Bloody entertaining

I always find it makes a book more interesting to read it at the same time of year that the story is set. So, when British author S.J. Bolton's latest thriller, Blood Harvest, came into our collection, it struck me that it takes place in a small English town in autumn, particularly around Halloween, and I grabbed it.

Blood Harvest is set in Heptonclough, a farming community which continues to hold onto its ancient and medieval traditions, specifically the local fall animal slaughter. This is when Harry Laycock, the new vicar, arrives and opens the old church, closed for almost ten years. Harry hears strange noises coming from the church, and witnesses some terrifying occurrences. Concurrently, the Fletcher family, also new to the area, has moved into their recently built house on the border of the graveyard. The three children, ten year old Tom, five year old Joe and toddler Millie are all aware of an unusual figure who moves stealthily through the graveyard, a figure with a penchant for imitating others' voices and giving Tom the willies by constantly watching him. Can this mysterious figure somehow be involved with the rash of deaths and disappearances of young girls in the last ten years? Are the disappearances one of the ongoing rituals of the community? And how does the abduction of one of the Fletcher children tie in with what's happening?

This is a spine-tingling, suspenseful novel that gripped me with its assortment of both intelligent and odd characters, chilling settings, and terrifying moments. It's a book I recommend you read with the blinds closed.

A worthy witchy read

Alys is a young woman in 16th century England who is at the centre of Philippa Gregory's The Wise Woman. The story opens with Alys awakening in the abbey where she has been living in comfort since her childhood. When the abbey becomes the nocturnal target of arson by supporters of Henry VIII, Alys flees back to Morach, the wise woman who helped raise her. Because of her training with Morach, Alys is called to the castle of the elderly Lord Hugh, who has been ill and presumed dying by his physicians. When Alys heals him, he insists she stay as one of the ladies to his daughter-in-law, Catherine. While in residence, Alys begins an affair with Catherine's husband, the young Hugh, which starts a tale of obsession, magic, and betrayal.

Actually, lots of betrayal. Alys is a master at it. She is quick to alter her allegiances if it means comfort, warmth, food and attention. She first betrays Morach, who gave her a home. Okay, a hovel, but she was fed by Morach, and taught herb-lore and midwifery, which helped Alys get to Lord Hugh. She quickly left Morach for the abbey, and Mother Hildebrande, for whom Alys appeared to have a deep and genuine love, but who she left to burn in her bed in order to quicken her own escape. She then betrays Morach again when she lets her take the blame for certain events that happen to Lady Catherine, who, after years of barrenness, finally appears pregnant, with Alys's help. She waffles with her affection for the young Hugh, sometimes believing herself in love with him, sometimes that she is using him for her own advancements. And when she has a chance to redeem herself regarding her faith and her abbey, she turns away from that too.

Alys is one of the most conniving, hideous and morally deprived characters I have ever come across in literature. She definitely earns the book's title, as her wisdom comes in two forms: herb-wisdom and the knowledge to think quickly on her feet to save her own skin. There were times I had pity for her; I'm not sure I wouldn't try to do the same things (well, not all of the same things) if I were filthy and cold and had had a taste of the good life. But deep down, I was revolted by Alys and her actions. Does this make for a bad book? No. And, when she has a chance to clean her conscience, I was interested in how Gregory would end the book. Was it an ending I found satisfying? I know my opinion, but try it out for yourself.

I often re-read my old favourite books, but it's never happened that I was ready to re-read a book I had just finished, until I read Kate Morton's The Forgotten Garden. The book is an intriguing and fascinating interweaving of several voices, several experiences, and several generations.

It opens with Nell, a four year old girl left on a boat bound for Australia by a beautiful young woman she know only as "The Authoress." Nell is told to hide and not come out until The Authoress returns for her. After several hours, the ship sets sail and Nell is still alone. Adopted by an at the time childless couple, Nell is told at her twenty first birthday party that she is not who she thinks she is. It is a statement that dramatically alters her personality and her life.

Seventy years later, Nell's granddaughter, Cassandra, takes up the search for Nell's biological family. Using her grandmother's diaries, and an old illustrated book of fairy tales by the mysterious Eliza Makepeace, Cassandra travels to England and the cottage she has inherited from Nell.

Interspersed between Nell's and Cassandra's stories are that of Eliza, her meager childhood which served for the basis of her vivid imagination, and subsequent move to an estate by the ocean. There, she is subject to her unloving and judgmental aunt, her unusual and disturbing uncle, and her frail cousin Rose. Despite her strict new upbringing, Eliza is too much of a free spirit to be hampered by her new living arrangement.

The storyline of The Forgotten Garden is itself like a fairytale, and its characters can follow the traditional 'good versus evil,' 'beauty versus ugliness' plots, but Morton offers enough insight their lives to keep them from becoming caricatures. And yes, sometimes I found the coincidences of chance meetings between characters a little too convenient, but because of the book's fae elements, they didn't bother me; I just accepted that unseen beings hiding in the forgotten garden were at play.

A group of friends are gathered for a relaxing afternoon barbeque at the suburban home of Hektor and Aisha. At some point, one of the guests slaps the young child of another couple. The party quickly ends, but the repercussions of that action continue into the near future in the aptly named The Slap by Australian author Christos Tsiolkas. Although the party is attended by an extensive group of people (almost too extensive to introduce in the opening pages), Tsiolkas narrows the personal stories to eight characters, some directly involved in the incident, and some only secondarily affected.

