to build him a new castle.

‘Bigod?’ roared Nyles, struggling between two captors while his red-headed elder daughter batted at their legs with a frying pan. ‘We don’t owe him nothing. We’re Ely’s men.’

Hugh Bigod, newly Earl of Norfolk, owned a large proportion of East Anglia. The Scutney villagers had seen him in his fine clothes swanking it at Ely with their bishop during Christmas feasts and suchlike. Didn’t like him much. But then, they didn’t like anybody from Norfolk. Didn’t like the next village across the marshes, come to that.

Nor was he their overlord, as was being energetically pointed out to his soldiers. ‘Tha’s not law, bor. We ain’t none of his. What’s he want another castle for? He’ve got plenty.’

‘And now he do want another one,’ the soldiers’ sergeant said, ‘in case Empress Matilda do attack un. There’s a war on, bor.’

‘Ain’t my war,’ Nyles told him, still struggling.

‘Is now,’ the sergeant said, ‘and if them nippers of yourn don’t cease bashing my legs, they’ll be its next bloody casualties.’

For Em had now been joined by her younger sister, Gyltha, wielding an iron spit.

‘Leave it,’ Nyles told his girls. But they wouldn’t, and their mother had to drag them off. Holding them tightly, Aenfled watched her husband and every other able-bodied man being marched off along the roddon that led eventually to Cambridge.

‘Us’ll be back, girl,’ Nyles shouted at her over his shoulder, ‘but get they sheep folded, an’ don’t ’ee sell our hay for a penny under thruppence a stook, an’ look to that danged roof afore winter’s out, and . . .’ He had suddenly remembered Old Sala’s warning in the church. ‘Keep Em close . . .’ And then he was too far away to be heard.

The women of Scutney stood where they were, their men’s instructions becoming fainter and fainter until only an echo came sighing back to them and even that faded so that the air held merely the frightened bawling of their babies and the call of geese flying overhead.

They didn’t cry; fenwomen never wept.

The men still hadn’t come back by the beginning of Lent.

It was a hard winter, that one. Birds dropped out of the air, killed by the cold. The rivers froze and dead fish could be seen enclosed in their ice. The old died in their huts; the sheep in their pens.

In the turbaries, spades dulled themselves on peat that had become as hard as iron, so that fuel became scarce and it was necessary for tired, overworked women and their families to venture further and further away from the village in order to retrieve the peat bricks that had been stacked a year before to provide fire for shepherds during the lambing season.

On St Valentine’s Day, it was the turn of Aenfled and her children to trundle a barrow into the marsh to fetch fuel. They’d left nothing behind in the woolly line and the thickness of their wrappings made them look like disparately sized grey statues perambulating through a grey landscape. Their breath soaked into the scarves round their mouths and turned to ice, but a veil of mist in the air promised that the weather might, just might, be on the turn. The children all carried bows and arrows in case a duck or goose flew within range.

Tucked into Em’s belt was a little carved wooden key that Durwyn, Brother Arth’s son, had shyly and secretly shoved into her hand that morning. Gyltha wouldn’t leave the subject alone. ‘Wants to
unlock your heart, he do. You got to wed un now.’

‘Sod that,’ Em said. ‘I ain’t never getting married and certainly not to a saphead like Durwyn. Anyways, I ain’t old enough an’ he ain’t rich enough.’

‘You kept his old key, though.’

‘Tha’ll be on the fire tonight,’ Em promised her. ‘Keep us warm.’

They stopped; they’d felt the drumming of hoofbeats through their boots. Horsemen were cantering along the causeway behind them.

‘Get into they bloody reeds,’ hissed Aenfled. She pushed her barrow over the causeway’s edge and tumbled her children after it.

Horses were rare in the fenland, and those travelling at speed suggested their riders were up to no good. Maybe these were friendly, maybe not, but lately there’d been nasty rumours of villages sacked by demons, women raped – sometimes even murdered – and grain stores burned. Aenfled was taking no chances.

There was just time to squirm through the reeds to where the thick, bare fronds of a willow gave them some cover.

Her hand clasped firmly over the mouth of her younger daughter, not yet old enough to be silenced with a look, Aenfled prayed: Sweet Mary, let un go past, go past.

