Favourite #Books 2016 #amreviewing

I agree with J. L. Borges who imagined Paradise would be a kind of library. Fortunately, heaven is close at hand, since I carry part of my library wherever I go.

I’ve often told you that although writing is my passion, reading is the greater need. It’s where the real pleasure lies. On the other hand, writing is so devastatingly hard that it’s like T. S. Eliot said, ‘the purpose of literature is turning blood into ink.’

No wonder even writers prefer reading. Stephen King reminds us that books are  a uniquely portable magic, and that’s true especially nowadays with kindles and kindle apps on my mobile, tablet and PC. Time flies. I don’t even mind traffic jams or delays any more. I even look forward to them…

I’ve lost count, but I’m sure I’ve read well over fifty books this year. I’ve enjoyed most of them immensely and learned from all of them. As it’s the last day of 2016, I’ve decided to share with you my favourite books of 2016.

Talking about favourite books is a very personal and absolutely subjective opinion, as Lloyd Alexander reminds us,  ‘Our favorite book is always the book that speaks most directly to us at a particular stage in our lives. And our lives change.‘ Some books can be reread for the rest of our lives. We all have special books we constantly reread, some of mine are; Jane Eyre, Great Expectations, The Woman in White, Persuasion, The Forsyte Saga, and Rebecca.

This post is all about my favourite books, which I’ve read for the first time this year. Most, but not all, have actually been published this year.

As I’ve reviewed them all, I’m not going to say much more about them in this post, but I’m including a link to my review on amazon, which will also take you to the book itself.

Here they are in no particular order, except that my absolute favourite is last!

1- Favourite Christmas themed novel:

Three Days Before Christmas, a heartwarming novel, which I read on Christmas Eve.

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Link to my review of Three Days before Christmas

 

2- Favourite historical family drama:

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Link to my review of The Photographer’s Wife.

3- Favourite police procedural:

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Link to my review of The Girl in the Ice: 

 

4- Favourite suspense novel:

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Link to my review of  Cry Like a Girl

 

5- Favourite contemporary family drama:

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Link to my review of Under a Cornish Sky

 

6- Favourite thriller:

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Link to my review of I Let You Go 

 

7- Favourite murder mystery:

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Link to my review of Killer Pursuit 

 

8- Favourite contemporary drama:

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Link to my review of The Mistake I Made

 

9- Favourite erotic romance:

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Link to my review of True Colours

 

10- Favourite romance:

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Link to my review of Sustained

 

11- Overall Favourite Novel:

It was published in 2011, but I read it last summer. A magnificent Victorian novel.

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Link to my review of A Dangerous Fortune

 

One of the highlights of last year for me as a writer was that my novel was next to Ken Follett’s, just for a week (but I’m not complaining), in bestsellers for historical fiction. Here’s the proof!

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Finally, just a reminder to read lots of books, give books as presents, review the books you read, and spread the word. It’s an easy way to make the world a happier place!

 

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Gibran, Happiness, Christmas and #Amreading

 


Sorrow and happiness are two sides of the same coin. One cannot exist without the other.  In fact, when our life is all one or all the other we’re not being realistic or honest with ourselves. We’re either depressed or euphoric. In any case, we are living in an imaginary world.

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There’s not much we can do about it, except try to look at and accept the bigger picture. It doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy a beautiful moment or feel sad when a tragedy occurs. It means we need to accept that both are inseparable and complimentary.

For example watching my grandchildren open their Christmas presents is a joyous moment and watching them cry when they’re ill or upset is sorrowful, but both experiences are part of the same reality: love for my grandchildren. If I didn’t love them, I wouldn’t feel happy or sad for them. It’s a package; to enjoy one we need to accept the other.

The former was a simple example, unfortunately, sometimes it’s not so easy to see, understand, or make the connection and we imagine the bad or good feelings are singular, so they will last forever, well, they won’t. We really need to come to terms with this idea, or we can get stuck in an absurd mirage.

Last night I read a book that made me think a lot about how this can happen in unexpected ways. How we need to look for the intimate relationship between happiness and sorrow in order to understand, accept and move on.

But first things first, you are probably wondering what I was doing reading a novel on Christmas Eve. We had an early dinner after a very busy day. We, were my son, my husband and my mother. The rest of the family, including my beloved grandchildren couldn’t be with us this year, but ‘worry not’ as Jane Eyre would say, I’ll be seeing them all tomorrow 💗 Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I opened my kindle, sat in bed, started a novel and finished it, and I’m so glad I did.

