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by Eve Silver One of the things I like about historical works is the pieces of detail that the author uses to bring you into the other time without saying "the year is 1823", or "in a time before electricity." Instead we find out that wax candles cost dear and tallow candles, while inexpensive, stink; people of all rank and position fear smallpox; theorists might understand how diseases are transmitted and doctors regularly have to choose between saving the mother or the babe during childbirth. No morphine. No penicillin. No Caesareans. These are the equivalent of our traffic accidents, terrorist attacks and intergalactic travel in the world of Emma Parrish and Manorbrier. Having been sent to live with dowager aunts after her mother died, Emma flees to Manorbrier when she is offered a position as a governess rather than be sold into a frightful marriage. There are rumors of evil surrounding the hall and the handsome Lord who creates death in the tower. Two governesses have died; one after severely whipping the young master. Did darling Nicky knock the other woman down the hole in the ice house? Will his father also send Emma out in a pine box, or will Anthony Craven simply reduce her to ashes with his smoldering eyes and lingering touch? An infectious corpse, a villainous lord and a swooning virgin; in the words of our heroine, "I do love a horrid novel." That would be a gothic romance to the 21st century-minded reader, and I expect you will enjoy this one as much as Emma and I did. |
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His Dark Kiss