Go past, go past, urged Em, make un go past. Through the lattice of reeds above her head, she saw flicks of earth being thrown up as the leading horses went by. She bowed her head in gratitude. Thank ’ee, St Ethel, thank ’ee, I’ll never be wicked no more.

But one of the middle riders pulled up. ‘Swear as I saw something dive into that bloody ditch.’
‘Deer?’ One of the leaders stopped abruptly and turned his horse back. As he approached the wind picked up,lifting his robes and revealing the animal’s flanks, which were lathered white with sweat and dripping blood from a set of vicious-looking spurs.

Keeping still as still, Em smelled the stink of the men above her: sweat, dirt, horses, blood and a strange, pungent odour that was foreign to her.

‘Could ’a’ been.’

‘Flush the bastard out then. What are you waiting for?’

Spears began thudding into the ditch. One of the men dismounted and started scrambling down, hallooing as he went.

Em knew they were done for. Then her mouth set itself into the thin, determined line that her sorely tried mother would have recognized and dreaded. No we ain’t. Not if I lead ’em away. She pushed her sister’s head more firmly into the ground and leaped for the bank. A willow twig twitched the cap from her head as she went, releasing the flame-red curls it hid beneath but, although she paused briefly, she didn’t stop for it. Now she was running.

Aenfled kept Gyltha clutched to her, her moans and prayers covered by the whoops of the men. She heard the one who’d come into the ditch climb back out of it and join the hunt. She heard hoofbeats start up again. She heard male laughter growing fainter as the riders chased their prey further and further into the marsh. She heard the far-away screams as they caught Em, and knew her daughter was fighting. She heard the horses ride off with her.

Birds of the marsh that had flown up in alarm settled back into their reed beds and resumed their silence.

In the ditch Aenfled stopped praying.

Except for her daughter’s soul, she never prayed again.

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February 18

Losing It – Helen Lederer

Millie was at one time quite well known for various TV and radio appearances. However, she now has no money, a best friend with a better sex life than her, a daughter in Papua New Guinea and too much weight in places she really doesn’t want it.

When she’s asked to be the front woman for a new diet pill, she naively believes that all her troubles will be solved. She will have money, the weight will be gone, and maybe she’ll get more sex.

If only life was really that easy. It doesn’t take her long to realize it’s going to take more than a diet pill to solve her never-ending woes . . .

Thanks to Emma at Busy Bee for my review copy

Losing it is a big departure from my normal type of read, however, I am happy to jump to a new genre if there is a compelling reason. In this case the chance to read a novel by Helen Lederer (of whom I have been a fan since the Naked Video days) is more than enough reason for me to risk a book that will not have a murder or two (probably).

Fortunately the quirky humour I was expecting to find is there in abundance and I enjoyed the change of pace that this book presented – a story with fun at heart. Losing It was an engaging read and the awkward/hapless heroine, Millie, is a likeable character to follow.

When I was half way through Losing It I read an interview with the author in which she described her novel as ‘mid-lit’ – loved that phrase! Millie is not the ditzy thirty-something I had initially expected but a more mature 50 something with a grown-up daughter and a best friend with an overactive sezual appetite – or so the more prudent Millie believes. One of the high points of the book was Millie’s ‘tricky’ relationship with her daughter, exacerbated by the fact her daughter is in Papau New Guinea and many of their conversations need to be conducted via Skype.

Some of Millie’s conversations with her daughter (and in particular around the research that her daughter is conducting in Papau New Guinea) are screamingly cringe worthy. I really felt that Helen Lederer nailed a cross-generation dialogue where Millie is really not comfortable with the more open (and modern) outlook her daughter has.

Millie is deeply in debt and struggling to make ends meet, yet she is offered a chance at a lucrative payday when she is asked to front a campaign for a new diet pill. All she has to do to receive a handsome payout is stick to a diet, achieve a target weight and she will receive the money she needs to clear off her loans. What could be simpler?

I suspect that many of us can sympathise with the problems that are faced when weight loss is required. Indeed, as a Scottish bloke in his middling years I generally refer to my own physique as ‘sturdy.’ I share her weight-loss pain and laugh along with her ability to rationalise chocolate consumption.