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I decided to look for a sweet romance with a Christmas theme. I picked up Three Nights Before Christmas  (Wild Montana Nights Book 3) by Kat Latham. Information about this romantic novel popped into my inbox through JustRead.It and Book Bub. Continue reading “Gibran, Happiness, Christmas and #Amreading”

Cooking and Sharing #SOCS

This post is written in response to Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt. Check it out here   Today’s theme is ‘cook’

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Today’s Christmas Eve and I definitely won’t be cooking, although everyone will be eating the food I cooked.

By the way, everyone is my husband, my son and my mother, at least. You never know who else might be popping in… Lots of people I love are missing today because they have to be somewhere else due to personal or professional reasons, but I’ll be seeing them soon.

I’ll be getting up late-ish, going shopping for a couple of last minute presents and then I’m going to have lunch at the best restaurant in Reinosa, Spain, called Restuarante Fontebro.

After a short rest, I’ll be preparing Christmas dinner, which is the big family meal which takes place on 24th December very late in the evening.

I cooked it all two night ago, yes on Thursday 22nd, in the evening, because I’ve been travelling across Spain yesterday, Friday, 23rd, and as I wanted to go shopping and eat out today, 24th, I wouldn’t be able to cook either.

You’re probably dying to know what I cooked, aren’t you? It’s not terribly original but very delicious. Oven cooked, boned, stuffed, turkey in a delicious orange and brandy sauce. If you’d like more details, such as a recipe, ask me in the comments.

Cooking for the people we love is an expression of love and eating the food cooked with love is another act of love. Cooking and sharing meals is an intimate ceremony and I welcome any excuse to cook for my friends and family. The conversations we have while eating delicious food and drinking good wine are inspiring and priceless.

Anyway, I need to put it all in the oven right now and make sure everyone eats it all up.

I hope you have a wonderful evening either cooking or eating what someone else has cooked with all their love. Happy cooking, eating, and sharing food and conversation.

I know you’d love to see pictures of the food and other events, but I’ll be posting photos tomorrow on Silent Sunday.

 

Happy Anniversary to Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall #SundayBlogShare

Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall went live on amazon on 28th of August 2015.

Brief Blurb:

More secrets and shocking revelations at Eyre Hall in this Victorian Gothic Romance. Mystery and suspense will unfold in a breathtaking family saga, which will transport the reader into the haunting Yorkshire countryside, to gruesome Victorian London, and across the Atlantic Ocean to Colonial Jamaica.

First anniversary 12th Night

Reviews.

I have 19 reviews on Amazon US and 7 on Amazon UK.

Some of the things readers have said:

‘The various first person voices are all totally distinct so that I felt like I was catching up with old friends as I read. I can’t wait for the third book in the trilogy to be published and again, although ‘Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall’ is crafted with a hugely satisfying ending, there is potential for an incredible finale to the trilogy. Brilliant.’

‘You felt like you were in the story. Enjoyed very much, cannot wait to read second book. You really cannot put this Down.’

‘Over all this is definitely a must read in my opinion. If you adore classics like I do, I think you will enjoy this trilogy immensely.’

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Bestseller Lists

It’s been on the amazon bestseller lists for historical novel on several occasions.

12th Night bestseller

I love this picture because Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall was close to A Dangerous Fortune by Ken Follett, for a few days. I was pleasantly surprised because A Dangerus Fortune is a wonderful book, which I’ve recently read (although it was first written in 1998, I hadn’t even heard of it).

It has some similarities to my trilogy: It’s also a Victorian family drama including betrayal, romance, unscrupulous villains, many cruel and surprising twists and turns, and a relatively happy ending, but more about that in another post.

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Sales

It’s sold an average of 2-3 kindle ebooks a day and over 30,000 pages have been read on KENP, which means between 90 and 100 people (may/probably) read the book (or a greater number could have started it and not finished it).

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None of this seems a lot in the big scheme of things, but bearing in mind there are over 4 million books on amazon which readers can choose to read, including bestsellers, well-known author names, big publishers, etc., overall I feel proud of my second book baby, although I feel she still has a long way to go 🙂

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Hopes for the Second anniversary.

I’ll be preparing the ebook Box Set with the three books shortly, and I hope people keep buying, reading, and reviewing it. That’s all.

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Some favourite scenes:

Romance:

Chapter VII. Upheaval at Eyre Hall.

Michael narrates.

“Mrs. Mason, I would request a private word with you, if you please?”