I found The Slap to be a gripping, compelling book, although I can't say I like the writer's crudeness (some parts I found uncomfortably so, particularly when he was speaking for the female characters). I also found the characters' personal morals almost non-existent; while many wear the sheen of being good, going beneath the surface reveals that they are far from it. I think I would have liked the book better if the characters' storylines had been intertwined rather than told in blocks of chapters.

What I did like was the result in their personal lives of this one quick act: everyone has an opinion about it. Some couples are able to support each other, some are violently opposed in opinion. Some are able to forgive and move on; others are mired in bitterness and revenge. Some agree that the child required discipline which his parents were not providing; others feel that an adult hitting a child is unjustified in all circumstances.

It was also interesting to find where my sympathies were directed in regards to the incident. In that respect, the book was an eye-opener. In other respects, it's a good, quick read with a meatier topic than my usual summer choices.

Delicious Fromage!

When I pulled it out of the box of newly delivered DVDs, I had never heard of the 2008 BBC series Bonekickers. From the writers of Life on Mars, Bonekickers, set at the fictional Wessex University, is a little bit Kathy Reichs, a little bit Indiana Jones, and a little bit Dan Brown.

Dr. Gillian Magwilde is the spitfire team leader who is afraid of nothing: risking poisonous gases, deep wells, and dark tunnels, she breaks the rules to get her answers. Her cockiness is balanced by the down-to-earth Ben Ergha, who challenges Gillian's quests for stupendous results and attempts to keep her focused and out of danger. Gregory Parton is a loquacious walking encyclopedia with a taste for women and spirits. Their team has newly added Vivian, a young intern who is the target for Gregory's attentions and Gillian's wrath, who has a quest of her own.

The episodes deal with disparate periods of history and characters: the Knights Templar, U.S. slaves, the Roman occupation of Britain, ancient Iraq, Joan of Arc and King Arthur, yet all the stories feature a common thread, an artifact that Gillian's mother spent her life looking for, and which led to her mental demise. The acting is excellent, and the plot lines intriguing. Unfortunately, the script, along with the editing, are bordering on dreadful. Does this make for a bad show? I will argue that it is quite the contrary.

While there are aspects of the show I didn't like (the shaky camera and unusual filming angles, the egotistical attitudes of some of the characters in their introductory scenes, the inconsistencies in Gillian's point of view from the importance non-traditional thinking in one episode to rejecting the same sentiment in Ben's theories in another, some totally cheesy lines and outlandish, convoluted storylines), curiously, as a whole, I liked it. While I prefer a slower character development, once I got over the initial shock of being thrown right into the series, I enjoyed the historic backgrounds of the show, the 'flashbacks,' and the settings. I was interested in the personal dynamics between the characters, and I even laughed at some of those cheesy lines, such as Gregory yelling at a gang of murderous thugs "Don't mess with me; I'm an archaeologist!"

Due to low ratings, the show only lasted the one season, about which I feel rather disappointed. While I felt Bonekickers took itself a bit too seriously sometimes, it was a good ride. I would have delighted in seeing them tackle and solve more long-standing archaeological mysteries, take on more baddies, and deliver, with a straight face, lines like "Right, bras off" (you'll just have to watch to find out).

Goodman = good writer!

I've written about Carol Goodman before. Perhaps it's obvious that I am a major fan of hers. I have become even more of one with her latest release, Arcadia Falls.

After setting her last two suspense novels in Europe, Goodman has returned to the northeast United States. Like The Seduction of Water and The Lake of Dead Languages, Arcadia Falls takes place in a boarding school, with a teacher finding her place in the world after tragedy strikes her life. Meg Rosenthal, a young widow, moves from the Southern U.S. with her teenage daughter, Sally, to teach folklore and english at Arcadia Falls, a former artists' colony. During an end of summer ritual, a student, Isabel, plunges to her death. Meg discovers how this parallels the death of a young woman artist several decades earlier, and the connection to Isabel's death. Meg embarks on a mystery of how the dean, Ivy St. Clare, ties into the two stories.

Filled with descriptions of dark, gloomy woods, eerie old houses, creepy fairy tales and eccentric characters, Arcadia Falls is a suspenseful romp that will keep readers up during the night. Just make sure you close the blinds and don't peek out the window!

House Rules rules

Virtually every spring, I can rely on several things: trees will bud, flowers will sprout, days will get longer and warmer, and a new Jodi Picoult novel will be released. I welcome them all.

Picoult's latest is House Rules, the story of single mum Emma Hunt raising two teenage sons. Jacob, the eldest, has Asperger's Syndrome, and an obsession with forensic science and crime scenes, while Theo has to try to survive and thrive in his older brother's shadow and always be second for Emma's attention. Disaster strikes when the death of someone close to the family lands Jacob under arrest for murder.

After over a dozen books, Picoult has developped a somewhat predictable format for her books: a woman, generally single, or with a second husband/boyfriend, has teen or pre-teen child(ren). One child has an often life threatening disease, and his/her siblings end up being marginalised, insecure, and often envious of the ill child. Throw in a father figure who, according to mum, does not and cannot fully understand and commit to the situation, and climax it all with a court scene dealing somehow with the situation. It's a formula that, with snappy dialogue, some sympathetic characters, some you want to punch in the face (figuratively, of course), and medical information on the affliction-in-question for the beginner, manages to continue to satisfy this reader.

And even more satisfying was the conclusion of House Rules. Not to give anything away, but it has a pleasing difference from many of Picoult's other books. Read it to find out.