Millie’s battle to shift the pounds and resist the Toblerone is full of frequent pitfalls and Helen Lederer delivers laughs a-plenty as we follow Millie from throws of despair to her weight loss highs. Millie’s support network of friends and family are a joy to read about too. Often brutally honest in their observations they can be seen dragging Millie to feng shui guru’s, colonic irrigation clinics and support meetings: each of which they genuinely believe will be of some assistance.

As I have previously mentioned, Losing It is not my normal bookish escape. However, I enjoyed the change of pace that it offered, it made me laugh aloud on several occasions and I have had 4 or 5 work colleagues ask to borrow my copy when I am done as they really like the sound of it too! All positives – this is definitely a book worthy of your attention.

Losing It is published by Pan and is available now in Paperback and online in digital format.

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February 18

Winter Siege – Ariana Franklin

It’s 1141 and freezing cold.

Gwil, a battle-hardened mercenary, is horrified to stumble across a little girl close to death. She has been attacked, just one more victim in a winter of atrocities. Clutching a sliver of parchment, she is terrified – but Gwil knows what he must do. He will bring her back to life. He will train her to fight. And together, they will hunt down the man who did this to her.

But danger looms wherever they turn. As castle after castle falls victim to siege, the icy Fens ring with rumours of a madman, of murder – and of a small piece of parchment with a terrible secret to tell, the cost of which none of them could have imagined…

I tend not to read too many historical novels, however, if they were all as good as Winter Siege then it could easily become my favourite genre. I loved this book and became totally caught up within the story as I was transported back to the 12^th Century and the days of knights and castles.

We follow the story of Gwil, a mercenary who is an accomplished archer. He has been abandoned by his paymasters but he was already wearying of their company as their actions had not been in line with Gwil’s own moral code.

Gwil finds the shattered body of a young girl, she has been savagely attacked and left for dead yet her will to survive drags her back to life. With no memory of her attack nor of her life before the incident she travels with Gwil as he avows to himself (and his God) that he will avenge her attack.

At heart Winter Siege is a story of the friendship between Gwil and Penda (Gwil renames her after her attack). Yet the story plays against the backdrop of King Stephen’s attempts to repel his cousin (the Empress Matilda) as she tries to wrest control of the English Throne from him.

The siege in the title takes place at Kenniford Castle in Oxfordshire. The castle is a strategic stronghold and the home of Maud who, when we first meet her, is being married against her will to a prominent knight. This rushed and unwelcome marriage is to secure a political alliance that will protect both her and Kenniford from King Stephen and show allegiance to Matilda.

As the events in Winter Siege unfold we find Gwil and Penda arrive at Kenniford and the stories of our key players become entwined. This is very much a tale of people, friendships, politics and war. Ariana Franklin tells the story with an easy readable style. The characters are jumping from the page as they are expertly realised and it is impossible not to get caught up in Gwil’s quest to avenge Penda’s attack.

I tend to avoid historical novels as they become too caught up in the politics or the period at the cost of keeping the story flowing. Winter Siege stuck the perfect balance between background and story. There are not too many earls, dukes, knights and knaves that could confuse a casual reader – just a focus on telling a tale which will entertain and enjoy.

Fans of historical drama are in for a treat, fans of a good story this is for you too. Review score of 4/5 from a genre I tend not to read should reflect how much I enjoyed this story – I actually wish the book had been longer but all good things must end.

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February 13

Follow The Leader – Mel Sherratt

A man’s body is found on a canal towpath. In his pocket, a magnetic letter in the shape of an E.

Days later, a second victim is found, this time with the letter V tucked into her clothing.

As the body count rises, the eerie, childlike clues point to a pattern that sends DS Allie Shenton and her colleagues into full alert.

The race is on. Allie and the team must work quickly to determine where the killer will strike next. The rules are simple but deadly—to catch the killer, they must follow the leader.

From the acclaimed author of Taunting the Dead comes a flesh-creeping tale of a child’s game with a terrifying, grown-up twist. This is the second book in the DS Allie Shenton series but can be enjoyed as a stand-alone story.

My review copy was provided through Netgalley.