Did she recoil on hearing my voice? Was it possible that I could have such a negative effect on her? Did she hate me for leaving, or for returning?

“Have you finished playing, Lieutenant Kirkpatrick?” she answered, looking into the hearth.

“I have no intention of playing, and least of all with you, Mrs. Mason.”

She turned to me, and my heart surrendered as it always did. Hers were the eyes I had seen in every sea storm, and hers was the face I had observed in every sunrise.

“Congratulations Lieutenant, now that you are an officer in the navy, you can have your pick of the young girls who are searching for husbands. You have done well.”

I wanted to throw myself at her feet and tell her that I had come back because her image was so firmly lodged in my mind that her face was the last thing I saw before falling asleep and the first thing I thought of every morning when I woke. Hers were the only lips I ever wanted to kiss, and being so near her and watching her indifference was killing me.

“I am not looking for a young wife,” I whispered.

“What are you looking for? Why are you here? Is it to flaunt your victory?”

I wanted to tell her that the only thing that had kept me alive at sea was a little red button she had given me, and the faint hope of seeing her again, one day. As I stood beside her, I knew I had come back because my life meant nothing to me without her.

I moved closer. “Please, could we continue this conversation somewhere more private?”

The flames drew shadows on her frosty face. “On what matter must you speak to me that is so private?”

“Regarding my sister’s health.”

“Susan seems perfectly healthy to me,” she said, still watching the flames.

“It is a very urgent. I would not trouble you if it were not so important.”

Her bright stormy eyes turned to mine, and for a second I looked into the depths of the ocean and saw a flicker of hope. If I could make her look into my eyes again and see how much my love had grown, I was sure she would allow me back into her heart.

“I beg you to allow me to discuss the matter with you privately.”

Her expression softened for a second. “Wait in the library,” she said quietly and turned back to the glowing fire.

Gothic Elements:

The exhumation of Jane’s dead baby in the family vault. Jane narrates.

“We cannot proceed with an exhumation without the bishop’s permission,” he said, and I realised he had probably been loyal to Edward. I wondered if he had known about Helen all along.

“This is our vault, and our church. The church is on our grounds. We pay for its upkeep and your salary and comfortable lodgings, very generously. We do not require an exhumation, Mr. Woods. We would like to visit our vault and open one of our tombs, and we will do so with your permission or without it. I suggest you do not oppose my wishes or you will regret it, so please be so kind as to bring the keys and open our vault. Now.”

He was indeed his father’s son. I had no doubt that he would control the estate with an iron fist when the time came. I had thought he was more understanding and thoughtful, but I realised he was a Rochester through and through. I wondered sadly what, if anything, he had inherited from my side of the family.

Mr. Woods turned the ornate key in the giant lock and pushed the gate open revealing a steep stone staircase. John walked down first, closely followed by Adele and Dr. Carter. My son turned after taking the first steps. “Mother, please follow us. If you were brave enough to accuse my father of a crime, you should be brave enough to walk past his tomb.”

Hot tears burned my cheeks. Annette gasped and threw her arms around me. “No,” she cried, and then I heard Dr. Carter’s calm voice, “I see no need for all of us to go down this narrow passage, Mr. Rochester.”

“I insist. My mother must see the baby’s coffin for herself.”

“We will have to bring it up for inspection in any case. There is not enough light down there,” added the good doctor.

“I must protest,” said Mr. Woods. “The coffin must not be removed from the vault under any…”

“Mr. Woods, the coffin will be brought up, and if you do not desire to witness the event, I suggest you leave the church.” John turned to me. “Mother?”

“Let us go down, Annette,” I whispered and she nodded.

The crypt was long and narrow. There were two tiers of niches on either side of the constricted passage. Ornate and well–preserved wooden caskets rested inside the first niches. A quick glance revealed room for twelve corpses. Two niches were empty. I thought of Edward’s relatives, his grandparents, his parents, his brother, himself and Richard, and the baby’s coffin accounted for eight, plus two empty niches, which meant two corpses were unaccounted. Edward had never spoken to me of any other relatives.

John insisted on reading the names on the metal crests on the side panels. Finally, the two unaccounted bodies were identified as Mr. Harvey Fairfax, Edward’s mother’s brother and previous vicar at this church, and his wife Mrs. Alice Fairfax, who had been the housekeeper when I arrived at Thornfield Hall.

John stopped before a small casket, which looked out of place inside a large niche positioned on the lower level. It rested at the end wall of the vault, below Edward’s, and read: ‘Infant Eyre Rochester. May 1855’.