When I lurk around Twitter I look to see what other book bloggers are reading. Every now and then you find that one book will dominate the chat or one author will grab the spotlight. However, over a period of several months I noticed that Mel Sherratt’s name cropped up frequently and always positively. A little more investigation revealed that the bloggers I engage with most frequently have been reading and enjoying the Allie Shenton books – it was time for me to catch up.

Having been let down by the ‘buzz’ surrounding one or two high profile novels in 2014 I was delighted to find that Follow The Leader fully justified the positivity from the blogging community – I was hooked by a brilliant story.

As the intro explains, this is the second book in the DS Shenton series. Obviously, I have not read the first book and I generally try to avoid jumping into a series when I know there are earlier volumes to read. I was pleased to find that there were no continuity problems which could have impaired my enjoyment of Follow The Leader – everything I needed to know was deftly dropped into the plot without the feeling I was reading the “recap chapter.”

Follow The Leader was a great read – Shenton is a likeable central character, seemingly fighting a losing battle to maintain a work/life balance. She finds herself embroiled in a murder investigation where it appears that a killer that is specifically targeting former pupils of her old high school. It is clear to Shenton and the investigating team that the murders are linked as the killer is leaving a magnetic plastic letter at the scene of each crime.

What I particularly liked about Follow The Leader (as I also noted when I recently reviewed Karen Long’s The Vault) was that the reader gets to see who the murderer is quite early in the story. This means that we can keep tabs on the investigation while also having the benefit of discovering who the next victim will be – usually before they become a victim! I refer to this as the Columbo effect (my reading preferences clearly shaped by Peter Falk).

Follow The Leader keeps a good pace throughout and there were plenty of action points and surprises that kept me reading well into the wee small hours. There is a clear sign of an ongoing story which began in book 1 (Taunting The Dead), flows through Follow and looks likely to spin on into book 3. A nice way to ensure I will definitely return to see how Allie Shenton copes with what seems to be coming her way.

In short: great fun, well written and held my attention throughout with the added bonus of a cliffhanger that will make me a guaranteed reader of the next book. Everything I want from my crime thrillers so a review score of five out of five seems to be in order. Highly recommended.

You can follow Mel Sherratt on Twitter @writermels Follow The Leader and Taunting The Dead are available now…go get them!

One last update – just before I posted my review of Follow The Leader I discovered that the next Allie Shenton book, Only The Brave, is due for release on 26^th May. Already excited for that!

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February 12

The Raven’s Head – Karen Maitland

Vincent is an apprentice librarian who stumbles upon a secret powerful enough to destroy his master. With the foolish arrogance of youth, he attempts blackmail but the attempt fails and Vincent finds himself on the run and in possession of an intricately carved silver raven’s head.

Any attempt to sell the head fails … until Vincent tries to palm it off on the intimidating Lord Sylvain – unbeknown to Vincent, a powerful Alchemist with an all-consuming quest. Once more Vincent’s life is in danger because Sylvain and his neighbours, the menacing White Canons, consider him a predestined sacrifice in their shocking experiment.

Thanks to Headline for my Netgalley review copy

The Raven’s Head started out with real promise. I loved reading about Vincent, the apprentice Librarian, who suffered the wrath of an irritable master day upon day. Vincent lived in a small book book-filled world and the times he got to venture further into his master’s kingdom, in and around the castle and grounds were great fun to read. Vincent had an outsider’s view of his community and Karen Maitland used this remoteness to expertly set up our view of the world.

The story does not just focus on Vincent though and we are soon introduced to Gisa, a young girl who works under her uncle as an apothecary. Gisa is more adept at her craft than she lets on to her uncle and is rapidly absorbing the skills of trade. This skill is noticed by the fearsome Alchemist, Lord Sylvian, who requests Gisa’s presence at his home to assist with some very specific tasks he has to undertake.

Finally we meet the sinister White Canons, a religious group who are mentoring young boys to follow the path of God’s wisdom. The boys live to a strict religious regime and learn their bible by rote and fear. A greater terror, however, is the possibility of a calling to assist with strange night-time ‘experiments’ run by senior members of the White Canons from which some boys do not return.

As you may expect from tale which concentrates on three different storylines, there comes a point when the plots start to converge. The deeper into the story that we progress the greater the influence of ‘magic’ or ‘mysticism’ on the plot. The eventual reveal of Sylvian’s master plan was unexpected and horrifying – great build up from Karen Maitland with a satisfying delivery that is sure to captivate readers.

From a personal perspective, however, I think I ruined The Raven’s Head for myself. Halfway through the book I lost a little focus, the White Canon’s were not holding my attention and Vincent was annoying me. I put the book to the side and did not return to it for a couple of weeks. Although I was able to pick up the story without problem (and I loved the build-up and delivery of the finale) I just felt that my enjoyment suffered during that two week reading break.

I do still believe that this is a good story and I have picked up a second Karen Maitland book since finishing The Raven’s Head as I like her writing. I just don’t think The Raven’s Head arrived at the right time for me – stick with it and you will get a story that is well worth reading.

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February 10

Holy Cow – David Duchovny

Elsie Bovary is a cow and a pretty happy one at that. Until one night, Elsie sneaks out of the pasture and finds herself drawn to the farmhouse. Through the window, she sees the farmer’s family gathered around a bright Box God – and what the Box God reveals about something called an ‘industrial meat farm’ shakes Elsie’s understanding of her world to its core.

The only solution? To escape to a better, safer world. And so a motley crew is formed: Elsie; Shalom, a grumpy pig who’s recently converted to Judaism; and Tom, a suave turkey who can’t fly, but can work an iPhone with his beak. Toting stolen passports and slapdash human disguises, they head for the airport …

Elsie is a wise-cracking, slyly witty narrator; Tom dispenses psychiatric advice in a fake German accent; and Shalom ends up unexpectedly uniting Israelis and Palestinians. David Duchovny’s charismatic creatures point the way toward a mutual understanding and acceptance the world desperately needs.

Thanks to Elizabeth Masters at Headline for my review copy – a Bookbridgr request.

Read the book description above? Thinking ‘That sounds bonkers’? You are pretty much there. This is not in any way a book to take seriously (obviously), nor is it going to take you long to work your way through. But what you will get is an entertaining and (probably) unique comedy adventure.

David Duchovny treats us to some wonderful one-liners, comedy set pieces and some astute observations on modern day life – all seen through the eyes of a cow, pig and turkey.

The book is short and the review will need to be too – seek this out if you like your comedy to be zany, offbeat and downright bizarre. I can see this being an ideal book to give to a friend or loved one as a gift as it looks distinctive and fun. However, if you DID decide to gift this book, treat yourself and read it first!

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February 8

The Invisible Library – Genevieve Cogman

Irene must be at the top of her game or she’ll be off the case – permanently…

Irene is a professional spy for the mysterious Library, which harvests fiction from different realities. And along with her enigmatic assistant Kai, she’s posted to an alternative London. Their mission – to retrieve a dangerous book. But when they arrive, it’s already been stolen. London’s underground factions seem prepared to fight to the very death to find her book.

Adding to the jeopardy, this world is chaos-infested – the laws of nature bent to allow supernatural creatures and unpredictable magic. Irene’s new assistant is also hiding secrets of his own.

Soon, she’s up to her eyebrows in a heady mix of danger, clues and secret societies. Yet failure is not an option – the nature of reality itself is at stake.

Thanks to Tor books for my Netgalley copy for review.

I don’t know if Genevieve Cogman has plans to revisit The Invisible Library but I hope that she does! I loved the mysterious world that she has given us a glance into, a Library which spans space and dimensions and can open into any world to allow Librarians to collect rare and powerful books.

Anyone who has ever coveted a book will instantly connect with the concept of The Library. If you could step through a door to get an ARC of the first Harry Potter book, or visit Shakespeare and have your copy of Taming of the Shrew signed how could you resist?

Genevieve Cogman introduces Irene, an operative for the Library who is tasked with recovering specific titles from various dimensions and realities for the higher powers within the Library. Irene is resourceful, feisty and thoroughly delightful to accompany on an adventure. We first meet her at the conclusion of a mission and we get a glimpse of her skills and abilities as she escapes capture when her attempts to retrieve a rare volume do not go as smoothly as planned.

At the conclusion of her mission Irene returns to the Library and we first get a taste of this mysterious world. All too soon, however, a new mission is set and Irene travels to a version of London which is quite unlike our own world. Cogman does a fabulous job of merging the reality as we know it yet blending in Faery magic, vampires and Werewolves and also sets a new political power making the dynamics of the city we know so well appear in a very unnatural context.

Adding to the fun of the story is Irene’s partnership with her mysterious trainee, Kai. We have a nemesis for Irene too in the form of rival operative Brandamant – the scenes where they meet were high points in the story for me and the ‘catty’ tension was splendidly scripted. In addition to the personal nemesis was enemy of the Library: Alberich. His presence in the world Irene is operating is an unwelcome shock and adds a new element of danger. Alberich’s name is infamous within the Library and there is even doubt he actually exists – such is the extent of his nefarious reputation.

This is a fantastic fantasy story, and offers so much potential for further expansion. More books would be very welcome and (as I noted previously) I sincerely hope that Genevieve Cogman is going to revisit this world.

So in brief – great fun, humorous, frequently unexpected and leaves me wanting more. Definitely one for the lover of fantasy novels but a very strong 4/5 from this reviewer.

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February 6

The Vault Blog Tour – Karen Long Q&A

Karen Long was born and raised in the English midlands, educated at Bangor University and taught English and Drama for fifteen years. During her teaching years she studied biology and neurology with the Open University and this interest in medicine, forensics and forensic psychology is reflected in her writing. She is an enthusiastic traveller and has spent time in Toronto, which became the backdrop and inspiration for (debut novel) The Safe Word.

She is a keen amateur naturalist with a deep and abiding love for the crow family. She has dedicated time, love and several fingers in an effort to rehabilitate crows, magpies, rooks and ravens.

Karen is happy to correspond with readers and can be contacted through her website KarenLongWriter.com, where she posts regular blogs.

Karen has very kindly agreed to round off her blog tour for The Vault by taking part in a small Q&A session. Having read the above author biography there were a couple of things mentioned that piqued my curiosity. I would not normally open a post with a biography, however, some of my questions will make a bit more sense if you are armed with the same facts that I had!

With this in mind my opening gambit was to ask if Karen could bring us up to speed:

Eleanor Raven is introduced in The Safe Word. While I was able to read and enjoy The Vault without having read The Safe Word, there are clearly elements of the first story still impacting upon Eleanor at the start of The Vault. Can you briefly set the scene?

The Safe Word is set six months earlier. When murder victims begin to appear in the city, presented as macabre artistic installations, it’s Eleanor Raven’s job to get inside the killer’s head and understand his motivations and message. This journey takes her into the dark heart of Toronto’s BDSM scene; a world she is no stranger to. It’s her need for dangerous sexual encounters that lead her to the killer’s studio, where she is to become his final masterpiece. Surviving this encounter has left her with physical and mental scars, which are affecting her relationships, self-control and ultimately her ability to do her job.

I enjoyed the squad-room scenes in The Vault and there seems a good team dynamic between Eleanor and her colleagues (though relations are strained in one area). Do you consider Eleanor to be a rebellious element within the squad or is she misunderstood, perhaps due to her intellect and her ability to think ‘outside the box’?

Eleanor is less a rebel and more of a maverick. She’s not out to overthrow, rather her thoughts and actions keep her on the periphery of the establishment. Her colleagues see her as being uniquely able to see the hidden connections and truths behind events but like Cassandra, she lacks the social skills that would allow her to convince those she needs to. Everyone is very supportive and respectful of her insight and methods but she is her own worst enemy, on so many levels. I think all truly good fictional detectives are pariahs of some flavour.

Raven is pitting her wits against an adversary she dubs The Collector and through the book we follow the progress of her investigation. The reader gets to know who The Collector is and we follow his story as he tries to juggle his crimes with his day-to-day routine. Which did you have most fun writing – the investigation or the criminal activities? And which was easier to write?

Constructing a criminal mind and letting their actions weave a story plot is fabulous fun. The psychopaths I write about in my novels have very clear ideas on love, integrity and, in particular, family. What they lack, but don’t recognise or acknowledge, is the ability to empathise with any other living being, other than themselves. For me that is a truly terrifying concept and just playing around with those sort of thought process, can make you feel very uncomfortable. But writing characters that lack moral structure can only entertain on a very superficial level. What I really enjoy is how the behaviour of one individual shapes the mind of another. Eleanor constantly battles the damage wrought on her psyche by the destruction created by the killers she hunts. It is that investigation which is the most satisfying to write. Creating and analysing the uniqueness of a character’s mind that ultimately sheds light on one’s own.

As I carefully try to avoid plot spoilers…there are detailed discussions on the decomposition of a corpse and ways that this process could be slowed. Do you enlist specialist advice when writing about technical processes or do you fall back on personal research?

I saw Gunther von Hagan’s ‘Bodyworlds’ exhibition twice and was bowled over by the beauty and complexity of the human form. Part of the pleasure was reading as much as I could on how it was achieved. I have always been fascinated by decomposition and autopsy and had been following the work at Dundee University being championed by a collective of crime writers, particularly Val McDermid, on developing a new form of post-mortem preservation that keeps the body soft and retains natural colours. I had long conversations with Practitioners and although I have seen postmortems I was not granted permission to witness an embalming. So, I would say that all the science I write about is researched as thoroughly as I can, however I’m not writing a scientific paper and do have to blur the edges and take artistic licence sometimes.

I have asked this question in the past of other crime authors but everyone has a different opinion: Why do you think that we all seem to enjoy reading about serial killers?

It is one of the defining aspects of the conscious mind that we seek to understand the mind of another. Have you not said to a loved one, “What are you thinking?”, “Penny for them?” or you see the personality and empathy in a pet? We look for the similarities and fear the differences. A great white shark is more terrifying than an orca, both are apex predators, roughly the same weight but we feel less threatened by the orca (count the ratio of shark to orca documentaries on the Discovery channel). It looks back at us with an intelligence and complexity of purpose that we believe we can understand. It’s more like than unlike us. The unconscious mind is terrifying; simple motor responses that can’t be tempered or reversed by logic, emotion or negotiation leave us vulnerable and afraid. Those atavistic fears, tamped down by collective intelligence and analysis need an airing if we are to survive. What better way to practise than from the safety of your own living room, protected by hearth, locks and a telephone. When we confront the serial killer in the safety of our imaginations, we look into the shark’s mind. It is a lesson in survival that dares us to look into a mind devoid of reason.

You are a resident of Shropshire, yet your novels are set in Toronto. May we assume that you have enjoyed spending some time in Canada?

I did spend some but not enough, time in Toronto. I loved it! It’s liberal, eclectic and full of contradictions and because I was on a film set at the time I had the opportunity to visit some of the less touristy area. All of the specific ‘event’ locations in my novels have been visited and investigated, including the seedy nightclubs! I live on the periphery of a very small rural village, lacking either a shop or pub, I don’t think we have enough residents here to inspire a ‘Miss Marple’

Does a Canadian setting allow greater flexibility for story lines and plot devices than you would have with an English based character?

Absolutely! I have a tendency to get bogged down by the details both logistical and scientific. It’s very liberating to take a flavour of a place and then mould it to accommodate your storyline. I would spend most of my writing hours driving around, seeing if a scene were possible, if I set my novels here. My productivity is poor to abysmal at best, so I’m grateful to be using my memories and Google maps to get it written.

We have Eleanor Raven and your author biography makes frequent references to crows: how do crows and ravens come to play such a significant part of your life?

I am obsessed with corvids. They are smart, deliciously mean and bad tempered. I think my first encounter was as a child listening to ‘Arabel’s Raven’ read by Bernard Cribbins on Jackanory. So, when I had an opportunity to save one, I jumped at it and on it. Mortimer filled my house with cunning plots, malicious intent and bird shit and I loved it. Since then I’ve kept ravens, rooks, magpies and crows. For me they are ‘other’, I can understand their motivations to an extent but have no comprehension of what it’s like to ‘be’ them. Perhaps that’s how I see Eleanor, an otherness, like a person but ultimately a construct of my own imagination.

Are you currently working on the next outing for Eleanor Raven or have you plans to change focus?

I’m working on book three called, ‘The Cold Room’ and hope to have a five book series before trying something different.

When do you find time for writing? Are you a night owl or do you need to put aside time through the day?

Unfortunately, due to a love of reading and wine consumption I am very much a daytime writer. My youngest daughter is at school during the day, which means I can think, write and not have to jump to the dulcet sound of ‘Mom!’ every ten minutes.

If we were to sneak a peek at your bookshelves what could we expect to see?

Forensics, science, novels (mainly crime fiction and classics no sci fi), text books and I love photography collections.

To prove this Karen has also sent me pictures of her bookcases (they are distressingly clutter free).

My most sincere thanks to Karen Long for her time and assistance making this leg of her Blog Tour possible. I would also like to extend my thanks to @crimebookclub for the behind the scenes magic.

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February 6

The Vault – Karen Long

VAULT: A large room or chamber used for storage of valuables, especially an underground one…

In the unrelenting heat of the Toronto summer, a fire at a land-fill site uncovers the remains of a local prostitute. But the post-mortem reveals disturbing details –the body has been preserved and is not who or what it seems.

DI Eleanor Raven is back on duty six months after barely surviving being kidnapped and tortured by a depraved serial killer. Work is her sanctuary but she’s carrying deep scars – mental as well as physical. Where do you go when the place you feel safest is also the place where you are most at risk?
As Eleanor battles her own demons, it looks as though a killer in the city is making a gruesome human collection. And Eleanor’s fight to save the last victim of the Collector becomes a battle to save herself.

My thanks to Karen and @crimebookclub for my review copy

If you seek out crime novels which are described as ‘dark and disturbing’ then you are in for a treat with Karen Long’s The Vault. Even for a seasoned crime reader, such as myself, there are some decidedly uncomfortable elements to this story which make it stand out as a memorable read.

The Vault features a second outing for DI Eleanor Raven following her debut in Long’s previous novel The Safe Word. Raven is returning to work after a prolonged leave of absence – she had been recuperating from an horrific attack (as depicted in The Safe Word). Her return to duties are seemingly arriving earlier than she may be ready for and there are signs that Raven is not yet fit to resume her role.

Having not read The Safe Word before starting The Vault I wondered if I may have missed key plot points which may explain Raven’s ‘awkward’ return to duties, however, everything I needed to know was addressed in full so I did not feel disadvantaged by skipping book 1. Karen Long does a great job of teasing out the underlying issues surrounding Raven’s fragile state and we are left in no doubt that Eleanor Raven is a wonderfully complex character.

The Vault opens in the less than glamorous setting of a Toronto landfill site. A fire has ravaged an area of the city dump and firefighters uncover skeletal human remains, however, the remains they found are positioned in a very unnatural pose and there can be no question that this is the body of someone who dead before the fire started. Raven is called to the scene to investigate.

Soon we are crossing paths with prostitutes, undertakers, morticians and an extremely disturbed killer that Raven dubs the Collector. The driving motivation behind the Collector is….not nice (and redacted due to spoilers). However, what I very much enjoyed was that the story follows the Collector as well as the investigating team. As a reader we get to see both sides of the story and get an insight into how the criminal conducts himself when he is trying to get on with everyday life and, more alarmingly, how he may identify a potential victim.

I am sure that The Vault will be one that sticks with me for some time. The crimes are morbidly memorable, the central character is damaged and has a dangerous penchant for deviant sexual encounters and I found the book kept me hooked – which is all I want from my crime novels.

My benchmark for shocking crime has always been the works of Michael Slade. Slade has described many nasty and unpleasant deaths yet within his stories the murders are usually sudden and shocking. Karen Long may just have laid down a new standard: a whole novel that made me uncomfortable as I read. (By odd coincidence both Michael Slade and Karen long base their stories in Canada – I may revise my list of potential holiday destinations).

I found The Vault compelling reading. The central characters are well defined and (as I discovered in my Q&A with the author) they will return and be developed further. I liked that Long will take characters and concepts into unfamiliar places picking up on areas which may be considered taboo for some.

Although I missed Eleanor Raven’s debut in The Safe Word I will be rectifying this oversight in the very near future. I want to read more from this author and, specifically, I want to read another Eleanor Raven book. The Vault was sufficiently entertaining, memorable and creepy that I have to award it a review score of 5/5 – I didn’t want it to end.

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